wait holy shit you just found my nsfw blog STOPWJJAKAJWJWJA
WAIT OMG I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS YOURS i only found out when i saw ur message and looked thru my likes 😭😭 fck but that was one of my fav piece it resonates so hard with me
I'LL ENJOY FROM AFAR NOWS NO WORRIES JEJCJDJFJ SO SORRY !!!
initially, you refuse to admit it, though your fascination slips past the aisle of your thoughts and starts to form in the rhythmic way you tread your fingers through his golden hair, eventually conceding as you comment. “your hair is so soft.”
tsukishima kei hums, eyes shut as he lay on your chest, feeling his scalp being massaged gently as you untangle the tensions.
“you sleepy?”
“yeah. sorry.”
“don’t be, get some rest.” you say, eliciting a yawn from him.
“is it normal to feel sleepy around your partner?”
“i guess so, heard they can regulate your nervous system or something.”
“you stress me out sometimes.”
you raise a brow, pausing your ministrations, eager to tease and be teased. “okay, and?"
“you love to ragebait me.”
“so do you?”
you see the wrinkling of his brow first before the purse of his lips, almost as if he's pouting. "it's not my fault, you're too easy anyway. and who said you could stop?"
you hum this time, fingers stayed put. "stop what?"
with his eyes closed and a scoff, his expression twists even more into something close to hesitation, "i see you, wipe that grin off your face."
"dunno what you're talking about, darling."
you like to think he's refusing to admit to the fact that he likes being teased by you—no, you're certain. you know him just as much.
long and sluggish arms snuggle your figure, he kicks off the blanket from his waist to reveal the expanse of his broad chest and exposing his calf down, only wearing boxers while the rain pours with intermittent strength. he mumbles against your chest, lips kissing the midline of your torso where the sternum protrudes, you feel his body sharing warmth, engulfing you whole.
then, he mutters, "please."
"please, what?"
he lifts his head to look at you, glasses left aside on your nightstand. his eyes are mellowed out so much you can't take his annoying expression seriously, holding your stare for a short minute, before succumbing to his fate, a subject to your whims. "please massage my hair like that."
"wasn't so hard now, was it?"
he can only dignify with a low groan. sighing when you finally continue to stroke his hair. "thank you."
"don't mention it."
you know you could stay like this forever, even when your blanket is strewn on the floor, or his weight on top of you, or how he becomes softer against the steady pulse of the rain. you wouldn't trade it for the world.
and in the way he sinks heavier against you, you know he wouldn't either.
Originally, i opened my comms so i could save up for a new ipad and help my parents. But then things have quite changed and theres was a misunderstanding.
Long story short, my other grandma was the one supporting my school fees since elementary, so when i told her about my enrollment for g12--she then said she couldnt support me anymore bc shes trying to focus on herself. So i was confused bc i thought this would happen when I'm in college, but apparently, it's when im in g12.
Clearly, my other grandma talked about it before to my mom and step-dad but they didnt informed me, so there was a huge misunderstanding.
So when i called my parents about it, my mom says shes sorry that "they can't support me well" for my senior high enrollment.
and with that my guardian parents are trying to find ways and talk to my step-dad (the one provides money for the two of them bc my mom is a house wife and can't work.) about it to atleast pay the downpayment so i could enroll.
Its so disappointing hearing that kind of thing from them. I'm disappointed that they didnt explained to me sooner about it and my step-dad isnt taking shit seriously. I don't even ask them for things nor do they ask me what i need for school atleast once. I'm raised and live with one of my uncles and grandmother for years until now. When my mom found my stepdad and got married they moved to a farther place where his workplace is closer. And so they're the ones who has been taking care of me since. All the things i have are from my grandmother--she's the only one who gives me all my stuff and what I need for school, even the money so I can go out and buy snacks. Only my guardian parents and my uncles are helping me out on things.
I'm sorry if i explained badly. I dont have an exact goal of money that i need, But if your willing to commission me to help or whatever-- here's some examples of my art if interested.
fluff, f. reader, tw. none | being a third year manager with increasing academic and club responsibilities had revealed a side of you unseen by anyone, including your boyfriend, before
tsukishima can confidently say that he knows you like the back of his hand —your thought process, your mannerisms, your likes and dislikes. he wouldn't label himself as romantic by any mean, but being in a relationship with you for three years now, it's simply unavoidable considering how perceptive he is.
however, people can evolve with the right conditional and stimulus. you're no different. who's to say that you'd stay sweet and gentle as you were then?
your senior year in high school had proved to be especially challenging that the continuous pressure from your parents' and teachers' expectations, in addition to your manager duty to the karasuno volleyball club, was revealing cracks in your otherwise pristine demeanor.
the morning of the first day of spring high preliminary, you walked to the gym entrance with circles under your eyes concealed under some concealer and powder. your fatigue was apparent. the crowd and noises were overstimulating and you're irritated. in short, it was a bad start to a big day.
just when you thought the morning couldn't get any worse, a boy approached your younger manager in attempt to flirt. despite her best attempt to escape, his insistence overpowered her.
"come on! you wouldn't be disappointed by my cross shots, i promise. so just cheer my name and.. ".
he started to get handsy, and that was the final straw for you.
without warning, you slotted yourself between the two of them, "i belief you should get your ears checked because she clearly said no, or perhaps you have a volleyball for a brain that you find it hard to understand a simple no as an answer? that's concerning. i suggest you step up your academic performance so hopefully if you don't make it as a professional athlete, someone would bother enough to employ you. now, if you'll excuse us", you smiled sweetly when you bowed, as if you didn't just insult the hell out of the guy.
in the background, your team was a mixture of amazement and horror. their sweet manager, who they couldn't believe dated tsukishima because of your contrasting personality, just spoke exactly like him!
the guy, as expected, was humiliated and rushed to you with a raised fist for a seemingly violent confrontation. tsukishima caught his fist in his much larger palm easily.
"oh, i see your fragile ego had taken quite a damage. my condolence. i hope your spike doesn't decrease in power though because i'm looking forward to block your crosses. although, to be honest, considering your missing 20cm, i foresee blocking you wouldn't be much of a challenge".
yamaguchi immediately got on the case before things escalate beyond saving like a good captain he was, "alright! why don't we get moving? excuse us!".
inside, you sighed as you dragged your feet, mentally scolding yourself for losing your cool this early in the morning. walking beside you, tsukishima loosely held your hand in his, "you good?".
"i'm okay.. thanks for the save. sorry you had to witness that though", you gave his hand a light squeeze.
"don't be sorry. you're cool back there".
you glanced at him and saw a smug smirk on his face, as if he's still indirectly tormenting the guy from before. you smiled, genuinely this time. maybe the morning wasn't as bad as you thought.
and sure enough, tsukishima blocked his cross shot easily in their first set and winked discreetly at you, followed by the crowd bursting in cheers. the noises no longer bothering you.
cw: tried to use gn pronouns but implied afab reader, english narrations & dialogue (despite the tagalog title lol), also unbetaed hehe so i prob missed some typos, museum employee!tsukki, sendai frogs!tsukki, tsukki meets reader's parents (reader has two dads), mentioned implied sideships (i'd like to see yall guess them though its vv obv), few suggestive comments and actions normal to couples, established relationship, legal age gap, older!tsukki, tsukki is older by a few years, reader is a post-grad student, tsukki has been working in sendai city museum post-grad for 3-4 years already, reader in her early to mid 20s and tsukki in his late 20s, canon convergent, unbetaed so typos
lmfao once again i have vanished into the abyss after that tendou commuting hcs last christmas …. ya girl is still in job hunting mode and still adjusting to adulting mygawd i've been running errands ever since i graduated it felt like years instead of months. so sorry for those left waiting for older museum bf tsukki to return.
title means "i'm ready to reach for this until i lose my mind" from the song na-akit by henyong makata.
anw that local tumblr ban can't and won't stop my ass from posting abt my grumpy bf (> •́)ᕗ⊹ ࣪ ˖
(meet cute) (visiting him in the workshop) (jealousy, jealousy)
one might be wondering why kei even moved out of his family home when he comes home during the weekends anyway. it's not like his job is in another prefecture or region.
his family home is near karasuno high school, about an hour drive or two to sendai museum. it's not really that much of a hassle since akiteru did buy him that toyota prius when he graduated from karasuno, he used to drive to his college after all. if moving to a literal block away from sendai museum gives him at least an hour more of sleep then yes he really did have to move out. it's not like his mom or akiteru was against it. if anything, they are delighted in kei's decision as they get to dote on the youngest tsukishima more because of this.
ever since he started living on his own during weekdays after college, kei hasn't had problems with his necessities. unsurprisingly, his mom sends him off after visiting during weekends with two or three side dishes that he can stretch out for the week. akiteru also drops by sometimes to give him takeouts or groceries, despite multiple protests that he's already a grown adult and isn't akiteru also busy with his family?
but well, as much as his older brother and his mom supplies him with free food, kei still has things he needed to buy.
for example, a gift for meeting his lover's parents for the first time apparently.
