he's such an asshole at work. he micro-manages everything you do and scrutinises your work to an unfairly harsh degree. he doesn't pay attention when you speak, or he just rolls his eyes and dismisses what you say. he talks shit about you behind your back but never leaves a trail so you can't report him to HR.
you didn't want to attend this stupid work night-out, if he was going to be there.
hence, it's honestly quite jarring how the night spins from laughing and having one-too-many glasses of wine with your colleuge at the bar, to you sprawled across his bed while he hits it from behind.
all your clothes have been discarded, and you're so drunk you can't remember whether you took your shoes off at his door or if you lost them during your uber ride home (during which you could hardly keep your hands off each other; the poor driver was probably mortified.)
regardless, none of that mattered now that you were collapsed on his sheets, letting his fat cock ram into your hole over and over, abusing that senisitive spot inside you. he stood at the edge of the bed, holding your hips firmly in place while he drilled into you, but he was so hammered that he was on the verge of losing balance with each rough thrust of his hips. the only way he could steady himself was by leaning forward, so his chest was against your back and his body is pressed closely against yours.
you can feel his laboured breathing against the shell of your ears as he groans, "you're—" his voice hitches, "so, so pretty. my sweet angel." he lazily scatters kisses against your back, pecking at your neck and working his way around your shoulders while his cock continues to plow into your pussy at a delirious rate. the cold lenses of his glasses against your skin almost causes you to shudder.
"kei.." you moan, toes curling at the way he keeps stretching out your creamy cunt. you couldn't get enough of him, hence you arched back into his touch, craving more friction to send you over the edge.
"hm? baby.." he rumbles against your skin, lips dragging lazily against the tender flesh of your neck, "what is it? talk to me."
so sensitive, and barely able to contain yourself, you choke, " 'm close.." the only words your intoxicated mind is able to grasp. and you can feel as the corners of tsukishima's lips tug into a smirk at your pathetic little whimper.
"close? my cute little assistant is ready to cum? that right?" he taunts, running a hand down your bare body and gripping at the meat of your thigh, causing to mewl into his sheets. "want me to fill up that tight hole, huh?" the speed of his thrusts begin to decrease and his hips rock carefully into you, each movement deliberate and teasing, "my perfect angel. that's what you want, right? to be mine. such a good girl."
you nod frantically into the duvet, and try to grind back against his cock but his lethal one-handed grip on your waist prevents you from doing so. but your desperation for stimulation is somewhat satisfied when his other hand trails down to toy with your needy clit, "don't know why i call you names. you're not a stupid whore, are you, baby?" he presses a messy kiss against the angle of your jaw, "no, whores aren't this fucking tight. no, you're an angel. the prettiest angel i've ever seen." his hot breath tickles your skin as he chuckles.
he jovially slaps your clit, the jolt of short-lived escasty causing you to cry out, "please, kei! i need you, please fuck me!" your voice is shaky and there's genuine desperation in your tone, which tsukishima is able to pick up on, even in his inebriated state.
"want more, princess?" he says in a low voice.
"yes.."
he gives you another drunken kiss, against your cheek this time, just at the corner of your lips, "how could i say no to you, beautiful. you're too hot to ignore." his final chuckles echoes through your head as that's the last sounds you're able to process before your brain is fucked straight out of your skull.
he splits you in half and your whole body trembles with each fierce thrust of his dick into your slobbering pussy. his tip doesn't relent at that rough spot on your walls that he knows drives you crazy , and although his aim is inhibited by the several drinks he's had, the pure urgency of his pace alone is enough to cause you cum before you even know what's going on.
"ah, perfect little slut. just like that. cumming all pretty for your boss. so behaved." he groans, caressing your waist lovingly. spasming around his cock, your fluttering walls are not able to prevent tsukishima from continually rutting into you. he's chasing his own high now, aching for a release just as badly as you were, and stopping at nothing until he's climaxed, even as if that means using you as his personal fleshlight for hours while you lay there — overstimulated and fucked-out — under him. well, maybe you weren't there for hours, that could be an exaggeration but truthfully, you're unsure. after your orgasm, you were so hazed and blank that your body's internal clock had broken. perhaps you were there for hours, maybe you were only there for a couple seconds.
regardless, the end result was the same. his sticky seed spilling through your insides, coating your slick walls. feeling his cock throb within you ignited something in the pit of your stomach, but he yanked himself out of your pussy before the sensation had an opportunity to foster. not by choice though, he'd keep his cock buried in your tight cunt all night if he could. but the sheer volume of his load that he had deposited inside you, left you so conjested with no room for his dick. instead, he had to heave himself upright so he could watch your puckered little pussy drip with his cum.
"nice n' full." he muses, using his finger to guide whatever cum was staining your folds back into your hole, with a lewd squelch. "my sweet angel."
｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ
although that encounter was surreal and left you with an strong (yet entirely inappropriate) yearning for your asshole co-worker, the awkward part was that come the next morning, he didn't seem to remember a single thing.
after the main event, you both collapsed and fell asleep. however, you woke up in the middle of the night to collect your stuff and stagger home, and despite how it's all a little fuzzy, you still retain the majority of your memories from that night.
tsukishima on the other hand, doesn't seem to remember a thing. he didn't acknowledge it once when he saw you in person at work the next day, not even a nudge or a knowing glance. nothing. albeit, he did act a bit more demure in the few days following the incident, but that was likely due to the embarrassment of drinking, and he was back to acting as cruel and irritating-self in no time. with no awareness to the fact he stuffed your cunt full with his seed at the work night-out.
how grim. but perhaps this was for the best, at least his amnesia erases the chance of a HR nightmare. still, you can't help but feel a bit jaded that your entire relationship with him was exactly where it started, because he couldn't remember a thing.
or, at least, that's what you thought. until he notices you working overtime one evening, and drops a box of cream-filled doughnuts at your desk. there's no one around, so he's already snacking on one, and he opens the box to reveal the rest to you. "here." he states bluntly.
you perk up from your desk, and glance between him and box, eyes wide with hope (and suspicion), "for me? why?"
tsukishima shrugs, sauntering away from your desk. but not without first motioning to the part of the doughtnut where the cream poked out, and commenting,
Some wounds aren’t carved by time, but by words that can never be taken back.
With Tsukishima, you never expected sweet words or grand gestures. His love was quiet, hidden in the smallest things: lending you his scarf when you forgot yours, waiting for your texts late at night even if he acted like it was an inconvenience, adjusting his long strides so you could walk beside him.
But lately, those quiet things had stopped.
It wasn’t sudden. It was gradual, like sand slipping through your fingers. The dinners where he used to ask about your day turned into evenings where he scrolled through his phone, barely responding. The small touches—his hand brushing against yours, his chin resting on your shoulder—became rare.
And then came the words.
One night, you were sitting together in his apartment. You had been telling him about something that happened at work, a funny story you thought he’d like. But halfway through, he sighed and muttered under his breath—
“Do you ever stop talking?”
You froze.
He didn’t even look at you. Didn’t see the way your throat closed, the way your chest ached at the sharpness of it. He just kept scrolling through his phone like it didn’t matter. Like you didn’t matter.
You laughed it off, because what else could you do? “Sorry… guess I ramble sometimes.”
But that night, you lay awake next to him, eyes open, staring at the ceiling while his back faced you. You replayed the moment over and over, hearing it louder each time. Do you ever stop talking?
And slowly, you did.
You stopped telling him about your day. Stopped sharing your excitement, your fears, your small joys. You grew quieter, careful, walking on eggshells so you wouldn’t be “too much.” And he didn’t notice. Or maybe he did, but said nothing.
The apartment grew silent. Not peaceful silence, but heavy, suffocating silence.
And the worst part? You still loved him. Even when he made you feel unwanted. Even when your laughter died in your throat. Even when the person you once were—bright, talkative, alive—faded into someone quieter, smaller, dimmer.
One evening, as you were washing dishes, he glanced at you and frowned. “You’ve been quiet lately. It’s weird.”
You almost laughed at the irony. Instead, you whispered, “You told me I talk too much.”
For the first time, he froze. He remembered. The offhanded remark, the look on your face. And suddenly, he realized: you had taken it to heart. You had believed him.
But by then, it was too late.
Because you weren’t the same anymore. And no matter what he said, no matter how he tried to take it back, Tsukishima knew he had killed something fragile between you—not with a fight, not with a breakup, but with a single careless sentence that lingered like poison in the air.
You didn’t necessarily know what your relationship with Kei was.
If it was up to labels probably friends with benefits or a situationship.
You never really knew.
Neither of you have ever brought it up. But your reasoning was solely because you liked him and you were convinced he was only in this for the sex.
A drunken night was what spurred this up and after that the you both couldn’t stay away. A booty call away, a late night text message.
You were half expecting him to come tonight but you weren’t up for doing anything. You were tired. Physically and mentally.
In a cower of your own thoughts, you confessing like a normal human being didn’t please as an option for you. So you thought pushing him away was better. You knew things would end like this. In one person getting hurt. And since you assumed he wouldn’t have feelings for you, you’d rather be the first to leave.
As you lay in your bed, the moonlight makes its way through your curtains. The chill of the night caressing your face. You felt yourself slipping away.
Yet your door opens and you already know who it is. His tall figure casts a shadow in your room. The moonlight hitting his face so perfectly he looks heavenly. He slides in behind you, pulling your back flush against his chest. His big hand gliding across your tummy.
“M not in the mood Kei.” You whisper.
Your heart is beating rather fast and you’re sure that he could feel it. His movements freeze for a moment but he continues.
