Tumgik
#goshiki x reader fluff
chimielie · 1 year
Text
there are many benefits to being a marine biologist
summary: Goshiki x F!Reader. Ponyo!AU. one part fairytale, one part growing up, one part love language exploration. you fall in love with a human boy and then move mountains to find him again.
word count: 8.7k
cw: nothing. gets better as it progresses imo
a/n: i started writing this maybe two years ago for a contest held by two users who are now both inactive i think? the outline for this planned for like two more acts, but i thought it should stop rotting in the drafts and i like it as is now. i do have quite a lot of worldbuilding not in the fic (mostly regarding goshiki's family, who i named after the original ponyo characters lol) so please, if you happen to read this and have questions about this little story that's been living in my head, feel free to ask :)
The day before he finds you, it storms like the world is going to end.
Seawater washes into the road as the sea swells in thick knots, rising and never quite falling as far as it should. Blooms of white—foam and algae and debris, and drowned souls if folklore was to be believed—swirl on the surface, which waits to break against the cliffs until the wave inflates to grotesque proportions, as though it’s a fist hammering against a wall. The wind tries to match the hysteric sea’s beat, and comes screaming in from the horizon, wrapping around whatever it finds in its path if it cannot blow through it and squeezing like a python. With it blows in the fog, until the atmosphere brings a river of milk, writhing over the pine islands so they become black spikes against which the ocean hammers.
Tsutomu stands against the back door of his home on the cliff, hands pressed to the glass, careful not to let his breath obscure his vision any further than the mist already was. Even inside the house—where the air is still warm, where the wind can’t creep in—he can hear the crash of waves and the shriek of the typhoon, even if they’re reduced to a low-crooning song punctuated by the steady rhythm of his mother’s voice.
“Transmitting from JA4LL. JA4LL. Come in, Koichi. This is Risa and Tsutomu.”
She’s been speaking steadily into the microphone for a few minutes already, and Tsutomu pads over to press his cheek into her side, fists his hands into her shirt while she pats him on the head. When the headset crackles to life, he jumps and she doesn’t. His parents’ voices wash over him warmly, and he relaxes, hoping the weather will calm soon so they can all go to Tashirojima together.
Sound asleep in a bubble deep beneath the sea, you don’t even know that there’s a storm on the surface.
“Wake up, girls.” You wake when your father speaks to you, swim eagerly to the border of filmy water and press your nose to it in a sort of nuzzling good morning kiss. “I—yes, good morning, hello—I said I’d take you all to work with me today, if you’d like—stop pressing on the bubble, you’ll pop it!”
You do happy flips when you’re let out of the little aquarium, linger at the back of the school of your sisters as your father quickly becomes engrossed in his work. He’s often distracted and always scatterbrained, but centuries of experience have made him an expert at marine wizardry. There’s little he loves more than his work, except perhaps your family, but he’s unfamiliar with the care and keeping of young goldfish and your mother is away right now.
This is how you slip away: with discretion from your sisters, distraction from your father, and a rush of excitement you’ve felt almost never in your entire life. It’s not that you don’t love your family, that you want to run away; it’s just that your sisters are all still babies, freshly hatched, and you get bored in the little bubble, always having to watch your father work and never getting to do anything. There’s no room for anxiety in your fish-body as you swim towards the surface, wriggling your fins frantically and buoying yourself with upward currents whenever possible. 
The first sight of sunlight streaming through the aqua is mesmerizing, and you kick doubly hard for the remainder of the journey. 
The surface is the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen. Exhausted from the swim, you flop onto your back on top of a passing jellyfish and stare in wonder at the coastline. There’s a road, and little metal vehicles crossing it, and houses tucked into every crevice in the hills. There are jagged cliffs that look like they were hewn in half by some godly hand (one of your uncles, maybe). And on top of the tallest cliff, there’s a little house, so small you can hardly see it, yellow and red and white, and you find yourself fascinated by it.
When he wakes, Tsutomu finds himself in bed, his eyes stuck together with leftover sleep. He remembers, just barely, being carried by his mother’s strong arms to his room, the press of her lips to his forehead. It’s not an unusual occurrence, so he starts his day as usual. Breakfast is leftovers from the fridge, his mother is still half-asleep sipping coffee at the breakfast table (she’s always groggier after a late night up speaking to his father), and he walks down the path to the beach, carefully balancing his favorite toy—a beach ball light enough for him to carry and shaped like a volleyball—in his arms. 
It’s clear today, almost like there was never a storm at all. The sky is a cheerful blue dotted with puffy white clouds, the temperature warm enough to only require a t-shirt, not cold enough to make him uncomfortable. The sun shines down on the beach with a smile, the morning light nearly shining a spotlight on the red lump just above the waterline.
“Eh?” Tsutomu says to himself, walking closer and struggling to peer past the bulge of his volleyball. He sets it down carefully, stopping it from rolling away with his foot, and bends at the waist to look closely at you.
You stare, eyes bulging, back up at him. A little boy, the likes of which you’ve never seen before, fringe falling into his face, is the most magical thing you’ve ever seen.
“A goldfish!” He declares triumphantly as he identifies you. “Hello, Miss Goldfish.”
You flap a fin at him as best you can. He giggles and scoops you up in both hands, wading into the water and holding you just beneath the surface so you won’t dry out. You spin in his hands, and nuzzle his chubby palm. 
“Tsutomu!” Someone calls from above. “Time to go!”
“That’s my mom,” Tsutomu says to you. “We’re going to work at the senior center. Well, she’s going to work, and I get to go to school right next to there, ‘cause I’m five years old.” He adopts a wise expression. Five is the oldest he’s ever been, and it feels very big. You splash. Me too! Me too! “It was nice to meet you, Miss Fish. My name is Tsutomu. I hope I see you again. Bye bye!”
He lets go of you gently, and turns to find that his ball has rolled into the water, a little too deep for him to reach without soaking his clothes. You, still watching the curious human boy, see the frown on his face, the tremble of his lips and watery eyes, and dart off quickly. When he looks down, you’re gone. He stands on the sand in front of the ball, watching it float further away, listening to his mother’s increasingly aggravated shouting for him to come up from the beach, and feels stuck with the tide of unhappiness rising in him. He reaches up with one fist to wipe at his watering eyes.
Shock overwhelms him when a stream of water hits the ball, pushing it against the current, intermittent splash carrying it all the way back to shore. His eyes stop watering from the pure amazement of it all as he watches a little red spark flash with every spurt of water, and he has to shake himself before wading back in to grab it.
“Thank you, Miss Goldfish,” he cheers when he finally lifts the ball clear of the surf. “You’re amazing!”
There’s nothing but pure childish admiration in the words, which makes you as happy as he is. You like this boy! He thinks you’re amazing!
You flip in the air, coming down with a splash that sends droplets of saltwater all the way to Tsutomu, who shields his face and twists his whole torso away with shrieking laughter. 
“Tsutomu!” You say happily. He untwists to look at you, bobbing in the water. 
“You said my name! You really are amazing!”
“Tsutomu!” You cheer, and then again for good measure.
“Tsutomu!” His mother roars, coming into view on the beach, and her ferocious tone hardly seems to dent his mood. 
“I have to go now. Thank you a lot, Miss Goldfish,” he waves at you and begins walking back to his mother, who’s standing with her hands on her hips and her lips set in a scowl.
“Tsutomu!” You say in farewell, and begin the swim back home.
“Mom, I made a friend! I saw a goldfish, and she talks, too. She said my name! Isn’t that so cool?” Tsutomu bounces up to his mother with his fists clenched and raised in the air, as though he’s declaring victory, and her irritation dissipates almost immediately. She laughs and swings him up onto her shoulders.
“That is cool, but we’re going to be late. Think I can drive over before they open the drawbridge?”
You’re lucky your father doesn’t notice and you know it. For the rest of the month, you listen attentively as he explains, half-mumbled and face pressed up against a blackboard, the things he believes children ought to know: potionmaking, mostly, the way that those potions affect the environment, and the filthiness of humans. You try your best to be good, but you file as much information about magic away as you can and know in the deepest depths of your heart that it’s so you can see Tsutomu again.
