shelter. f!reader x akaashi

[ You have one new message. Beep. ]

“Hey, [NAME], it’s Jun. I’ve tried calling your cell but you’re not picking up. Is this what our relationships come to? I know you can be a cold bitch but now you’re not even bothering to answer me? Don’t you have anything to say?”

You took a long sip of your green tea.

“I was right about you. You don’t care about anything. Not yourself, not me, not anyone. You never did. I guess this is the end. I won’t miss you.” Beep.

He was right. You laughed softly as you set your cup down and detangled yourself from your blanket. You weren’t quite drunk but mixing anxiety medication and alcohol had not been a good idea. He really was right, you didn’t give a shit about yourself, did you? Why did you even bother dating, then?

You probably thought he was different. What a cop out.

You tossed your sheets onto the couch and picked up your tea. It felt warm in your hand, though it wasn’t doing much to help sober you up. You stumbled into the kitchen, cursing softly when some warm tea sloshed out of the cup and onto your shirt.

Your homework sat untouched on the kitchen table. Your women’s study class textbook and crumbled up pieces of paper scattered the table. Physics, English, and your half-open laptop took up all the space, and it was driving you crazy. Just looking at the unfinished work sent jolts of anxiety through you.

You dropped your cup. Glass scattered the floor and all you could do was stare, watch as your thighs began to bleed from the excess shards. It didn’t feel wrong, and it didn’t hurt, but you didn’t want your cat stepping on the glass so you cleaned it up. You felt glass dig into your knees as you swept up the mess into the trash. Your cat watched you from where he was perched on top of the fridge, his eyes bright and his bushy tail snapping side to side.

You wanted to cry.

Eventually, you managed to clean it all up. You wiped your legs, pressed a few stray bandages to the cuts, and changed into a new pair of shorts.

Your phone began to ring. You wondered why you ever bothered to install a landline.

“[NAME], can you call me? Your father and I are worried. You haven’t talked to us in weeks. Please. I love you.”

You stared at your phone, cheek pressed against your hand. You didn’t know why you were avoiding your family. You just didn’t feel like talking to anyone, really. That and you were so busy with school and work it just consumed you. Even if you wanted to catch up, it’d be next to impossible.

You decided to go on the balcony. It was the best place to clear your head and honestly, you were too tipsy and too tired to do anything productive. The cool wind felt nice and you shut your eyes, leaned against the railing. Sweat lined your forehead and you let the wind dry it away. Suddenly, you really felt like crying, but instead of holding it back you let yourself.

You were a quiet crier; no sounds left your throat as the tears fell, fat and warm, and you leaned forward further, eyes shut tight. You took a shaky breath, let your shoulders tremble. You thought about sitting on the railing, maybe letting yourself slip. It was only three stories up but it was high enough to kill you.

You opened your eyes. You went back inside and you didn’t sleep.



The moving truck caught your attention as you headed back home from classes.

It hadn’t been a good day, though none of your days have been very good. Missed assignments piled up and you had a talk with your teacher, who chewed you out then resigned himself and told you that he’d give you a chance to make up some of the work with an extra assignment. Maybe you should have considered that a good day, but it just made you feel more depressed.

Tea in hand, you saw the truck outside your building. The back was wide open and a few boys you never saw before were unloading boxes and furniture.

One had wild hair, white and black at the roots, another was tall with messy black hair, and finally there was a stunningly beautiful man with curly dark hair and a stern face. You ducked your head, cheeks red, and quickened your pace. They were right in front of your apartment, and you realized as you passed the truck that they were moving into the vacant apartment on the first floor right below your third floor room.

You made eye contact as you reached the stairs, and the white haired one beamed and waved at you.

“Good afternoon!” he shouted. You jumped, cheeks turning redder. “Akaashi, look, your new neighbor!”

You stiffened, unable to bolt. You supposed you could bring out the old social mask you used to wear everyday before it got to be way too much and you sort of just became a recluse. You had gotten so used to using it.

The curly-haired boy looked over at you and you felt your heartbeat increase. He slowly walked over, since the white-haired guy wasn’t leaving the position right in front of you.

“Hi,” he greeted. “I’m Akaashi Keiji. I’m moving into apartment 105.”

“Hi,” you said quietly. “[F/N]. I live on the third floor.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, nodding. “Bokuto-san, as much as I can appreciate you trying to make sure I know the faces of my new neighbors, you don’t need to stop and greet every single one that walks by.”

Bokuto frowned. “It’s called being a friendly neighbor!” You smiled a bit. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you!”

“Likewise.” You hurried up the stairs and went straight to your apartment.