"i apologize, bun. i must've misheard you, a bit noisy here in the produce section. what was it again?" kei balances his phone between his ear and one of his shoulders, his hands busy weighing two different napa cabbages. he's planning on okonomiyaki for tonight's dinner and possibly tomorrow's breakfast if there are leftovers.
is it a way to drop by your afternoon classes tomorrow because he accidentally (purposely, really) cooked "too much" of one of your comfort foods? no, it's not.
(yes, it absolutely is. gun to his face and everything, he'll easily deny it with a scowl even if he did took his time learning exactly how runny you like your okonomiyaki)
"hehe keicchi, getting deaf already? i said my parents want to have dinner with my grumpy boyfriend~ is tomorrow okay?"
kei has to blink a few times, his neurons trying to make synapses. he probably should’ve moved over instead of holding up the line. he’s sure he heard you right, he’s not that old. he guesses it’s only proper, he never got around to greeting your parents when he was still courting you. granted, you weren’t even aware you were being wooed at first.
"well, bun, i could really use a warning next time.” grimacing, he bows in apology to other customers as he steps out of the line in the produce section. he gestures for the older man next to him to take his place instead, one hand finally holding his phone properly.
"you're lucky i'm already in the grocery. anything you can suggest your folks would like? i'll be getting your brother his dino nuggets." kei is already going through his mental catalogue of the grocery for the wine & pastry section and frozen goods. he’s not sure what your parents like but well, he can’t go wrong with some shochu and castella cake right? he doesn’t know if he should get barley shochu or sweet potato shochu, do your parents even like sweets?
"aww keicchi, that's sweet of you but you don't have to. my parents won't mind, honest." kei has to stop a smile from surfacing with the way your staticky voice sweetly croons to the phone receiver. he can almost see that shy playful grin you have, he has the sudden urge to laugh at himself because wow who would’ve thought he’d be here in his late 20s? moonstruck and smitten, hanging on to everything you have to say. in public, no less.
high school kei would either shrivel up like a husk or make someone else shrivel up like a husk.
before you, kei wouldn’t be caught even smiling softly while talking to someone over the phone. kei would be most often caught scowling because of whatever stupid shit shoyo is blowing up the first years’ gc or blankly scrolling past the updates in the sendai frogs gc. before you, kei wouldn’t be caught cooing at and teasing someone. before you, kei wouldn't even be thinking of buying anything for anyone just because he thinks it’ll make them giggle. is it ever casual when he stocks up his apartment with toiletries and snacks he usually sees you using? is it ever casual when even his car is packed with extras of your lip balm and hair clips? only a fool will ever think it’s casual when even kei’s coworkers stumble upon his workroom locker having boxes of pads and photostrips pinned on the inside.
"that's good to hear, bun. that actually makes things easier, you know?" kei huffs out a laugh faintly, “now i can bring something because i actually want to. what do you take your lover for, hm?”
frankly it’s getting a bit concerning how he’s so, so infatuated with you, you don’t even know half of it. kei half-expects his feelings to be dried up at his age, all his emotional capacity of letting people in pushed to the limits with karasuno and the third gym squad. kogane and kyotani barely manage to scratch past the surface. you, however, in all your adorably simple glory manage to not only rehydrate said feelings but you also somehow made sure that these feelings of his are painfully obvious to those close to him. everyone who has spent enough time with kei is well aware of the middleblocker’s comical aversion to feelings or his general distaste when it comes to dealing with it. it’s largely contrasting with how he’s surprisingly expressive with it despite giving off an initial aura of nonchalance.
all it takes is seeing your worried frown that first time for his interest to be sparked when you timidly approached a stranger like him. all it takes is consistent little instances with each visit you make in the museum for him to subconsciously make space and time for you. all it takes is your unexplainable charm and patience for his walls to slowly be chipped away at first, not knowing when it completely comes undone all at once.
"oh my, listen to that .... my old man is doing things because he wants to. how romantic. keep talking like that and i might start thinking you have a big fat crush on me." kei actually chuckles a bit this time upon hearing your mischievous ribbing at him. he tilts his head, he hopes whatever expression he’s making with all his willpower is enough to mask his fond amusement for you. getting caught mooning in 4k in a grocery store isn’t really on brand for him yet.
"oh? should a guy apologize for wanting to appreciate his girl, hm? is it a crime to do things that matter to my girl?” it’s a truth universally acknowledged among those allowed within kei’s circle that he has next to zero resistance when it comes to you so yes, he failed trying to stop himself from looking absolutely lovesick. he doesn’t even deny nor correct you about being romantic or having a big fat crush on you. it’s a good thing you can’t see him right now.
scoffing, kei huffs out a laugh as he lets you prattle on about tomorrow. he hums his agreement when you tell him that it’s really just a family dinner and it isn’t fancy so he shouldn’t worry. that perpetual scowl on his face melts into softness as he quietly offers to pick you up tomorrow from your dorm. the floaty feeling and the upturned quirk of his lips doesn’t disappear even after you hung up the call with exaggerated kisses on the phone receiver.
kei is pulled back to reality by a nikuman, like those they used to eat at coach ukai’s after practice in karasuno. no, wait. a talking steamed pork bun is blinking up at him. no, no.
“you should take both of these, they would make great cabbage rolls or okonomiyaki,” a portly man in his forties is serenely smiling up at him, crescent eyes littered with the beginning of crow’s feet seemingly smiling up at him too. kei has to remind himself that staring is rude but the older man behind him in the line at the produce section really does look like a very fluffy nikuman now that kei has the chance to look at him properly. the older man is about a head shorter than kei but he has no doubt the middle-aged man can knock kei out in a collision with his broader stature despite kei being a semi-pro athlete.
one hand is at the handle of the floral, green, foldable shopping trolley with wheels that stands next to the middle-aged man and in his other hand hangs inside a plastic bag the two cabbages kei was holding earlier before his brain whirred to a pause from your talk, the older man is offering them in kei’s direction to which he hastily bows and takes them in his own basket.
“yes, sir, thank you for holding on to these for me. i’ve been meaning to buy them.”
“was that the missus looking for you back home already?” despite the deeper tone register of the older man, kei can’t help but feel like a young kitten being soothed by a mother cat. paired with the almost parental actions of the other as the portly man himself roots around the produce section for other vegetables that would pair well with the napa cabbage he already held onto for kei. kei is about to decline when the other man gives it to the counter to be weighed but is compelled to just take it for some reason, having been used to his own mother and elder brother giving him stuff despite his refusal.
“ah no, no. not yet. that was my girlfriend actually. she told me her folks wanted to finally meet me.” kei accepts the offered green onions and kale, unconsciously trailing behind the portly man as the other beelines for the aisle of condiments. he ignores the influx of heat on his face at the mischievous look the older man gives him upon the slip up of “not yet” when asked about you. it’s not like he’s lying anyways since he intends to invest in you.
kei jolts upon being tapped enthusiastically on the shoulder. jesus, six foot four and yet he almost gets bulldozed over face first in a rack of mirin and soy sauce because of an enthusiastic middle-aged man who doesn’t seem to be aware of his own strength.
there is a twitch in his brows as the welling urge to return to his default setting and snap at rude strangers bubbles up within kei. he’s about to let loose the most diabolical and offensive shit you could ever say to an older person but is abruptly caught off guard by such genuine joy on the nikuman—err, middle-aged man practically radiating off his pudgy face. suddenly, he’s reminded of shoyo (he needs to yell at him over the phone, he can sense him being brighter than the sun again in brazil).
“aha, the famous meet the parents! congrats, sonny, your girl seems very serious about you if she’s bringing you to the family nest. your nerves sent you out buying stuff for the oldies then?”
kei rubs at his shoulder where he was tapped, suddenly overwhelmed with unfamiliar shyness at the mention of the implication of how serious things are between you two.