You sneak away again, maybe every month, and rarely have to wait longer than a few hours for Tsutomu to come rushing down the path from his house, huge smile on his face, shedding his backpack and shoes. During low tide, he can reach what becomes a tide pool, and often he shows you things from his day-to-day life. You love hearing him talk, sometimes practicing human speech by following along with his words. He gives you a name, better than the one your father calls you, you think, shaping it in your mouth. While you watch with great interest, you never bring him anything.
You are a fish, after all.
As the years pass, your visits to the surface become more infrequent. You worry about your human-hating father catching you, and your education has intensified as you age. Your little sisters are starting to grow up and, though they’re still captivated by stories of your Tsutomu, you worry about fostering jealousy of the dry world in them. One daughter your father may not notice missing for a day, but where one of your sisters go, almost all the rest will follow. 
“What does Y/N mean?” You ask innocently one day, when the two of you are eight years old. You bob in the water, and he sits on a rock, the surf spraying up around him but never reaching high enough to soak him.
“Mm,” he says, looking down and kicking at a pebble. “Beloved.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know,” his grin is childish, and the effect is only lightly diminished by the way he’s clearly struggling to maintain eye contact with you. You splash him, and he shrieks and falls into the water. Both of you come up giggling. Whatever the true meaning of his name for you, you know that whenever he says it, that’s what he means; and that is all that matters.
Although he waits patiently for you for many years, Tsutomu tells you one day with a serious face that he’s going to be going to school further away, in Sendai, and will have less time to spend watching out for you. You have a year left before this happens, he says, so your visits resume a near monthly routine. Sometimes, you simply spend hours after he’s left staring at the house on the cliff and imagining living there with Tsutomu and loving him the way he tells you his mom and dad love each other.
When he leaves for school, crying a little while you blink up at him, you absorb yourself in your studies. When you really, really miss him, you swim up to the surface and remind yourself that someday, you’ll be old and strong enough to live up there with Tsutomu. The next time he sees you, he’s twelve years old. People call him Goshiki-kun, not Tsutomu-chan, and his voice cracks when he speaks. On the train ride home from school, he worries that you’ll laugh at him, like his peers do, that the way he’ll surely tear up upon seeing you is unmanly.
It’s July, the month of salt-making rituals, and this becomes the marker of your visits to Tsutomu. To his immense relief, you still call him by his first name, you don’t laugh when his voice breaks, you throw your whole body at him to smack his cheek like you’re trying to hug him with your fins. You missed him as much as he missed you, he can tell, and the both of you spend hours catching up.  You get two more years before disaster strikes.
The day you’re due to visit the surface, it storms again. You know what lightning is, now, know the acrid scent of sky-fire splitting the air, the brutal strength of riptides and currents. When you break into the air, you find that a gray mist lingers over the bay and the mood of the few people you see appears dismal. When you look up to Tsutomu’s house and see that it shines as cheerfully yellow as always, that yellow and red seems to creep into your bones until you feel sure that everything is alright. This is a kind of magic your father has not yet taught you.
This has always been your secret, safe harbor. You don’t expect anything to go wrong here—not when you’re accustomed to submarine chemical vents and shining anglerfish in the deep blue depths. Here it has always seemed safe, calm, kind.
You learn today why your father despises his former kin so much.
There’s silt in the water, probably stirred up by the storm that took away the cheeriness of the sky. One fish swims by you, its eyes bulging frantically. Then another, and another. It’s only when an entire school passes in the same direction that you hear the ship coming closer and realize that you should probably be heading that way yourself.
You’re too late, and so are the rest of them—something huge, bigger than the mouth of a whale, you think it must be, traps you, pressing you together with sifting mud and other scales and glass, like your father’s bottles. You try to move your tail and push yourself out, but you’re packed so tightly in with a million others doing the same that the action is impossible. 
You’re starting to panic.
Then, the boat attached to the net you’re in swings around, taking you and everyone else with it, and you find yourself face to face with a glass jar. Worse, you find yourself slowly being pushed into it by the sheer unluckiness of your position and the crush of animals trying to escape the churning mud and human garbage.
You push more frantically than before, thrashing your entire body violently.
“No, no, no, no!” You wail, the words bubbling in the water. Then you fall through a gap in the net.
Unable to right yourself in time, you find yourself stuck halfway into the jar, and your wriggling only makes it worse.
You can’t—you can’t breathe. This was a mistake. You’re so scared.
You have to take the last resort. You send up a prayer to your mother—please, don’t let him be too angry—and send out a spell with the last bit of energy you have. A signal that will ripple all the way to your father.
You run out of oxygen, and everything goes black.
Tsutomu has been waiting a long time by the beach. He got up early to watch the sunrise, carrying a thermos of hot tea with him as he sat by the water and wondered what your life was like through the months you don’t see him. As he wakes more fully and the air starts to warm (though not by much) he walks alongside the waterline, testing how far he could go in without getting the hem of his pants wet, how long his toes could stand immersion in the cold seawater. He ponders why you keep visiting him, year after year, bringing him good luck and sunny skies.
You’re more to him than a symbol, though; you’re amazing.
As he settles himself, he starts to walk back to the tidepools, hoping you’ll be there. He knows it’s a little early for your visit, but you’re unpredictable; besides, he’s sure you care about your weird human friend as much as he cares about his fishy one.
Near the stairs, something rolls on the sand, flashing gold. Tsutomu squints at it, then picks up his pace. Shit, shit, is that—
It is. He picks up the jar, lips pressing into a pout when he sees that you’re unmoving. He runs up the steps to his home, taking them two at a time, all the while talking to you like you can hear him through the glass barrier.
He collects a bucket and stands next to the garden hose, trying to shake you out of your jar. He thinks that it would require too much force than would be safe to get you out, but you’re clearly suffocating in there. He squats on his heels, turning the jar over in his hands and wracking his brain for a solution.
“Tsutomu, you’re gonna be late for practice!” His mom rounds the corner, startling him, and he drops you. “Tsutomu—what was that?”
You’re out of the jar, but now you’re lying in pieces of shattered glass. Eyes round in distress, Tsutomu snatches you up and plops you into the full bucket of water.
“Nothing,” he says, voice suspiciously shaky.
“Okay, well, we’ve gotta go, so get in the car now.” She jerks her thumb towards the vehicle. He nods and peeks into your bucket. You stare up at him, as alert as ever, and he breathes a sigh of relief. 
In the car, you swim happily in circles, raising your head out of the bucket to peer out the window.
“What’s in the bucket?” His mom says with interest, and he presses a hand over the opening of the bucket, trying not to giggle as you nuzzle his palm. 
“It’s for a group science project—Mom, watch out, you’re gonna make it spill!” She side-eyes him, knowing her son has never been so conscientious of a school project or of his own messes before, but lets it slide. There’s no point in prying when there are only so many options to be found on the beach. The worst that can happen is that he lightly traumatizes some sea creature, and she doubts that Tsutomu’s conscience and childhood obsession with marine life could let him do that. Besides, she smiles to herself. The sea is basically in his blood.
Tsutomu rushes out of the car, managing only a “Thanks-Mom-love-you-goodbye!” before he’s dashing to the gym, gaze bouncing between your bucket and the ground to avoid tripping so fast watching his eyes makes you dizzy.
He sets you down on the bench closest to the court.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He whispers, picking you up to make sure there’s no glass embedded in your skin. 
“I’m okay!” You beam up at him. “Tsutomu rescued me!” 
He smiles at that, blushing faintly, pretty eyes squinting, and you pop out of the water to splash him lightly.
“Hey, I have to practice in this,” he frowns.
“Sorry,” you say, abashed, but he shoots you a small smile and you know it’s alright.
Listening to Tsutomu explain volleyball is entirely different from watching him play it. You didn’t really understand it when he spoke, before, but now you understand the difference between a fishing net and a volleyball one, as well as other crucial aspects of the game. There’s a lot of yelling, and squeaking, and it’s a little hard to see from inside your bucket, but you don’t mind. You bob up every so often, trying to find Tsutomu on the court, though it’s hard when he moves around so much.
