#akaashi timeskip

[clawsdevour]

our own?

wc: 1.9k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, akaashi x reader, pregnancy, oral (f!receiving), smut, fingering, not proofread

˚⟡˖࣪.

It’s late, maybe around midnight where it’s pitch black. The lights are off, you can’t see anything and it’s dead silent in your neighborhood. But you were in bed, under the covers with your husband of five years, Keiji Akaashi.

His arms covered by a grey long sleeve are wrapped around your waist while your hands are wrapped snuggly around his neck for a little cuddle time before drifting off to sleep. The embrace turned more into Akaashi’s favor while he’s playfully shuffling around with you. Eventually he ended up on top of you with his forearms at the sides of your head. 

The intimate little giggles you two breathe out alongside the sounds of you both rubbing against the bed sheets. You’re the first to lift your head up to land a kiss on his cheek. You could feel the smile creeping up on his face while he’s leaning lower for more of your gentle pecks that he always enjoys. Gradually, you made your way to his delicate lips, his half lidded eyes drooping down to take all of your kisses. 

Lips on his to share a heated kiss, your hands in his messy black hair. His fingers trailing up to caress the side of your face. A slow but cherishable kiss, his plush muscle making way into your mouth for further arousal. Massaging your tongue against his till you’re both out of steam.

Coming to a halt for a brief moment connected by a single string of saliva, your ragged pants radiating on eachothers skin. Akaashi takes this time to slip off his long sleeve, you’re slightly able to see his toned torso through a sliver of light that the curtains were unable to cover. 

Akaashi’s coming back down head level to you, wanting to continue kissing you, and maybe do something more tonight. That was until you put a finger on his lips telling him to wait, he’s pulling back just a bit, giving you some room.

“Keiji, do you think it’s about time?” whispering despite knowing there’s no one else in your bedroom besides the man you love. He’s puzzled at this question, you can’t see clearly but you know his brows are slightly furrowed trying to understand what you’re asking him.

“Time for..?” His finger massaging tender circles on your waist, a bit concerned for what you have to say.

“That… we start having kids of our own?” Silence, the room was. His finger stopped rubbing the warm and comforting circles.

Akaashi’s frozen in place. Astonished at the words you just spoke. His eyes were wide in shock, as this was the moment he’s been waiting for ever since he got down on one knee with that ring in hand. 

“Keiji?” The lingering quietness was so long due to him having to process this moment. 

“A-Are you okay with that? I mean like, having kids?” Akaashi’s seeking your approval as this was just casually and suddenly brought up.

“Yes, as long as it’s with you.” Rising up, your hands reach for his neck once more before trailing his body down with you as you fall back onto your fluffy pillow, stroking the side of his neck in comfort.

“Alright.. as you wish, love” he’s grinning from ear to ear with a few chuckles of happiness, peppering your face with his light kisses.

Your hands roam around his chest, moving lower where you felt something hard building up underneath the fabric of his sweats. Akaashi’s already stiffening from excitement. You didn’t realize a warm hand had slid up your shirt, fondling with your breast with its heated touch. His fingers massaging against your little nub causing you to squirm slightly underneath his frame while you continue to make out with him.

His flushed face separates from your faintly swollen lips, letting a cold wisp of air tickle the surface of your skin. Tugging the waistband of your pajama pants lower, he’s shuffling on his knees, down under the covers. His large hands at the sides of your hips, mouth latching onto your stomach His sloppy heated kisses making contact with your skin, a ticklish sensation arousing. You’re sliding out of your shirt, also leaving your chest vulnerable towards the cool air that hardened your nipples. 

“They’re gonna grow in here for 9 months, hm?” his breath muffled while he continues to peck your stomach. You’re mumbling out a ‘yes..’

His sensitive kisses make you want to bury your fingers in his messy hair to make him reach further down where your legs started to rub against each other, trying to resist his daunting stimulation. With each kiss he’s gradually dragging your pajamas further down, revealing to him your slightly wet underwear.

Pants off, you’re left in nothing but your panties. Akaashi’s laying flat on his chest between your legs, his index pressing against the damp fabric before hooking his digits on the sides to tug down to reveal your bare cunt. He’s faced with your bare slit, glistening with slick when you parted your legs further for his broad figure.

His warm fingers make its way onto your intimate area, using his thumbs to spread the outer lips to the sides. Feeling a hot puff of air, his mouth makes contact with your clit. A foreign sensation playing with your sensitive and smooth muscle, an increasing grip on the sheets twirl and crinkle around you.

His tongue is swirling around your heat emitting core in short but stimulating strokes. A few whimpers turned into moans when he started to pick up the pace, flicking your nub with all his power.

Moving just a bit beneath your clit, his mouth makes its advance into your entrance. Trying to lap up all of your rapidly overflowing juices caused by all the pleasure you’re receiving, attempting to insert a finger in to stimulate you further. 

His slender and long digit slowly being swallowed up the moment he presses against your hole that yearned for his touch, coming back out coated with your shining essence. You’re biting down your lip and pressing your head against the pillow to try and resist moaning even louder the more you came closer to your climax. 

“Feel good?” His husky quiet voice tickling your thigh, struggling to mumble out a ‘mhm’ without whining instead.

Akaashi’s adding in another finger to stretch you out. Your cunt’s taking all of him well while he’s pressing gentle wet pecks on your inner thighs. Clamping down around the added size, he’s working at a consistent pace to make sure it won’t cause any discomfort later on.

His stature rises back up where you’re head level with Akaashi. His lips longed for yours that called out his name, coming back up to make out with you once more while his fingers continue to move with haste. Reaching your orgasm, you cum on his fingers, feeling your cunt throb when his fill leaves your sopping entrance, a small whimper escaping your lips. 

“You ready?” Akaashi’s a little winded from the intimate tension rising in the air. You can feel his eyes piercing into you.

His body moves off of you for a second, he’s reaching for the nightstand forgetting that you wanted his seed in you that night.

“Wait Keiji! We won’t need that tonight,” your hand coming onto his forearm to stop him. He’s returning back to his stance that towers over you.

“Sorry, I forgot haha” giggling at his little mistake, he has one mission that night and it was to fill you up with every drop he had in store for you and get you pregnant with his child.

He’s taking off his sweats, leaving them somewhere to be picked up for the next day. His painfully hard erection standing, a hand slowly it stroking up and down, a bit of precum shining in the light.

“O-Ooh..” feeling something dense and warm prod against your wet slit. 

“Tell me if anything hurts, okay love?” reassuring eyes darting at you while you nod in response.