“err, rather i was caught unaware since that’s what the call was about. i’m not certain if her parents share the same preferences with her, i can’t exactly give her parents …. cheesy jalapeno cheetos and frozen four-cheese pizza.”
the middle-aged man and kei stare at each other for a long, silent minute before the portly man erupts in a hearty, full-bellied laugh.
“if this old man can give you a wee bit of advice, we oldies like to keep it sentimental, y'know? instead of flashing them folks with fancy, maybe something more heartfelt like homemade.” kei isn’t sure why but hearing the older man’s suggestion reminds him of the flour and heavy cream he recently bought with you last week, “would seem more genuine, no? after all, the fastest way my spouse and kids make me fold is through being sappy and sweet heh.”
kei doesn’t really make it a habit to stay up at the ass crack of dawn just to figure out baking when one of the first years (read: shoyo) used to mention wanting some cream puffs but he does it this time for you. he does it because it’s you. you fuss over the few bandages on his lithe fingers once you see them as they drum rhythmically on the steering wheel. kei finds it endearing despite numerous denials, choosing to tease you for worrying over his prized middleblocker hands. you’re used to seeing his fingers taped during games but not outside of it so he should forgive you if you’re a bit distressed!
“nooo, look at your pretty hands! keicchi, you big softie baby, you didn’t really have to!” kei keeps his eyes on the road but he just wants to give you kisses because you’re cute when you’re worried and fussing over him. you’re playing with his free hand that is covered with some band-aids, blowing on it and caressing it carefully like it’ll do something. you’re so annoying, sending kei’s stupid heart galloping.
“is that why you’re trying to kiss it better? because i’m apparently this so-called big softie baby, hm? you’re so cute with your shenanigans, bun.”
“tsukishima-san!”
“yes, l/n-san?”
snickering, he lets you hit his free arm a few times before catching your fist mid-air and giving your knuckles a kiss before letting it rest on his thigh as he turns a left to your family home. he’d gladly get those cuts and burns again if only to get the same result of seeing you scowling and pouty, scolding him to shut up and keep his eyes on the road. for a man who hates needless effort, these are his hard-earned scrapes.
so, no matter how many times you plead to peek inside and have a teensy bite on the packaged sweets on your lap as he drives you two down your street, he won’t let his efforts go straight to your greedy and eager hands without letting your parents see how much he’s willing to be changed by you.
while it is made with the idea of you enjoying it, kei hopes your parents do too.
(whoever’s the trick ass bitch that spread the misinformation that kei is nonchalant better watch their back, kei is trying his hardest to not appear restless and fidgety right now if only to not make you feel bad for the short notice dinner. because what if your parents can smell even the tiniest drop of fear, what then?)
“i got the house right, didn’t i?” kei peers outside, leaning forward as he squints at the surname plaque by the gate. you send him a thumbs up when he points out your surname by the gate of the beige two-story house.
“nervous?” you pulled down the visor and popped open one of the compartments on his dashboard to root around for one of your lip balm. kei patiently waits for you to finish applying before replying.
“would it be a lie if i said that i’m not?”
“ara ara, is keicchi a pussy?”
“what do the kids say these days? i am what i eat?”
kei smirks down at you as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens his car door, watches you through the windshield as you sputter in embarrassment in the shotgun seat, and rounds up to your side of the car and opens the door for you.
“i always forgot how much of a little shit you are, it’s a good thing yamaguchi-san told me not to get fooled by how mature you already appear to be.”
“don’t believe whatever tadashi says, clearly he’s the one who needs glasses and not me.”
kei holds his hand out to shield your head as you duck out of his car, grabbing the packaged homemade creampuffs from your hands.
“that was so crass, keicchi.”
“aw are you shy, bun?”
huffing and not gracing him with a reaction, you reach out to buzz the doorbell by your house’s gate. the flames burning up your face are enough of an answer as he ducks down to kiss the apple of your cheek in apology.
you’re about to tell him off but hear the tell-tale footsteps thundering from inside and immediately shift into older sibling mode on instinct to tell minoru off for running in the hallway again.
the door is yanked open and you’re already going on a tirade on how minoru shouldn’t be running in the hallways nor is he even supposed to open the gate by himself without even checking on who’s at the door.
“dinosaur man!” you exasperatedly cross your arms as an overexcited blur whizzes past you to immediately latch on your lover’s trouser leg. obviously, everything went inside one ear and out the other.
“hello to you too, minoru. here, i got you something.” you can’t really be mad when there are literal sparkles in minoru’s eyes whenever “dinosaur man” comes over and gives him gifts. you know kei doesn’t have to but he spends time with minoru and humors the six year old who has endless energy and questions, just like how he did when you guys first met all those months ago.
you figure he probably had training in dealing with some of his teammates he used to play with in high school.
“nuggies!” you call out yet again for minoru to not run inside the house as the little gremlin bolts back inside, the package of frozen goods held high like that one lion in one of his kid movies.
one moment you’re toeing off your shoes by the genkan, the next your staring down at your boyfriend and your younger brother who are sprawled out on your living room couch. minoru’s dinosaur magazines are flipped open, most of his figurines are scattered on the floor and the coffee table while he waves what looks like a brachiosaurus in kei’s direction.
and kei says he’s worried to meet your family. he looks very much at ease in your house already despite it being his first time visiting, he’s already scooching back to the couch to make way for the climbing and jumping wriggly thing on his lap.
“sero– saro– soro– long necks!” minoru’s little finger taps insistently on a page, his other hand smooshing the hard plastic figurine against kei’s brown polo.
“that would be the sauropods, yes.” you wait for kei to get annoyed, to bat the insistent digging of the plastic toy on his torso away.
“mhm! it’s what i said!”
“sure you did, brat. well done.”
your heart squeezes at the sight of kei securing an arm around your younger brother as the little boy continues to squirm to face his improvised chair of the moment.
“why do the lamborgasaur have a huge plate on its head?”
“the lambeosaurus?” at the sight of the blank confusion on minoru’s face, kei can’t help but breathe out a laugh.
“well, you know how your sensei in school teaches you how to make sounds with letters?” minoru’s nose twitches when kei boops the tip with a finger, “and some of them come from your nose? that ‘plate’ on its head is how they make those roars to communicate.”
“their … voice is on their forehead?” minoru blows a confused raspberry that only made kei chuckle even more. he tries his best not to laugh too much at the now seven year old though.
“hmm, not quite but that’s an interesting consideration. it’s like an additional echo room like the space inside our noses, a speaker to make their voice louder.”
“... it makes them look like a chicken though.”
“oh buddy, do i have news for you.”
you elbow kei to stop teasing minoru, his scrunched up little face is adorable but kei likes confusing minoru because of that exact reason.
“ah well. just trying to assure myself that at least one family member of yours ends up liking me after all.”
“oh come on, keicchi. they’ll like you, their eldest likes you very much after all.” rolling your eyes, you cross your arms in amusement as kei puts a busily babbling minoru down on the couch and off his lap. he dusts his pants off before heading towards you, arms finding their place around your waist on reflex.
“yeah? despite me being an old man, hm?” kei whispers as he sways you slightly. you hit him halfheartedly on the chest.
“you’re a couple of years older, you’re not fossilized. when did you get this dramatic? dad is literally five years older, ain’t that right dad?”
you stifle a giggle as the man in your embrace quite literally stiffened up from where he’s standing as you cheekily address your dad who is emerging from the kitchen, arms and hands laden with potholder, cooking mittens, and a bowl of crunchy gyoza.
you watch kei steel himself, you would think that he’s gearing up for a fistfight with the way he rigidly turns around and bows a perfect ninety degrees.
kei is about to greet whichever parent of yours formally but is promptly silenced with a familiar hearty thump on his back.
“is that you, sonny? well i’ll be damned, sure am glad to see you again.”
despite wincing as he stands up to his full height again, relief floods his chest as a familiar portly man grins up at him. bright as the sun and gentle as the breeze, he leans down a bit and lets the older man draw him into a loose hug.
“as am i, sir. your daughter is wonderful.”
“oh, i’m sure she is. you wouldn’t say what you said to me back in the grocery if she wasn’t.”
you raise an eyebrow at kei questioningly, his face flushes all the way down to his neck as his usual rare show of embarrassment. you’ll have to remember to ask kei about this famed grocery meeting later.
your dad patting kei’s arm as kei tries to downplay whatever the previous convo is just serves to make you more eager and more curious to know what exactly your boyfriend unwittingly told your dad.
a loud, gruff voice echoed from within the warm confines of your busy kitchen, followed by the tell tale clangs of pots and pans.