At one point, he jumps up and slams down the ball in what’s clearly a perfect line even to the untrained eye. Around him, his teammates burst into cheers (“Nice going, bowlcut!) and you get so excited you mimic them, whooping and doing a flip in the air.
“Eh? What was that?” Someone you can’t see says, and then Tsutomu is there, grinning widely at you from above, eyes watering slightly.
“Oi, Goshiki,” a boy with hair as red as your scales slides an arm around him. “What’s this you’ve got?”
Tsutomu opens his mouth, but you beat him to it, using the name he gave you without a second thought.
“Huh? Wow, you have a smart goldfish! Reon, come check out Goshiki’s goldfish!”
Reon simply looks at you and says, “Cool.”
“Be nicer!” The redhead says, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. “She can talk!”
“I can talk!” You echo. Reon repeats cool, unfazed.
“What are we looking at, Tendō?” A boy whose shirt reads Yamagata slows his jogging to a stop, one hand running through his hair as he looks at the red bucket.
“This is Y/N,” Tsutomu says. “I found her on the beach.”
“Are you going to eat that?” A voice deeper than the others makes you poke your head further out of the water than before. It’s a boy like the others, with greenish hair and a huge stature. He reminds you, oddly, of your mother. Big and bea-uti-ful!
“No!” Tsutomu yelps. “No, we won’t! Ushijima-senpai, sir,” he adds, voice calming to a lower pitch as he does.
“Are you sure?” Asks Tendō, a sly expression crossing his face. Tsutomu pushes him away hastily and steps protectively in front of you. 
“Yes! I mean no! I mean—”
“Alright,” Ushijima-senpai says slowly. “Welcome to our practice, then. I hope you enjoy watching volleyball.”
“Enjoy!” You do another flip. “Watching Ushijima-senpai!”
“Okay—” Tsutomu says, picking up your bucket, looking around as he tries to find his way out of the circle of boys.
“What’s wrong with your fish?” A boy with long bangs and pointy features grabs the bucket and peers at you. You don’t like this pointy human. “Why is it talking?”
You say nothing, hollowing your cheeks in preparation to spit at him.
“Give her back,” Tsutomu narrows his eyes. “Careful, Shirabu.”
“Is no one else concerned about the talking goldfish?” Shirabu looks around at his upperclassmen. “What the fuck, Goshiki?”
“He’s right,” Ushijima says thoughtfully. “The fish could be a spy. For Karasuno, perhaps.”
“What?” Shirabu’s outraged yell is shortly cut off by Tsutomu’s fearful-yet-determined denial that you would ever do such a thing to him or to Shiratorizawa.
A deep sigh, sounding somewhat like it’s exhaling the speaker’s entire soul, interrupts them both.
“Can we please stop staring at Goshiki’s pet and get back to practice?” A boy with ash blond hair says, and immediately, a few of the others nod and disperse.
“She’s not a pet,” Ushijima says, while Tsutomu splutters incoherently. “Or sushi. She’s a friend of Goshiki. But you’re right, we should be practicing.”
“T-thank you, Ushijima,” Tsutomu says haltingly, eyes shining in admiration. “I really appreciate it!” The captain only needs to look back at him, his face unsmiling but not at all unfriendly, for him to continue. “And I apologize for distracting everyone, I’ll get back to work now! Thank you!”
The rest of practice goes smoothly, although you get a few lingering stares and an odd few minutes of interrogation from Shirabu while they’re on their break. He tries to explain that you can talk, and this is bad, and it’s a demon, to an old man with white hair, who merely hums when he looks at you and tells him to do an extra fifteen laps as a punishment for talking nonsense about magical goldfish.
Once the games have all finished and Goshiki’s changed into street clothing, though, something horrible happens. He’s picking you up, ready to transport you to his mother’s workplace so you can drive home, but then someone taps him on the shoulder. He startles, water sloshing over the sides of the bucket, and lifts up the bucket to his chest to prevent any further instability.
“Goshiki-kun,” a girl human says. “Could I speak to you outside?”
“Ouuuu,” you hear Tendō’s voice from across the gym. “Little bowl cut is receiving a confession?”
“Uh, um, yes, you can,” he says, and when you turn his cheeks are scarlet. “Let me just pack up the rest of my things, and I’ll m-meet you out there.”
“Sounds good!” She says, and you don’t like the cheery note of her voice or the way she brushes her hand against his bicep. You make a face up at Tsutomu, but he doesn’t seem to notice, lost in his own head.
You swim all the way to the bottom of the bucket, only to feel him poking you not a minute later.
“Don’t be grumpy,” he says. “Please? It’ll be just a second.”
You flap a fin at him and make an enthusiastic noise.
It is not, in fact, a second. You wait for an eternity (and you know about eternities) for the girl to stop stuttering her way through telling Tsutomu that she thinks he’s really smart, and she likes his bowl cut, and you can just see the word amazing forming on her lips before she says it. Her hand is stretching out, dropping something shiny into his hand, and you hate it, you hate it, you hate it.
You act before you think. Your cheeks puff up and you take a big breath in and then there’s water, all over her pretty pink cardigan. She shrieks and then starts to cry a little, and you stick out your tongue and blow a raspberry at her before diving back down, flipping your tail with sass as you go.
“I’m really sorry,” Tsutomu says frantically, offering her a wrinkled handkerchief. “It was an accident, I swear. I-I really appreciate your confession and, um, I’m glad you were comfortable enough soo that you could come to me, but, oh! My mom’s here, I have to go! Bye!”
You swivel and watch as he picks you up and bolts away; her tears seem to have dried a bit as she stares after him in bewilderment. Not for the first time, you wish you had two legs and hands to hold onto Tsutomu. You wish that you could stay on shore with him, and keep away all the girls like her forever.
You know it’s childish, but you don’t care. Does it matter that it’s an immature thought when it’s completely impossible?
In the car, Tsutomu is quiet. Even his mother seems to notice his pensive aura, and frames her questions about his day carefully to avoid sounding like she’s prying.
“What’s that?” She asks, and he unclenches his hand, looking as mystified by the object in his palm as you feel. It’s a pin, gold and pink and shaped like a heart. “Oh, my gosh, is that from your girlfriend, Tsutomu?”
“No,” he says immediately. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
You frown, bumping the red walls of the bucket, and he trails his fingers through the water. Something coppery floods your senses, and you dart over to nuzzle his hand instinctively. In his palm, there’s an angry red mark, oozing little droplets of blood. When you poke it, he winces. 
It tastes weird when you lick it.
“Hey!” He jerks his hand out of the water. “Whoa.”
Where Tsutomu knew he had been pricked by the pin a few minutes ago, there’s no sign of injury, even though the water surrounding you still has a faint tint in places. You watch him with round eyes, and he offers you a smile and a pat on the head. Amazing.
“What did you think, Y/N?” You stick out your tongue.
“Girlfriends suck,” is your opinion. “Pbbbt.”
The wind blows the longer strands of Tsutomu’s straight hair to the side as he stands next to the garden hose, refilling your bucket with fresh water. Above you, the sky is a weak blue, it’s brighter shades concealed by layers of white mist. A lush, slightly overgrown garden is what hides behind the picket fence you can see from the seashore, full of plants that look so familiar to the kelp forests you’re used to, yet so different. The upper lands are so strange. You’re glad Tsutomu’s mom doesn’t keep her garden dry and cut into shrubbery, like some of the houses you saw on the way to his school.
“Who are you?” Tsutomu’s voice is stiff, like his form as he drops you into the now-full bucket of fresh water while you crane your neck to see past his legs.
“Where is she?” Booms a voice you know all too well. It cuts off when he sees you, lips pursed while you try to look as inconspicuous as possible. “Captured by a human boy? Bad, that’s very bad. Give her here—“
“No!” Your friend yelps. “You want to take her? Y/N, I’ll protect you.”
“Protection?” Your father sneers, his hair puffing up threateningly. “I felt her signal for help—very good, by the way, your spellwork is coming along nicely. Give her here, now, I’ll be drying out soon.”
“I don’t care! Y/N wouldn’t do that, we’re friends,” Tsutomu says, casting a glance down at you. You nod, your tongue feeling stuck.
