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shaisuki · 9 months

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bullies whose so smug in making you cry. a insult there and a shove there. mocking you for existing in their lives. who always scowls when they see you. the looks of displeasure when you hang out with others. living your life by acting dumb and innocent at them when they truly know what you are, they think but it contradicts on how you react with everybody. you're so kind and sweet but oblivious at things sometimes that's why he got you pinned under him.

"you like whoring yourself to anyone who gives you attention, huh?"

a pathetic no coming from your lips and they only scoff at you. not believing in what you have to say for yourself. they can see the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes while they squish your cheeks so hard. they're just angry at you for giving your attention to others and not them but don't worry they know how to get all your attention and only them. they'll just scare away who gets too close to you and spread some dumb rumor about you and it's fine. you'll always have them.

"is my poor baby sad? that's fine you have me. after all, no one cares about you."

they always make sure you're stuffed full of their thick, huge cock in your juicy cunt. sometimes their thick fingers and tongue when they're feeling generous, cause a whiny bitch like you is always hungry for some attention.

"you going to cum? work for it."

they always love that when you get whiny and needy for them but they're the one most affected by it. only gets them riled up to always fill you up with their load. watches as your stomach jiggles from how hard they're pounding your fat pussy. plush thighs trembling from the pleasure they're giving to you. holding your wide hips so tight they almost bruised from it. they like putting their hands around your neck too, watch the tears roll into your round cheeks and it makes them cum in the spot. kiss your lips until they're swollen.

can you blame them? they are just bullies who calls you pathetic but can't get enough of you. their poor, dumb baby.

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀, 𝐨𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐒, 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢, 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀, 𝐧𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢, 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍, 𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢, 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐠𝐨, 𝐑𝐈𝐍, 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢, 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐔, 𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚,𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎, 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐮, 𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐉𝐔, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔, 𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈

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yenqa · 8 days

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20191009 I LIKE HER | timeskip!tsukkishima as your boyfriend

♫ – currently playing… mac demarco

warnings – tsukishima is kind of mean, periods, food, mentions of drinking, throwing up/vomiting, jokes of being stabbed in the stomach, profanities

pairing – tsukishima x fem!reader ☆

a/n – hi guys… hope u enjoy !!

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

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makkir0ll · 11 days

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he's kind of starting to regret his descision.

to be honest he isn't sure how he ended up here on top of the comfy rug in your living room. his chest is down on the ground and his arms on the side while he head is resting on the side.

these past two weeks have been gruesome for him, he had been working longer hours than normal and barely getting enough sleep. his whole body felt sore and tense. today he came back home a bit earlier and immediately wraps his arms around you as he complains about how much his body aches. you then begin to massage his shoulder. and you can tell how tense he is.

"holy shit babe that feels so good" he leans into your touch the more you work his muscles. you giggle and give him a kiss on the cheek.

"where else does it hurt?" you ask him as you continue to pepper small kisses on his face and he starts to melt. you hear him mumble that his back has been hurting and you offer to crack it. and maybe in the moment it seemed like a good idea but maybe that was because of the fact that you were spoiling him with kisses.

and thats how he ends up here on the floor with your hands feeling his back to find the tense spots to crack. and he loves you, he really does but he can't help but be scared.

"you know what you're doing right?" he asks, you can hear the crack in his voice because he's nervous.

"yea yea, trust me babe. after this you're going to be thanking me"

"when was the last time you did this?"

as a joke you take a second too long for his personal liking to reply.

"y/n you know i love you right. but so help me god if you break my back, you're paying to hospital bills." he whines. the more time you take the more nervous he gets.

"yea just calm down." you say as you push the heel of your hand into his back feeling the spot. "okay ready..?"

you push your hand a little deeper than it was before and his back cracks and he lets out a groan of relief. the tension in that spot completely. you move your hands down his back finding more spots to crack and you continue your motions down his whole back. after each crack he feels his muscles relax way more.

"okay all done" you say as you move out of his way so he can get up.

"babe..." he starts off, hands coming around your hips to pull you closer, "you are a miracle worker."

"i've been told that a couple of times before" you smile at him, putting your arms around his waist a you look up at him. "now how about i crack your neck?"

"i love you, but i think i've had enough cracking for one day." he's more nervous about you breaking his neck. but he's definitely going to be asking you more often to crack his back.