“That’s ok.” He whispers against the rim of your ear.
You shudder, your body not knowing whether to warm up or tense. You’re a little shocked that he stays, full heartedly expecting him to leave. You cast a glance behind you and he opens an eye.
“What?” He grumbles, closing his eye once again.
“You’re not gonna leave?” Which you agree sounds terrible but you didn’t mean any harm.
“Jeez, do you want me to?” He perks up and you shake your head.
“No. Sorry. I just thought you’d want to.”
His brows furrow.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, I don’t know I figured you’d just wanna have sex.”
Now he’s definitely confused and even offended.
“Is it really that weird for me to just stay over?”
You purse your lips, embarrassment getting to you.
“A little yes. You’re always gone by the morning.” You mumble.
“Because I have practice.” He says softly.
You sigh, your malicious thoughts getting to you. You both fall silent. Both of you to far in your head.
“Did you really think I just came to fuck?”
You gulp.
“Yea.”
Your voice is soft. Kei probably wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t next to you. But he does and that confirmation hurts him.
“Why?”
You’re growing a little frustrated or maybe it’s the embarrassment getting to you.
“I-I don’t know. We never talked about what we were so I just assumed you didn’t want anything serious.” You sigh.
“I do want something serious with you. But yea, we never really brought it up.” He blinks.
“Ugh you’re being confusing! How can you say all of this with a straight face.” You pout.
He sits up, looking down at you. He motions you to get up as well and he pulls you on his lap. Your cheeks are redder than ever, your eyes scanning everywhere except him.
“Look at me.” He says softly, cupping your cheek.
You meet his golden eyes, his glasses set on your table so you’re able to really look at him. Your arms wrap around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.
“I like you, I’ve always have.” He whispers, a faint smile on his lips.
But you’re finally able to see it. The softness and adoration in his eyes.
All of it.
Just for you.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger. He pulls away just enough that your noses graze eachother.
“I’ll take you out tomorrow after our classes. If my words aren’t enough.” He mumbles.
“It is enough Kei but I’m not opposed to you taking me out.” You smile so big and he looks relieved.
“There you are.” He laughs, meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.
oh, because my head is full of poison. and my heart is full of doubt.
tsukishima kei ; angst
you told him you loved him on a rainy tuesday, the kind of day where the sky looks like an old bruise. you expected a scowl, or maybe one of his trademark sarcastic snorts. instead, you got nothing. just the quiet, rhythmic ticking of the clock on his desk and the steady hum of the radiator.
tsukishima didn’t look at you. he kept his eyes trained on his notebook, his fingers gripping his mechanical pencil just a fraction too tight, the graphite snapping with a sharp, clean click.
“don’t say things you don’t mean,” he murmured, his voice flat, devoid of its usual biting edge. it was worse this way. the lack of venom felt like a door closing in your face.
“i do mean it,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his sleeve, but he pulled his arm back just enough for your fingers to graze empty air. the rejection was subtle, but it stung like a paper cut.
he finally looked at you then, golden eyes shielded behind his glasses, completely unreadable. but if you looked closer, past the armor he wore so well, you could see him rotting away. tsukishima’s mind was a dangerous neighborhood to walk through alone. it’s a crowded, dark place, constantly flooded with every cruel thing he had ever thought about himself, every perceived failure, every expectation he convinced himself he could never meet. he was convinced that good things were just preludes to disappointment.
he didn’t believe you. he couldn’t.
to him, your affection wasn’t a gift; it was a riddle he couldn’t solve, a trap he was waiting to spring. his chest ached with the heavy certainty that you were going to realize your mistake eventually. you would wake up one day, look at his sharp edges and his cold disposition, and you would leave. his own insecurity told him it was a mathematical certainty.
“you’re just lonely,” he said, turning back to his desk, his silhouette looking impossibly distant even though he was sitting right in front of you. “or you’re bored. but you don’t love me. you love the idea of someone who doesn’t exist.”
“tsuki, please,” you breathed, a tear finally slipping down your cheek, hot and betraying. “just look at me.”
“i’m doing you a favor,” he replied, and for a split second, his voice cracked, a tiny fracture in his perfect porcelain mask. “go home.”
he sat there in the dim light, drowning in his own silent convictions, pulling the walls up so high that you couldn’t even see the top anymore. he loved you enough to let you go, but he doubted himself too much to ever believe you wanted to stay.
n: this is one of the most relatable songs ever. i have another one.
⚠︎ tsukishima x fem!reader || use of y/n , miscommunication , mutual pining , emotional angst , fear of rejection , hurt/comfort , confession , kissing , slight arguing.