“My daughter would not befriend a human—“
“Y/N loves Tsutomu!” You cry. A light blazes in his eyes at the words, and his posture straightens.
“And I love her!”
“Eh?” Your father looks between the two of you. “That’s nonsense, Brunhilda, you know what humans are like, and what’s a Y/N, anyway?”
“It’s me!” You flip in the air, surging with defiant energy. “It’s my name.”
You choke midsentence as a hand closes around you; the world goes up in bubbles, and all you can hear is Tsutomu screaming your name, over and over.
Over.
And over.
And over.

“Again!” You sigh and twitch your fins lazily, watching with hooded eyes as lines only you can see race across the model mountain, glowing faintly before they settle into the material. The warding spell is clean and simple, requiring no complicated incantations or strange ingredients. However, it needs time to sink in, and when a hermit crab scuttles over the map and right onto your now-invisible lines, the whole thing goes up in a puff of smoke.
“Y/N,” your father says sternly, having given up on Brunhilda some time ago, when you refused to answer to it. “This is meant to be a demonstration for your sisters. These spells require layering, you know, one spell to ward and a secondary spell to, in a way, ward that ward. This creates an effect…”
You say nothing, merely letting a current of water roll you onto your side, your eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling. You can feel the sympathetic gaze of your father—you know that he didn’t intend for this to happen. He only wanted to save you; he couldn’t have known that Tsutomu wasn’t the threat. You know he worries about you when he thinks you can’t hear him. You hear his every prayer for your mother to come back, to make things right, to help you see things his way. It’s only on the third point that he loses you. You didn’t want things to be this way either.
When you lost Tsutomu, something inside you boiled up and nearly steamed over. You can only remember wanting to go back, to go home to him, desperately trying to rejoin him on land. You love your father, and you only want his understanding. He left behind his humanity for your mother; why can’t you gain it yourself for Tsutomu?
The lid had clamped down on that furiously bubbling emotion, and in response it had gone to sleep, simmering but never fully boiling away. At first, you had been unmotivated even to eat or wake when your sisters did. Four years later, you still miss him: you go about your day to day life just fine, but you lack your childhood verve.
Even now, you can feel yourself slipping into slumber, exhausted by just a few minutes of magic. Your father’s voice and the clamor of your sisters meld into a comforting hum, lulling you further. You barely register the feeling of your father carrying you to your aquarium, the whisper of his goodnight lost on your drowsing mind.
When he was fourteen, Tsutomu’s mother found him in the garden. There was a wet trail leading right off the bluffs, a red bucket lying on its side, and her son, sitting with his knees under his chin and crying his heart out. The garden hose was still on.
She didn’t ask what happened, just turned off the hose and crouched next to him, arm over his shoulders, until he looked up at her with puffy eyes and wordlessly followed her into the house.
Risa had always known that she could be a little sharp with her words, and so she used food to express herself more often when she wanted it to be soft and soothing. She mixed her son some tea, the way she had every time he’d gotten sick when he was little, slid two slices of bread into the toaster, and hoped that the warmth of what she gave him would travel into his heart and help it heal a bit. Tsutomu cried into the toast a little, once it had been lavished with butter and honey, but it was just sniffling and not silent sobs, so she didn’t mind much. Then they sat on the couch and she rubbed his back while old tapes of his very first volleyball games played on the TV.
Tsutomu never told her what had happened that day. He could tell that she was curious, but unwilling to pressure him, and he wasn’t sure how to explain it. She’d always spoken about you in the same manner most adults used to describe the imaginary friends of children, and correcting that assumption seemed beyond the dignity of the man he wanted her to see him as. He knew that she guessed that he’d knocked over the bucket and sent his fish back down into the sea, and it wasn’t an unreasonable explanation. Fourteen year old boys weren’t the most rational creatures, and he could very easily have been sent into a similar kind of spiral had the fish just been a regular goldfish. It wasn’t, though, and he’d never cried so hard over any girl since.
He misses you. Though it doesn’t ache as sharply as it did when the fear of facing off against your father was fresh in his mind, he still thinks of you with a pang of sadness. There had been a sense of belonging with you he knows was more than a fleeting feeling. He hopes you’re happy in the ocean, learning new magic and spending time with your sisters, and once you’re queen of the sea, maybe you’ll come visit him. He’ll show you his cross spike.
“Again!” Shirabu barks, and Tsutomu has no trouble complying. He empties himself of every concern outside of the game and slams down a serve, just outside of the zone he wants it to land in. Without prompting, he picks up another ball and does it again.
Over and over and over.
Electricity was already crackling in the air when he woke up.
Everything felt uncomfortable, like the pressure in the atmosphere would pop and the sky would fall down in flaming pieces around them. It’s gray, like it was the day you went home. You’ve been lingering even longer on his mind than usual, and he just hopes that the knot in his throat will go away if he hits enough perfect shots. It would probably help if his partner for the day weren’t allergic to acknowledging when he does something right.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Shirabu says. Tsutomu makes a face at him and serves one more ball, the sound of it hitting the ground echoing obnoxiously. These days, he and Shirabu are good friends, though they’re still hiding behind the thin veneer of antagonism they’d held for each other in their first years. Being teammates at Shiratorizawa means being bonded for life, after all. There’s no sense in fighting it. The powers that be (also known as Coach Washijō) are as inexorable as fate, after all.
During the school year, Tsutomu lived in the dorms, like most other academy students, but living a mere half hour ride away meant he often visited the school over summers, too. It’s a little bittersweet now to know that each day spent practicing in this gym could be his last; though he has some time before university begins, he’s not sure when graduates are supposed to lose access.
“I drove with my mom,” Tsutomu says, “so I’ll be meeting her at the senior center. You’re coming over to watch the Rockets game later, right?”
“Sure,” Shirabu says, slinging on his backpack. “I have to bring some homework, though, I have too much preliminary coursework already.”
“You asked for it, smartass,” teases his friend.
“That’s gonna be Doctor smartass to you.”
Despite the short walk between the academy and the senior center, Tsutomu is soaked by the time he walks inside. He’s careful when taking off his raincoat and shaking out his umbrella, placing it into the designated stand, stamping his boots on the absorbent mat a few times to be safe. Just past the welcome desk, he can see his mother, pushing rambunctious Mrs. Suzuki down the hall, probably to her daily bingo game, where she’ll fleece the other players just like she’s done every day for years. Mrs. Fukuyo is sitting near the terrace doors, gazing out of the big window at the wet world outside.
“Hello, Tsutomu-chan,” she says, beckoning him to sit down, taking his hand in both of hers. “Or should I say Goshiki? You’re an adult, now, aren’t you?”
“Basically,” he says, lifting his chin. “One more week.”
“Oh, yes, you’re very grown up,” she says. “I remember when you were just starting secondary school. You were a bit skinnier then, and you wouldn’t eat fish.”
Tsutomu flushes.
“A lot can happen in a week,” says Miss Itoh, who often plays Mrs. Suzuki’s partner in crime when she deigns to attend bingo, as she passes by. “You be careful, Tsutomu, with all this weather. It’s bad luck.”
“There’s always weather,” sniffs Mrs. Fukuyo. “And we need the rain.”
“I’ll take care, don’t worry,” Tsutomu says politely. “You do the same, please.”
“Good, good,” Miss Itoh sounds distracted. “Happy birthday. Keep out of the rain, you’ll get sick. And don’t go sailing.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he stands to bow as she leaves the room.
“She’s crazy,” Mrs. Fukuyo sighs, half-joking. “But even a broken clock is right twice a day. You’re a good kid.”
“Thank you,” he says, stiff and awkward, cheeks glowing red.
“Tsutomu, there you are. Sorry to keep you waiting, I’m done now,” his mother lands a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Hello there, Mrs. Fukuyo. Doing well?”
“I am, thank you,” says the elderly woman. “Just telling your son what a strong man he’s grown up to be. He’ll take good care of his mother.”
“I will,” Tsutomu says with conviction. His mother’s pride beams down on him like the sun splitting the clouds.
“Thank you,” his mother says. “The storm rages on; we should probably go.”