ATSUMU (he's complaining the whole time and begging you to not ruin his career), tsukishima, iwaizumi 27 atheltic trainer!!!!, kuroo, SUNA, kita, hinata, oikawa, COACH MF UKAI

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smwhererealistic · 4 months

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Can we please have Tsukishima just like everyday messages and maybe one where we prank him by telling him we were hanging out with someone he doesn't like when in reality we were just sleeping that's why we left him on read.

Also one where you steal his hoodie

(this is a lot I'm so sorry if this is rude 💙)

you're not rude, dw!! <3

---

everyday messages with tsukishima

---

#tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima kei x reader #hq tsukki #tsukki #tsukki haikyuu #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu texts #hq tsukishima #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x you

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kentolove · 2 years

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When Tsukishima gets comfortable, he really gets comfortable.

You learned that eight months into your relationship, when Tsukishima walked into the bathroom—with you on the toilet—heading for the sink to brush his teeth.

“Kei!” You nearly scream, clutching your chest to calm yourself down. “I’m using the bathroom here?”

“I can see,” he says, and you groan, throwing your head back in defeat. It really doesn’t help that the mirror is perfectly placed, in a way that allows your Kei to look at you directly in the eye while you sit on the toilet looking as unflattering as ever.

“Then leave? I can’t even piss in peace.”

“Why would I leave?” He puts the toothbrush in his mouth, “I’ve seen worse.”

“It’s impossible to argue with you,” you cry. And you’re right. Tsukishima Kei is insufferable, and he may be too comfortable with you already.

You learn Tsukishima has no sense of personal space soon after.

When he loves someone, his affection comes in odd ways. Sometimes it’s a flick to the forehead, other times it’s a teasing remark, and today, it’s him asking you if he could stay with you while you shower.

It’s not necessary the worst request, but when you consider the fact that he’s asking to sit on a stool and talk to you while you bathe, you find it a bit strange.

“Why would you even want that?” You ask him, all while you get ready for your nighttime shower.

“I just wanna be there.”

You shrug, tell him “sure”, and move on with your day. He sits on the toilet seat as you shower, recounting his day and all the small things that ticked him off.

“I never knew you could talk this much,” you laugh. He’s not necessarily the most quiet partner, but words are often few when it comes to your Kei. He’s more of a listener than anything, telling you how much he likes to hear your voice when you “bitch about everything.” (His words, not yours.)

Once you spend enough time with Tsukishima, though, you learn that he’s not evasive, just caring. He cares for you in ways you’ve never been loved before.

He shows you this when you feel as if you��re looking the Grim Reaper in the eyes, period cramps eating you away, and laying in your shared bed.

“Get up,” he whispers, careful to not yell for he knows how much you hate loud noises.

“Don’t talk to me.”

He knows it’s the cramps talking, so he only responds with a roll of his eyes.

“Okay,” he says, and begins to lift you off the bed. You nearly scream in shock, hitting his chest lightly.

“Put me down!” You kick your legs as he carries you bridal-style towards the bathroom. You know what he’s doing, trying to motivate you to not wallow in your pain, but you’re far too stubborn and in too much pain to care.

“Don’t ignore me!”

“You told me not to talk to you,” he retorts, gently placing you on the closed toilet seat and kneeling in front of you. “I ran a bath for you.”

You stare at him, head tilted to the side, and you wonder how you got so damn lucky.

“You want me to strip you, or?” He speaks up in the midst of your silence.

“Don’t be an ass.”

“That’s what I do best,” he smiles, lifting your hands up to remove your shirt (it’s his, really) from your body.

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adoringhaikyuu · 11 months

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heyyy!

i dont know if you’re still taking requests buuut i couldn’t stop thinking of angry confessions with kageyama and/or tsukishima (you could add anyone else tho)

ANGRY CONFESSIONS

characters: kageyama + tsukishima + (gn!reader)

warnings: none but tsukki's a lil mean lol

notes: the backstory is that they got jealous seeing you with another guy cause i couldn't think of anything else + these can have happy endings i just didn't write them sfdghkj

part one / part two

★ kageyama storms over to you, and practically scolds you, asking you what you were doing talking to that guy. his voice keeps getting louder when you can't see the problem. you're confused and tell him you don't need his permission to talk to anybody and if you wanted to go out on a date you very well could. soon he's red in the face, frustrated saying you can't. you ask him why and he just repeats himself saying you just can't. when you ask him again, he breaks and says 'because i love you!...' his eyes widen and he's breathing hard, just staring at you. he drops his gaze and his voice gets smaller. 'how can you not see that?'