Akaashi’s guiding his cock up and down your folds, collecting your wetness on his length for a smooth entry. Lining himself up at your heated entrance, he tilts his head up to look at you for your permission. 

“Keiji, put it in.. I want you in me” telling Akaashi you want to make love with him, for real this time. His tip slides in without any trouble, causing you to quiver in satisfaction while he’s steadily pushing his way in.

Your gummy walls take his shape and form, making your pussy his. Akaashi’s giving you a moment to adjust, lips on the surface of skin he has free reign over. Feeling a moist and warm latch onto your right nipple, he’s continuing to satisfy you as he waits.

Grinding your hips to know that you want him to start thrusting, he’s leisurely rocking his hips into you. His gentle thumping, large hands moving underneath your knees to hold you in place, lips kissing places only he can kiss. 

“You feel so good, I’m already near just being inside…” Akaashi’s cooing softly throughout grunts of pleasure, feeling a pulse grow the more he clicked his pelvis into yours, your breasts moving to the rhythm. A subtle squelching sound starting to arise the more power he started to put into each movement. 

Your moans mixing in with every crisp audible sound resonated in between your walls. His tip prodding deeper, searching for your sweet spot while his length rubs against your insides in delight. 

“R-Right there, Keiji” pressing just a bit further, he found it. He’s angling every thrust to hit your sweet spot while your legs trembled with pleasure. Your whimpering and moaning continues to grow in volume while he’s exceeding his limit for you. 

Legs twitching under his hands while the heat continues to build up in your stomach, you’re so close to another orgasm. He’s now mercilessly pounding into you, his consistency starting to break as his plunges became sloppier. The sound of skin slapping increasing with all the noises.

Akaashi’s slowing down to more sensational strokes that had you curling your toes, about to reach your release while your grip on the bedsheets increases and stiffens. You can feel his cock twitching inside you while he continued to graze your bundle of nerves with every thrust. 

Seeing stars, you came once again. Breathless whilst releasing all the tension in your body while you take all of him until he plants his seed inside. Akaashi’s still got stamina to keep going, but what’s stopping him is now is how he’s about to burst inside you from all this pent up stimulation he’s been trying to resist. 

“I’m gonna cum, can I..?” his beady dark blue eyes watching your silhouette nod.

His hot fluids spurt out from his throbbing cock, coating your insides with his milky, thick essence. The warm liquid’s filling your pussy to the brim while Akaashi’s moaning out in pleasure. The grip under your knees releasing, letting your legs slowly fall to the sides while he’s huffing for air.

Slowly sliding out from your cum filled pussy, he’s eying the masterpiece he created with the sliver of light peeking out from the curtain working in his favor. His thick essence slowly seeping out from your swollen pussy before settling his body on you for a comforting hug.

Wrapping his arms around you, he’s shifting himself to be underneath you despite being exhausted and sweaty. Giving you two a moment to settle down, the heat increasing between you two.

Akaashi’s planting a gentle kiss on your forehead whilst sweeping the strands of loose hair to the side. He’s gazing at you in awestruck while thinking about the future you’ll create together.

“You don't know how I longed for this.”

masterlist here

[4unnyr0se]

❥ men and their office siren

warnings: fem! reader, office siren! reader, perversion, lewd thoughts, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, mentions of bondage, mentions of breeding, incredibly lewd language, hickeys

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 522

Men who fall in love with their local office siren. Their boring desk jobs become something to look forward to daily because you would be there gracing the monotonously grey cubicles with your beauty and sickenly sexy high heels.

Men who instantly got hard whenever you would walk by in your tiny little pencil skirt that barely covered your ass and those thin black stockings that looked so fucking tearable. Your perfect posture is even more elevated with those red-bottomed heels you proudly strutted around in, no doubt a gift from a previous boyfriend. Or maybe a current boyfriend. He didn’t care. There was no ring on your finger. 

Men who fantasize about fucking you at their desk when lunchtime rolls around. When the office is empty, except for the two of you. How he so longs to grab you by your skirt collar and rip it in half, the buttons of your tight blouse flying in multiple directions. He craves the feeling of your tits in his mouth and his fingers curling deep inside of you, your slutty screams rolling like honey off your tongue as you cum on his fingers like a good girl. But he isn’t finished with you, not at all. He rips the fabric of your stockings and slams his aching cock inside of you, not even bothering to use protection. He shoves all of his stupid stationery off the cheap desk, so you’re sprawled out like a slut, practically screaming as he rips you in two with his massive cock. He cums inside you over and over and over again until you’re whimpering and begging him to stop. His hand is wrapped so deliciously around your throat. His eyes are glued to his cock disappearing inside your greedy pussy.

Men who thought they would never be able to fuck their pretty office sirens until the pretty little thing shows up drunk at his doorstep one day, still in your work clothes. He wastes no time in throwing you onto his bed and tying your pretty wrists above your head so you can’t run anywhere. Who ruins you while you’re still in your pencil skirt, littering your neck with hickeys that would be impossible to cover up. Men who can’t stop spewing filth from their lips as they fuck you so desperately, and you take it so gladly.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum again inside of you. You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, princess? Oh, such a good little fucking slut you are, taking all my fucking cum. It’s gonna be leaking out of you for weeks.”

“You dress like such a fucking slut every single day, it’s only fair that I fuck you like one. Clenching around my cock like a slut, yeah? Don’t worry, pretty girl. I won’t stop fucking you until you pass out.”

“Fucking take it, fuck! Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Getting fucked by your coworker with those heels still on your feet? I should take a picture and email it to everyone; show them what a slut you’re being. Maybe someone will wanna come over and get his fill, hm?”

KENTO NANAMI, timeskip! tetsuro kuroo, shiu kong, doppo kunikida, SHOTA AIZAWA, timeskip! daichi sawamura, timeskip! keiji akaashi, choso kamo, RANPO EDOGAWA, loid forger

[kwadlayns]

(Fem BokuAka) Your sets are the best! 🤍✨

🌟 Bonus! Timeskip ver. sketch:

Pose ref from: X

[kyemna]

Time-skip Haikyu boys and their love language

Tw: suggestive, implied sex below the cut.

---------------------------------------------------

Kuroo: Physical Touch

• When you first met, it was clear he had taken an intrest in you.

Subtle touches on your arm or wrist when you passed him, grabbing your hips to move you when you were in front of something he needed, etc.

• You two work for a sports promotion division (yes I looked it up), so every time you get to your desk, there's coffee waiting for you. You know exactly who put it there.

•When he got his shit together and confessed to you, he kissed you. Unexpected turn of events. Okay, maybe not that unexpected considering his prior boldness.