⤷ you’ve been in love with tsukishima kei for years, but never once found the courage to say it out loud. when he finally asks who you like, you almost tell him the truth. instead, you say completely wrong thing.
and suddenly, everything changes.
by your third year of college, tsukishima kei had become a permanent fixture in your life.
not in any grand, dramatic way. just quietly, gradually.
one day, he was the guy who sat beside you in a lecture because every other seat was taken. the next, he was the person you texted when something reminded you of him. the person you called when you had a bad day and didn’t feel like talking to anyone else. the person whose apartment you ended up in more often than your own, even when there was no real reason to be there.
somewhere along the way, you fell in love with him.
hard.
and somewhere along the way, that became a problem.
because tsukishima was impossible to read.
he was consistent in the smallest ways. coffee before your early classes when you looked like you hadn’t slept, or walking slightly slower when you were tired even though he’d never admit it. but inconsistent in everything that ever actually mattered.
sometimes he’d look at you like you were the only thing in the room. sometimes he’d act like you were just air.
sometimes you caught him staring when he thought you weren’t looking, glasses slightly sliding down his nose as he read something he’d already finished five minutes ago just to avoid being obvious.
sometimes he remembered things you said in passing months ago, and he’d recall it so casually it made your chest hurt more than it should’ve.
but none of it was enough. not enough to risk everything. not enough to risk him.
so you didn’t.
you kept your feelings folded away neatly where no one could see them, and told yourself it was safer that way.
and then there was kageyama tobio.
you really wish there wasn’t.
everyone seemed convinced you liked him. it was easier for them that way, to turn you into something simple and readable. just because he looked at you sometimes when you were with mutual friends, classmates would tease you about it. friends joked about it. even strangers assumed it when you and him were in the same space for more than five minutes.
and every single time, tsukishima looked annoyed.
you always noticed.
of course you did.
you noticed everything when it came to him.
but you never let yourself think too hard about why.
tonight, the two of you are sitting outside your apartment building after a long study session.
the air is cool enough to make your sleeves feel slightly too thin. campus is quiet in a way where everything feels suspended, like the world has paused but forgotten to turn itself back on.
for once, neither of you have anywhere else to be.
you think the night is ending like it always does. quiet conversation fading into comfortable silence, when tsukishima suddenly speaks.
“so.”
you glance up from your phone, “so?”
his eyes stay fixed on the parking lot, “who is it?”
“who is who?” you frown, sliding your phone into your pocket.
“the person you like, y/n.”
well, that’s certainly not what you were expecting.
for a moment, everything feels too loud. your heartbeat, the distant hum of a car passing nearby, the way your breath suddenly doesn’t feel like it fits in your chest anymore.
“what?”
he exhales through his nose like he’s mildly irritated. “the guy you like. everyone keeps talking about it.”
right.
you stare at him. well, this must be it. the opportunity you’ve imagined a hundred different ways. the opportunity you’ve wanted for months.
maybe even years.
you could tell him. you could finally tell him.
the silence rings in your ears, pulling you out of your thoughts.
tsukishima finally turns toward you, “well?”
your mouth goes dry. why is he being so damn persistent? maybe you should just say it. you should just tell him.
but, of course, you laugh nervously instead.
“why do you care, kei?”
tsukishima rolls his eyes, scoffing as if you just asked if dragons were real. “i don’t.”
yeah, clearly, or else he wouldn’t be asking. his answer comes annoyingly fast. you return the eye roll.
“liar.”
he scoffs again. what is with him? why does it even matter?
but you smile despite yourself.
and somehow that makes it easier. you look away, gathering your courage. “fine.”
tsukishima leans back against the bench. “fine.”
your heart is beating so hard it feels painful. “um…well, he’s tall.”
out of the corner of your eye, you see his eyebrows lift slightly. “wow. what a specific description.”
you nudge his shoulder, “shut up.”
a faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he hides it again like it was never even there. so you continue.
“he’s annoying.”
“there it is.” he sighs.
what? what does he mean? does he know who you’re talking about?! no, surely not.
“and rude,” you continue.
“yeah, sounds like a great guy.”
you let out a breath that turns into a laugh before you can stop it. a real one. the kind that only ever seems to happen around him without you meaning for it to.
for a moment, it almost feels normal. it almost feels safe.
“he’s smart. a little nerdy, actually.”
then something changes. it’s subtle, almost impossible for either of you to notice.
but you do.
because you’ve spent years learning him.
tsukishima’s teasing fades first. then his expression. his attention sharpens in a way that makes the air between you feel thinner.
“he acts like he doesn’t care about people.”
the smile on his face disappears completely now.
“but he does.”
you finally look at him. and that’s when you see it.
the softness in his eyes. the hope. not certainty. not confidence.
hope.
like he’s starting to believe you’re talking about him. like he’s trying not to believe it even though he wants to so, so bad.
your stomach drops. suddenly this isn’t hypothetical anymore. this isn’t a daydream. this isn’t some silly fantasy you replay before falling asleep. this is real.
and if you’re wrong? if you say his name and he doesn’t feel the same way? you don’t lose just the confession.
you’ll lose him.
your best friend. your favorite person. the one person you can’t imagine your life without.
you were halfway through the lie when you realized what it would cost you. the look in his eyes should’ve stopped you.
but instead it made everything worse. instead, it filled you with fear. fear of being wrong. fear of ruining everything. fear of watching that hope disappear because of something you said.
so you panic.
you look away too fast, like ripping off a bandage you weren’t ready for.