★ tsukishima started blatantly ignoring and avoiding you, and the few times he would grace you with conversation (bc you were talking with yamaguchi), it would be filled with snarkier than usual comments and eye rolls. it isn't until you confront him and ask him what's wrong that he actually looks you in the eye for longer than two seconds without rolling his eyes, but they're narrowed in slits as he sneers at you. 'because you're too blind and stupid to see that if anyone should date you it should be me.' his cheeks are starting to blush and he looks away suddenly. 'no one else would be able to tolerate you anyway.'

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #kageyama #kageyama angst #kageyama mini hc #kageyama hc #tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima angst #tsukishima mini hc #tsukishima hc

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cr4yolaas · 20 days

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for lovers who hesitate — tsukishima kei

synopsis: you find your old academic rival at your new job. every bone in your body says it’s fate, but everything else seems to be stopping you.

notes: puking cuz idk how i feel abt this one. i worked on this all thru out my trip and there was a lot of scrapping and rewriting and deleting the entire thing and rewriting it again, but i think this version is the best i could get it to. i <3 tsukishima kei

tags: fluff → angst → fluff, self-indulgent long fic, reader smokes, reader has trauma w/ their parents, mainly fem reader oriented but gn pronouns used, reader has self-destructive habits, themes of self-doubt from both, tsukishima is probably ooc, slow burn but not really, the most awkward love confession ever, mitski rdr x radiohead tsukishima (sorry), proofread but not really

tsukishima kei, for once, was at a loss for words.

there you stood beneath the bright green foliage, your face marred by the heatwaves of the sun and still all too familiar. he thought, for a moment, that he had the wrong person — you had taken on a rougher appearance, but his body, heart, and soul still recognized you. and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to speak to you.

where had the last decade gone?

he coughed into his fist and walked past you, feigning ignorance to your arrival. when you followed after him with a keycard of your own, he found himself flustered.

no words were exchanged. he was playing the silent game with you, although he quietly hoped you would say something first.

and thus, he continued his shift as usual, with the added oddity of you shadowing him alongside his boss. he just couldn’t find the proper words to place on his tongue, nor the right gestures to show that he did want to talk, he just didn’t know how to.

but truthfully, what was one supposed to say in such a situation?

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

you believed that tsukishima hated you. and you wouldn’t blame him.

when you applied for this job, you had no expectations going into it, save for the hope of a higher salary and a lighter load than your previous job. what you had not anticipated was to stand face to face with the man you swore to hate in your youth.

a sliver of hope embedded itself within you; an overwhelming desire to perhaps refurbish a long lost relationship had taken root. but when he looked away so persistently and spoke not a word to you, that sliver dissipated into meaningless sand.

you continued your work as best as possible. it was a routine job — set up the displays for the day, guide whatever visitors came around, and leave in the afternoon. but when a certain blonde was sneaking glances at you and somehow always in your vicinity, it proved to be easier said than done.

you were too afraid to admit that his presence was refreshing. that, in the midst of the mundane and borderline unhealthy cycle you had formulated within the past handful of years following graduation, he had proven to be an odd factor; he stood as a disruptor to the routine. it was unwelcome. and even still, you craved it and more.

tsukishima kei had always been a constant in your life. you just didn’t expect him to reappear so soon, so suddenly.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it was a wednesday. an uneventful shift had come to an end. and just as you rid yourself of your work attire, a verbal invitation to a work party was sent your way.

the prospect of it was almost laughable. you were under the impression that the body of employees in a museum would be too reserved to host parties such as this, and you were quickly proven otherwise. thus, you accepted instantly.

as soon as you sat down, you regretted it just as quickly.

the moon had just barely begun to hang bright in the sky, and yet the table was already full of drunken coworkers that you hadn’t seen before. loud chatter filled the room, as if this table was the only one in the establishment. it was overbearing.

before you could take even a sip of your drink, you excused yourself under the pretense of needing to use the restroom. instead, you escaped outside, the gentle breeze reestablishing your senses and reeling you back in.

he was also there.