• He loves tying up your hair for you. You know where i'm going with that? Okay.

Look, I know people deny that he's a freak in the sheets, but looking like that? I beg to differ.

• Speaking of begging, he has this obsession with you saying 'please, can you do this' or 'please help me with that.' Just 'please' gets him off tbh.

• Will walk into you when you're picking something off the floor, bent over, and then claim it was an accident and that he didn't see you.

---------------------------------------------------

Tsukishima: Physical Touch

• I know that's kind of controversial, but hear me out.

• Honestly, under that nonchalant attitude is a STARVING man.

•When you first met, he treats you like any other he'd come across. But over time, he finds himself more attracted to you.

Is it the way your legs looked in those jeans? Okay, okay, maybe a little bit.

•So, when you get closer, he finds his hand resting on your thigh, your lower back or your hand. Like a subconscious attraction that he isn't really aware of.

• You were sitting together and you were reading an article written about his last game to him. His gaze constantly fell to your lips. He was listening of course! But it's just the way your lips moved when you talked..

• He couldn't really resist, so of course he kissed you. Not a normal peck, no. Hungry. Like he hadn't eaten in centuries.

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Akaashi: Words of affirmation

• When you first met you noticed how gentle he was with Bokuto. And apparently, so did many others.. but that didn't matter, for Akaashi's eyes were on you.

• You both work for Weekly Shonen Vai (Again, yes I did look that up), so when he sees you working, he lays a hand on your shoulder.

"You're doing so well, Darling. Keep it up."

We love motivation for the next couple of hours, don't we.

• He's always there to reassure you that everything is just fine.

Worried about your works due date? Don't worry, he'll help you out.

Scared you don't look good in that new dress you bought that he loves so much? He'll make sure you're never insecure again.

• Praise, Praise, Praise, I'm telling you.

"You're doing so good for me, baby"

"You're so pretty, just for me, hm?"

"You always know just how I like it, don't you?"

• Worships your entire existence. You don't have to tell him you're his, he knows. But he'll make sure you know he's yours.

---------------------------------------------------

Daichi: Acts of Service

• The first time you met was when the cops were called, because the shop owner accused you of shoplifting. Daichi went through your bag and patted you down. When he found nothing, the owner had to apologize and Daichi felt guilty for wasting such a pretty lady's time.

So he asked you to go to dinner with him.

That's right, he takes you out to dinner first.

• By the time you were done eating- Wait let me rephrase.

By the time he paid the bill (like a gentleman should) and got back to his car, he was craving dessert. Luckily, he had just the place in mind. His place.

• Eats you out like it's his last meal. I mean, he's a cop. He's got to serve the citizens, right?

• He gets out of bed before you wake up, on his day off, so he can get you your morning coffee.

• Puts his hand on the pointy side of the table, when you bend down to pick something off the floor.

I know this is a different of what I usually post, and I apologize for disappearing for so long😥

Thank you for reading!!

[owlyflufff]

if bokuto teaching volleyball to little kids can become canon then bokuto and akaashi getting married, living the best domestic life and still loving each other at the tender age of 130 years old can become canon too

[petricorah]

every once in a while i remember how much fun i have doing lineart [id in alt]

[virizines]

Tenma draws catkaashi

[hatsukeii]

fragrance: coffee break, replica / timeskip!akaashi keiji x barista!reader

notes: coffee (top), lavender (heart), milk mousse (base)

description: the first shot of espresso after a long shift, freshly dripped coffee from the brewer

disclaimer(s): a love or hate fragrance for many

wc: 2470

warning(s): mentions/depictions of puke and anxiety, overworking culture and capitalism LMFAO but no nsfw!! angsty akaashi is a corporate slave and reader is a free soul who just likes brewing coffee </3 gn reader too!!

Akaashi Keiji doesn't like coffee at all, especially not when the black liquid that pools in the abyss of a flimsy paper cup on his desk is only a means to stay awake, to keep editing. But if anything, the instant coffee stand in his office is a necessity to keep him alive these days. He stares at his monitor, and his phone goes off in clicks and whirs just as it has for the past seven hours; messages from Koutaro, who has just won his qualifiers with MSBY, the qualifiers that Keiji wanted so badly to be at. He glances at the time that blinks at the corner of the screen.

22:45:01

Just another fifteen minutes, he thinks. Just another fifteen minutes until he can finally flick the lights off and lock himself out of this hell for the next two days. His eyelids grow heavier by the second as his fingers click impossibly quickly at his keyboard, regurgitating words on a blank canvas the way he throws up black coffee into the toilet every night. Despite that, his hand reaches for the paper cup that sits on his coaster, a pandora's box of putrid bitterness waiting to be consumed. After all, the vile, soured sensation of puke flushing out from his esophagus is infinitely more enjoyable than falling asleep at his desk and being berated by his dickhead of a boss again. He flips the swampy black liquid into his mouth, wincing at the tartness that claws lines down his throat all the way to his stomach.

Surely enough, right as the numbers at the corner of his monitor blink into 23:00:00, Akaashi Keiji is already frantically shoving his documents into his messenger bag, inevitably folding them in the wrong spots as he haphazardly slips them through the free cracks amongst his laptop and other miscellanous items. He flicks the lights off and sprints out the door, missing the key hole twice before finally managing to lock the office up properly, and makes a run for the bathroom, where he kneels in front of an empty urinal, and throws up everything he’s consumed in the past six hours. This consists of a single cream cheese bagel from the office fridge, and five cups worth of pure instant coffee.

The streetlights buzz above Keiji's head, moths feeding into their brightness as they dance around a ghastly tungsten glow. The walk home is tiring. He is so very tired. His guts have been emptied out in an office bathroom and the buzzing of the streetlight makes him want to crawl up its post and shatter it to shards, taking the moths down with it. Walls of glass on both sides line the night streets, mannequins staring him down as he slumps and turns the corner to his own.

Warmth.

The corner he has just turned heats him up like a fireplace does when the wind howls and screams at his windows, and he turns to the warm glow of a usually unnoticed cornerstore. It's fifteen past eleven, yet one person resides behind the counter. The sign at the door is flipped to ‘closed’, and Keiji can do nothing but stand at the entrance, watching you meticulously swirl steaming water into filter paper. He turns away in embarrassment when you look up at him, and place the long-spouted kettle in your hand down. He steps away from the corner as you swing open the door, the bell jingling in a merrier fashion than the droning streetlights.

"Are you good? You look a bit pale."

He turns back, and your body is halfway out the door. He doesn't say a word, yet his feet move towards the store unconsciously, and he doesn't realise it until his body is lined up with the doorframe.