“The roads aren’t safe,” says the the woman at the check-in desk as they prepare their rain gear to leave. “You should stay here for the night, Risa.”
Her jaw tightens. “I need to be there if Koichi radios in. We’ll make it just fine, don't you worry.”
On a nondescript day in August, you wake up.
Something tastes different on the current, and you feel almost like you’re regarding the world with new eyes again. You remember, with fierce and reckless abandon, what it is to love.
“Good morning,” you greet your sisters cheerily.
“Good morning!” They echo back, beaming at you. They feel it too, you can tell.
You eat your breakfast with gusto, examine your scales and scrub each until they shine. You kiss every sister you see on top of her red-gold head.
“I want to see Goshiki,” you tell your father, watching as his hair stands on end at the name, bracing yourself so the surprised jolt of power he emits doesn’t knock you down.
“No,” is all he can muster for a moment. “The human world isn’t safe. Look at what happened to you the last time you went up there.”
“I would have been fine because of Tsutomu,” you say, “And I’m even more powerful now than I was.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he snaps back. “They taint everything they touch. You’d have to-to literally, actually become a human to return to the surface. I don’t want them taking you. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You take a deep breath.
“Fine,” you say. “Then I’ll do it myself.”
You exhale with controlled force, closing your eyes and concentrating on the slow beat of cold blood in your veins.
“What are you doing?” Starts your father, nervously, but you don’t hear as you focus intently on the warmth spreading through you.
Pop!
You open your eyes, magic still swirling around you, and beam.
“Feet!” You chirp. “I have feet!” A little more pushing, and—
“Are those legs?” Your father shrieks. “Stop this right now!”
“No,” you say fiercely, and release an explosion of power so potent it rocks you backward. Seconds later, you realize that you’ve blasted a hole in the wall and the barrier ward; seawater rich with plankton rushes through, followed by barracuda with bulging eyes and squirming eels. You have hands, now, and something odd is happening to your scalp. You use one of the new extremities to reach tentatively up and pat your head.
“Hair!” Your sisters, freed from their own bubbles by the commotion, float around you. A shock of hair has sprouted from your scalp like a crop of coral. It tickles your forehead.
“I did it,” you say quietly, breathless. “I’m human.”
You look around for your father, but only see the tail end of him dashing into one of his back rooms, his nervous muttering echoing around the room.
Perhaps if you were human from the beginning, your mother would have taken you to the sea, held your hand as you beheld the glittering waves for the first time, and warned you never to turn your back on the ocean. Alas, you weren’t and she didn’t, so you fall with no resistance forward when a rush of water slams into your back, grinding your face into the floor and sweeping you away while you flail your little hands helplessly.
You’ve only felt so powerless in the water once before. Scrabbling for purchase as you freewheel through the halls of your home, you catch your fingers—there’s still a little rush of joy from it, you made them, you have fingers—on the spokes of a great wheel and cling for dear life. It creaks and turns, and you yelp, your words turning to bubbles that rise and pop against the ceiling, against which the water now reaches. The wheel turns again, and you try to hold your breath (something you’ve never done before) as something in the door clicks. There’s a moment where you think it’ll hold, and then you rock forward a little more, and it swings open. The ocean, eager to fill everything and make it its own, changes its course, and you tumble into the room, eyes widening when you see the enormous cauldron filled with something richly luminous and golden. Even submerged, the scent of the potion is strong, reminiscent of plant rot and blooming flowers, the same perfume that your mother exudes. For a moment, you gain breath, lungs and gills morphed and confused, and then you’re pulled back beneath the surface and pushed right into the pot.
You shut your eyes, the golden glow permeating even through your eyelids, and oddly enough, you can breathe like it’s pure oxygen. You can feel your spell being taken away from you, your limbs becoming fins, and you open your eyes.
I want to be human, you cry. I want to see my love.
The cauldron erupts, pushing you out of it on the top of a geyser. You hear popping noises and try to stand, looking down to see several of your sisters caught up in the fount of bubbling-over magic, thrashing joyfully as they try to wave at you with suddenly huge fins. 
You wave back, and gasp involuntarily when you see your own hand. Five fingers, covered with soft skin, veins carrying warm blood and strong bones beneath it. Your sisters may have grown far more in the span of the last few seconds, but you’ve reached an entirely unfamiliar size and shape yourself. You stretch your legs, examining your toes, the way your dress—the same color as your scales and a little iridescent, just like they were—flows around you, and beam at your sisters.
Thank you, Mother. You bow your head quickly in short prayer.
“Let’s go see Tsutomu!” You call out, and your sisters leap in answer. The surface world is so different through the eyes of a human. Your head is turned constantly to the shore as you race on the bubbling foam towards the highest hill you can see, a speck of yellow and red on top of it growing closer with every step. Lights turn on and off in the windows of homes, a thousand little fireflies glowing smaller in the distance. Trees, shivering and shaking in the wind, make up the landscape, shaping it into something that looks almost soft from so far above.
The broad panorama isn’t without more minor detail, though: with some fascination, you see two glowing eyes staring at you from along the road. Their owner steps out of the shadows—a furry creature with pointy ears and a tail and a sleek white coat of fur. Another cat follows him into the light, this one black and her eyes shiny green, unlike the first’s calm blue. The white cat rubs his cheek along the other’s, winding around her while she stands stock-still. Quick as a minnow, the black cat swipes at him, but the white cat darts away, checking over its shoulder to see if she’ll follow. You beam broadly and speed up, eager to situate yourself in this strange and exciting new world Tsutomu comes from.
Tsutomu can’t remember a time his mother’s spent the night away from home. Every night, without fail, if she knows that his dad will be in the harbor, she sits at home and waits for him, beaming their signal in start-stop patterns, having whole conversations with him in flashes when the radio reception isn’t to be used. It’s not often he’s away from home, either; it makes him uneasy to be away from the open sea. A closed horizon is a strange sight to him, like being a bug trapped in a bowl.
His parents’ commitment to each other has shaped him, something he’s always known. In sickness and in health, they swore to each other, and they kept it. For better or for worse.
His mother certainly seems intent on plowing through the worst to get to his father, now, the rain hitting their windshield in sheets and the water sloshing around their tires. Tsutomu doesn’t protest at all, just hangs on to the grab handle and stares out at the behemoth waves.
A flash of red shines in the corner of his eye. He sucks in a sharp breath, twisting fully around. He squints, trying to make out shapes through the rain.
“Get back in your seat,” his mother blindly swats at him with one hand, eyes focused on the road. “You’re throwing off the weight distribution.”
Tsutomu ignores her, white knuckling the cushions of the car as he watches you, dancing in the rain, running with the waves. You duck and weave, your dress red against the cold, gray sea.
“There’s a girl in the water!”
“What? Where?”
His mouth lies, but his heart knows the truth, knew it as soon as he saw you.
“There,” he points, but you pull ahead of them, and then there’s nothing but lightning flashing in the distance. “Never mind. Never mind. We just—we just need to go home, sorry.”
“Right you are,” his mother says, and drives the gas pedal into the floor.
Tsutomu is a shipwreck. Tossed around on the waves of his thoughts, he finds himself cresting and falling, one emotion followed immediately by another. It can’t be you. It is you. Tsutomu doesn’t care what you are, just that he can see you again. He wonders if this is what drowning feels like.
Their wipers battle to slough off the buckets pouring from the sky, and Tsutomu’s heart drops to his soles when a smudge of red reveals itself just to be his old bucket, hanging off the fence. His mom parks and he tries to regulate his breathing, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car on shaky legs.
“Is that…” His mother says, trailing off, and his head snaps up, the car blocking him from whatever she sees.
He walks around, trying desperately not to break into a run, trying not to get his hopes up.
Barely audible over the sound of storming, the pat-pat-pat of rapid footsteps is his only warning before—
You crash into Tsutomu, both faces scrunching up from the impact, both losing your footing on the wet pavement and falling further into each other. He knows it’s you even with his eyes closed. He would know you in every world and the next; he would know you from the beat of your heart and the touch of your skin and the way he loves you, loves you, loves you.