“oh,” he exclaimed softly. his eyes drifted away from yours, the warmth of his cheeks illuminated by the dim lamp above. oh was the first word he had ever spoken to you since graduation. you nearly laughed.

“hello,” you offered quietly, still testing the waters of conversation. your gaze fell to his fingers, slim and cherry-kissed and blemished, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “um… i didn’t expect to see you here…?”

tsukishima laughed lightly at your tone, as if to conceal his own anxieties. “likewise.” he watched as you pulled out a cigarette, the stick meeting your lips like it were more than natural. “did you come all this way to stalk me? or to follow me? after all those years of silence?” he teased, although a tinge of bitterness dripped from his words.

you shook your head aggressively. “no, no, i just…” you bit at your lip for a moment before continuing. “i’m taking a break from my actual job. i needed to wind down before i return.”

tsukishima hummed at your response, evidently oblivious to your lie. he looked at you for a moment too long, his eyes grazing over each alteration and unfamiliar feature. he could not help but admire you in this light — the soft strings of moonlight in contrast with the neon signs glaring against your complexion painted an image he hadn’t seen in ages.

for the first time in a long time, tsukishima kei thought you were unbearably pretty.

what he didn’t catch wind of was your nervous shuffles and your incessant skin-picking as you stood beside him. he didn’t realize that the cigarette was a distractor, a tool to pull you back in. and he failed to acknowledge the stutter in your voice as you spoke to him, for it hadn’t crossed his mind once that you thought he disliked you. not that it would matter to him, anyways.

it’s too soon, he thought to himself. this is stupid, he argued. i’d mess it up if i did anything reckless, he reasoned. all of which were excuses to fight against the overwhelming reality of his vulnerability.

you turned your head away, the extended silence whittling away at whatever confidence you once bore. tsukishima watched with framed eyes and a calculative stare, as if scrutinizing each and every action you took. unbeknownst to you, it was the exact opposite of that.

the soft call of your name from inside the bar pulled your attention away, much to his dismay. he witnessed your frame disappear through the doors, your eyes flitting towards his so quickly he might’ve imagined it.

this was foolish. tsukishima decided that much. but despite his claims of how stupid it was, he was getting reeled in faster than he could pull out.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

despite how hard he tried to display his ignorance, tsukishima was caring at his core.

silent glances exchanged between shifts morphed into small conversations shared whenever possible, as if the tension that previously barred you from interaction had dissipated into nothingness.

at some point, he dropped off a neatly wrapped bento box to your desk, the fabric littered with small dinosaur doodles.

“what is this?” you questioned, an amused lilt to your voice. you failed to notice the way pink rose to his ears, too enamored by the intricate arrangement of veggies and rice.

“don’t think anything of it. i just had leftover food and didn’t want to waste it.” the excuse slipped through his lips as if it were truth, earning him a soft smile from you.

there were butterflies whipping their wings against his ribcage so aggressively they might have bulged out from his skin.

eventually, you invited him out for a walk to the convenience store nearby during your break. and after that, it became routine. with an umbrella in one hand and his wallet in another, tsukishima walked with you down the street to buy onigiri and sandwiches and sometimes a sweet treat nearly every day, and that shared hour became his favorite part of work.

it was silly.

you sat beside him in the booth, your blistered hands carefully unwrapping the plastic from your meal. to your left sat a can of soda. and to your right, he was there.

“i need to stop living off of these,” you complained while motioning towards the onigiri in your grasp.

tsukishima shook his head. “what else would you eat?”

“your bento boxes,” you commented absentmindedly, your bites becoming larger as you neared the center of the rice. “i liked it, when you gave it to me that one time. you should make it again.”

he looked away, his chin resting atop the sweat of his palm. slowly, he turned towards you. “it’s just a bento box. surely you can handle making one.”

“oh, shut up!” you laughed while shoving him lightly. “the fact that you can even make one is shocking. all you have in that head is volleyball and shit.”