"Do you, by any chance, have any food? I can pay."

Keiji sits at the coffee bar, where your steaming kettle sits amongst a plethora of brewing tools. Brown liquid falls into a roundbottomed flask drop by drop, tantalisingly slow. You flick on the television behind him, and the unmistakeable sound of leather against hardwood rings loud from the speakers as you reach into the fridge behind, searching for anything edible.

"You allergic to anything?"

"No, anything's good. Thanks."

Grabbing a leftover croissant, you throw it in the microwave, pressing carelessly at the buttons until the little glass dish begins to spin and whir. Facing the counter again, fingers return to the handle of the kettle as you continue swirling steaming water into coffee grounds on filter paper. Keiji's eyes are trained to the television, the reflection of a volleyball on the screen following the motion of his eyes.

"Volleyball fan too?"

"Yeah, my best friend plays on that team. Black Jackals."

Your eyebrows raise, still trained on the brewing batch of drip coffee. One circle, two circles, and down. You're not sure why your peculiar visitor is here instead of in the stands, but the bags beneath his eyes and his ghastly figure at your door are enough to give you a clue. You set the kettle down again, and the coffee begins to drip faster with the addition of water.

"Oh, really! Which player?"

"Kou- Bokuto. Bokuto Koutaro."

"That's cool, he's my favourite player. Got his jersey sitting somewhere at home."

The microwave beeps, and you reach for a ceramic plate, sliding the crispy croissant onto it and handing it to Keiji. He reaches for it hesitantly, the crust crunching beneath his fingers as layers of flaky pastry steam and fold against each other, before taking a bite. Buttery soft layers of bread, warm flakes dancing on his tongue, a hint of salt between each sheet of croissant pastry. His face stretches into a barely noticeable, but satiated smile as he chews. For the first time this week, Akaashi Keiji swears he is in heaven.

"This...this is a really fuckin' good croissant." He chuckles out with his mouth stuffed, a rare occasion given his usual schedule of throwing up, then going to bed. You wink at him, clicking your tongue proudly.

"In-house favourite, took me months to get right. I'm glad it's good."

Keiji pushes his glasses up with his knuckles, glancing back at the television. Koutaro graces the screen now, piercing golden eyes wide with enthusiasm. His voice rings through the speakers.

"I'm dedicating this win to my best friend! He was supposed to be here, but he must've been busy, so he couldn't make it. But that's okay! I know he's watching me back home, right, Keiji?"

He wants to cry, his mouth still stuffed with your croissant. His Adam's apple shifts ever so slightly, and you take notice of his neck tensing. The whites of your visitor's eyes are more red than anything, the bridge of his glasses sliding down when his nose scrunches at Bokuto's words. You eye the croissant on his plate, half-eaten in the two minutes it's been out of the microwave for.

"Would you like some coffee? Freshly brewed, new recipe."

Akaashi Keiji doesn't like coffee at all. Yet as he turns around to meet your eyes, lips pursed in guilt, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it might be what he wants right now. You swirl water into the coffee grounds again, brown liquid dripping into the flask alluringly.

"Are you sure? It looks like it's taken a while to collect."

"You'd be doing me a favour by telling me if it tastes like shit."

You wait for the droplets to cease, before swirling the flask once, twice. Brown coffee trickles into a white mug as you hand it to your visitor, who takes it timidly with both hands cupping its warmth. Notes of lavender and almonds peek from the cover of coffee, flushing his sinuses clean from the biting acidity of the instant coffee he's become so accustomed to.

"Sorry in advance if I end up puking this out. It happens with instant coffee, and it's not going to be because of the taste, I promise."

You shoot your visitor a questionable look, and he grimaces in shame.

"You must be drinking a lot of shitty coffee, with too little water. Could be acid reflux. This should be much better, but let me know if you need anything."

Keiji does not down the coffee in one go this time. Instead, he takes such small sips from the mug, that he may as well be taking kitten licks at the liquid. It slides past his tongue and into his throat, smooth as silk. Hints of vanilla fill his tastebuds, offsetting the innate bitterness of caffeine, and for once coffee does what it's meant to. He feels alive again.

"This is incredible. I think I can actually hold this in my stomach."

"Coffee shouldn't make you worry about keeping it in your stomach, so I'm glad."

He smiles, a real one now, taking in another sip. His bag hangs from the wooden frame of the chair, papers still crumpled between laptops and binders and files. He watches you swirl water into the filter paper again, and wonders how long you might be willing to keep him here for. The street is desolate, spare for the leaves that flutter in the midnight breeze. He would like to stay in this seat forever.

"So, why aren't you in the stands? Bokuto was clearly looking for you."

He freezes, initially unsure how you've figured him out, before recalling his declaration of comraderie with Koutaro upon the flick of a television remote to the volleyball match. The mug of coffee is half empty when Keiji places it down on the counter, and he rubs his face in his hands. His nails are short, evidently chewed on, and you catch onto the way his thumbs instinctively massage against the fleshy cushions at the bottom of his palms, and the centre of his inner wrists.

"Office work, manga editing is no joke."

"Yeah, I can tell, you've worked yourself into anxiety and carpal tunnel."

"Must be nice brewing coffee without a dickhead boss on your back for everything."

You grin sadly, because he's right. You've seen it on the faces of every visitor, tired eyes searching for hope on laptop screens, teeth gnawing at peeling lips at seven in the morning for no particular reason, restless feet bouncing on the floor as they wait for their coffee, and almost burn themselves trying to finish it in one go, before rushing out the door without so much of a thank you. Your midnight visitor is no different than the rest, other than the fact that he displays genuine human emotion, and is willing to slowly enjoy your five hour brew.

"Yeah, it's the least I can do for everyone who comes here. Fix them a good cup. They're tired enough as is."

Keiji chokes up at your words. The past year of manga editing has graced him with screaming seniors, hours upon hours of overtime, throwing up food and drink every night until all he has the guts to eat are microwaved frozen bagels. His throat closes up, Adam's apple swallowing thickly. Shoulders begin to tremble, and you place a hand on the side of his bicep, rubbing it soothingly over the counter. His sobs fill up the shop, drowning out the television as he rubs at his face even harder, wiping his tears with his jacket. In one night, you have shown him more care than anyone else has in the past year combined, and all you've done is microwave him a leftover croissant and fix him a mug of real coffee.

"S-sorry, 's been a shitty week."

"You're okay, you're fine. Let it out, as much as you need."