For a moment, before you hit the ground, you feel like you’re flying with him.
You spill together onto the driveway like an egg cracked into a pan, still holding each other in a bone-crushing embrace. You inhale his scent deeply and nuzzle into his wet-rain-jacket shoulder, and he cracks his eyes open, afraid you’ll disappear when he comes back to reality.
Tsutomu says your name quietly, on tenterhooks, almost all the breath in his body taken out of him.
You lift your head and say his louder, eyes wide and bright and wet. He can’t stop his tears from welling up, but he can blame them on the rain.
You kiss his cheeks where the salt might dry, one then the other, soft as the breeze. Tsutomu can still feel your smile, unfading. The sky turns gold around you.
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lehguru · 1 year
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DRESS + GOSHIKI TSUTOMU
for my beloved @mars-yknow, how goshiki would react to wearing a dress!!
warnings: well, goshiki wears a dress; not proofread!!
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first of all, i would like to say: he would look absolutely adorable in a baby purple dress. not too short, but not too long either and with a v-shaped neck line!
the incentive to wear the dress would need to come from you. even if goshiki probably thought about it before, he never took any step to try it out, as he would be too shy to go shopping for that kind of clothing. so, when you appeared with the clothing, begging him to try it on, he didn't have the heart to refuse it.
when he walked out of his room, the dress looking really nice on his body, the expression you made sent a blush to his cheeks. "i-i don't think i look that good." he said, spinning around while trying to check himself out. you started clapping and he looked at you with a confused expression.
"twirl more! shiki, twirl again!" when he finally noticed what he did, his cheeks got as red as tomatoes. "please, you look so beautiful. come here!" even if he felt like putting his head through his wall, he walked up to you, his eyes glued to the wooden floor. when he was standing in front of you, you grabbed his hands and placed a soft kiss on his knuckles; "seriously, i wouldn't mind you wearing that more often."
the little giggle that would leave his mouth, would only confirm to you that goshiki liked it too; he liked it even more because it was a gift from his darling – he also loves to hear the praises you throw his way.
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2023 © content belongs to lehguru, but the characters used in them belong to their respective creators!!
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loveephia · 1 year
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:¨ ·.· ¨: ハイキュー!! some of the HQ boys meeting a pretty fan . . .
`· . ꔫ . . . (goshiki, atsumu, kuroo, iwaizumi, bokuto.)
⚠ warning/s: none.
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GOSHIKI TSUTOMU
goshiki loves being doted on. that's a given.
so when you commended him for his talents after a practice match, best believe he was over the moon.
"t- thank you, y/n!" goshiki said, mentally scolding himself for the stutter. usually, he'd be much more confident than this, but your cheerful attitude and cute face just chipped away at that.
"i was just telling the truth." you state with a charming wink.
"careful, y/n. you might break him!" semi joked.
ATSUMU MIYA
now atsumu's met his handful of fans, beautiful and all, but you stood out to him the most.
"what can i do fer ya, darlin'?" atsumu asked, accidentally letting a petname slip from his lips. he mentally facepalms, hoping that his little mishap wouldn't drive you away.
"uhm.. may i have a picture, please?" you asked, pushing your glasses up awkwardly.
"of course!" atsumu accepted like an excited puppy. his teammates shared a knowing look, an unspoken statement that went, "yep. he's already fallen deep."
KUROO TERSURŌ
kuroo's first thoughts on you weren't anything out of the ordinary. just a "yeah, she's cute" is all.
you asked kuroo for a picture, and he accepted. since he was taller than you, he could smell the fragrance of your shampoo. fruity.
kuroo then wraps an arm around your waist, and you swore that your breath hitched.
the picture was finally taken, and you thanked him shyly before walking away to your own friends, who teased you endlessly about what they just saw.
"did i really just do that?" kuroo thought, in a daze.
IWAIZUMI HAJIME
iwaizumi doesn't have nearly as many fans as his best friend, so when he does get a fan, a beautiful one at that, he gets all shy about it.
"iwaizumi, you're an amazing player, and whether you choose to pursue volleyball or not, i'll be rooting for you." you smile warmly at him, your soft hands clasped around his calloused ones.
"t- thanks for that, y/n." he manages to let out through his heavy chest.
how could someone be so ethereal?
BOKUTO KŌTARŌ
he lets out a little "woah" upon first meeting.
"i watched your game against nekoma a few months ago, and you were so cool! you were like.. bam! or- more like fwoosh, thwack!" you tried to mimic the noises and movements made on that court, all the while accidentally feeding bokuto's soaring pride.
now he's ten times more pumped for his game later! he hopes that you'll be watching him, and him only.
"aw, shucks. thanks, y/n!" bokuto smiled brightly.
you see akaashi behind bokuto, giving you a quiet thumbs up for whatever reason..
(akaashi was telepathically trying to tell you, "thank you for help keeping our aces' spirit high.")
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© lowercase intended | loveephia
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kairiscorner · 6 months
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first kisses with them are like . . .
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being greeted with the feeling of soft, sunflower petals.
when they kiss you, it feels like the world slows down a little. they had no idea how to fit their lips with your own, they sort of feel like your lips are too beautiful, too sweet for their own to touch; but you want them to interlock their own with yours, anyway—you don't mind how inexperienced or anxious they may be, or how much overthinking they've done—you just want them to know that your lips are theirs to kiss; theirs. they gulp a little, give you a dorky smile that you can't help but chuckle a bit at, and slowly lean in forward, and give you a brief, chaste kiss that sends butterflies in your stomach and a light feeling that sends your heart soaring.
it feels like that kiss could last forever, and you both wished it did; they really downplay themselves a lot, for someone who says they aren't a good kisser, they certainly know how to make you all giddy and giggly after their gentle peck on your lips.
after they pull away, it's like you both start wondering just how magical that frozen moment in time was; it was straight out of a fairy tale, how easily they romanced you with the mere feeling of their lips on yours, with all the love they had for you in that loving kiss that probably didn't even last for a minute, but felt like an eternity that you wished you two could live out forever.
yamaguchi, sugawara, asahi, daichi, yachi, aran, goshiki, aone, lev, ennoshita, alisa.
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having the sparks of firecrackers dancing on your lips.
they always seemed so confident, daring, and unafraid of anything—anything, that was, except confronting their feelings about you, because if anyone could get them this restless and enthusiastic, be it in obvious or subtle ways of their own, only you could do that. they had reputations for being a bit hard-headed or too cocky, some of them being a bit chaotic and intimidating at times... but they were very, very passionate lovers at heart—and they really, really wanted to let you know just how much they loved you through this kiss that you let them share with you.
out of excitement, they stole that kiss from you the minute you puckered those sweet little petal-like lips of yours; you hadn't realized it, but they had already placed their lips on yours—and it felt like a flame had kindled in your chest, and your cheeks burned with so much fluster in them.
they kept your lips firmly locked with theirs, telling you without words that you were theirs... and they were yours. they hated sharing, no matter how good their facade could get, that was the one thing they couldn't mask up. as long as you loved them and their kisses, their lips would be the only ones on yours, making your heart burn and your lips sear with so much love—love they could only give to you, and only you, because you're the one for them, the only one their lips, heart, and selves belonged to.
hinata, bokuto, nishinoya, tanaka, terushima, iwaizumi, atsumu, tendou, yaku, oikawa, kuroo.
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feeling a cold frosty blanket of snow melt into warm greenery.
if they were being honest... they didn't quite know how to kiss; or rather, they had no clue just how kisses were supposed to feel like. sure, romance and romantic gestures could be read about, heard about, but never truly experienced by them. until you came and changed the flow of their lives. their lips always ached with this fervor, this burning need, that was overshadowed by their cool, composed, sort of aloof, personality. if only they could show more than what you're used to, then you'd know how much they want you, how much their lips yearn to touch with yours.
when you finally let them kiss your lips... a blossoming feeling in their hearts grows, and they feel a blooming passion erupt from them that is released through the soft kiss they plant on your supple lips. they were more enamored with you than you had realized—and it makes you all the more in love with them.
to think that someone so beautiful, so perfect, so out of your league had wanted, so desperately, for this moment to happen is just... phenomenal to you. when you kiss them back, they give a soft whimper—oh, they're soft... both physically, and internally. you can't help but appreciate the vulnerability behind their austere, indifferent gazes; it makes you just want them more, and more, and more, and they're more than willing to give you all of them, always.
kenma, osamu, suna, akaashi, ushijima, kiyoko, kita, tsukishima, semi, sakusa, kageyama.