“kageyama.”
the silence that follows is immediate.
painful. violent.
you don’t even need to look at him to know something has changed. you’ve realized by the look in his eyes what this has caused.
the air feels different. heavier. colder. so, so much colder, and that feeling is accompanied by the goosebumps forming across your body.
when you finally glance over, all hope is lost—like it was never there at all.
tsukishima stares at you for a moment. then he blinks.
“oh.”
just that one little word. but it hurts. it hurts deeply, like you’ve taken a dagger to the heart.
“oh,” he repeats quietly, almost to himself this time, jaw tightening like he’s physically holding something back. you know him well enough to recognize what he’s doing. building the walls back up, one brick at a time.
and suddenly you realize you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.
tsukishima stares at you for a moment after the silence settles, like he’s waiting for you to say something that fixes it. when you don’t, he exhales through his nose and looks away again.
“…right. of course,” he says quietly. those words alone are so much worse than yelling.
your stomach drops. he was really, truly upset. “tsukki—wait, no, i didn’t mean it like that.”
he scoffs. “you did, though.”
“i swear didn’t. i panicked. i literally panicked, i didn’t think—”
“yeah, that’s kind of the problem,” he interrupts, voice sharper now. not loud. just controlled. “you didn’t think. you just said it. clearly, kageyama was the first person you thought of.”
you take a shaky step toward him. “because i thought if i said you, it would be—”
“what?” he cuts in immediately. “what would it be?”
you stop. your mouth opens, then closes again. saliva pools in your mouth. this is absolutely sickening. something that’s only happened in the worst of your dreams.
tears prick your eyes. because saying it out loud makes it real. and you’re still scared.
tsukishima notices. of course he does.
he lets out a short laugh, but there’s nothing in it. “yeah. that’s what i fuckin’ thought,” he turns away from you once again.
“okay, that’s not fair,” you say quickly. “you can’t just decide what i was going to say.”
“i didn’t decide,” he says, finally looking at you again. “you did.”
that lands hard.
you feel your chest tighten. “you’re acting like i went up and chose him with a kiss.”
“you said his name,” he replies flatly.
“yeah, i know,” your voice cracks, and you hate it immediately. “i know i did, but i didn’t mean it, kei.”
“then why’d you even say it?” he said, voice dry, eyes avoiding yours.
“i told you—because i was scared!”
he goes quiet at that. not immediately softer. just still. like that word hit somewhere it shouldn’t have.
“…scared of what?” he asks after a beat.
you let out a shaky breath. “of you.”
tsukishima blinks. “me?”
“yes, you,” you say, more frustrated now because it’s all spilling out. “you act like nothing matters half the time, tsukishima. you sit there and make jokes and act like everything is annoying and stupid and i can never tell if i’m just another person to you or if i actually—“ you pause, swallowing back the nearly painful lump in your throat, “if i actually mean anything.”
his jaw tightens slightly.
“that’s not—” he starts, then stops himself again. his throat tightens, as he looks away. “you’re really bad at this.”
“yeah, i fucking know,” you snap. “i know i’m bad at this, that’s the whole point. i didn’t want to ruin whatever this is between us.” you sloppily gesture between the two of you, doing whatever possible to get your point across.
he laughs again, quiet. “you really think this is fine right now?”
that sure shuts you up. because no, obviously, it’s not fine. your whole relationship is falling apart in real time.
you swallow. “i like you, kei,” you sigh, softer now. “that’s what i was trying to say before i panicked.” you exhale sharply through your nose right after, blinking fast and pressing your lips together like you’ve just forced something out of you that you can’t take back. because you have. this better be whatever he had wanted to hear, because this is irreversible.
tsukishima doesn’t respond immediately. and in a heartbeat, that silence makes you nervous all over again.
then he says, “you can’t say that like it fixes it.”
your breath catches. well, shit. “no, i-i’m not trying to fix it. i’m trying to—i’m telling you the truth!” you argue desperately.
“yeah, after you already said kageyama.”
“goddamnit, i corrected it!” you insist, voice rising slightly. “i literally corrected it!”
“okay, well that’s not how that works,” he says, sharper now, and there it is—the faltering crack in his control again. “you don’t just undo it.”
your eyes sting. what were you even supposed to do? to say? he seems ten toes down on what he’s arguing. your throat tightens, “so what, that’s it?”
“well, i didn’t say that.”