You were out of beer.

You closed your fridge and pressed your forehead against the door, letting your eyes slip shut. It’s been a few months since Akaashi moved in, and you’d begun noticing him, which was bad. He’d wave at you if you ran into each other. You held a conversation a few times in the laundry room. His smile made you feel warm and a little less hopeless.

But it was bad, because you were incapable of caring, and you ruined every person you touched.

You didn’t want to ruin him.

You locked the door behind you and headed for the store. There was a small 24-hour convenience store within walking distance, your favorite go-to place. The same cashier always happened to be there and you two had developed an odd sort of friendship. It was a nice place to walk to when crying on your balcony didn’t ease any of the ache inside of you.

The store door rang as you stepped inside and sure enough, there he was, the same employee in his white polo shirt and gaudy nametag.

“Good evening, [L/N]-san.”

“Sugawara-kun,” you greeted, a light smile gracing your features.

“Here for some beer?” he asked.

“You know me so well.” You headed for the clear fridge doors lining the wall, already eyeing a pack of IPA beer. They got you drunker a lot quicker than any of the lighter stuff. You headed for the counter and paused, a bit flustered upon realizing another customer had come in while you were grabbing your drinks.

“[L/N]-san, honestly, sometimes I worry about your amount of alcohol consumption,” Suga chided when he spot you. The customer, Akaashi in all his glory, turned to look at you when Suga broke off their conversation to tease you.

You flushed.

“Shut up,” you grumbled as you all but slammed the six-pack onto the register counter.

“Ah, Akaashi-kun, this is --“

“He knows me,” you interrupted, not sure why the idea of Suga introducing you was so embarrassing. “We’re neighbors.”

A sudden realization overtook him that confused you immensely but you shrugged it off as Suga, snickering, scanned your drinks. You didn’t notice Akaashi’s glare aimed right for the silver-haired male, too busy digging through your wallet.

Akaashi muttered a greeting to you then slunk off to get whatever it was he came here for. Once he was gone you shoved a twenty at Suga.

“Okay, fess up, how do you know him?”

“Why?” Suga asked as he counted your change. He grinned, eyes never leaving the register.

“No reason,” you said.

“I know him from high school,” he said. “He’s really quiet and serious, but he’s nice. And he can be pretty funny. Sometimes he doesn’t even mean to be, which just makes it funnier.”

You found a small smile curling over your lips. Suga was right; you noticed that too, during your brief conversations. It was…endearing.

“Aw, you’re smiling,” he cooed as he handed you the change. You snatched it away, cheeks red. “You’re so adorable.”

“Shut up already, god,” you hissed as you shoved your change away. “Quit acting like an annoying older brother teasing his little sister about her crush.”

“So you admit you have a crush on him.”

Your eyes widened. “N-No, that’s n-not--“

His sharp laughter interrupted your stammering. You glared at him and slung your purse properly over your shoulder, cheeks faded to a light pink by then.

“You’re terrible,” you said.

He just winked and blew you a kiss as you turned on your heel and hurried out of the store, beer case resting against your thigh.

You set the beer on your kitchen counter as soon as you returned, placing the receipt next to it. Before you turned to open the fridge something caught your eye; scribbled writing on the back. Squinting, you flipped the receipt over and let out an astonished laugh.

It was Suga’s phone number with a message; feel free to text me if you need any romantic advice lil sis!

“You really are terrible,” you muttered fondly.



Laundry day.

You dreaded it every week; you had a strict routine and that included carrying your laundry to the apartment Laundromat to wash your clothes every Saturday night at 7 PM. You had a particularly hard day and just wanted to sleep, but you also needed clean clothes, so you tied up your hair into a hideously lazy ponytail, and off you went.

It was empty, thankfully, so your mood lifted just a little as you dropped your dirty laundry basket on the floor and prepped the washer. Once that familiar rumble began you sat down, crossed your legs, and pulled out your phone. You had begun texting Suga regularly, which had helped you a lot this past week and a half. His teasing, his sage advice, and his encouragement had really made it easier to drag yourself through the passing weeks. With exams around the corner, it was a welcome distraction.

^{[TO: big bro
so did u talk to that guy u like today or did u chicken out again ]}

Once again, pestering Suga about his love life was probably your new favorite past time. Not only did it distract you from your own troubles (and love life, not that you’d really call it that) but his reactions were hilarious.