“potato salad’s almost done, hon! is sunshine’s shitacular little boyfriend there already?”
ah. you knew you forgot to do something.
mentally hitting yourself, you watch as if stuck in slow motion as confusion and surprise color kei’s golden irises and bleeding slowly into his face.
“is that—?”
“uh, this one’s dad. you’re probably the “sweet young man” he met in the grocery,” you nervously flit your eyes up at kei, hands fidgeting, “papa’s the one who cooked our dinner for tonight.” your voice dwindles to a fainter volume as you reach the last word of your sentence. you try to not blink like mad, unlike the rapidly building up swirl of anxiety in your gut.
silence. god awful silence.
since getting together with your older boyfriend, blessed silence is something you grew to love since slow days are mostly what you get whenever you spend a night or two over at kei’s apartment. the silence usually comes with the soft buzzing of the radio in kei’s apartment that plays curated mixtapes, both his favorites and ones he made for you. the silence is usually punctuated by murmured conversations and muted movies as you and kei take turns doting on each other.
but not this silence. this thick, choking quiet where you’re not sure of what’s on kei’s mind.
“is … is there a problem, kei?”
god, no.
kei’s brain is currently trying to compute at mach 20 to not stretch the silence into something that is uncomfortably insensitive. he’s aware he’s failing but his brain-to-mouth function is apparently lagging now of all times. he’s running through his head everything he did so far in the past hour he’s been inside your home, whether his big ass mouth said something mean or offensive again. he doesn’t want to fuck this up.
but you don’t know that. and that’s exactly why the cruelly laughable tendrils of dread slowly curl low in your gut as you watch kei move blankly and seemingly on auto pilot after the denying shake of his head and a what is supposedly a reassuring pat on your head.
“is that it, punk? no shock or disgust or nothing?” your dad, thankfully the more understanding and sensitive one, elbows your scowling papa who is rudely staring kei down due to his lackluster reaction.
your papa, in all his limby six foot self clad with a frilly apron gifted by your dad, emerges from the kitchen and is failing to look like the intimidating ex-delinquent he used to be since he’s carrying a steaming casserole of potato salad as he subconsciously flocks to your dad.
“err, not at all, sir? that would be rude and unwarranted,” you want to sob because despite what you perceive to be kei’s rejection, you think he’s still trying to be respectful.
(kei looks confused as fuck and you’re also confused as fuck as to why he’s in confusion, this is it oh no you’re gonna lose your boyfriend the same day he met both of your fathers oh no)
the silence is eating away at both of you as the four of you set the table. minoru’s babbles as he plays with his figurines in the living room further amplifies the unspoken tension in the dining room. you know having two fathers isn’t exactly the standard family set-up, same-sex couples are just recently being accepted in japan. and suddenly your lover, who has no prior exposure to such set-ups (not that you know of), is dunked head-first into a situation he may or may not be uncomfortable in because you haven’t eased him first.
oh fuck, oh shit, you should’ve briefed kei first about your family situation. that you have two fathers. oh god.
you continue to quietly spiral further and further, each thought worse than the previous one, even as you call out that dinner is ready and finish setting the table. like an honest to goodness textbook eldest daughter.
minoru bounds happily inside the dining room, blissfully unaware that your dad is subtly telling your papa to pipe down who is busy glaring daggers to your boyfriend who is also carrying a pitcher of plum juice to the dining table. your dad probably made him get it so your papa wouldn’t sock him in the jaw for breathing wrong near you.
your heart squeezes as you watch minoru struggle to climb his chair while clinging to kei whose arms are hovering in the air, ready to catch despite not actively helping him up. fuck, how are you gonna tell your brother that he’s gonna lose his favorite dinosaur man soon?
as most things with kei, he says whatever is on his mind. and it’s daunting at first, but with time, his straightforwardness manages to assure you. like right now.
“i’ve just been thinking,” kei pulls out your chair for you, “no wonder you’re this lovely. so much love raised you,” kei picks up your plate and loads it up with potato salad. he doesn’t forget to put extra mustard and red onions on yours because he knows you like it despite minoru whining that it’s disgusting.
if there’s one thing kei hates more than anything in the world, it’s liars. and he means it when there really is no problem with you having two dads. how would there be any problem when these two people, regardless of gender or identity, gave their best to create someone that is so, so perfectly fitting for kei? someone who, in all of kei’s rudeness and bastardness, manages to soften his edges. how on earth would there be a problem for a spring angel like you? he’s readily braving not just one, but two fathers who must have been extremely protective of you.
while you’re currently unaware just how much kei’s softness can go so far when it comes to you, you do know kei is honest. always honest. in his disdain, in his bluntness, in his moodiness. this also, surprisingly, extends to his way of showing affection and assurance.
you startle in your seat when a large and warm palm enveloped your smaller one, hesitant eyes flicking up to warm pools of amber. cotton seems to fill up your throat as kei brings up your hand to his lips, seemingly deaf to your papa’s rude ass motormouth barking at him to unhand you.
he turns your hand in his, palm up, and softly plants a kiss in the middle of the grooves and faint indents within. there’s a glint in his eyes as the valley of his lips traverses down your palm to the faint thrumming pulsing on your wrist, chuckling quietly while wiping the few tears that escaped your eyes without your knowledge.
“should i be offended, hm? you’re making your dad and papa think i make you cry all the time.”
he puts your hand back to your lap, leaning down to your height to give your forehead a sweet smooch, snickering as minoru faux retches beside him.
the tight tendrils constricting your chest in unreasonable panic loosens as you suddenly wind your arms around his upper back, arms coming up underneath to grasp at the cloth of his beige polo.
“thanks, keicchi.” your arms tighten around him as you whisper against his shoulder.
“for being a decent human being and the best boyfriend ever?” you give him several nods to which he brings a hand up to pat your head almost playfully.
your papa clears his throat rather loudly and claps sharply, “alright, break it up romeo junior. getting a bit too touchy there for everyone’s liking.”
aside from that unexpected display during dinner to which your dad made fun of you two while keeping your papa glued to his seat with all of his power, the meal proceeded as peacefully as it could get (barely).
your papa can’t resist grilling your boyfriend about his background and intentions towards you, making sure to scowl and aggressively chew as he listens to your lover whose calm demeanor stays.
your papa asks about the age gap, kei answers that it doesn’t matter since he treats you equally and sometimes you’re the one who is even telling him off.
your papa asks the difference in priorities since kei is at the age of settling down and you’re still at the starting line of your career, the little shit could’ve given a textbook answer but no. he decides to bite your papa’s bait and piss him off a little.
“i wasn’t really in a habit of dating before your daughter despite having options,” you smack your forehead faintly as your papa threatens to stand up, not clearly used to the way kei speaks like a goddamn instigator himself, “i chose your daughter and i’ll keep on choosing her.”
kei holds your hand under the table, his grip firm and sure, “i’m aware of the differences in our pacing and the possibility of me influencing her since i’m older. but your daughter is delightfully capable, a bit of a mess still but still capable. it’s rather charming, really.”
your dad asks if kei will wait for you to get your footing despite kei already finding his, you swoon all over again when kei nods, “i think my height comes in handy for this, sir. she can use my support all she wants, i’ll be her ladder and railing heh. rather than influencing her, i’d like it if she lets herself be taken care of more whenever she gets too in her head. my ambitious overachiever.”
you get the absolute delight of witnessing the most emotion on kei’s handsome face as he waits for the verdict on his homemade strawberry creampuffs from your parents and minoru.
you giggled as the tension almost visibly bleeds out the broad lines of kei’s shoulder when your dad happily goes for seconds, your papa grumbles as he eats another serving offered by your dad to him.
you watch as kei tuts lightheartedly at minoru for eating messily, cleaning the boy’s sticky fingers himself as he told minoru how big boys eat. minoru reasons out that dinosaurs get to eat messily so why can’t he. kei, the clever bird he is, points out that minoru is way cooler and stronger than those messy dinosaurs since he’s a big boy and they’re not.
half an hour after dinner finds you and kei lounging on the sofa in your living room, watching over minoru playing with his figures on the carpet while all three of you are rewatching land before time for the nth time. you two have been shooed by both your dad and papa after dinner with a side of threats for kei to keep his hands where your papa can see them. seemingly exhausted with the night’s ordeal, you are glued tight against kei’s side. one of his arm is wrapped around your shoulder as he rubs your upper arm gently, lips pressed against the side of your head as he quietly tells you that he did kind of have two dads in his high school volleyball team too in karasuno. and seniors-turned-found family from other high school volleyball teams who are also involved with each other. a whole lot of duo father figures in his life actually.
