Hello, I don't know if you are taking requests but I was wondering if you could make a female reader x Aki Hayakawa where they are both a couple (they have been dating for a while) and she moves in with him so she helps him deal with his roommates (including Nayuta because she is very cute) I don't know if I explained myself well, do what you want hahaha I only ask that it be fun and fluffy
pink cheeks and hot coffee | aki hayakawa x reader
synopsis: 8 months ago, in the cold Tokyo snow, you met him. Time-skip, and you're moving in with him, and meeting the people closest to him. Aki Hayakawa truly is a rom-com dream.
[ 2.8k words — fluff — no warnings ]
author's note:
uuuugh this took me a month to complete im so sorry to who requested this i've been infinitely busy :( changed some stuff up & left some key aspects of the request out, so let me know if you want me to continue this story rather than stop here. + not sure if this is ooc or not. fujimoto took my babies away from me so i havent seen their personality in forever dont beat me up pls
8 months ago, you met Aki Hayakawa in the café a block from your apartment. Having just moved to Tokyo, you needed something familiar – thankfully, cafés are essentially the same everywhere. He ordered his coffee black – and you only remembered because that’s weird, ew – and shot you two fleeting glances before awkwardly returning to staring out the window.
Ten minutes later, you saw him leave a nice sum of yen on the table, exiting the café with a ding as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket. Naturally, cigarettes repel you – secondhand smoke, ew again – but you shrugged and slid out of your booth, leaving the money necessary to cover your meal and then some, your shoes crunching the snow as you left the warm café. To be fair, you just wanted to test your luck – he’s cute and you like to talk. The worst he could do is start running in the opposite direction.
“Hi.” You breathed, cold fog punctuating your words.
He gave you a quizzical look, almost annoyed, even, and you chewed down on your bottom lip, regretting your bold choice already. He returned his gaze to his cigarette, flicking on the lighter and directing it to the end of the stick.
“Hello. Can I help you?”
“Right. Sorry. I noticed you –” You drew a blank. What’d you notice? Quick! Lie – he’s too cute. “Had the new Onitsukas. I like the, um, colorway. Black and grey. Suits your vibe.” You gesture to his black and grey Onitsuka Tigers, laced with matching black threads.
“Oh.” Confusion settled deeper into the man’s face, but a fresh pink tint decorated his cheeks. “Right.” He looked down, kicking some snow around and checking out his Tigers as if he forgot they were there. “Thank you.”
“I’m a big shoe fan myself, you know.” What a lie. You gave him a meek smile and kicked your Isabel Marants into the air for him to see. “The viral ones. Sold out everywhere. Couldn’t get them anywhere – well, except for one place. I stood in the rain for these.” Another lie. You ordered these online on a whim, because your best friend, Lou, said they’d look good on you and you were desperate for some new fashion options.
“Uh… okay,” His ears were red by now. Are you annoying him? Why did you think he cared about shoes? Get this guy’s number and get out of here. “That’s cool.”
You scratch your neck, running out of things to say. Ugh. Whatever. “I’m kind of new here. I was hoping I could get a friend or two, so, um…” you press your lips together, digging your phone out of your jacket’s pocket. His lips curled faintly upward when he saw your Sonny Angel glued to the back of your stickered phone case, but you handed him the overly decorated phone and pulled up the keypad screen anyway, hoping he got the gist.
Thankfully, he did. Aki snuffed the cigarette out under his shoe and sniffed through his frost-nipped, red nose. “Uh, I’m Aki. Aki Hayakawa.” He finally gave you a lopsided, awkward grin as he turned your phone back to you – with his number typed in it. Score! Cute guy’s number in your phone on just week 2 in Tokyo. Seems the ¥1.7k spent on YesStyle for this new-and-hip lip tint didn’t go to waste.
You nodded, smiling as you stared at the white numbers. By now, passersby were starting to notice your awkward exchange, but when have you ever been able to keep your mouth shut? “Thank you – I’ll text you. Also, why do you order your coffee black?”
—
aki my baby: I’m going to stop by the corner store before I come over to help you pack. Do you want anything?
You roll over on your bed and pick up your phone, checking out the notification. Behind it, a picture of you and your boyfriend, Aki, on a Ferris wheel. Aki is pictured with a downwards smile and a comically large corndog in hand, while you grin ear to ear, holding up a peace sign. It’s a beautiful picture, with all the night city lights in the back and your hair blowing just right in the high wind. You stare at your room, boxes vacant of any item when today is your move-in day. You should probably stop reminiscing and get on that.
You: no ty
aki my baby: ??? Are you sure?
aki my baby: [1 Attachment]
A picture of your favorite gummy bears. Okay, it looks like you forgot that. Aki: 1. You: 0.
You: omg
You: wait
You: yes those ones
You: thank u. i love u… ( ͒ ́ඉ .̫ ඉ ̀ ͒)...
aki my baby: I love you too. See you in a bit.
It’s been maybe two and a half years into your relationship with Aki Hayakawa, and you already have a vision board in your closet for the wedding. Well, no, not really, but now that the idea has come up… you’re seriously considering it.