<sup>[FROM: big bro
okay first of all, shhh. second of all, i said Hi. so in your face. ]

[TO: big bro
wow congrats u said one word to him after pining after him for months]

[FROM: big bro
i really regret telling you about daichi ]

[TO: big bro
:^) ]</sup>
It was after you hit send that the door opened and in came Akaashi. He had a basket full of clothes and you turned away quickly, fiddling with your phone but sneaking peeks at him as he walked to a washer across from yours. He looked over at you and nodded. You nodded back.

Riveting.

“D-Do you usually do your laundry on Saturdays?” you asked, not sure why. He seemed surprised that you were talking to him, but it didn’t look like your voice was unwelcome.

“I usually do my laundry Friday,” he said coolly as he pressed in his washer settings. “But Bokuto-san insisted I go with him to a local art show.”

“Hm,” you said as you drew your legs to your chest. It was unlike you to start conversations and even more unlike you to keep them going. But Akaashi’s voice was so soothing and deep. You wanted him to keep talking.

“He’s the one I met when you first moved in, right? With the uh…hair.” You lifted your hands and tried to mimic his wild hair. Akaashi snorted, but he didn’t smile -- yet somehow you knew the sound was akin to laughter.

“Yeah, that’s him. He’s an art major,” he explained as he sat down on the same bench as you, to your surprise (and delight).

“How long have you been friends?”

“Since high school.”

“Wow, that’s a long time,” you marveled. You had lost all your high school friends once college began, but you decided to keep that depressing bit of information to yourself.

“It is,” Akaashi agreed. He looked over at you then looked away. “You and Suga-san…what about you?”

“Oh,” you said. “We met not long after I first moved here.” He was your only friend. “He’s a good friend.”

“I see.”

“He told me you knew each other in high school?” You ignored your phone as it buzzed, probably Suga responding to your condescending smiley face.

“Yeah. We didn’t go to the same school but we played on rival volleyball teams,” he explained. This was the most you’d ever head him talk. You didn’t really want him to stop.

“You played volleyball?”

“Mhm.”

“Did Bouto-san play, too?”

“He was our captain,” he said.

“Oh wow, somehow I’m not surprised,” you said, remembering his loud, enthusiastic presence. You wish you could be like that. “He seems like a good guy.”

“He is,” Akaashi said with a small nod, his eyes lifting to meet yours. Your cheeks felt warm.

“Wh..What about the other guy who was with you?” you blurted out before the conversation died. He blinked.

“Oh. That’s Kuroo-san. He’s Bokuto’s friend.” He tilted his head at your questioning look. “Ah. He played, too.”

You smiled. “I wish I had played sports back then.”

“I can teach you sometime, if you’d like.”

You both seemed shocked at the invitation -- Akaashi leaned back a bit, as if he wasn’t sure if he really said that. His face looked a little red.

“I…uh…yes. I’d like that, I think,” you muttered. You were too busy looking at your hands to see the ghost of a smile cross his face.

Beeeeeep.

You startled, apologizing softly as you rushed to transfer your wet clothes to the dryer. You couldn’t believe you two had been chatting for 30 minutes. You hadn’t even talked to your parents lately for more than a few minutes.

When you sat back down you two ended up talking more -- about your families, high school, college (he went to the same university, to your delight), and other random things that seemed meaningless, but to you were absolutely fascinating. When both of your clothes had finished drying you two walked back together, the conversation died down to a comfortable silence.

“It was nice being able to talk to you,” he said softly once you reached your stairs. You flushed and muttered an ‘I feel the same’ before you said a quick goodbye and rushed up the stairs. Once the door was shut behind you, you dropped your clean clothes all over the wooden entrance floor and whipped out your phone.

Ignoring his previous texts, you just sent one.

<sup>[TO: big bro
akaashi and i did laundry together and talked for like 2 hours and i think u were right i think i like him and im so screwed]

[FROM: big bro
get sum]</sup>

You hated him.



Your pills were scattered in the sink and your stomach felt like it was going to explode.

Exam week was over but your anxiety hadn’t eased in the least. You had barely slept and it felt like every night, you were sobbing on your balcony as if hoping some miracle would happen and sweep away all your worries.

Suga’s texts did help, but not enough to stop the anxiety attacks and breakdowns. Akaashi’s frequent volleyball lessons at the apartment’s outside court helped to temporarily make you forget the piles of study packets at your place, but in the end, nothing could help you avoid the consuming, paralyzing self loathing and fear that was buzzing through you.

Your medicine wasn’t helping anymore, not well enough at least. Your hands still shook as you stared at the small white pills, stuck to your damp sink. You didn’t want to pick them off.

What would happen, you wondered, if you just took them all at once? Would your anxiety dissipate at all? Would you fall asleep and never wake up? Both seemed like tempting options.

You sunk to the bathroom floor, suddenly unable to breathe.