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trueshellz · 1 year
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Young parents Ushijima x readers toddler waddles into the gym cue confused Goshiki noises
You had been walking to your husband's practice with your toddlers hand clasped tightly. One of her small hand was wrapped in yours and her other hand was clutching her teddy bear, a mascot with Toshi's number on there and a frown to match the man himself. You were carrying lunch for him, something he somehow had forgotten this morning when he was wrestling hair ties into your daughters hair and decided to stop in to see him during practice.
A squeal had you looking down, her finger pointing to the door of the practice hall as she somehow escaped your clutches and ran full speed to the door. At the same time, the strap on your bag failed and it came tumbling down to the floor, between the wayward child and the broken bag now on the floor you could only sweep everything up and try to catch up.
To say Goshiki was confused was an understatement.
Not only had a small child, cute as shit child but a child none the less, waddled into the hall, but this child was carrying a teddy with Ushijima's number on. Big green eyes looking up at him, her hair in two slightly messy pigtails with a hoodie and jeans down to her light up trainers. He blinked a few times, the volleyball left bouncing on the floor.
"Er... hi?"
"Papa here?" Her sweet voice carrying through the hall making everyone stare.
"Papa? Who's your Papa?"
"Asuka? What on earth?"
A screech of laughter as Ushijima picked her up, her hands instantly going around his neck and covering his face with wet kisses. The bear still clutched in her hand now landing kisses on his face aswell, his hands holding her close to his chest making him look almost... fatherly. Then a loud noise from the door made him look up to see a tired woman at the door, her hands clutching a bag to her chest and a bento box in her other hand.
"Crazy child got away. Again."
Goshiki stood in shock as Ushijima glanced at the little girl with a raised eyebrow, her little grin still present even as she apologised to both of them before kissing him again. The woman coming over to tickle her nose before placing a quick peck on Ushijima's face.
"Wha? Huh?"
"This is my wife and our daughter, Asuka."
"But... but..."
"I think we broke him, babe."
A giggle as you leaned into your husband, his warm body next to yours and an arm slung casually around your waist. His shirt was a little damp with sweat, his hair stuck to his forehead and chest heaving but he was still handsome as ever and made your ovaries twitch everytime. Two pairs of green eyes glanced at Goshiki, his own eyes wide in shock as he pointed between all of you. The noise attracting attention from the other team members, equally confused and then laughter as they saw the animated Goshiki suddenly mute and flabbergasted.
"But...how?"
Ushijima's voice cut through the random confused noises. "Do we really need to give you a lesson in human reproduction? I thought you were brighter than that?"
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ayyyez · 1 year
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Can you mayhap do more goshiki and Tsuki headcanons? Maybe first date, first time, first kiss etc
A/N: oh yes more of the side haikyuu boys! sure thing!
TAGS: first kiss, making out, first date, first time mentions and descriptions but not explicit, mentions of foreplay but not explicit, headcanons, Tsukki being a little shit but also a secret simp, Goshiki being a loveable dork who sometimes gets a big head lol, undercut for length
CHARACTERS: Tsukishima Kei, Goshiki Tsutomu
TSUKISHIMA KEI
First and foremost, to date this guy you gotta be able to call him out on his shit because he NEEDS that.
Doesn't matter about personality in regards to being either shy/reserved and preferring to do it in private or being confident/ outspoken and doing it right there when its needed (or any combination of them) AS LONG AS IT HAPPENS! CALL HIM OUT!
It makes Tsukki respect you, listen to you (depends on the situation on whether he follows through on the change lol) and also is what makes him attracted to you in the first place.
See the thing is he wants to be seen so you calling him out leads to banter and banter leads to a familiar rapport and eventually one of you cracking (yes cracking because its a game of how long either of you can last without spilling your feelings!) and confessing.
Definitely a confess -> date -> kiss kinda guy but in saying that these things can totally all happen in the span of a week with him.
Once the balls rolling he moves FAST
Likes chill, casual dates and your first date is no different.
Something like a cafe, a lowkey restaurant to eat or even just going over each others houses for a study date.
Prefers being out of the eyes of the public.
Will also leave the control of the date (in general), including the venue, up to you (with those previous preferences as his contribution).
When it comes to telling you this though he's kind of jerky about it (to a strangers eye anyway) as Tch-ishima makes an appearence.
'Tch, we're just hanging out like usual.' and then will add 'Shouldn't a date be just us two and away from everyone else.' While internally he's just gunning for the date to be at home lol.
It also gives him ample opportunity to go in for that first kiss. Tsukki you sly guy!
Will never admit in a million years.
Feel free to try teasing and asking him about it though!
'So did just bring me back here to try and pull this huh?' Right after a kiss.
He'll just give you one of those smirks and poke your forehead.
'I don't know did I?'
Tries to act indifferent but you see that smirk soften ever so slightly into to a the hint of a real smile.
Psh what a dork. Forever the internal simp.
While he moves fast in terms of the from first date to first kiss scene the first time comes with a bit more time.
He's ever so patient with that kind of thing and doesn't really see the whole point of rushing in unprepared that leads to everyone having an awkward ehem unpleasant time.
Okay so maybe thats a bit of a mild—not fear exactly—it's definitely a bit of a concern though. So he keeps those kisses wanting and makeouts steamy but cuts them off Jussssst~ when they're about to get good.
It's not on purpose he's just got to stay in control ya'know?
He's not letting those floodgates open until you bring it up. Maybe a part of him wants you to beg a little. It's not a must of course! He's just not opposed to it.
This is the part where you can comply or give him a little smack upside the head to reground himself. It gets a smirk either way.
Either way the first time with Tsukki comes when you ask for more and you both agree to finally (your words not his) move forward. Tsukki is the kind of guy who has the patience to wait a lifetime. No qualms.
Once you've got him going though. He's like oh damn. This is something else. Even better than those makeout sessions!
A first time with Tsukki is a more drawn out first time. It's exploratory and sensory with lots of touching and not lots of talking (unless it's from you, it's okay to be a nervous talker - he's just only going to talk when necessary or to respond).
There's definitely communication for needs from him he's just not the type to have a chat during (at least in the first time and early days).
He also has a concentration frown and sometimes he's biting his lip so hard your afraid it's going to break and bleed. It's cute honestly.
Lots of foreplay before the main act. Lots of exploratory touching. There's no jumping in even though it's the first time. He takes his time and his patience can be frustrating at this point if you wanna just GO.
He can get a little teasing here. It's where he probably talks the most. 'Oh raring to go huh? Well lets just take our time.' Little shit lol.
Once you're doing it though he's actually pretty sweet. Making sure you're okay. You're comfortable. Expects the same from you too. It's an act of trust after all.
May confess a sweet thing or two during. Depends on how he's vibing. Feels a bit awkward about it afterwards but won't take it back. Just will tell you to shut up if you tease him about it.
Perfect time to make him blush. Yes he will get you water and help clean each other up and spoon you after if you are into that. It's good manners afterall.
GOSHIKI TSUTOMOU
Goshiki is a little sweetie okay and deserves someone who appreciates and respects him.
However much like Tsukki it's kind of the same where you have to be real with him and tell him when he's getting a too big head sometimes.
Definitely a friendship to lovers vibe or even a you respected me to call me out as an acquaintance then I fell in love with you and chased after you vibe (Goshiki being the chaser lol)
Goshiki is definitely a 'fall in love at first sight' kind of vibe. Like he doesn't actually but he thinks he does. He just gets swept up very easily by people who make a strong impact on him and runs with it.
Him chasing you can go two ways depending on the type of person you are and how you want this sweetie to react.
You could be the type to catch on to his very obvious crush on you. He's not stealthy about it to the point it's likely his whole team knows lmao and whats worse is he THINKS he's so clever, calm and collected about it but he's...the opposite lol.