“our old test scores say otherwise,” he quipped. the shift in your eyes left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“whatever,” you muttered before leaving to throw out your trash. a pit grew in tsukishima’s stomach.

the blonde mustered the last of his resolve and made an offer. “i’ll teach you how to make one.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

of all the things tsukishima was bracing himself to see, a thinly-walled apartment that was less than well-maintained was the last thing he was prepared for.

you came out from your bedroom in clothes that were far more casual than his, your hair disheveled and your steps uneven. “sorry for the mess,” you uttered while bending down to pick up a hoodie sprawled across the floor, alongside a plastic bag that looked empty. he could only watch in awe.

he placed his bag down on your counter before arranging the ingredients, each brought from his own home. the clatter of your rushed cleaning echoed behind him. and when you finally stood beside the man, he could not contain his grin.

tsukishima decided to hold his tongue. instead, he opted to gently guide your hands through each step, the perspiration collecting on his skin a stark contrast from the rough texture of yours. he realized how little you knew, despite your insistence that you were more than knowledgeable in what you were doing — it showed in your unstable cutting and your hesitance when preparing the pot for boiling — but he refrained from commenting, in fear of disrupting the peace he’d constructed.

on the other hand, you were horrified.

to admit that you were inferior to him in yet another aspect uprooted the envy you had burrowed deep within yourself, and you were terrified of letting it overspill. he was so calm — at least, that was what it looked like — and you’d be damned to ruin it.

mitski’s soft hums reverberated in the background, your shaky chopping filling in the rest of the noise. it was almost satirical — the solemn melodies coated your bare bones and rendered you silent, a strong juxtaposition to the warmth exuded from the closeness of your skin to his. neither of you did anything to interfere, save for an earlier comment from the man questioning your music taste.

(“then what do you listen to?”

“… radiohead.”

“wow. as if that’s any better than mitski.”)

tsukishima found himself smiling at your pride in your creation. messy, yes. but within each ingredient lay a remnant of him, and that was enough.

a stream of small talk emerged into you sitting on the couch together. the music dimmed down to white noise and an old romcom that had only two star ratings played on your TV, the poor quality adding to the humor. your legs leaned against his beneath the blanket. and there was peace.

tsukishima knew what it was. he knew what this would blossom into, and he could only hope and pray he didn’t mess it up in some way. your quiet yet crude commentary disappeared into the tender air, and he remained silent, as if absorbing each syllable that fell from your lips.

it was so quiet, and so vulnerable, and so delicate that he felt like he was going to explode.

he didn’t question it when your head fell onto his shoulder. he didn’t make fun of you when your colorful reviews on each scene turned into sleepy ramblings. and he didn’t say a word when you dozed off against him, your whole body against his.

instead, he looked around. he took note of the dust collecting on the cabinets, the water marks on the windows, the clothes and food and plastic scattered all over your living room, the dead plant on the shelf, and the half-empty pack of cigarettes sitting on the arm of the couch. it was all a far, far cry from the cleanliness and stability of his own home, and yet, he thought to himself, this is so like them. and he thought, i could live in here, if it were with them. and again, he thought, this could be a home.

tsukishima kei was of the belief that he did not have a type. but as he observed your house and reflected on its singular (?) inhabitant, he figured that this was his type. his type was your quiet laughs and your sharp remarks and your wrinkled clothes and the scent of cigarettes that always seemed to cling to you. his type was you.

he exchanged one last glance to your sleeping figure before getting up and leaving you to rest. not without wrapping up your lunch for tomorrow, and not without a small smile on his lips.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

hell came to you on a thursday morning — the day following whatever had happened between you and tsukishima. you hadn’t put on your uniform just yet, and your belongings sat outside of your locker.

your boss scrambled into the office, his brows furrowed and his larger hands closing the door as quickly as he could without slamming it. the sweat that collected between his wrinkles shined beneath the dim lights. his breaths were haggard and rushed and shallow.

for the first time in a long time, you felt fear.