Your mother left another message. You had called her back three days ago and her voice had been shaky as she thanked you quietly and you two talked. The conversation had lasted ten minutes, a new record.

But you didn’t pick up today. She didn’t sound as worried as she did last time.

You suddenly wanted to call her but you couldn’t move. Tears fell from your eyes and your hands shook as you reached up, struggling to heft yourself into a standing position by gripping the edge of the sink. Your feet felt like lead. You felt yourself slipping again and you tried to stay grounded -- you grasped for the rail on the wall but stumbled again, knocking your knee against the toilet.

You felt pain explode throughout your knees when you fell, but somehow you managed to avoid hitting your head on the edge of the sink. You stood again, using the sink as leverage, and saw your knees were bleeding. You had landed on something on the floor but you were too upset to see what it was.

Things had seemed fine before, so why…why now…?

You stumbled toward the balcony, your knees throbbing, and grasped the railing as you leaned forward gasping for breath. The wind was cool but you kept sweating. You kept bleeding.

Then, from next to you, “[L/N]-san?”

You jolted, your red eyes wide as you looked over and saw Akaashi on the balcony a few apartments down. Why was he there?

“You’re bleeding.”

You were unable to respond, still struggling to find leverage to ground you, still fighting to breathe and the urges to swallow every pill in your apartment--

He slipped away behind the door.

Of course he left. Everyone did after they saw you like this. After you stopped texting them, calling them, accepting their invitations to do things. As soon as they saw how much you hated yourself, how anxious you got over every little thing, the way you broke down when things got hard. They always left, and that was fine, because you would leave you too.

Suddenly a big, soft hand was on your back and you gulped in air.

“I’m sorry. Your front door was unlocked,” Akaashi’s gentle voice spoke next to you. To your surprise, you felt a wave of serenity wash through you and you were able to breathe again.

You turned toward him, still crying.

“Can I touch you?” he asked gently. You were unsure of what to do so you just nodded numbly. Without any hesitation he pulled you against his chest. You felt another wave of peace shoot through your body and you went limp in his arms, eyes slipping shut as you breathed in against his shirt.

His hand was moving up and down, up and down against your back in a soothing motion.

Once you stopped shaking he spoke.

“Did something happen?”

You shook your head, refusing to lift your face from his chest.

“Are your knees alright?”

You didn’t answer. Gently, he stood and took you with him. You clung to his shirt, head hung, and he led you inside your apartment. He had you sit down on the couch and disappeared for a moment before returning with a first aid kit -- did he go to the apartment a few doors down to get it?

“Sorry,” you croaked. Your voice was raspy from crying.

“Please don’t apologize,” he said, in that same gentle voice. He began to treat your bleeding knees. “I just hope you feel better now.”

You did, a little bit.

“Why were you in an apartment on the third floor?”

He smiled a bit as he placed a bandage on your left knee. “I’ve been watching apartment 310’s cat while they’re on vacation.”

“Yachi-san has a cat?”

“Yes, and she’s a demon,” he said forlornly. You giggled. “She doesn’t like me very much.”

“Maybe it’s your stern eyes,” you said.

“I have stern eyes?

“I like them, though,” you said softly. He smiled and the sight made your heart jump into your throat.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he said suddenly. He shut the first aid kit and stood, then sat next to you. His hand, large and rough, rested on top of yours. “But if you want to, I’ve been told I’m a good listener.”

Usually you’d refuse, but something made you want to accept his offer.

“Yeah.” You let yourself lean against his arm. “Okay.”



You and Akaashi got closer after that…unfortunate incident. You called your mother back, then made an appointment and got new medication. You passed your exams, and then summer was here and things seemed better, just a little bit.

Except for one thing.

“Say that again,” you demanded, expression blank.

Sugawara laughed nervously. “So, I know Akaashi is gonna kill me for telling you, but I can tell you both like each other and it’s getting frustrating just watching--“

“Suga.”

He grinned again, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in a typical sheepish cute anime guy action. Suga was literally a cute anime boy it was ridiculous.

“Akaashi sort of kind of knew about you before you even talked.”

You stared.

“He kind of had a crush on you before your little wow-we-both-know-suga-amazing-whoa incident.”

You took a breath. “How. What.”

“There was a mysterious pretty girl he saw in his apartment complex that would cry on her balcony, or just stare at the sky.” He put his hand to his heart, as theatric as always. “Then he found out her name was [F/N].”

Your face felt so hot you legitimately thought you might pass out from heat stroke.

“That’s why you two looked like you were gossiping that day in the store!” you gasped, affronted. You pointed at Suga accusingly. “I can’t believe this.”