And for just a moment in his bleak existence, the sterile white lights of the office become a lamplit cafe, hidden in the corner of his street. The stench of air freshener is swapped out for vanilla, and coffee, and lavender, and all that is right. For just tonight, Akaashi Keiji, who doesn't like coffee at all, thinks that he might actually be able to enjoy it, as long as it's from you, and only you.

author's note:

bet you didn't expect this series to get angsty!! i really wanted to write a coffee shop romance, but i also wanted to get a little ambiguous, like a sorta fateful meeting, and i thought this would work!! the idea of throwing up coffee makes me want to cry because i love coffee so much i could not imagine my life without it icl

hope you guys enjoyed this though! it's not as romantic as the other ones i've done on the cologne series, but it's a change in pace that im looking to achieve!! might be the most gentle piece i've written for this series in terms of atmosphere as well :333

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @starlysama @catsoupki @fiannee @afyrian @bailey-reeds @iiwaijime

ok love u guys see u in the next one bye bye

[mindie-arts]

AHHHH OMG I LOVE LOVE LOVE UR ARTSTYLE IS SOOO CUTE ❤️❤️❤️ Could u maybe pretty please draw timeskip akaashi? If not that’s ok.

Have a good/night, make sure to eat and drink something and stay healthy! <3

I have drawn him once actually! :D

Ignore the other sketch

[weathertheraine]

‘CAUSE SOMEWHERE IN THE CROWD THERE’S YOU!

Part 2 of the ABBA song assignments :DD I am absolutely not the first person to say how great these lyrics are for timeskip bokuaka :,) it was so fun to draw them both so happy, even if the colour scheme was a bit challenging and Bokuto’s hair is a nightmare for me every time 😂 he's worth it !!

[Kagehina - Mamma Mia!]

[dira333]

Family matters - Akaashi Keiji x Reader x Bokuto Kotarou (Platonic)

Another one in my series of “This is my boyfriend and this is my boyfriend’s best friend” - I think I’m going to allow requests for this series as well… This is for @tetzoro and her Summer Olympics Collab

Keiji’s familiar enough with Onigiri Miya to order at the right time - which maybe says a lot about his eating habits - so he can get a few minutes of conversation in as he waits for the food without bothering other customers.

Today’s no different.

Osamu grins at him as he steps inside, black cap turned around so he looks more like a hipster than a renowned cook and business owner.

“How’s the baby?” He asks and the granny at the table by the window turns immediately. She’s a regular as well.

“Akaashi-san?!” Her eyes are huge. “You are expecting?”

“No, it’s not… it’s not like that. It’s a joke.”

“Oh!” She sounds clearly disappointed. “Well, tell your wife my regards.”

“Will do, Miyamushi-san! Will do.”

He sends Osamu a glare but the man just chuckles as he forms another perfect Onigiri.

“And how’s Atsumu?” Keiji asks then, pointedly. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Osamu comments calmly, prepping the take-away container.

“As if he doesn’t call you each day-” As if to prove him right, Osamu’s phone starts ringing, the ringtone clearly put in by Atsumu himself, playing “Yeah! I'm the victorious, you're the victim. Got so many trophies, man…”

Osamu scrambles to grab it, lest it blasts the song through the restaurant.

“What did I tell you about changing ringtones on my phone? … No, I didn’t have my phone on silent for the past week, I- well, it doesn’t matter, why did you call anyway? … Yeah, of course, we’re watching tonight, Akaashi’s here as well-”

-

“How’s the Baby?” Kuroo asks you at the door, shrugging off his perfectly tailored blazer.

You laugh. “Anxious, but who’s surprised? It’s a big thing to play in the Olympics.”

“How often has he called?”

“Who?” Tsukishima asks from the living room couch. “I’m taking bets, you want to join? You can play for Hinata, Kageyama, Bokuto or Atsumu.”

“Don’t be mean,” you tell the younger boy lightly as you pass him, playfully tapping his shoulder. “Besides, who are Hinata and Kageyama calling?”

“Sugawara, of course. He’s keeping me up to date.”

“Where’s the rest of the party,” Kuroo asks, looking around. “If I had known we weren’t going to be that many, I would have dragged Kenma along.”

“Oh, no,” you shake your head, “Akaashi and Osamu are currently picking up a few other guys and their girlfriends, I think? I don’t know the exact number but too much for Kenma. But I invited him over for the breakdancing competition, that’s just going to be me and him.”

Your phone pings with an incoming message at that moment and you excuse yourself to the kitchen, starting a call.

“You’re going to be fine,” are your first words.

“Are you sure?” Kotarou doesn’t sound like himself. More like he’d been shrunk in the wash a few times.

“Absolutely. You know how many people are watching you, cheering you on.”

“Not that many,” he points out with a voice you know too well. “Volleyball isn’t that big of an event. And even if, they won’t focus on me. Do you know who we’re playing tonight?”

“Honey, you have two-toned hair and you’re beefy enough to hide both Kageyama and Hinata behind you, you won’t be able to go unnoticed.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

“Even though we’re playing against Germany? They’re scary-” A gentle hand picks the phone from your grip. 

“Bokuto-senpai, you’re going to be just fine.” Keiji mutters calmly into your phone, pulling you closer. “We all believe in you.”

-

Germany wins. 

You’re not the only one consoling one of the players via a phone call and if Tsukki spends a good amount coming up with a strategy for how they can still get gold, he’s pretending he didn’t.

“Did you know what happened today?” Keiji asks as you’re getting ready for bed, knocking his hip into yours as you brush your teeth.

“Wht?”

“When I went into Onigiri Miya, Osamu asked me how the baby was doing. He was referring to Kotarou, but Miyamushi-san thought we were expecting. She was pretty disappointed.”

You snort, washing out your mouth.

“He really is our baby, isn’t he?”

Keiji pulls you closer.

“Does it bother you sometimes?”

“Not really. He’s one of the best friends you could have. However we have to make sure he won’t get jealous if we decide to get real babies. Smaller ones, you know?” You grin up at him. “Or a pet.”

“I think he’d definitely get jealous if we got a pet. Are you ready to give him just as many head scratches as you’d give our hypothetical cat?”

“Are you?”

[greynoceur]

Mi protegido

[4unnyr0se]

Could I ask for Akaashi, Osamu, Kenma, and Bokuto + them giving oral?

❥ til your teeth rot! | akaashi, osamu, kenma, bokuto

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, cunnilingus (duh), praise, degrading, overstimulation, face sitting, semi-public sex, osamu's accent, kenma is v lazy, fingering

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 1.8k

a/n: i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so i'm sorry if its awful

got a request? my ask are open!