(the cop and that one jva promoter, that elementary school teacher and who the hell is the great king even, that one pro volleyball player in osaka and the manga editor, their high school coach and their high school club adviser. you’re not sure if hinata-san and kageyama-san count since they’re the same age as your boyfriend but they’re apparently involved romantically too)
his other hand rests on his lap, fiddling with the fuzzes on the sleeves of your woolen sweater while your hands are tracing all across his abdomen and waist in slow and gentle strokes over his polo shirt. it’s actually making him sleepy, what with you snuggling stubbornly on the crook of his neck too.
well, your papa didn’t make any mention of you keeping your hands where he can see them.
as if a switch is flicked inside of you from sheer relief, all your nervousness and some of your inhibitions has been replaced with something clingier.
“now where did all that shyness go, hm? you were even sniffling earlier, bun.”
“well excuse me if i was scared out of my wits! i thought you were gonna break up with me for …. for having a weird family.”
“why on earth did you even think i was that shallow?”
“but most people have dealbreakers as serious as thaㅡ,” your worries are once again effectively cut off with chapped lips capturing yours for a split second before your head is pushed against kei’s shoulder, fingers carding at the ends of your locks.
“and am i most people? you dare lump me with those plebeians?” you snickered, kei is laying on real thick with the affection when he’s usually more reserved in his teasing than this. kei can be unknowingly cute sometimes.
you’re about to retort back to kei when the death knoll rings in the form of your papa calling for your poor boyfriend. kei freezes up minutely before standing up to face his fate (read: shovel talk from a very protective father) despite your very vocal whinings for your papa to stop being so difficult.
putting on a brave face (thank fuck for his resting bitch face), he enters the lion’s den and is greeted with the sharp grin of a six footer girl dad.
all those times he had to face the wrath of a pissed off sugawara koushi is all so he could avoid collapsing from the sheer fear of getting our papa’s approval.
it may not be a big deal for him but it is for you so of fucking course he’s gonna get it for you.
“you know we were just testing you earlier, yes? no harm meant, sonny.” despite being near in height, kei forces himself to not shrink under the scrutinising side-eye of the older man washing the plates in the sink.
“i understand the sentiment, l/n-san. i feel protective over her as well at times,” kei coughs as he takes the dish cloth for drying to wipe the dripping plate given in his direction by your papa. the only ones who manage to scare the holy spirit out of him back then are his team captains back in karasuno. he did used to be a master intimidator himself, on and off court. he knows what it feels to suss someone out for anything he can pick on to his advantage.
the years truly might have mellowed him out a little if he’s willing to be picked and prodded at as opposed to his reflex of pissing someone off for shits and giggles.
“how old are you again, chicken little?”
“i’m turning twenty-nine this year, l/n-san.”
a few minutes of silence pass with the dull clinking of cutlery and glassware as water bubbles in the sink. kei feels a sweat bullet dripping down his temple, the last time he felt this anxious was during the prefectural qualifiers where he was subbed out during an intense match and when shoyo literally dropped mid-match in nationals.
“will you wait for her? to be stable, to reach where you are? you won’t rush her?”
well. the answer is easy. ask him a year ago and he’ll probably look at the person who asked funny. because why the hell should he be worried about another person aside himself? why would he adjust for another person when he’s good already?
but now?
“i’ll walk with her, l/n-san. i’ve already went through the path she’s treading before, when i was as unsteady as her at the start of my career,” kei doesn’t know what face he’s making but his heart feels mushy and full, he thinks by now it’s terribly obvious that your boyfriend has a big fat soft spot for you, “there’s no reason i shouldn’t make it easier for her, i don’t like seeing her struggling as much as i like teasing her.”
a glass cup clinks rather harshly against the tiled counter of your kitchen as your papa pauses from his dishwashing. kei hears him rounding up to face him before he feels a hand grip his shoulder roughly.
“she’s our sunshine, you hear? she’s her dad and i’s brightest light in our lives next to minoru. despite being brought up in a household with two dads, despite bearing the burden of being the eldest, she never was a difficult kid. she grew up fast despite our efforts to let her be a kid who didn’t have to defend her two gay fathers and surrogate sibling to those wimpy ass idiots who didn’t know any better than running their stupid prick mouths.”
kei realizes, with startling clarity as he looks at eyes that mirror yours simmering with the quiet fury of a brewing storm, that you probably get your toughness from your papa despite being soft-spoken most of the times. he thanks whatever higher being there is that your dad’s gentleness somehow managed to cancel out your papa’s brashness in you. this silent strength in you doesn’t overwrite your softness, he finds it beautiful. he finds you beautiful.
“you’re the first she’s ever brought home, the first real something she asked of us. i don’t give a rat’s ass on how but you’ll avoid doing anything that’ll make her sad. if you ever do anything, i mean anything, to dim her down, i’ll shove those eyeglasses of yours so far back in your head that you’d start seeing the back of your own skull.” and doesn't he know it? if anything, since you managed to capture every one of his friend’s good graces, he has multiple people who would beat his ass down if he ever ends up making you cry. hell, he might even join them.
“i won’t take her from you, l/n-san. at least not yet.” pointedly, he chooses to ignore the scathing glare thrown his way, “it’s not like i could ever take bun away from you guys, really. she adores you three with all of her being. it would only be right to start practicing calling you papa too, shouldn’t i?”
taking the loud smack he got at the back in stride, he didn’t quite expect to hear a few sniffles from the older man besides him. once again, he chooses to quietly accept the nearest he could get to approval for now.
“getting ahead of yourself a bit, aren’t you, you little shit?”
kei is probably gonna be in your papa’s temporary shitlist with how brazen he’s about to be. but what really does he have to lose by being forthcoming when he wants to reassure your parents that he’s really not going anywhere you’re not already at?
“well,” damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t, “we have time. it’s not like i’m ever going anywhere when your eldest already has me considering the long haul after just a year.”
tagging･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧
@kokokoula @kongkhoi
good god man, i haven't written at all since the holidays. i was attacked with terrible longing and next thing i know im spinning the wheel on which scenario for older museum bf tsukki should i fixate on again. i have this pattern where i write for a minimum of 2 to 4 months for a single shit even if im hyper locked in on it .... in other news i have discovered about 4 more new hobbies aside from maladaptive daydreaming about tsukki. *squints at my wip list* right .... so next one is either exes to lovers tsukki, a viking x noble eustass kid (surprise!!), a lads fic, or a completely unknown new thing ahahsahsha. i really am sorry that im inconsistent when it comes to giving out content and thank you for enjoying whatever brainworm i shit out for the month.
copyright 2026 cirquedelooney — all rights reserved.
dividers from saradika
ms paint format from pinterest
031626 ❦ TSUKISHIMA KEI. stealing the food but not a kiss? how rude. 𓂃 fluff | 0.7k wc | good morning lawl
the click of the lock had barely finished echoing through the quiet entryway before tsukishima kei’s hand was suddenly light. one moment he was gripping a paper bag heavy with honey garlic chicken wings—the next, he was staring at his own empty palm.
the culprit: the love of his life, you.
limbs paralyzed, hands still suspended in the air, he watches you retreating back as you scurry towards the kitchen, with a cackle so loud it bounces off the walls and reverberates his bones with untamed happiness. you’re just so hungry already, that you literally forgot to even greet your husband a kiss or coo him first before stealing the main event.
he sighs, smirk forming around the corner of his lips. “i see,” he says, "i wasn't aware i’d walked into a nature documentary. is the hunter going to share, or should i just go back outside and forage for myself?”
“you can fend for yourself!” you holler, and he can’t help but chuckle at that.
he steps out of his shoes, lining them up without haste while he listens to the frantic rustle of paper and the unmistakable clack of chopsticks being snapped apart in the other room.
when he finally saunters into the kitchen, he leans against the counter, adjusting his glasses so the light caught the lenses, masking his eyes. you were already mid-bite, looking entirely too pleased with your heist.
"really impressive," he drawls, his eyes fixed not on the food but on you, looking so unbothered and snug in your nightgown. gazing from head to toe as he rests his head on his hand, exhaling through his nose while his shoulders fully relax.
he reaches out, his long fingers plucking a stray grain of rice from the corner of your mouth— causing you to pause and finally, finally give him the attention he’s been craving ever since he got home. craving you more than the food itself.