“Please stop making me suffer and just confess already,” he said, hilariously put out as he watched you hopefully. You bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Akaashi would be ruined if you dared lay a finger on him.

“Why?”

You scrunched up your nose. “How can I confess when my lovely brother won’t even ask his crush out on a date?”

Suga gawked. “You…you little minx.”

“Meow.”

“A minx isn’t a cat.”

“Close enough.”

He grinned. “How about this. If I ask Daichi-san out, you have to ask Akaashi out. No need to confess right off the bat. Just ask him out on a date. And make sure he knows it’s a date. Deal?”

You stared wide-eyed at him, stunned into silence. It was tempting, having an excuse to spend more time alone with Akaashi. Also, seeing Suga happy. If Akaashi rejected you it wouldn’t be a big deal because it’s not like you confessed the very deep and very real feelings you have for the boy, right?

You knew you’d regret it, but--

“Fine. You got a deal, big bro.”

“Game on, lil sis.”

Not even two days later you got a text while you were having an impromptu volleyball lesson with Akaashi. You two were taking a break, sweating and smiling as you sat on the bench and went to town on the water bottles you had brought along.

You peeked at your phone and spit water everywhere.

“[L/N]-san, are you alright?” Akaashi asked, concerned.

You stared at your phone, eyes wide. Suga had sent you a picture of him with Daichi, his arm around the other male, winking at the camera. Daichi was smiling shyly, cheeks red. The caption was ‘he said yes, went on date yesterday, made out for an hour after. ur turn (;’

He worked fast.

You felt a sudden wave of confidence, oddly enough, as you put your phone away into your bag. Akaashi was still looking at you, though the concern had disappeared while you were gawking at your phone. Instead, his eyes were gentle as you lifted your gaze to meet his. You felt your heart stutter.

You remembered his warm hand on your back, the soothing circles he drew on your skin. His soft voice, the soothing hums as you cried into his shirt. The way he let you fall asleep on him with bloody knees and a fucked up heart, but he stayed with you all night anyway. Made sure you were okay before he left -- he even texted you all day after, checking in every couple of hours.

You remembered Suga, who would never lie about something like this, telling you that Akaashi has liked you longer than you’ve liked him.

And here he was, looking at you like you were the goddamn moon and stars.

“I like you,” you blurted. You thought you’d feel ashamed, upset, mortified, when you said those words. Instead you felt free. Relieved. Lighter. Even if he rejected you, somehow, you knew it’d be okay. Your anxiety was silent, that voice that told you what could go wrong and what was going to go wrong oddly mute as you gazed at Akaashi’s face, letting the words hang in the air.

He stared at you. Then he smiled.

You felt like you were going to pass out.

He’d smiled before, sure. Small smiles, a little tilt at the corner of his lips. But he was absolutely grinning at you now, eyes lit up and cheeks flushed, and you wondered if he’d always looked at you like this and you had been too wrapped up in yourself to notice.

“I hope you’re not saying this so I’ll go easy on you,” he said, nodding toward the court. His voice was playful, giddy even, and you laughed.

“I swear, that’s not it.”

“Well, that’s good.” He leaned close. His hand slid across the bench and ghosted over the top of your hand. Without thinking you grabbed his hand, squeezed it tight. “I…like you, too. A lot. Embarrassingly so.”

“So I’ve heard,” you murmured.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” You smiled to yourself and you two sat like that for a few moments, silently holding hands, watching the empty court for no reason other than to bask in the moment you just shared.

“Do you want to see a movie. After this?” Akaashi asked suddenly. His voice was soft, floating into the air, non-disruptive but still jolting. You felt your body buzz with excitement.

“I’d love to.” You peeked up at him. “It’s a date?”

He smiled that wide smile that had your heart roaring, and said, “It’s a date.”




<sup>[ TO: Suga-san
Did you tell her??? ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
tell who what? ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
OH ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
……noooo? ]

[ TO: Suga-san
The fact that you made a point to type out that ‘no’ in a blatantly suspicious way tells me that you did. ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
I WAS SICK OF U TWO MAKING EYES AT EACH OTHER THEN ANGSTING ABOUT UR ~UNREQUITED CRUSH~ TO ME OK???? ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
you 2 were like a freaking linkin park song ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
no, you had more of a Simple Plan vibe to u…. ]

[ TO: Suga-san
what ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
whatever, not important. u should be thanking me. just call me cupid ;^) ]

[ TO: Suga-san
no ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
): ]

[ TO: Suga-san
…..thanks ]

[ FROM: Suga-san
(: ]</sup>