“then what are you saying, tsukishima?”
he goes quiet again. long enough that it starts to feel genuinely unbearable.
then he exhales, slower this time, “i’m saying i thought you were about to say me.”
that stops you completely. you definitely thought it was weird that he reacted in such a way when you said kageyama’s name. but you thought you were extremely delusional to ever imagine this being. nevertheless, here you are.
“…what?”
he looks at you again, and it’s different now. less defensive. more honest in a way that clearly frustrates him. “i thought you were talking about me,” he repeats. “and then you said kageyama.”
your voice drops along with your heart. “tsukki…”
“don’t, y/n,” he says immediately, but not harshly this time. more like he’s trying to hold himself together. “do not make it worse.”
“i didn’t know,” you say quickly. “i didn’t know you felt—”
“i didn’t say i felt anything,” he interrupts, but it’s too late. it’s already slipped.
you stare at him. “you did, though.”
he clicks his tongue, looking away again. “you’re so fucking annoying.”
“okay, that’s not a fucking answer, tsukishima.” you counter, letting the back-and-forth continue. he wasn’t getting away from this. not here, not now.
“yeah, well, it’s the only one you’re getting right now.”
another pause. then you step closer again, more careful this time. “i like you, kei,” you say quietly. “i like you so much it’s actually embarrassing.”
he glances at you, his guard dropping ever so slightly. “yeah?”
“yes.”
“that’s unfortunate,” he says automatically. you blink at him, trying to read his face, but he’s already looking away like he didn’t mean anything by it. still, your thoughts snag on it—unfortunate? what does that even mean? he doesn’t like you back? then what was his little conniption for?
you let out a shaky laugh. “tsukki.”
“what?” he says, but his voice is lower now and slightly shaky. you swallow, staring at the ground.
“i’m sorry.”
“for what?” he questions. you’ve never heard him speak so softly. so gently. like you might shatter to pieces if he raises his voice even slightly.
“for messing this up.” you exhale, heart beating a million miles a minute.
he exhales through his nose, longer this time. “you didn’t mess anything up.”
you blink. “i didn’t? but that completely contradicts—“
oh, he knew. he knew his previous actions weren’t matching his current words. “no,” he blurts, finally looking at you fully again. “you just picked the worst possible delivery method.”
that makes you laugh through your tears a little. “well, kei, i figured as much, given that you lost your shit.”
silence again. but it’s not as cold now. it’s different. you see the sorrow in his eyes. he feels bad for scaring you.
he shifts slightly, like he’s debating something. then he says, quieter, “say it again.”
you frown slightly, brows furrowing in confusion. “what?”
“what you said earlier.” he slowly rocks back and forth on his heels, chewing the inside of his cheek.
your heart stutters. “i like you?”
tsukishima looks at you for a second. taking in a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets. “yeah.”
you breathe in. “i like you, tsukishima.”
he exhales like that finally settles something. “god, took you long enough,” he mutters.
you blink. “is that seriously your response?”
“well it’s a good one,” he says, stepping closer.
“that’s…yeah, that’s really debatable, kei.”
he huffs. “you’re really still arguing right now?”
“well you started it.”
“that’s not how—” he stops himself, then just shakes his head slightly. “you’re obnoxious.”
you smile a little, still shaky. “well you like me anyway.”
that makes him pause just a second, like you’ve only now spoken it into existence.
“…unfortunately,” he says. but there’s no real bite in it. no defense. just him refusing to make it easy for you.
your chest tightens a little anyway, because now everything feels too real. and that’s when it hits you all at once. all the time before this.
sitting next to him in lectures where you pretended not to care how aware you were of his presence. the first time he showed up at your apartment with coffee without asking. late nights where you studied for five minutes and talked for five hours instead. the way he remembers things you forget telling anyone else.
the way you always, always end up choosing to sit next to him without thinking about it.
your throat feels tight. you blink quickly, looking away before it shows too much.
“don’t,” he says immediately, like he already knows.
you let out a small, unsteady laugh. “i’m not doing anything.”
“you’re about to start crying.”
“i’m not trying to.”
“well don’t.”
“that’s not how crying works, kei.”
he clicks his tongue, but it’s softer than before. less annoyed. more like he doesn’t know what to do with you like this. and that’s when it really sinks in for you.
you almost didn’t say it.
you almost lied. and if you had, you would’ve lost this version of him forever.
your fingers curl slightly into your sleeve, “i really thought i ruined everything,” you admit quietly.
he glances at you then, properly this time, “you didn’t,” he says. a pause. then, like he really can’t help himself, “you just made me listen to you say kageyama’s name for no reason.”
you actually laugh at that, wiping at your face quickly. “i said i was sorry.”
“yeah,” he says. that’s all.
you wait a beat, expecting him to continue. but he doesn’t.
so you tilt your head slightly. “and i corrected myself.”
he finally looks fully at you again, expression flat but not cold. “eventually.”
you groan, dragging a hand over your face.