“if you're going to act like a scavenger, at least try to be a neat one," he murmurs, his tone dropping the tease for something a little more tired, and much more fond. "if you eat them all, i’m making you do the dishes for a week."
the silence that follows his threat is thick with the scent of honey and garlic, punctuated only by the sound of you chewing—a little slower now, eyes wide as you finally process the man leaning over you.
he doesn’t shy his hand away immediately, his thumb lingers on your lower lip. and he feels warm all over.
“…you’re late," you mumble around a piece of chicken, though the fire in your voice has died down into a guilty sort of sweetness. you nudge a container toward him with your elbow, a peace offering.
"i’m late because i was standing in line for the specific wings you texted me about three times today," he counters, finally pulling out the chair beside you. he doesn't sit properly; he slumps, his long legs tangling with yours under the small kitchen table. raising a brow, he asks, "and this is the thanks i get? grand larceny?"
he picks up a pair of chopsticks himself, but he doesn't go for the chicken. instead, he’s mesmerized by the way your hair is slightly mussed from a day spent indoors, the way the light from the overhead lamp reflects in your eyes. your smile doing more for his fatigue than any caffeine could. though granted he hates caffeine, anyway.
“what you lookin’ at, hm?” you wave a wing in front of his face. “and stop looking at me like that.”
“like what?”
you shrug, suddenly aware of how you look. “like you’re going to eat me instead of the food.”
“i’m considering my options.” his voice dropping to a low, melodic hum. he leans in, close enough that you can smell the crisp night air still clinging to his jacket, and takes a bite—not of the wing you're holding out, but of a different one still in the box, his eyes never leaving yours.
“oh my god.”
“got you.”
he chews slowly, a genuine, albeit small, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "you win this round. but if i find a single drop of sauce on the sofa, i’m retiring from takeout duty permanently."
he’s lying, of course. he’d bring home the entire restaurant if it meant coming back to this every night.
pakiramdam, oh, kay gaan ‘pag nariyan ka
tila lahat ng pagod ay naglaho na
kahit sa anong bagyo, sa yakap mo ay sisilong
sa piling mo, ako’y sigurado
— oh, flamingo!
pairing. collegebf!tsukishima kei/fem!reader
✦ content! 2.3k wc, light angst in the beginning, academic burnout, soft! and clingy!kei i will die on this hill, shit-talk about valentines but proceeds to be romantic in the most disgusting pathetic yearning way, getting half-drenched in the rain, non-sexual intimacy (showering tgt), kissing and cuddling and healing altogether
✦ a late valentine fic written by yours truly, one of my favorite works ever, this holds a special place in my heart and to anyone who reads this, i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i wrote it. all hearts be filled with love!
➽──────────────❥
days before valentines, you thought you wouldn’t be able to survive the week. several tender spots bruised you; deadlines, workloads, wallet devoid of any help in your daily necessities, and the drive to maintain to your impossibly high standards in academics. you’ve lost sleep, but not for burning the midnight oil, no— you just had to waste your time doomscrolling and avoiding reality entirely. which really only produced mediocre results as anticipated.
you wonder how tsukishima kei does it, all while being able to stand atop of everyone else; your number one boyfriend of the century. it’s admirable, but almost makes you feel like you can’t stand on the same podium with him, shrinking yourself to his shadow as if to seek refuge.
and with all the pressure pushing you past your limit, you fail to realize just how callous you’ve gotten, until he starts to mirror you.
the night before valentines, you give him a call.
“what’s wrong? you’ve been in a dry spell with me since this morning.” you notice his messages are just barely a sentence, his tone lack the usual warmth he brings, you think maybe he’s just tired — but then you already asked him a couple of times and denied it. your phone goes silent as you plunge yourself to your mattress, your clothes and bag and even your desk all left unattended, your letter unfinished with the pen still uncapped.
a beat lingered, stretched with a quiet tension in your gut, he says, “nothing.”
“what are you up to?”
“just finished my workout, i’m fine.”
you check the time, close to a late evening. you rub your eyes from the weary, trying and failing to understand how far gravity can pull you in this moment, how long will you wire it gently until you’re poised to snap. you’re tired, you should be sleeping by now, he should be sleeping by now.
maybe it’s best to disengage, it doesn’t seem like he’s willing to have this conversation anyway, “okay then, i’m gonna head to bed-”
“i don’t know—” abrupt, you feel the hesitation pressing around his throat, the breath of someone who’s been holding in for too long, “you just keep disappearing right after you text me.”
”…what?”
“just tell me you’re busy.”
“i- i am busy, kei. you know that.” fuck. you don’t mean to raise your voice. you’ve been crawling your way out of this hellhole for days, sure you’re not big into valentines, the grandness of gifts overflowing is all a sickening part of capitalism— but god, you just want to be wrapped in his arms so badly already. “i still text you though?”
“i usually ask first. you don’t even send photos anymore.” his voice cuts through the line, snappy. “and you just keep leaving me on read before you could reply an hour after, don’t you ever think that’s rude?”
“don’t you ever think that i never blamed you when you do that?!”
“hey.”
“you didn’t even ask me if i was okay this morning.”
“i didn’t know if we were good.”
“how the hell can we be good now?”
“i’m not— i’m not trying to pick a fight with you.”
your head spins and splits, a sharp inhale sears your chest without meaning to. guilt and regret mixed in your mouth, a hint of something bitter coated on the tongue.
you swallow nonetheless. expelling your thoughts through a soft, slow exhale from your nose. a murmur comes like a ghost to soothe. “sure, kei.”
“i’m not asking you to be available all the time. just. give me a heads up if you can’t update.” you hear him shift through the phone, every word brings a pause, voice heavy with hurt, “i really miss you, i keep…waiting for you to tell me about your day, even though the first thing on your mind when you get home is rest.” he heaves a sigh, you can imagine him shaking his head, purse his lips instead of frowning, graze the free edge of his nails between fingertips. “and i’m sorry if—”
“no.” you know what he’s sorry for, “don’t apologize for asking. it’s not too much.”
you tell him you’ll do better. ask him if he could remind you tomorrow so you can share your week with him. you know this doesn’t suffice, but you’re doing the best that you can. and he tells you just as much.
“i want to let you know that i’m proud of you, you deserve the rest,” he says your name like it could whisk away the bruise, a very calm, comforting balm draping your skin. “sweet dreams, i’ll see you soon.”
if you dream long enough about it, he could be here with you, sleeping soundly. his voice is as quiet as the soft, pitter patter of rain outside. you hope to be with him very soon, indeed.
➽──────────────❥
how can you love someone without being selfless? or better yet, how can you love someone without being selfish?
tsukishima kei is no poet, but he thinks that selfishness and selflessness are just two sides of the same coin, minted from the desperate need to matter. and if he isn’t a poet, he’s definitely a thief, for he takes away the fairness in flipping that coin, he can’t allow blind faith to determine its landing; today, he chooses selfishness, and he dares fate to try and pry his knuckles open.
he justifies it—he spent six long and tired days without seeing you, much less have you in a space where time could feel irrelevant. no, he’s not really into valentines either, but if it meant he’d have the chance to soak himself in your very presence today without feeling cringe of himself to come up with an excuse, then he’ll take it without a scoff.
even if the universe plans on thrusting the blame on him, even if fate makes it a point to make this special day his problem.
he’s not sure if he’s awaken by your notification (which is personalized so that he’s free to ignore everyone else) or the drizzling rain, or maybe the way his feet’s grown numbly cold because he’s still using a blanket too small for his size, he kicks it aside and tries to reach for his glasses, the chill of the room pooling around his ankles, reminding him of your absence.
he immediately replies to your good morning and— suddenly your chat bubble pops up, you sent a picture of yourself without makeup, and he doesn’t miss the puffiness around your eyes. did you cry on call?
you look beautiful.
thank you kei, i’ll be heading out soon. just have to get this PE done and over
GOD i hate curl ups
warm up first okay? i’ll go to the gym while i wait for you
o-kei
i love you.
i love you too, kei <3
he knows you and the molded lines on your face, he thinks this one text of yours could look like your warm smile he’s aching to see.
he gets up right as you locked your door and head to your university.
