#i still feel like i vaguely imagine him with lighter hair but god i dont know | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dothewrite · 7 years

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so a scenario with akaashi, kyoutani (if you do him) and iwaizumi where its like a GANGAU kinda thing and their s/o becomes a target for their rival gang and they kidnap her nd once the guys find her and stuff afterwards they treat her wounds and cuddles everywhere and fluffiness (unless they dont find her??? o.0) up to you but extra points for fluffyness at the enddd

This ended up far too long to be put in one post only, so I hope you don’t mind me breaking this up into several posts for each character like I did with my mafia au. There… might not be as much fluff in this as I expected, but I’ll make it up to you with the upcoming ones, I promise. I hope you like it!

Kyoutani. Iwaizumi.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Akaashi has never had to feel fear like this before, this thudding of his heart in his ears and it’s taking him so much energy to just breathe. He knows that everyone’s looking at him, hyperventilating like a junior on their first mission, but it’s their strategy meeting for the rescue and all he knows is that he can’t focus. He can’t think of anything else but the image of you tied up against the headboard of a bed in a filthy room surrounded by men who don’t know a thing about you.

He’s not deluded enough to think that his gang is any better, but that doesn’t matter. This isn’t a battle of morality- this is a battle to get you back where you belong, and bash those fuckers’ heads in against the concrete floor until they paint the walls crimson. If there’s anything that he’s ever been good at, it would be killing, and loving you.

It’s a tense thirty minutes, but he sits through it, muscles tied up against his bone, fixing him posture rigidly against the conference chair until their boss waves a hand and dismisses them. Akaashi ignores the firm look he’s shot by the boss, a warning to not go too far, but there’s no too far for him. He hasn’t listened to a single word, utterly uncharacteristically, but he knows that his goal is something entirely different. They want you back because it’s a slight on their reputation. He needs you back because there won’t be a night where he doesn’t grieve over you if anything happened.

Akaashi leaves them all behind. The calls and shouts fall on deaf ears- they should have expected as much anyway, picking the silent one to focus on and now they’re paying the price- and he barely registers that it’s drizzling outside in the dim late afternoon glow. The note in blood said six, but it’s four thirty now and already two hours too late for him. He’s still in his suit, fresh from the executive meeting this morning, but this isn’t going to stop him. He cuts a horrifically formidable form as he stalks through the dark alleyways, hidden from anyone else but the scum of society, practiced leather heels pacing silently against the slick stones.

When he arrives, the only thing that looks vaguely out of place on him is the slight dampness of his suit bottoms from the rain. It’s a terrible hideout, Akaashi eyes it critically, but he supposes that their motive wasn’t to hide. It was a temporary storage unit, a meat fridge for them to keep all their necessary bags of flesh ready for the ransoming.

If it’s meat they want to keep in there, it’s meat they’ll get.

None of that cloak and dagger shit, Akaashi steps right into the main foyer and jumps straight up. He launches himself from the banister and grabs hold of the dilapidating chandelier that once upon a time might have looked magnificent in a grand entrance. With an easy lunge, Akaashi swings himself onto the second floor without so much as a whisper of sound. He knows exactly where you are, thanks to the letter that they had sent the group just a few hours ago, and it’s nothing too difficult to find. They were expecting him, if they had any brains at all, and hopefully with a lot of cash in tow after checking out the place. Akaashi comes with his hands full indeed, calves, hips, side pockets all lined with a legendary array of weaponry and ammo, and he hopes that this is enough of a payment that they return you in one piece. He’s not calling it hopeful, he’s calling it a necessity, because if he finds anything more than a scrape on you, they’re not going to be dying anytime soon.

The hallway is lit dimly, age-old candle holders glowing from the shadows, and he has to hold in a scoff. Like some kind of demented welcome mat, it draws him further in until all the lights end at an unlocked door. Akaashi pushes it open with a harsh tap of his toe, opening towards him and he takes the smallest breath before he walks into view.