❥ Keiji Akaashi | Slow and steady

Akaashi eats your pussy like it’s made of glass like it could break at any moment. Every flick of his tongue, every sucking motion on your clit is calculated based on your previous reaction. Did you mewl louder when he harshly sucked on your sensitive bud? He’ll apply more pressure next time, hopefully earning another one of your adorable moans. 

Just because he was calculated to give pleasure does not mean he was inexperienced or selfish. Absolutely not. He could never dream of denying you anything you so plainly desired. All you had to was flash him those beautiful, sparking eyes of yours, and you would be on your back, legs spread, and moaning like an amateur pornstar while Akaashi made you cum for the second time that day.

He never rushes you through your orgasm, he doesn’t think that being intimate with you is some kind of game. It’s a puzzle that he simply wants to solve. His tongue is achingly slow against your folds, making the most precious moments between the two of you last longer. He is savoring each bit of your sweet nectar, and he fucking loves it. 

K-Keiji!” you sobbed, your hands flying to his neat mess of dark curls, desperate for purchase. Your legs were wrapped around his shoulders, just in case he would try to flee. Akaashi fucking loved it when you trapped him between your legs, it made him feel like the two of you were the last people on earth. “Gonna cum!”

Akaashi smiled against your folds, his tongue pausing momentarily. “I know, pretty girl. Wanna fall apart on my tongue again? I love it when you do that.” he praised, diving back to make out with your core. His tongue slipped past your entrance, the tip of the wet muscle gliding in and out with ease. His soft hands squeezed the inside of your thighs, rolling the supple and soft flesh between his fingers. 

Your head was rested on the pillow beneath you, hair growing knotted and messy whilst your thighs trembled in Akaashi’s grasp. His nose rubbed against your clit so deliciously, the additional stimulation pushing you over the edge. Your orgasm washed over you as you cried in pleasure, his name leaving your lips over and over again. Akaashi purred at the sensation of your release coating his mouth and tongue, pulling away once your high had subsided.

“Amazing job, pretty girl. You did so well for me.” he praised, wiping your slick from his chin. He leaned down to give you a quick peck on the lips, lingering just long enough for you to taste your own release. “See how delicious you are, darling? So unbelievably perfect for me.”

❥ Osamu Miya | No time to lose

Osamu eats your pussy like he has somewhere to be at all times like he’s in a hurry. Being the owner of a popular rice ball spot keeps him occupied most of the time (as well as dealing with his pain-in-the-ass older brother), so when he finds a free moment to be intimate with you, he makes sure he makes himself efficient. 

Even though Osamu is the more relaxed and lazy twin, he’s never lazy in the bedroom. His usually tired and ‘over this’ attitude would melt away the second you two shared a longing kiss, his body being taken over by some kind of insatiable desire. He’s driven by his motivation to make you scream his name for the shop next to him to hear. His tongue lashes at your pussy like a man starving in the middle of a desert. 

If there’s a rare lull in customers entering and exiting his onigiri shop, he’ll change the ‘open’ sign to a ‘come back later’ sign and text you to be in the back of his shop ASAP. And, of course, you’re there in less than ten minutes, your skirt flipped up and your hands supporting your weight on the steel countertop as his tongue ravishes your cunt, drinking in your slick like honey.

“Stay fuckin’ still,” Osamu groaned into your heat, slapping the inside of your thighs. “I can’t make ya cum if yer wigglin’, sweets.” that was a lie. He was a liar. He could make you cum regardless of how much you were moving, he didn’t matter to him. But if you writhed around so much that it caused some ingredients to fall onto the floor, then it became a problem. 

“S-sorry ‘Samu! Fuck!” you moaned, your hands gripping onto the steel material of the counter for dear life as his tongue hungrily, your sweet nectar coating his tongue beautifully. It was the best alcohol he could ever wish to taste. “M’close!”

“Ya better fuckin’ be. I only got five minutes before those fuckers wonder why the shop ain’t open,” his words sent vibrations through your core, your clit painfully pulsating. The rough pad of this thumb swirled around the sensitive bud, pressing against it harshly. “Be a good girl and fuckin’ cum already, yeah? Gotta open up soon, sweets.”

Osamu finally flattened his tongue in the way that drove you over the edge, still swirling your bud with his rough thumb. “That’s it, good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned, lapping up your release eagerly. “Taste so fuckin’ good for me.”

He pulled himself out from between your thighs, wiping off his chin with the backside of his hand. Osamu stood up and pecked the top of your head, playfully slapping your soaked cunt. “Get outta here, I got customers to serve.” he also had to sanitize his countertop hard. 

❥ Kenma Kozume | Suffocate him

Kenma will only eat you out if you sit on his face. Not hover, not dangle, fucking sit on it. Despite being a CEO and a popular streamer, this man is lazy as hell. Typically, you do all the work during sex. Bouncing on his cock, sucking him off, etc. But on the rare occasion Kenma wants to eat you out, you still have to pull a heavy load. He is not getting up off his ass by any means, so you might as well cooperate with him. He’s stubborn as a fucking mule.

Kenma was a selfish lover, and he didn’t want to change that. He liked being taken care of and not putting much effort into it. He’s already so successful. Why should he do more work than he already is? That’s so exhausting. But how could he refuse when his pretty girlfriend practically paws at him to help get her off? He’s lying on the bed in a minute, gesturing to you to tear off those pretty red panties and take away his ability to breathe.

“Ride my fucking face,” Kenma groans into your core, squeezing your ass with hands as your hips buck into his mouth wildly. He loved it when you got like this, so desperate and needy for his tongue. His tongue plunged into your sobbing cunt over and over again, eliciting the cutest moans from your pretty lips.

“Fuck, Kenma!” you whimpered, your hands grasping the mahogany headboard like it was the last lifeboat on board. Your ground your clit onto his nose, mewling pathetically as his tongue lashed at your most intimate parts. Kenma savored your sweet honey, adoring how it nicely coated his tongue. Maybe he should make you fit on his face more often. 

His deep brown hair stuck to his forehead, the skin slick with sweat as the tip of his tongue traced meaningless shapes on your clit, occasionally nibbling at the sensitive bud. He knew you were close. The way your entire body was shaking was a dead fucking giveaway. That, and his name practically being screamed repeatedly, was also a good sign. “Gonna cum? Do it, princess. Make a mess on me.”

And you did, your orgasm spilling all over your boyfriend’s cute face. Your writing stopped, with Kenma slapped your ass, indicating that you should get off. You sighed and chose to straddle his lap, pecking his nose gently. “Thank you, baby, that was amazing.”

“Did you think we were finished?” Kenma groaned, resting his arms behind his head. “You got me really fucking hard, princess. How about you take care of that for me, yeah?”