“there’s people who want to talk to you outside,” he whispered. “they want to talk to you now.”

there was no one else in the building. no one other than you, your boss, and the people who were so adamant on speaking to you.

so why was it so loud as soon as you stepped out?

the eyes of your mother came into your vision first. then, the stare of your father. and finally, their faces blended into one large picture that made sense.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

withered hands slammed against the table. you watched the papers and the dinosaur trinkets rattle. “that’s no way to speak to your parents.” you could feel it — the air seeping out of your lungs, depriving you of breath; the trembling in your palms; the cloudiness in your peripherals. you could hear them, but you couldn’t hear them. at some point, their vocabulary was solely financial, and at another point, it grew cruel and violent, akin to wild dogs gnawing away at your skin. you didn’t know where it was going. the hastened footsteps of an unidentifiable coworker neared, and the shaky breaths of your boss behind the door grew louder and louder.

you needed to leave.

your feet led you away before your mind could. the yelling softened, until finally, the only sound was the chirp of birds and the whirring of cars.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t see you for a week. he didn’t hear any mention of your name, didn’t find your face in a crowd, didn’t feel the vibrations of your voice against his chest. you had disappeared, and no one told him why. it wasn’t until your name didn’t show up on the schedule that something clicked.

it was cruel. you were cruel, he decided.

tadashi sat on the couch while his roommate leaned against the counter. the hum of the air conditioning blinded the blonde’s senses.

“i don’t fucking know what i did,” tsukishima groaned into his palms for the twentieth time that night. “they just left. they quit and i can’t even contact them because i was stupid enough to not ask for their number or email or anything. i don’t- i don’t fucking know, ‘dashi, i don’t.”

“i’m sure they had some good reason,” his friend attempted. “i don’t think they’d do that if it weren’t within some sensible limit. it was fucked, yeah, but… i don’t know. i think they’ll come back when the time is right.”

it was tiring. it was tiring to be left alone not just once, but twice. and it was tiring to have it hurt so much more the second time.

tsukishima ran a hand through his hair. “it’s so stupid.” another groan spilled from his tongue. “i’m so fucking tired of this.”

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

this was just about the fourth job you had applied for.

the museum could no longer be a part of your routine — instead, it morphed into loud nights and bustling men and the clinking of glass; it emerged from quiet and gentle tours around dinosaur exhibits to noisy cheers and yelling and the more-than-occasional bottle thrown at your head; it turned into pure, devastating loneliness.

it was compact. it was suffocating. it was overwhelming. it was everything the museum was not. but you could not return there, no matter how much you ached for it.

you were avoiding him. avoiding everyone.

a gentle nudge from a blurred face reminded you that your shift was over for the night, coupled with an apology for the gash that formed on your head from another drunken man who had no outlet for his anger other than you. with heavy steps, you trudged back home, thankful for the week’s pay and the free food and drinks.

it was quiet.

the lights were off, and the LED numbers on the microwave read way past midnight. a dull pounding resided in your chest.

just the other day, it was so vibrant. you were alive, and so was he, and it was going well. but it was wrong. you realized that much when your parents came to remind you, and you realized it again as you quit the same day.

the thumping in your chest spread to your head, and your back met the wall with a force that was sure to upset your neighbors. carefully, daintily, you slid down, your body reaching the floor gently.

you missed him. but it was wrong.

that night, for the first time in a long while, you cried.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tucked away in a small alley in sendai resided an establishment with only three tables and a bar that was worn down from years of use. and behind it, tsukishima found you.

he was only out for a walk. at least, that was what it was until his feet brought him elsewhere and he stood face-to-face with the most suspicious of buildings. and when he saw you, it felt as if all the anger and guilt and distress that riddled his bones and flesh and blood withered away, as if it hadn’t coalesced within his veins over the past month.

before you could hide, his hand snaked around your wrist, his touch light yet desperate. “can we talk?”

talking entailed bringing him back to your apartment. and by extension, it included him witnessing your house somehow being worse than before.

tsukishima found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and you found yourself sprawled across said couch. he picked at the blisters on his fingers before quietly asking, “why did you do that?”

he could hear your nervous habits — the shifting, the fidgeting, the harsh lip biting. “i don’t know.”