“oh my god.”
that gets the smallest twitch of a smile from him. and for a second, the tension breaks just enough that it almost feels like before all of this went wrong. almost, but not quite.
because now you’re both standing in the reality of it. no more guessing, no more pretending. just the truth sitting between you.
he likes you, you like him.
and neither of you know what to do with that yet. you take a small step closer without thinking. he does the same.
“kei,” you say quietly.
this time, he doesn’t tease you for it. doesn’t deflect. he just looks at you.
and something in his expression shifts. subtle, but quick. like a decision being made without words.
one step closer. then another.
until there’s barely any space left between you at all and you can feel your heart in your throat now. and you realize, very suddenly, that he’s really, really not joking anymore. neither of you are.
his gaze drops for half a second, just long enough for you to notice, then comes back to your eyes.
this time, when he leans in, there’s no hesitation left to fight against.
his lips press against yours tenderly and you go dizzy in the head. he’s so close you can’t feel your legs anymore. you can taste his mint chapstick and somehow it’s so sweet, so sickeningly sweet, you almost can’t take it. your lips mold together desperately, as if you’re both chasing something you already have.
the kiss doesn’t seem like it should feel this dramatic. it feels like something that was happening the entire time you were talking, and only now caught up to reality.
your hand catches his sleeve without you thinking.
his hand steadies at your waist like he’s making sure you’re actually there. like he’s been afraid you might disappear if he moves too fast.
and for once, there’s no noise in your head. no overthinking. no fear.
just him.
when he pulls back, it’s not far, not really at all. you’re still close enough that your breath keeps catching against his. he exhales slowly, forehead almost brushing yours, and for a second, neither of you speak
then, quietly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “…don’t say kageyama again.”
you let out a breathless laugh, still shaking a little, “i won’t.”
“good.”
a pause.
he looks away for half a second like he’s trying to regain control of his face.
“because i’d actually lose my mind.” he jokes reluctantly.
that finally makes you laugh properly. and this time, he doesn’t pretend he isn’t smiling too.
author’s note . . . first fic yay 😊😊 for my beautiful @laceylovesmatthew !! requests always open.
after bully!osamu, tsukishima, matsukawa, and sakusa bumping into you for the first time in two years, he stands there stupidly. caught in a trance, he couldn’t even muster up any words to say to you.
your face changed since then. eyes full of life, skin glowing even under the shitty campus lights, body confident, and your voice was strong. it took him aback when he realized it was you who confronted him first. back then, he would have walked away and ignored your presence. but this time, he can’t. he’s matured and reflected back on his younger self—he knew he was being an ass during his teenage years. though, he keeps in mind the only thing he can do is move past it.
it’s a split second where he covers up his facade in front of your newly image. taking his hand away from the door that held his key and shoving his hand in his pocket lazily. however, though he may look calm, he could feel his heart thunder with uncertainty. was it a safe call to interact with you?
it’s quiet when he says your name, he acts unsure just to play it safe when asking if he’s correct, and when he finally gets his confirmation—he stands there, his adam’s apple bobbing a wad of saliva down his throat to moisten the awkward walls.
your hands reach for the boxes, keeping 50% of your mind on him, the other half completing your unfinished task. you hum, not even staring back at him as he carefully watched each move you did.
“seems like you changed,” your voice almost came out in mumbles before quickly retrieving back into your dorm. your hand clutching the door knob as the other held into the bottom of the box.
“still, don’t think i’ve forgotten how you treated me,” and just like that, a slam to the door made him realize mistakes never really do go away.
normally, students do not transfer to his college/university. he has all gears running in his head at 100% trying to figure out in all odds that you managed to enter back into his life again. this time, in closer proximity.
in the wing where his dorm was located, the other residents were also aware of the new arrival. eventually, he got his answer from the numerous chattering he heard from every corner of the walls; you had moved to his post-secondary school due to a bridging program. it now makes sense, and it almost feels like this his punishment after all these years.
nobody knew about his past with you, not even his roommates or teammates on the team he played on (aside from matsukawa). it was really only him suffering upon your sudden display of nature. to make matters worse, the last interaction you two had was when you first moved in. he barely saw you around the campus, almost making it seem like you were actively avoiding him so he wouldn’t spot you if he dare try to. the only times where he feels really any close to you is when it’s late at night and he could hear the vivid sounds of your sleepy voice talking to someone over the phone. however, he refuses to get any more curious.
to him, it feels like a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment during the next time he sees you. uncoordinated, unplanned, and accidental.
uncoordinated… unplanned… and… accidental…?
what the fuck were you doing standing in front of his door.
“huh?” it’s comedic when he lets out a genuine gesture of confusion. his shirt is half on, his hair what seems like he had just left a rave, and eyes drowsy thinking that he may be dreaming still.
a pregnant pause fills the both of you for a moment, till eventually you break the silence.
