akaashi keiji x f!reader ; angst

the rain was hitting the windowpane in a frantic, uneven rhythm, but inside the room, the silence was deafening. akaashi sat at the edge of the mattress, his head buried in his hands. his fingers were tangled in his dark, messy curls, pressing hard against his skull as if he could force the overwhelming noise in his mind to stop.

​you stood a few feet away, holding a discarded sweater, your heart shattering into a million jagged pieces just looking at him.

​he was falling apart right in front of you. the stoic, unshakeable akaashi keiji was breaking, his chest heaving with shallow, ragged breaths. he was always the one fixing everyone else. he spent his entire life being the anchor, the calm in the middle of a storm, the reliable hand that mended broken pieces before anyone else even noticed they were cracked.

​but who was supposed to fix him?

​“akaashi,” you whispered, taking a cautious step forward, your voice trembling. “please let me help you. let me in.”

​he didn’t look up. a bitter, breathless laugh escaped his lips, sounding so foreign and hollow it made you flinch. “you can’t,” he muttered, his voice thick and strained. “you can’t fix this.”

​“i can try,” you pleaded, dropping to your knees in front of him, reaching out to cup his face. “just tell me what to do. tell me how to make it better.”

​when he finally raised his head, the sheer exhaustion in his blue-green eyes knocked the air right out of your lungs. there were no tears, just a vast, empty wasteland of defeat. he didn’t pull away from your touch, but he didn’t lean into it either. he just let your hands rest there, heavy and useless, just like you are.

​“that’s the problem,” he whispered, and the absolute raw vulnerability in his tone was sharper than any knife. “no matter how much you love me, it doesn’t change what’s wrong with me. i spend every single second of my life giving every piece of myself away until there’s nothing left. i do everything right. i try so hard. so fucking hard.”

​his voice cracked, a devastating sound in the quiet room.

​“so why am i still like this? why do i still feel so empty? why can’t i ever be enough to fix my own head?”

​you wanted to scream against the unfairness of it. you wanted to pour your own soul into the cracks of his, to stitch up the invisible wounds that were bleeding him dry. but as you looked into his hollow gaze, the brutal reality settled into your bones.

​your love wasn’t a cure. it would never be. you could offer him the world, you could bleed yourself dry trying to patch him up, but you couldn’t fix a man who believed he was fundamentally broken.

​“i’m sorry,” akaashi murmured, gently pulling your hands away from his face and letting them drop into your lap. “i’m so sorry.”

n: aha

© showhay — don’t copy nor translate without my permission. i do not own any of the photos that i have used. credits to all the rightful owners !

a/n: yall i worked my butt off for this one 😭 idk i just thought it would be a cute way to propose and i wanted to challenge myself so thats how this ended up

i CANNOT write poetry. most of the rhymes are forced but i tried my best </3

lord i reread it and all i have to say is... to my english teacher im so sorry.

it had all started with a text from keiji, your loving boyfriend of 4 years now.

this wasn't the first time that he'd asked you to read over something for him. and you knew he truly valued your perspective. because when one spends the whole day reading, suddenly small things completely go unnoticed.

keiji was incredible at his job, but as a result of his dedication, he very often worked til incredibly late hours. but he was an even more incredible boyfriend, and the second you wanted to spend time with him, he dropped everything to do exactly that. he was your anchor, your comfort, your person. he was so considerate, so thoughtful, and so loving, even if it wasn't through very many words. it wasn't that he was shy, exactly, more so just reserved. and he had such an intelligent, complex, overthinking mind that it was occasionally difficult to get him out of his own thoughts. but once again, you wouldn't trade him for anyone in the world.

you headed to the living room, indeed finding a sheet of paper on the table. hm, strange. oftentimes, he gave you entire novels, manuscripts, and lengthy works to read over, but hardly ever just a single page. it's alright, though, you wouldn't complain about it. you sat down on the couch, put on your reading glasses, and read.

"i ponder once more a concept so confusing,

love, what does it mean to have someone you're truly choosing?

you are a living example of that my dear

so many risks that come with loving me, yet you stayed without fear

much i could say to try and express how i feel

would you listen and know that all i say is real?

you bring me so much joy i can hardly express,

please know i'm here for you always, even when you feel like a mess

make it easy for me to smile, that's what you always do for

me, and hearing you laugh- good lord, you're who i adore

the words can't explain how i feel, with you is when i am

happiest; to spend the rest of my life with you, that's just my jam

man, i know i'm far from perfect and will never be, but i pray

on everything that you'll graciously choose to stay

this universe is surely undeserving of you,

earth has nothing that compares, this i always knew

and it's as though an angel speaks every time your lips

say 'i love you', and it's like my stomach flips

yes is the answer to whatever you ask,

to whoever sees, i hope they know this isn't a mask

this is what i've learned about love through our years,

will you smile, laugh, cry, and wipe away my tears?

you will, i know you will.

marry me please, even if i'm just little old

me?"

how sweet of a poem, you thought to yourself. whoever would receive this would be really lucky. you grabbed a pen, about to start annotating and leaving comments on the paper, when your eyes landed on something small at bottom of the page.

at the very end lay a short, handwritten message:

"roses are red

violets are blue

read the first word of each line

for the big question i'm asking you"

sincerely, your fiancé (hopefully), keiji

P.S.: Oh, and I don't think it's going to be good, so don't expect much🥲🤝

akaashi keiji x f!reader

it’s your birthday with keiji as your long distance boyfriend.

wc: 1.4k, HAPPY BIRTHDAY SURA AKAASHI :333

hanoi in may is a humid, suffocating embrace that clings to your skin like a desperate ex-lover, and honestly, you feel it in your bones. it’s your birthday, the sun is blazing over the old quarter, and the cacophony of a thousand motorbikes buzzing through the streets outside your window sounds like a swarm of angry hornets. you’re currently sitting on your balcony, nursing a lukewarm egg coffee, feeling significantly less like a birthday queen and significantly more like a wilted piece of lettuce.

the problem with long-distance dating is the gnawing, persistent ache in your ribcage, the one that makes you want to hollow out your chest and shove a pillow in there just to feel some semblance of warmth. akaashi is thousands of miles away in tokyo, probably doing something annoyingly productive, like analyzing game footage or organizing his bookshelf by color. he texted you a ‘happy birthday’ at midnight, but the silence following it has been heavy, a thick, velvet curtain drawn across the day.