➽──────────────❥
an hour and a half later, in the haze of fluorescent lights and squeaky sneakers on school gym floors, you’re drenched in sweat and the physical manifestation of the week’s weight, your core strained. you had to manipulate some trials and write down a number fitting enough for your professor to not suspect. plus, you feel dirty, you might need a shower after this.
you kind of hoped for the sun to appear, but the sky cries louder, fields of murky gray greet you as you finally exit from the campus. you smell the petrichor through the air, february expanding itself as time slows. you fish out your phone while holding your umbrella, hoping to meet your solitude and tell him you’re here—
look up, idiot
“huh?”
across the street, there he stands in one of the awnings, tall and looking half-unbothered but mostly keeping his stare fixed at you. he’s a terrible eyesore even from afar— too calm and well composed and everything you’ve been missing—and when you check before crossing and duck under the awning to join him, he catches your wrist first before sliding it down to your hand. your heart stutters at the sight of him, you say, out of breath. “hi.”
“you look like you’re about to collapse." he suppresses a chuckle, voice low but enough to hear him while the crowd of students disperse. his free hand rummages through his small duffel bag as he hands you his water bottle.
he brushes your hair behind your ear, some passerby spared him a glance before turning to their friend, whispering. and you have to admit that maybe he’s been admiring for however long he was standing here from faces you don’t want to acknowledge. it makes you a little bit insane, and jealous.
he interlaces his fingers with yours, watches you finish drinking before you tuck it in his bag yourself. a smirk hovers your lips, “is that a way to greet your girlfriend?”
“i’m not here to be polite,” he says, thumb rubbing the back of your knuckles in such a conscious way, fair skin and soft to touch, you feel your palms start to sweat, “i’m here to take you home, and i’m staying.”
he doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time. your shoes are soon drenched from the amassing puddles, and you find yourself laughing at him as he mumbles a steady stream of curses—stupid rain and fuck valentines and god, i hate traffic. he directs sharp glares at passing cars with enough venom that you’re almost ready to find him a brick to throw.
the tension of last night’s call still hums in the back of your mind, but it softens every time you look at him. on the subway, the city blurs outside the window, and you feel his shoulders finally drop their guard the moment you lean your head against him. waiting for the next stop, you look up at him. beneath the reflection on his thick-lensed glasses, he wears a face of exhaustion he hides so well.
you remain quiet with the revelation, despite how he stands in the high podium, his tired bones match yours perfectly. you like to think, at this moment, that you’re not shrinking into his shadow anymore — you’re just two people leaning on each other, and that neither of you has to fall.
and when you’re finally fumbling with your keys, the heat of his palm found on your lower back grounds you, invites you once the door clicks shut. the silence of your apartment feels more of a sanctuary than a void.
you drop both your bags, “i’m gonna shower, the gym floors were disgusting.”
he sheds his damp jacket, removes his glasses and let it rest on your table, and without any judgement he glances at the way your shoulders droop, “go. i’m coming with you.”
oh.
you’re…a little dumbfounded, and maybe it shows on your face because kei blinks in realization and his ears go red and he clarifies, “only if you want to—”
”i do.” you shy away your gaze, “i want to.”
“are you sure?”
”yeah.” you’ve always wanted to. to understand what’s it like to be inexplicably close, what it means to be taken care of, how your hands will learn every place he can’t reach.
at this point, you’re just finding reasons to be close to him, and if he realizes this, you hope he doesn’t mind.
the bathroom fills with steam, you sigh in relief at the warm droplets meeting your skin, the sound of water hitting the tiles bounces through the walls in a muffled rhythm, less harsh than the cool unrelenting rain. he follows suit, and you have to quell your racing heart at the sight of him. here, you feel vulnerable—so intimately bare. here, possibly, nothing else matters.
he takes the soap from your hand, large palms slick with foam. “turn around baby,” he whispers, like the air feels fragile— fingers careful around the slope of your shoulder, travels down to the curve of your spine, circle motions around your stomach and a delicate slide to your chest.
“wash my hair too?” you ask, looking at the floor than at him.
you hear him hum behind you, “okay, let me finish lathering you first.”
there is something profoundly selfish about the way he handles you, intent in his gentleness, like he knows already how rough you are with yourself. knows a lot about you, actually. but it feels more selfless than anything, he scrubs away your tender spots off of you until you feel lighter, without question, without hesitation.
he uses your favorite shampoo, gives your head a massage you never knew you needed.
you feel like crying.
when it’s your turn, your hands tremble, you trace all the familiar, sharp lines of his back, feeling the way he bows his head to let you reach. he’s so tall he has to hunch under the spray, and a chuckle escapes you before you could stop. he side glances, a soft smile playing his lips, pale yellow lashes fluttering around droplets that look like jewels. he gives you a look, a tease, bangs sticking to his forehead.
you say, “stop that.” (don’t, though.)
“stop what?”
you both hold each other’s gazes like a mini staring contest, his cheeks blooming. he gives up eventually with a sigh, shaking his head, and bare his neck to you—wants you to keep going.
you continue to wash him in silence, humming a tune that echoes. he seems so firm as a whole, but under your touch, he is anything but. you find it remarkable how unguarded he is with you, how soft he is with you— makes you love him a whole lot more.
“i love you.” you do.
he turns around at that, breaching the small space by pressing his lips against yours as if he could translate the words in your mouth. one hand cradles your face, his thumb sweeping over your cheekbone with a reverence that makes your knees unbearably weak, while the other hooks you by the waist, pulling you flush against the lean, warm length of him.
between the infinitesimal gap he mutters, “i love you too.” he stays there for a moment, forehead on to yours. “we’re good now, right?”
“yeah?”
“good.” he nods, as if to confirm it.
later, when you’re wrapped up in oversized towels, he suggests getting takeout while you find clothes that would fit him. hand out your electric blanket so he feels warmer. you end up wearing his old and worn out highschool jersey for…nostalgic reasons. and he pretends it doesn’t affect him but pulls you in with him on the bed a little rougher than he should, making you melt with him as he asks if you could recount your week.
he ignores the dampness of your hair and plants a kiss to your scalp, plants another and let it grow into thousands— when you’re done finally sharing your part, he takes you in selfishly, capturing your lips with a sort of wholeness, and a lifetime to spare.
take your time koulaaa no pressure ! 🫶🫶 i recently just came back ^_^
HAPPY NEW YEAR SOLV SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY AHHH
i havent been on tumblr much just to keep up with tsukki fics and moots' updates and i don't check my inbox 😭😭 i missed u too and my tsukki community so much rahhh it was my golden era
the past few months have been crazy i got a bf now (which is also the reason why i havent been on tumblr much) BUT IM NOT LEAVING TSUKKI NO WORRIES 💗💗
hope u've been doing ok!! ur latest writings muah chef's kiss it has been too long 🥀
pairing. tsukishima kei x reader.
part of the snowflake collab w @dira333 ♥︎
content. fake dating trope gone wrong right. kei is very soft bc i said so. 1k wc. thank you sm for proofreading @stellar-headquarters ily
tsukishima can never really tell the depth in which your secrets are entombed. confused if you’re even trying, if you knew how to bury something well and alive. a secret that has a pulse and breathes loudly to prove its existence.
“do you think he’ll—“ he quickly shushes you, heart throbbing in fear as your trembling hands go numb from the cold. tsukishima holds them for you, presses his palms together and provides you something close to safety— like he’s giving you a promise, and he’s also giving you the call if you should accept it.
but nothing is more relieving than him being here with you, pretending he’s yours just so your stalker could finally give up and leave you the fuck alone. “hey,” he whispers, eyes frantic and searching for your gaze. “look at me. i’m here.”
you nod, focusing on the way the darkness of the alleyway paints him a little mellow and blue. your breathing steadies after several minutes, though it isn’t guaranteed if the stalker lost his way after trying to fuck up your peaceful life. it sets you off, and you’ve learned to be so good at hiding yourself, away from what could threaten anything you’ve worked hard on. but that made you allergic to asking for help, made you sick to your stomach knowing you could cry in front of someone as you begged for it.
he wipes your tears, guides your arms into a hug as you bury yourself against his chest, “shh. it’s okay.” it has been a month since he agreed to be your boyfriend, one month of learning to slot your fingers between the spaces of his hand, one month of trying to stop him from kissing you on the forehead every after a date. one month of him carving a space of security for you that you don’t deserve. a month of him being the victim of your tender, bruised longing.
because really, who are you trying to fool?