Aki is like a dream-come-true, rom-com movie kind of boyfriend – that boy next door, best friend’s older brother vibe. He’s almost fake. Your life right now is what 13-year-old you watched through a screen, and you love that – and him. He knows your favorite flowers, favorite TV show, favorite movie, favorite book, all 20 of your favorite songs, which lyrics you like most out of each of them, and how many times you cried over losing your favorite hoodie – which he promptly found 2 hours later because he was there, front and center, to count all of the times you cried – making him the perfect boyfriend. To top off this quintessential boyfriend act, he – reluctantly – offered you a spot at his place, since you got tired of everything breaking down at yours.
However, there is one thing missing.
Aki had previously refused to let you meet his three friends – roommates? Siblings? Children? Whatever. All that you know of them is that they cause a ton of trouble for him.
You just brushed it off. I mean, who are you to request for even more of his personal life than however much you know right now? But… you’ve always been just a little curious. Anyone would want to show off their partner, right?
They sound interesting enough from the tales Aki tells you. He only spoke of them in passing: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the bathtub, sleeping on the toilet, roleplaying as a “queen” and her lowly subordinates, and an overwhelming number of dogs. You have to meet them. It’s a risible concept really – how’d he end up with them if he’s so… reserved? Then again, how’d he end up with you?
Di-i-uhh—thunk!
Oh. Right. The doorbell is broken too.
“I’m coming!” Two and a half years ago, the doorbell made the same, ugly “thunk” sound when Aki came to pick you up for the date – or hangout, whatever you wanna call it – that made you official, so you supposed it was alright to leave it broken. For memories.
It was on the rooftop of your apartment building, so you didn’t think anything special of it – until he started dropping indirect, heavy hints like “You’re so pretty… uh, you always have been,” followed up by “You’d be even prettier as my partner.” Well, the latter was mumbled under his breath, and you had to fill in the blanks, so you’re not 100% sure if you’re quoting it verbatim. Regardless, it was cute, he was – is – cute, and his personality is cute – which checks all of your boxes. So, you said yes. And in the end, the doorbell never got fixed. He asked you about it a couple of months ago, and instead of telling him the whole story, you just told him it was important that it was kept that way. He didn’t question you any further, because you started shoving this new recipe you found on Instagram into his mouth.
“Hi, baby,” This long, yet your stomach still flips at his every word.
“Hi,” By now, you’re practically cheesing. He steps aside and invites himself into the apartment he practically shares – well, now shared – with you.
“You haven’t packed?” Oh. Too busy eating chips and watching random re-runs of your favorite TV shows, but you won’t tell him that.
“What?” You look around, feigning innocence, and throw your hands up with a smile. “Sooooorry. I’ll get on it now. With you here, it’ll be super fast.” At this, Aki just smiled and shook his head, putting his house slippers on (I told you, he practically shared this apartment with you) and shuffled into your kitchen, leaning on the island.
“I talked to my, uh, roommates today.” He said, scratching the side of his neck.
Your eyes widen. “You’re just now telling them I’m moving in?”
Aki slid his tongue over his teeth and loosened his grip on the counter behind him, watching you. “Yeah. You know Denji – well, no, you don’t, not yet – but he’s been dying to meet you for a while now, and if I told him too early, he’d never shut up about you moving in until you did.”
You smiled at him, shoving some stuff into the boxes in your living room. “Denji sounds like more fun than you are,” you joked. “Are you gonna come and help me pack, or are you here to watch me do it?”
He sighed, walking over to the empty box adjacent to yours. “This is unpaid labor. Definitely illegal.”
“You came here, willingly.” You pointed out, then leaned over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “There. I paid you. Totally legal.”
Aki points to his lips. “That’s minimum wage. I deserve a bonus, since I’m working last minute, don’t I?”
—
“That’s the last one.” Aki huffed and smoothed out his incredible slick back and stick-up ponytail, looking over at you in shorts, the huge t-shirt you stole from him, and slippers that are definitely overdue a replacement.
“I told you we should’ve hired movers.” You sneered and rolled your eyes, sweat lining your eyebrows as the hot sun poured onto the two of you. You hopped into the van's passenger seat, immediately pulling down the sunshade and basking in the coolness.
“You have every home decor item from every home decor store in every city in Japan and probably beyond in your house. I wasn’t anticipating that.” Aki reached down to put the car in reverse, backing out of the parking spot. “Plus, I did most of the heavy work.”
You rested your tilted head on your propped arm on the center console of the car, fighting back a giggle – not gonna give him the satisfaction of a joke that actually landed for once. “You’re so sassy.”
“You like it.”
“...Whatever.”
—
Before entering the complex, Aki gave you a stringent set of rules and a rather cohesive oral rundown of how your meeting with Denji and the others is going to go. The former was on a piece of paper, written in oddly legible chicken scratch. On the top, there was a directory of sorts of all 3 of his roommates, paired with rough doodles of their images. It read as follows:
NO screaming with Denji, Power, or Nayuta. Do NOT ask Nayuta about the dog’s personalities, names, ages, or any of the sort. Do NOT ask Power or Denji any questions. NO play-fighting, no sparring, no physical contact with ANY of the idiots roommates. Do NOT talk too much with them.