“bullshit,” he muttered under his breath.

you turned over onto your side to face his back. “my parents found me,” you explained meekly. improper guidance leads to destructive tendencies. tsukishima kei, in his high school years, was deemed your only obstacle to complete succession — always a few points ahead, a few questions ahead, a few steps ahead — and your poor influence from youth only fueled such a fire. and so, you felt that it was reasonable to loathe him. your judgement was clouded beyond repair.

tsukishima listened. he listened to every detail, every portion of your retelling of each segment of your childhood, and your teen years, and your silly hatred for him. he listened to you talk about what you did after graduation — how you got into a good university but dropped out and hopped between a multitude of jobs (thus proving your claim at the work party to be a lie), and how you were constantly escaping from both the stress and your parents.

he listened so intently that it was overbearing. you didn’t tell him that. instead, you talked and talked and talked until you sculpted him into someone who knew your entire life, as if he were there from the beginning.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered through stubborn tears. you hated it — how exposing it was, how you had practically dumped everything onto him in one go, how you couldn’t help but beg for forgiveness in the end. most of all, you hated how easily he gave you his forgiveness.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

tsukishima didn’t leave your house at all that week. you found no energy to complain.

in the morning, you’d find him cleaning whatever disaster you left behind, whether it was the pile of laundry on your bed or the collection of full trash bags next to the front door or the food (or rather, the lack thereof) in your fridge. he was silent all the while, and that hurt more than any berating he could have done.

“why are you still here?” you asked him one night. you had finally moved from the couch to the bed, and tsukishima couldn’t be any prouder. (any movement at all was enough to be proud of, he felt). “you shouldn’t want to be here.”

you watched him heave a heavy breath as his shoulders drooped. “because i want you,” he admitted, his voice unmistakably tender and soft and ridden with a youthfulness that he unearthed from deep within himself. “i want to be with you and i want you to be happy and i just want us to be happy together, for once.”

he spoke of his affections so fluently, as if he were born to share them with you. and still, every bone in your body was whispering otherwise.

even so, tsukishima promised that he would be willing to wait. even if it meant watching you down an unreasonable amount of beer at an unreasonable hour.

he promised to sit through it all with you, even if it meant listening to you call his name out in long, drawn-out tones. even if it meant hearing you confess your long-harbored affection for him. even if it meant hearing you say that you never told him, not even in high school, because you felt like you didn’t deserve to tell him.

tsukishima didn’t understand.

he failed to comprehend how you didn’t feel deserving, when his whole body, mind, and soul was bound to you; when, in the depths of the night, he’d burn pink in the night at the mere thought of you; when he was so uncharacteristically smitten for you. he didn’t get it. he didn’t think he ever would.

not that he said anything about it — at least, not in that moment. not when you were inexplicably drunk, to the point where you couldn’t move a limb without tumbling over.

but, without a doubt, he went to bed with a stupid grin and a berry-kissed face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

it took another couple of weeks before tsukishima would see you at work again. you entered through the doors as if you never left, and he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be excited or neutral or anything else, because his guts only knew tenderness with you at that point — all the fake ignorance and stubbornness and denial had been cast aside.

you basked in a shared silence in the locker room, until you finally admitted that you were, in fact, healing. to some degree, at least. you asked him to come over again under the pretense of seeing how clean your house was. you detailed every segment of your life, from when he last saw you to your entrance into the museum, including how you made yourself breakfast for the first time in forever and how you drank a cup of water almost every day. and he was so overwhelmingly proud, so much so that it spilled over and he couldn’t contain himself.

“i love you,” he blurted out, his rushed admission cutting off your rambling. you whipped your head towards him, but he was looking everywhere except for you.

“what?” you exclaimed.

“i said i love you. i’m in love with you. what don’t you get?”

your jaw hung open, just like that of a fish. “wait- what the fuck?” much to his amusement, you jumped up and began pacing around the room. “i like- well, i guess, love,” you paused, the vocabulary uncomfortable on your teeth. “you too, but like- what the fuck? who told you that?”

“you did.”

“what?”

tsukishima kei was laughing. he was laughing at you, and yet, you weren’t as angry as you expected to be. he was laughing, and all you could do was relish in the noise.

“so,” he hummed delightfully, an amused smirk on his lips. “am i still coming over?”

you (begrudgingly) agreed. again, he laughed — this time, at the heat rising to your face.