“i think he’s gone.” he blinks at his wristwatch, checks the surroundings while he’s holding you. “come on, i’ll take you home.”
you needed a bit more convincing, but you step out together with him, walking away as fast as you could without looking too far back. tsukishima’s arm serves as an anchor, looking like he’s ready to sprint just as you are.
when you arrive at your apartment, you check through the window while tsukishima locks everything. grabs your taser and puts it somewhere he can easily access, just in case the stalker breaks in. he tells you he can stay in for the night—insists, actually—even as you kept shaking your head no, and ready to cry any second.
“being stubborn right now isn’t gonna do you any good.” he says, voice harsh with worry, skin pale, and hair disheveled from running his hand through it over and over, his glasses hanging askew. he squeezes your shoulder in such a grounding way that it forces you to breathe deeply and sigh in defeat.
you fix his glasses in place, “sorry...just- just for the night, then.”
“alright.” his hand rests on your cheek, planting a firm, gentle kiss on your forehead like a habit, making you forget that you’re not rightfully his, before deciding that you need a shower.
“oh, i’ll start a bath for you.” a smile plays on his lips, looking softer than he is. it feels like he knows something you don’t.
you wait, sitting on your bed like an awkward sack of shit. surely there must be something wrong with you, the fact that you ooze with trouble, and the way that you can’t cut anything, even as you bleed from it. you had him roped into this mess, but he’s— god, he’s so good to you. he does these things that make you swing like a pendulum, never on the verge of falling off because he makes it seem as though he can catch you anytime.
“it’s ready now-” he calls your name, confused. you look up at him with a blurry vision, melting completely as he approaches, sitting on his knees in front of you, with concern etched on his face. “what’s gotten you so sad again?”
“you’ve done a lot for me.” you sniff, making him chuckle as he calls you a crybaby. “i love you, you know?”
it’s hot on your skin, burning along the truth laid bare. “this one month with you has been the worst and best time of my life. but i can’t. i can’t do this to you.”
“bullshit.” he denies, wide-eyed and jaw slack. shaking his head slowly as though to emphasize, “you can do anything to me. i don’t care.”
“tsukish-”
“kei.”
firefly. one that makes light for himself, one that he shares with you. “please, just kei.”
you don’t know what comes first, your lips on his or the way he slides his arms around the tender of your waist. it’s not scalding, no, but the warmth trickles down to your spine, knocks you out breathlessly as he sets down his glasses in one swift motion. he kisses you like he means it, that he’s sorry for uncovering you before you got the chance to dig into the soil. that he knows you before you do.
you pull yourself back and catch your breath. resting your hand against his chest, feel the way his heart stutters. he pants too, his hold on your thighs firm as he lays his head down on your lap. “do you know how much i wanted to do that for a long time?”
for the first time since ever, you laugh. “do tell.”
“i love you.” he closed his eyes for a moment, heaving a sigh with the rise and fall of his back. “everyone knew except you. even though i was your boyfriend.”
the orange glow of the light makes his blonde locks shine even warmer, you comb it a few times as you hum, “you are my boyfriend now, no?”
he looks up, the high swell of his cheeks tint a shade of pink as a smile brings the moon to confess, “yes, about time.”
my headcanon of bf!tsukishima kei getting a tattoo
i know it’s unlikely of him of getting one unless it held significance, he wouldn’t do anything he’s unsure of. a back tattoo would be his first choice, only for you to see. only for you to keep. but kei is nothing if not a tease, he enjoys seeing you tongue-tied whenever he reveals his back, as if he’s just exposed his victorian ankle and reveled in the scandalous act.
though he never really stands a chance when it comes to you, when your fingers trace the outline of the tattoo, slide your palm like a ghost on the broad of his back, kiss the skin up to his shoulder joint, “now, this, is scandalous.” so he says, a little out of breath as you held his heart captive. you’re out of your mind, making him feel his heartbeat on his throat.
“can i paint you?”
“i don’t think i have much of a choice here.” he lightly scoffs, a soft sound that has you giggling. face against the mattress, he could sense the form of a smile from the way you hum, absorbed in your artistry. he thinks he could love you a whole lot more than you do, thinks he might since the tattoo was made at the thought of you.
when you take a picture of your finished piece, his back spread like a canvas that was thoroughly and carefully painted, maybe getting another tattoo doesn’t sound so bad.
tsukishima kei x reader. fluff. nobody knew you were dating!!! lol just something fun i thought of haha
you groan, hand coming up to rub the side of your head.
the skin there feels tender—sore. combined with the massive headache wrecking you this second, and the scrapes and cuts littering all over your face from when you fell on straight concrete, you’d imagine it wasn’t a pretty sight when you try to give hinata a reassuring smile.
“i am so sorry, i didn’t realize you were there—”
you wave him off. “it’s okay. if anything, i’m the one who should be sorry, i didn’t realize you guys were practicing.”
“a volleyball to the head though,” kageyama mumbles. “you sure you don’t have a concussion?”
you laugh and it quickly turns into a wince, which doesn’t make your next words seem very promising. “the nurse said i’ll be fine. don’t worry.”
as usual, hinata and kageyama start arguing. it sounds like they’re blaming the other but you can hardly pay any attention to it as your head pulses. and it’s getting increasingly overwhelming by the second as the rest of the team circles around your bed.
“hey, guys.”
kageyama stops, with a hand shoved into hinata’s face. “yeah? what’s up?”
“can you get kei in here?”
confusion flits across everyone’s faces, a second of silence until sugawara speaks up. “…tsukishima? yeah we can. what do you need him for…?”
you shrug with your eyes closed. “just figured he should know.”
low murmuring breaks out across the group, only broken when the door to the nurse’s office slides open abruptly.
relief floods you when you see a familiar head of blonde hair above the others. it comes closer and closer, slinking in between the bodies crowding around you. only until he stops behind kageyama and hinata do you hear his voice.
“move. you’re in the way.”
wordlessly, kageyama and hinata untangle themselves, astonishingly quiet. their eyes follow kei walking up to you, comically widening when he cradles your face gently to asses your injuries.
you smile up at him. “sorry, i just asked them to get you. i know you were waiting for me.”
“it’s fine. i heard what happened,” kei says, with a soft voice unheard of by anyone but you. clearly, with the way you can practically hear the jaws dropping to the ground.
kei maneuvers your head around gently, fingers brushing over a scrape on your cheek. “it looks like it hurts a lot. i’ll just walk you home today.”
your hand comes up to hold his. “yeah, maybe a rain check on plans?”
he nods once, a firm one, before returning a small smile of his own. slowly, he releases you before turning to your bedside, packing your belongings with knowing movements.
it’s a sweet moment, it always is when he dotes on you. he doesn’t show it often, but you radiate whenever it happens. your conversation comes across as small mumbles. an atmosphere a little too intimate as the rest of the team watches, eyes completely bugged out.
nishinoya quickly tugs on yamaguchi’s arm. “hey, hey. what’s this? why are they talking like that?”
“he smiled,” kageyama mumbles.
sugawara laughs, a hint of a blush on his face. “i didn’t know tsukishima could be this sweet…”
hinata just keeps staring.
yamaguchi looks at the rest of team, one eyebrow lifted. “you guys don’t know?”
tsukishima pauses, his heart coming to a full stop.
a gust of wind rushes by, picking up the autumn leaves beneath your feet. they spin—twirl around your body in a flurry, as if responding to the three words rolling off your tongue. the three words that he’s never heard anyone say to him with such pure unwavering sincerity.
you stand before him, eyes hardset and resolute. your hair dances with the wind—with the leaves, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more magical sight.
“kei,” you call out to him, your voice carrying with the breeze as you repeat, “i love you.”
his mind races and stops all at the same time, trying to register your words—trying to ingrain them in his heart. all of a sudden, any snarky comment prepared on the tip of his tongue leaves. any semblance of a joke or a sneer drifts away, gone with the gusts of the crisp autumn air.
“me? you love me? you mean it?” he asks. a genuine question. not a mocking one. not a taunting one. a soft question. a hopelessly desperate question that tastes unfamiliar coming from his lips.
you smile, and it’s as if the sun beaming in the sky struggles to keep up, left in the shadows behind your figure. your voice heightens his senses, tickles his skin, rings in his ears as you affirm,
baby is 29 now 💗!! i swear i didn't forget him i just had work the entirety of yesterday 😭 i'll definitely have something for the loml's birthday i love him so much 🫶🫶
a bundle of anxiety @kokokoula - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