Yeah, sure. You’ll follow them, but sometimes… rules are suggestions. You’ve known Aki for over 3 years; anyone who keeps him company is your friend. Any friend of yours is treated with wholehearted love. So, it’ll be justified when you break the physical contact rule. A hug should be fine, right?
Walking up the stairs with Aki, he reminds you of the makeshift contract. “You don’t want to deal with Power especially. Trust me. It’s all in your best interest to adhere to it.”
You brushed him off with a wave of the hand. “Sure. I bet they’re the coolest ever and you’re just a huge grump.” He turned the knob for you, pushed the door open, and rolled his eyes, ushering you into the apartment where the three were gathered around the chabudai, playing cards.
“YES!” The red-horned one started screaming, slamming the cards down as the blonde started to grumble in discontent, mumbling something about cheating, fluidly mixed with an impressive string of profanities. It was obvious they had not recognized your presence, but the black-haired child did, neck craned, eyes burning a hole in your skull. Dogs surrounded her figure seated by the chabudai as she fed each one a bone-shaped treat. Surprisingly, they’re oddly well-behaved for such a numerous bunch. Wow. The prophecies are true.
You stood there awkwardly, looking up at Aki for help; however, he let go of your hand and shrugged, making his way to the kitchen to wash dishes that had a substance burned and caked onto them beyond repair.
“Hello,” your voice, although naturally loud, barely overpowered the even louder atmosphere, courtesy of the red-horned and the blonde – which, by the drawings on the paper, you presume are Power and Denji – prompting the black-haired child – Nayuta? – to roll her eyes and hit her hand on the low table to get their attention, gesturing to you. “They're here.”
The blonde – sorry – Denji’s jaw drops. Aki tugs an apron on, puts something in the oven, and completely ignores the event as if it happens daily. Does it happen every day? Power immediately jumps up from the table and hops over to you. “You’re Aki’s partner?” She says, mildly judgmental.
You nod, beaming. Forget the rules, she’s adorable! “You’re literally so cute! Are your horns real?” You reach to touch them, and she slightly maneuvers her head to make it easier for you.
“Yeah. But don’t get any ideas,” she says, seemingly sizing you up. “Just ‘cause you’re moving in doesn’t mean you get to call the shots. I still do.” Power says, pushing her proud chest out.
You laugh, feeling tears prickle your waterline… from fear, or is she just funny? Okay, this one is the queen in that “queen and her lowly subordinates” game. You hear Aki reprimand her from the kitchen, and she answers with an annoyed “What?”
Denji sighed, pushing Power aside with one arm, prompting a grunt and a sudden dive of her head, mouth open and clearly aimed to snatch off the skin of Denji’s forearm. However, the fiasco is immediately stopped by a stern “Hey!” from Aki.
“Sorry about her,” Denji sighs. “She doesn’t know how to act.” He rolls his eyes and then sticks out a hand for you to shake. What a gentleman! Aki must’ve been exaggerating in those horror stories about him. You take his hand, nodding and saying hello.
It’s sticky.
His hand is… tacky. You blink once, twice, and one more time before tightening all of your facial features and retracting your hand with extraordinary quickness, clenching your hand in your t-shirt. “Your hand,” you breathe out. “It’s, um,”
“Oh. Sticky? No big deal.” Denji laughs from his stomach. “But uhh, I don’t know where from. Probably like, from cleaning up after Nayuta’s dogs.”
You look over at Aki once again. He’s got oven mitts on and sharp flour on the part of his apron that meets the counter.
He shrugs.
—
You flop down on the bed, exhausted with a raw hand – from scrubbing off every trace of … whatever … that could’ve been left on your hand.
“Are you okay?” Aki walks in, wet-haired and with a towel wrapped around his waist. He eyes your figure splayed out across the bed, with a telling look that screams “I told you so”. He gets dressed, climbs into the bed, and lets you rest your head on his chest. “Well,” he starts, but you shoot him an annoyed look, so he pushes his lower lip up in a cartoonish frown and stays silent.
“I like them,” you finally say, after 10 minutes of deafening silence, punctuated by a snore coming from a neighboring room. It seems the others are asleep. “They’re cool. Fun.” Okay – optimistic much? Your cup is half full, not half empty.
Aki laughs at you, kissing you on the head and pulling the covers up. “Okay,” is all he says, but you could tell he still wanted to declare himself right. “You’re staying?” He asks, an eyebrow up under his wet bangs.
Today, you indirectly touched dried dog urine – question mark? –, got threatened by a loud red-horned girl, and walked into what is practically a dog shelter.
You nod, sighing. “Yes, I’m staying.” You look up at him, a smile on his face, one he was very obviously trying to fight earlier. “Quit smiling. It takes a lot to deter me, so I’ll stay. I like them.”
“I’ll stop smiling if you kiss me.”
“Go to sleep.”