𝜗𝜚 ｡ ˚.

through the cracks between your blinds, silk strands of sunlight crawled through, a soft reminder of the morning. beside you, a mountain of warmth lay, with his glasses still on his face and his hoodie misshapen on his body.

tsukishima was always the first to rise. he would wait for your eyes to flit open gently before getting up and making breakfast, despite your protests that your food was probably better than his. he never listened.

the splatter of coffee into your cup served as the only noise in the room, save for the dull noise of the morning news on the TV and the cars passing by outside the window. you watched intently as the blonde set up the table, his lip drawn in a tight line but his eyes shimmering with contentment. “eat up,” he spoke quietly as he took a seat in front of you.

tsukishima kei was, by no means, a cruel person. he was just a little rough on the edges and occasionally didn’t quite know how to say things without being mean. but as he sat with you, eating breakfast made by him in your shared apartment; as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your forehead before leaving to change, ignoring your groans about the remnants of syrup on his lips; as he drove you to work as the sun settled in the sky; you realized he was simply a man in love.

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schelamski · 4 months

Text

Things Haikyuu Boys would do in a relationship (pt. 4)

-Ushijima, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Bokuto, Osamu

Part 1: Sakusa, Kita, Asahi, Hinata, Tendo

Part 2: Nishinoya, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Yaku

Part 3: Kenma, Kageyama, Terushima, Akaashi, Atsumu

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Ushijima Wakatoshi: Helping you put a necklace on

Wakatoshi likes to spoil his girlfriend, especially on your birthday. Right now you are struggling to put on the beautiful necklace that he gifted you, special to you because of the engraving on the back. “Toshi can you help me?” you ask him and his hands are immediately on your neck, closing the necklace around it. He is looking at you in the mirror while letting his hands linger a little longer than necessary on your nape before putting your hair back in place and stretching out his hand to take you to the dinner reservation he made to celebrate your special day.

Tsukishima Kei: Deep convos about random shit

Normally he doesn’t talk that much and especially not over something so seemingly unimportant but with you he is conversing without any snarky remarks or hesitation. Kei could talk for days about the deeper meaning of a recent book you two happen to have read, a theory regarding his most beloved fossils or everything else that’s running through his head. You always admire his way of thinking and you are happy each time he gives you insight on what’s happening in this smart head of his. The way you are listening and talking to him never fails to make him want to shut up again and just kiss you, after all he is better at showing his emotions through actions than words.

Oikawa Tooru: Having a special song

It was the song that was playing in the small copy shop where you were waiting to receive your printed pictures when you met Tooru. He wanted to print out some pictures to craft a photo album for his nephew when he noticed you humming the melody of the song absently. On your third date in a mini golf arena the song started playing again and since then it’s been the song to which you have the best memories. If he ever gets the chance to marry you, he wants this song to play during your first dance.

Bokuto Koutaro: Randomly looking at each other and saying, “I love you so much”

Currently you were suffocated with the weight of your boyfriend who was laying on top of you but you wouldn’t be able to catch a breath anyway because suddenly he told you that he loved you. That was the first time he told you and you weren’t able to say it back until he moved to look at you because you’ve been silent for too long. After that it happened at the weirdest times. For example, when Kou asked you which type of rice to bring or when he walked in on you sitting on the toilet or even in front of all of his team when you came to watch the MSBY team practice. After hearing it some more in unexpected situations you even started to learn to say it back to him in time.

Miya Osamu: Hugging the back of them and putting your face on their shoulder

There is no better feeling after a long exhausting day than coming home to find Samu standing in front of the stove working on some meal for you to eat. You make your way into the kitchen and collapse against his broad back while leaning your face on his shoulder, humming in appreciation. You follow him around the kitchen like this until he leads you to the table and places a plate of incredibly good smelling food in front of you and him. Over dinner you ramble to him about your day during which he reminds you with a soft smile to eat before the food gets cold. After the dinner you two spend the rest of the evening cuddling on the sofa, both enjoying the soothing warmth of each other’s bodies.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

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thania-keiji-gf · 1 year

Text

the type of boyfriend who likes reading a book but you're not. you are a cuddle bugs-lazy gf and he's smartass-introvert bf. it's perfect combination because most of the time you two will spended together by cuddling—ah i mean, you cuddling him while he reading book seriously. sometimes you also read with him, with head on his shoulder and your tiny hands also holding the page of books to avoid he turn the page before you finished reading previous page. cute.

"hey, i haven't finished reading the last paragraf yet :< hold on, for a second."

-> TSUKISHIMA, Kita, AKAASHI, Ushijima, SHIRABU, Sugawara, KUNIMI, OIKAWA, Iwaizumi

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