❥ Kotaro Bokuto | Pure addiction

Boktuo fucking loves eating you out. Whenever you mentioned that you were horny, he would drag you into his bed and plunge his face into your thighs until he got you to coat your inner thighs with your release. He could never get enough of you and how good you tasted. How you would only crave his tongue and his fingers on your most imitate parts. 

He didn’t fucking care when or where you were horny, he was more than happy to make you scream in pleasure. Whispering to him in a cafe? He locked the bathroom and had you sitting on the sick, your dress bunched up at your hips, and your stockings ripped so your soaking cunt could be displayed just for him. Woke up at two in the morning from a wet dream? No problem, he had you riding his face while he jerked his fat cock to the sounds you made. Did you also wanna suck him off? No problem, baby! You were sixty-nining until the rooster screeched. Truly, Bokuto was addicted to eating you out. 

“Why are you covering your mouth, baby? I wanna hear your moans,” Bokuto groaned into your cunt, eagerly lapping up your slick like a man gone mad. Your trembling body was pinned against the bathroom door of your favorite restaurant, your skirt pushed upwards, and your soaked panties dangled off your ankles while Bokuto whispered pure filth into your cunt. “Don't you wanna let all those people out there know how good my tongue can make you feel?”

“Ngh, we’ll get in trouble, Kotaro!” you whispered, doing your best to keep your voice at an acceptable level while your boyfriend spelled his name with your tongue, eliciting a sharp squeak in return. “F-fuck, don’t stop!”

“Yeah? You wanna cum on my face in a public bathroom, hm? God, you’re so fucking hot. How’d I get so lucky?” he purred against your clit, swirling the tip of his tongue over the throbbing bud. “You taste so fucking good, holy shit. Way better than lunch.”

His index and ring finger bullied their way inside of you, curling at the spot that made you instantly cum all over his face. He didn’t stop sucking on your folds when your orgasm hit, his fingers still scissoring deep inside of your broken cunt. Your hand slapped over your mouth, covering out your molten cries of ecstasy.

“Good fucking girl, I’m so proud of you.” Bokuto praised, licking off his tongue as he stared at your ruined state. He pulled your panties up and your dress down, kissing your forehead tenderly. “Now, do you wanna go back home and cum again, hm?

[kimbapisnotsushi]

one thing i absolutely adore about the timeskip is how it gives us details about the characters we didn’t know much about before. like i know this probably isn’t true of EVERY character but looking at how many whose timeskip lives reflect their interests and such in high school (kenma, yachi, osamu, fukunaga, etc) then i’m willing to bet that a lot of the others had those hobbies and whatnot back when we first met them and i think that’s so cute??? like semi being a musician he probably had a guitar or something with him back in the dorms. kai became an arborist so maybe he liked taking walks to look at the trees and visited parks or had his own lil garden. lev and alisa might have played dress-up together when they were kids and could have gone shopping a lot in high school. akaashi became an editor so he was probably a giant bookworm and loved reading. like idk i just think it’s neat how it makes it feel like even in the future when we meet everyone again it really does feel like they’ve grown but haven’t changed at all y’know???

[flyingwargle]

“coach! i brought keiji with me!”

akaashi steps out from behind bokuto, a familiar sight to the black jackals. they gather around him with greetings and waves, and he replies with his usual formality. foster joins the huddle and gives him a warm smile. “welcome back, keiji. it’s always a pleasure to see you.”

“thank you for letting me stay.” he bows.

“we welcome family, friends, and significant others. isn’t that right, boys?” foster shoots a look at his players. meian and barnes whistle innocently, and hinata scratches the back of his head. “i always appreciate your observations.” he turns his heel. “koutarou, can i have a word with you? shugo, get started on warm-ups, please.”

“sure, coach.” meian gestures for his teammates to head to the court while bokuto walks with his coach to the side. akaashi is about to take his spot on the bench when an arm slings around his shoulder.

“hey, ‘kaashi, i gotta ask for yer advice,” miya says. “ya got a minute?”

“i’ll do my best to help. what is it?”

 “i need ta see ya set. bokkun keeps sayin’ my tosses are second-best an’ i ain’t settlin’ for that.”

akaashi glances over his shoulder. “i’m afraid you’re out of luck. i haven’t set a ball since high school.”

“bokkun tells me ya still play,” miya points out, raising an eyebrow. “casually.”

“yes, as a form of exercise. i’m sure he only says you’re second-best because of our relationship.”

“that man needs ta keep romance off the court,” miya grumbles. “yer here anyway, might as well play fer a bit. i know ya got a pair of court shoes in his apartment.”

“i’m not dressed for volleyball, if you haven’t noticed.”

“miya!” meian calls out. “get over here!”

“just think of how happy bokkun would be if he could hit yer tosses,” miya says, sliding toward his teammates. “ain’t nothin’ better than seein’ yer partner shine their brightest, y’know?” he jogs away, leaving akaashi to stare after him, stupefied.

if he thinks about it, there isn't anything special about his tosses. each spiker has their own preferences, from the ball’s height, distance from the net or antenna, and speed. bokuto never had any specifications; right from the start, he simply told akaashi, “just give me a toss! any toss!” later, he learned that the third-year setter didn’t toss to bokuto often because of how streaky his performance was, and it wasn’t until after he retired that bokuto’s full potential was realized.

no, that isn’t accurate. akaashi was never able to draw out his full strength, but with someone as talented as miya, he could definitely raise bokuto to greater heights. if bokuto had gone to a different school, had someone better as his setter, would he have taken victory home? but that implies a future where they’d never meet, one that akaashi doesn’t want to think about.

“keiji?”

akaashi startles. bokuto is in front of him, hands in his, concern in his eyes. “you’re overthinking again. is something on your mind?”

noise filters in and blocks out the rest of his thoughts. akaashi shakes himself, looks up at him. “no, everything is fine. if you don’t mind, i need to head back to the apartment for something. i’ll be right back.” he kisses his check in farewell and hurries off. he should have a spare t-shirt and shorts somewhere.

when he returns, practice is underway. he sits on a bench, chats with the assistant managers, who relay any observations he makes. afterwards, foster thanks him for his advice before heading out, and bokuto approaches. akaashi stands. “why don’t we play for a bit?”

“you want to play volleyball?” bokuto gasps. “but–“

“miya told me that you said his tosses are second-best, and he wants to know why. it appears he won’t take anything short of a live demonstration.” akaashi takes his jacket off, reveals the faded fukurodani gym strip that he once wore daily. “so why don’t we show him?”

“nice ta have ya join us, ‘kaashi,” miya says, standing between hinata and sakusa. “i’m ready ta see what yer tosses are like.”