“…you, left your headphones back in your afternoon class,” in your hand, held what was what indeed his black headphones that he wears during studying sessions.
it’s awkward, “right. thanks.”
his hand reached for yours and took the electronic device.
“…but, why’re you the one… giving me my headphones when you don’t have any classes with me?”
“your friend.”
“my friend?”
“your friend,” you repeated again this time visibly more annoyed. “he asked me to give it to you since you don’t have any practice after classes. or whatever that means. he knew i live right beside your dorm. so he thought it’d be easier if he just handed me the headphones.”
“…i see.”
you nodded stoically. once again, awkward silence filled you both. using this time, he took in more of your features, soaking up all the defined areas his memory once forgotten and each time he remembers, it is followed by recollections of tormenting you.
“you’re awfully quiet,” he says your name trying to ease the situation. however, to you, it sounds like he’s just trying to be crude.
a dry echoey laugh erupts from your throat, “is that my fault?”
“never said it was.”
“it seems you can finally own up to your behaviour,” ouch, he could physically feel the weight of your words sink down on his shoulders.
“good to be matured nowadays right?” he shot back now leaning on his door frame. his body alone towered over you but you remained keeping your confidence high.
“that’s true. though it sucks im still waiting for an apology from you.”
like an actual anvil to his face.
“we were teenagers.”
“you still knew what you were doing.”
“it was a build up of mistakes,” he defended.
“a 3 year long mistake during high school?” finally, that shut him up. you scoffed rolling your eyes. “it’s not hard to apologize for being a dick,” his name rolled of your tongue. it felt like someone was pinching his heart.
your eyes then met his with pure anger rising in your pupils.
“just you wait till i start telling others,” his eyes widened unconsciously from the sudden threat. based on the words you chose, he knew you were careful. deconstructing each word for him, almost like you have been desperate to show him this side of you. you crossed your arms and left your hand out to point at him menacingly.
“your image, it will slowly falter. it’ll spread like wild fire, damaging you for all these years you put me through,” he could feel his heart drop each time you added more to the fire. you could practically feel your body shake from built of rage over the years. even with all the months you’ve ignored it, emotions like this can occur on a random tuesday where you’ve just gotten ready for bed.
it hurts to breathe but you push past your limits.
“it’ll start with my classmates, then eventually they’ll pass on the word. it’ll go through everybody at this campus that it will reach your coach—“ you continued rambling, each sentence that left your mouth came out as stronger.
“they’ll find out. and when that happens, it will stay as a reminder—this is all—“ he could feel his body boil.
“your,” you take a step closer.
“—fault.”
then, the rage is put out with one swipe of an arm.
his muscular hand reaches for the collar of your fleece as he aggressively tugs you close to him. pulling you inside his very own dorm and kicking the frame shut before slamming your back against the door making you wince out a heave. the sudden reaction left your body in flight mode, undetermined breathing and eyes wide like a scared prey.
his body towered over yours, hair draping over the top of your forehead as he grabbed your face, smushing ypur cheeks in his hand. his husky cologne endorsed your scent as you tried your best to stay focused on his aroused eyes.
“you let out one more word, and i promise you i’ll break your fucking jaw.” it’s an empty threat though it works like a charm to shut you up. you let out a quiet gasp of air to which he took notice of. he could see your quivering lips and body faltering under his. his heart aches once again.
he lets out a curse, looking away from your figure to compose himself. taking a quiet deep breathe in. he returns his gaze back you, leaning close to you to almost say sorry for his outburst. his breathes get heavier the longer he stares at you. it’s suffocating.
and he doesn’t know why.
suddenly, he lets go of you, walking away not daring to look back. it drained him of all his strength to look you in the eye. in result, he was never that strong to begin with.
his hands instinctively reaching up to tug at his hair as he goes back into his room and loudly shuts the door.
taking this chance, your body that was once frozen turned around and rushed out of his dorm.
pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3
literally had to squeeze this writing in at 1am. i’m on vacation rn but the fanfic grind never stops rahhh
tags for my lovelies <3 @trafalgar-mine @cassoufle
╰┈➤ While Kei Tsukishima studies paleontology in college , he found himself being the middle blocker for Sendai frogs volleyball team. Maybe also falling for his volleyball team new photographer.
.✦ ─ ──────── ୨ৎ ──────── ─ .✦
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ memories featuring: fem!reader slow burn , a lil oc for the characters..huhu, cursing , sunshine x grumpy/opps attract , readers a photographer (has a lil small business ?) readers Akaashi’s sister , lots of silly nonsense , ..Brainrot & more (will label if any tw are in any chaps)
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ authors note: I’m so sorry if this sucks buns forgive me okey.. if you see any grammar / typos etc pretend you didn’t ! </3 all comments , likes & reblogs are deeply appreciated <3