Perhaps they’re not as smart as he might have imagined, but he firmly ignores your agonizing presence in the back of the room and lets his muscles spring him into the action he was born into. The suffocating, enclosed room folds even further into itself when everyone scatters, scrambling to get away from the madman in the middle, but there isn’t a second where Akaashi doesn’t follow the movements of every single breathing organism inside that god-forsaken place. He cycles through the first clip of ammo in his dual handguns, aiming swiftly and sharply at the foreheads of the first ring of men around you. It’s a hail of wrath and steel, and he keeps in the back of his mind how many more are to go. He counts thirty people in total crammed into this small shithole, and that’s eight down. Snapping his wrists back, he let’s the magazine fall out of his guns and slams new ones in. Nine more down. The weight of his ammo is growing lighter, and Akaashi flips open the magnetic clip to re-holster the gun in his right hand to his waist. He pulls out the uzi strapped to his back, and starts to let it rain, the handgun firmly grasped in his left hand, picking out the people the uzi misses with single-shot accuracy. The room is no longer dim, flashing like lightning in a summer storm, the firepower of the automatic sparkles in a semicircle following his delicate footwork dodging the poor aim of his opponents. It doesn’t take much to take them down- with them so tightly packed, he doesn’t even have to aim for his bullets to hit at least one person. Perhaps they had been expecting him to bring a knife, or maybe something long and fancy, and planned on overwhelming him with numbers once he showed himself to be sufficiently under prepared, but Akaashi wasn’t stupid, and this isn’t his first rescue mission. This was the only one he cared about, however, which prompted him to bring the extra firepower in the first place.

The room rings silent, the thud of the last three bodies hitting the floor along with the soft tinkle of their corresponding bullet shells, announcing their finality with an almost melodic chime. Akaashi drags in the deep breath that he’d forgotten to inhale two minutes ago and stands absolutely still, letting the rush of adrenaline course away with the leftover oxygen back into his head. There isn’t a single sound made, and the longer he stays silent, the longer you also keep your lips closely pressed together.

The thing is, you had seen Akaashi Keiji, your fiance, doing his job before. Far from being an innocent, the two of you had actually met just after him shooting someone in the back in front of you, saving your hide and also scarring you for the next few days, but, you’d accepted it. You’d learned about it, and you know that it’s as much a part of him as he is in your life, but this, this is something completely different.

This isn’t just murder, this is bloodshed, and Akaashi stands right in the center of it, stoic and as unmoving as the glacier in his eyes. His suit isn’t pristine anymore, several shreds hanging off it to his left, and the sleeves dampening with grazes higher up his arm, and his shoes, they shine a dark crimson, glazing the soft italian leather like stained glass. There’s scarlet dripping from a cut on his upper lip, trickling down the corner of his mouth and pooling temptingly at his chin, plump and ready for it to fall, fall to the ground. The only thing that’s still pale is his pallor, and the undeniable sharpness of his collarbone, exposed from a ripped open collar, and it feels like a blade against your own throat, holding your breath in with a gentle graze of an edge. He’s looking right at you now, into you, those navy eyes glowing with simmering rage despite the fact that there’s only the two of you in here, and you struggle, fight, revolt against those ropes holding you back from him. Even though he looks every inch a monster, he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and in that inscrutable curl of his fringe against arched eyebrows, you know that there are only echoes of the same thoughts in his mind.

In a single movement, he falls into you, collapsing on your wounds with almost frightening desperation, and even though his expression discloses nothing more than his usual solemnity, the fingers that press against you, flitting over every cut, every split of fabric-

“Keiji,” you whisper against his hair, almost pressed into your face with fervour, “I’m alright. It’s okay.”

“You’re alright,” he repeats almost in a trance, his head finally rising up to your eye level. His navy burns into yours, and you can see the colour in his face begin to drain back in second by second. “You’re alright.”

You nod, slowly, not wanting to spook him with any sudden actions. “They were just waiting for you. They weren’t going to do anything to me unless you were very late.”

Akaashi doesn’t respond, his mind struggling to wrap around the sudden anger that cracks through him like tectonic plates, but he reaches out to cradle your head in his hands. They’re still incredibly still and nimble, you notice, and none of his anxiousness has bled into body like any average person would.

“You’re coming with me,” he breathes harshly, “you’re not going to leave my apartment for at least a week.”

“My, that’s bold,” you grin, and he shoots you a withering look.

“For security reasons.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he mocks, and it makes you grin a little wider because this Akaashi you rarely get to see- one whose humour starts fraying at the edges when he’s shattered from a tiring day. “Please take things seriously. You were just kidnapped for ransom by a dangerous group of men.”

“And my boyfriend killed them all within ten minutes,” you retort, “if anyone’s dangerous it’s you.”

“I am dangerous.”

“Only when it comes to jokes,” you tease. It seems to be the last straw for him because Akaashi lets out a loud huff and tosses you over his shoulder, chair and all. You yelp in surprise, suddenly much higher off the floor than you’d like, but he doesn’t even pause as he heads towards the door.

He’s not looking at you now, no longer poring through your soul like leaves in a book, and for the first time that day, you let yourself crumble into his palm resting heavily against your lower back. Burying your face against his shoulder blade in determined silence, you let the ragged, exhausted breaths tear past your throat and Akaashi tightens his grip on you, a wordless promise, wrapping around you, that he’ll never let you be broken like this again.

#akaashi keiji #female original character #gang au #sfw #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #i writes the haikyuu

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