“akaashi-san’s tosses are great!” hinata chirps. “they’re super easy to hit!”

“that was before. as for now…” akaashi stands at the net where the setter is positioned. “it…has been quite a while since i last did this.” he can’t even remember the last casual game he played, anywhere from last month to last year. the days tend to blur together, lost in the monotony of adulthood.

after he warms up and declares himself ready, bokuto marches forward to go first, but miya holds him off. “gotta save the best fer last, y’know?”

“i’ll go, then!” hinata stands at the end line, ball in hand. “any toss you’re comfortable with is fine, akaashi-san!” he throws his ball and makes his approach.

hinata’s contact point is much higher than before. he’s in the air longer, similar to hoshiumi-san. so the toss should be… akaashi jumps, sets the ball. hinata spikes it effortlessly, cheering as he lands. “nice toss!”

“nice kill!” bokuto cheers.

sakusa is next. “i prefer if it’s close to the net.” akaashi nods, watching the ball as it arches through the air. sakusa’s jumps aren’t as powerful, his main strength being the snap of his wrist. he sets it slightly lower, close to the net. his spike is parallel to the sideline.

“sharp!” hinata comments.

“not bad,” miya remarks.

bokuto is last. their eyes meet, his golden eyes radiating with nothing but love. akaashi smiles, simply raises his hands as the ball arches toward him. he sets it, and bokuto meets it in midair, arm pulled back, slamming the ball down with enough force that it bounces off the wall. when he lands, he pivots and picks akaashi up in his arms. “yup, your tosses are still the best!”

“bokkun,” miya whines, “ya gotta explain why! what makes my tosses second-best?”

“it’s because his tosses remind me of the best time in my life.” bokuto’s grin is wide, eyes on his boyfriend, a spark in its depths. “i have fun playing volleyball every day with you guys, but nothing beats playing with keiji. i’d never want to trade it for anything.”

akaashi feels his chest throb with adoration. all his overthinking was for nothing. “thank you, kou. i feel the same way.” his cheeks warm as bokuto leans forward to kiss him, his teammates making comments in mock disgust. he laughs, happy to be in his arms, watching him shine the brightest he has ever been.

[owlyflufff]

Something about Bokuto growing familiar with Akaashi's handwriting throughout their high school years, whether it's through little notes on how to improve that Akaashi leaves for him or the way caught Akaashi writing little tidbits of writing in a notebook or two.

Still Bokuto Koutarou remembers Akaashi Keiji's handwriting very well, it's a lot more elegant than his. He can recognize the particular way some letters are written, signs of something so precise, accurate and careful. It's very Akaashi-like.

By the time they've parted ways (or if Bokuto graduating but still going into the gym regardless to see Akaashi and the new recruits is considered parting ways), Akaashi's handwriting is still as memorable and recognizable to him. Bokuto knows it the same way he knows Akaashi so well.

Though merely sending a text message is more convenient and easier by a long mile, Bokuto decides to write a letter to Akaashi during his college days. Nothing admittedly prompts him to do it (he's always been one to try different things afterall), but he does it anyway, picking up pen and paper and humming a little tune as he crafts little stories, tales and experiences with his words.

His rambles and thoughts only for Akaashi and Akaashi to bear witness to.

A few days after sending the letter, no response. Akaashi doesn't bring it up either in text messages or conversation and for a little while Bokuto considers maybe it was a bit too silly of an idea.

Until a letter slips underneath his door and Bokuto doesn't even need to read where it came from before he's swiftly opening the envelope.

There is something to be said about seeing Akaashi's handwriting again. He misses it.

His finger gently trails along the paper, a soft smile on his lips as he reads Akaashi's response and his own tidbits of stories and tales, the chaos that is being Fukurodani's captain now in his stead. It doesn't take long before Bokuto is reaching for his pen and paper once more, writing another letter with just as much enthusiasm.

The exchange of letters between them last longer than Bokuto expected, but it would be an understatement to say he was happy in regards to it.

There is one day however, that Bokuto notices something is amiss.

Perhaps his eyes are just deceiving him, but he notices how some of the words are tangled. They aren't written the same way Bokuto recognizes them, not as careful as he had remembered them to be. It's a little odd to say the least but Bokuto merely assumes that it's just a little off detail and goes on, pen and paper already on the table as he writes back a response.

It gets worse.

The soft smile that was once there draws into a frown on Bokuto's lips as Bokuto notices how Akaashi's handwriting gets progressively messier. With every letter that he receives the words on the letter are getting harder to read, ink splatters and smudges on the paper. It doesn't help that the paragraphs start to get shorter and shorter with each passing letter Akaashi sends back.

Bokuto knows Akaashi's handwriting far too well but he knows Akaashi Keiji even more. Something is definitely wrong.

He's a new member of the MSBY team by then, having not been able to visit Akaashi as frequently when Akaashi also graduated. However this time he doesn't waste time, purchasing a ticket and making it over to Akaashi's apartment.

He doesn't know if it's a blessing or curse that his hunch was right.

There is something to be said about seeing someone so dear to you, with far too dark and deep circles under their eyes, room as though a whirlwind had disrupted and destroyed the former order he once recognized and Akaashi -- Akashi who had order at the forefront of his mind, Akaashi who gave reminders and ensuring Bokuto was on track, Akaashi who was always so careful and steady, now huddled up by his desk with trembling hands.

And if Bokuto stays the night, hugging him close and whispering nothing but soothing words to save him from another breakdown. If he shares the bed, letting Akaashi get the sleep he so desperately needed against the crook of his neck, watching over him and pulling him closer into his embrace. If he visits more often than once, bringing food and stories that start to slowly put a smile on Akaashi's face once more, no one would ever need to know save for the two of them.

Well kept moments shared and cherished between them, just like each other's letters they've kept and collected throughout the years. A stack of them safe and sitting snugly in a corner of their bedrooms.

They don't write letters to each other anymore. Instead there are sticky notes on a refrigerator, of food that needs to be purchased, chores to be done and little reminders. Of little doodles within folded paper sneaked into each other's bags, consisting of owls, hearts and smiley faces.

There's no need to write about their everyday lives, not when they get to share it constantly now within the confines of their shared apartment.

And as Bokuto looks to the side, seeing Akaashi leaning against his shoulder and writing something on a few drafts for Udai's next manga, he notices the handwriting once more. It's not as messy as it used to be, but neither is it the same manner Bokuto had grown to recognize. It's getting there though, slowly returning to same careful, steady and eased handwriting he had cherished silently throughout the years.

He kisses Akaashi's head, and knows that it's enough.