Using this information you could do you both a favour and just confess to him first. Goshiki will become the most flustered mess you've ever seen.
He'll be bright red, shocked silent until he barely recovers, saying 'Haha of course you wanna date me!' while also internally is like Omg you want to date me!?
But you know him. You've learnt to read the doubt behind his eyes whenever such words leave his lips.
'Yeah I want to date you, so whats your answer?' You reiterate.
This throws him of balance again and he's spluttering because oh yeah this isn't one of his daydreams he has about being the best ace and getting his crush. This actually is his crush asking him out.
'Yes please.' He manages to get out. Ever so polite just as his parents taught him. It takes everything in you to keep your smile composed and not laugh at him. Adorable.
The OTHER WAY this could go if you're not one to ask someone out or if you just want to see what he'll do, is wait. He'll sit on his crush until he just sort of explodes.
It'll take awhile of him running over to you at every opportunity he gets, you can always count on it like clockwork.
Then one day he's not there? Nor the next or the next. You kind of get worried. You see a friend of his wave them over and begin to ask when you FINALLY see Goshiki come over.
he's redder than usual, frown on his face like he'd been....sulking? huh.
Wraps his hand around your wrist. 'Can we go?'
'okay?'
Tugs! Tugs you away somewhere a bit more secluded. Away from prying eyes.
You stand there and scan his expression. Still stuck in a sulky frown. Almost pouting? huh cute.
'Do you-' He stops looking down. 'Will you-' He stops again groaning. 'I'm the ace right?'
'Huh?' Okay major confusion. 'Yeah?'
'So that makes me pretty cool right?'
You frowned, scanning him up and down. Was Goshiki asking if you thought he was cool? With a sulky expression? Something had to be going on.
'Naturally.' You cleared your throat watching him smile. 'Whats going on?'
'Well since I'm the coolest guy you know it's your lucky day since I've got a question for you!'
And with that Goshiki went bright red and stumbled into asking you out in his own awkward, self concious way.
Very sweet when the two of you start dating. Always trying to show off for you and share volleyball with you but also shows that he makes you one of his priorities.
Heckin loves food so loves food dates especially to lowkey restaurants, loves showing off in this regard by showing you nice places but likes to be spoiled too so show him cool places.
A sucker for hand holding. Thinks its peak affection along with cheek kissing.
Takes him awhile to move up with physical affection because he combusts and gets anxious about it and his feelings. He's self concious from various complexes he's developed over time.
You probably have to initiate the first kiss or have to make do with being VERY patient. He's so shy. If you do intiate it be prepared for him being flustered. It's cute.
Making out is a very big deal to transition to as well. You gotta talk him through it. He's all stiff, clattering teeth and noses and forehead bumping at first. Whoops. Its sweet though.
Once he gets though he REALLY gets it! Really gets into it too like this boy is a quick study after all and he just gets the kissing bug. It'll be you who will be like OKAY BABY WE GOTTA COME UP FOR AIR YOU'RE ALL RED AND ABOUT TO PASS OUT.
But he looks~ well if looks could kill~ he's a hot mess you could devour right then and there. All red, flustered, panting? Lips all slick? Love bites on the neck? Hair disheveled? Hello Goshiki where have you been hiding?
First time is much like the first kiss in terms off nerves. He's all stiff and jumpy.
Again, you'll have to talk him through it but it doesn't mean he won't attempt to take initiative. It's a team effort on both fronts. It won't be drawn out though, he's too worked up and nervous.
A lot of bumping into each other and awkward moments but there's also a lot of sweet moments and feeling good.
Lots of communication and awkward mess talking. Lots of kissing and touching. Grab his hair for good moans hehe.
Things are loud with Goshiki. He's vocal, he can't help it. Don't make fun of him though he's sensitive.
He needs aftercare in form of cuddles and pillowtalk. Very clingy after and he's also VERY warm so if you run cold then good news for you! You've now got your own personal heater.
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satantica · 1 year
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haikyu boys meeting your family pt.2
he tells you that this is okay but actually freaking out as his whole life depends on this. he will never admit it but he desperately wants your family to like him. therefore he keeps mouth shut so he wouldn’t embarrass himself. also will buy something outstanding for each member cause he thinks that’s a sign of a good tone. in spite of him being too silent and shy, he listens to your younger siblings very interested in what they want to tell him. he nods and asks them several questions to completely understand the topic. he’s not sure how to act at the table so he’s a bit afraid to touch you but then thinks of your thighs as a safe space and a moment later tells himself that he should wait till you two get home.
kenma kozume, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, kita shinsuke, GOSHIKI TSUTOMU, kentaro kyotani
compliments each member of your family and just keeps being such a sweetheart. really gets along with children so your younger siblings get more attention than you. but that happens because he thinks about having children of your own. at the table will lean over to give you a kiss on your cheek moving his hands from your waist to thigh while your family doesn’t see it. when someone asks him about how serious he is about you, he chokes and then starts nervously telling EVERYTHING about your relationship and how perfect and wonderful you are. he starts off smoothly and then ends up saying the most random, awkward and embarrassing shit. after realizing he will talk louder thinking that it will make everyone forget. mentally curses himself panicking that he is no longer allowed to date you.
nishinoya yuu, ATSUMU MIYA, matsukawa issei, BOKUTO KOUTAROU, yamamoto taketora, OIKAWA TOORU
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haikyu-mp4 · 24 days
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Like a son
word count; 503 – f!reader, just cute stuff
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You’ve been the manager for Shiratorizawa’s volleyball team since the start of your second year, settling well into your role and even catching the attention of a certain redheaded middle blocker. Long story short, you’re now in a happy relationship with Tendo Satori, and the whole team thinks you’re a joy.
When you entered your third year, you welcomed little future ace, Goshiki, to the team. He would often need reassurance, which you and Tendo happily provided. Semi even dared compare you to being in the role of Goshiki’s parents, which the two of you found to be hilarious. It didn’t help when Goshiki accidentally called you ‘mom’ once during practice, making Tendo cover his mouth so he wouldn’t burst out laughing like the others and embarrass him even further.
This particular week, you were asked to manage the training camp they set up for promising first years. They only needed you the first day, to make sure everyone settled in smoothly, and on the days where the third years came over to have a practice match. So you happily agreed to help in exchange for some perks that Washijo simply had to approve. They have a pretty good budget, after all.
On the first day, you caught the attention of many of the attendants with your gorgeous looks and fun demeanour.
“Hey, what was your name?” one of the taller players asked, coming up to you with an innocent smile. Koganegawa, you think his name was.
However, you didn’t get to answer before Goshiki was shielding you from the guy, arms stretched out as if protecting you. “Get away! She has a boyfriend!” he yelled, making all the others turn and look, some snickering. Poor Koganegawa wasn’t even trying to hit on you.
You pat his shoulder and step to his side as he lowers his arms. “And my name is y/n. Make the most of your training, boys!” you cheered with a bright smile before turning away to go fill up more water bottles and make sure the ball boys had all the information they needed. Later, Goshiki was a blushing mess when some of the attendants asked if he was your boyfriend, denying it nervously as if he had done Tendo wrong somehow.
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When you left practice that evening, after a loud thank you from all the boys, you skipped over to your boyfriend’s dorm to tell him how sweet it was to see your son protect you from the other first years. Tendo could not stop laughing and asked Wakatoshi if he heard your story as well, hugging you close as he felt overwhelmed with his affection for you.
So when Tendo and the other third years came into the gym for a practice match, you bet Goshiki would hear the praises from his senpai. Tendo ruffled his hair and thanked him for taking such good care of you, and the spark in the younger boy’s eyes was just precious.
Oh, how he’ll weep when you two graduate.
masterlist
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himbofan · 2 years
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shy shiratorizawa manager
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thank you lovely anon for this request!! sorry it took so long i got carried away lol
no beta read we die like daichi
cw: gn reader, manager reader, reader is shorter than ushijima, fluff
characters: most of shiratorizawa's starting lineup
word count: 1k
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Coach Washijou was intimidating in a manner disproportionate to his size, and simply put, he terrified you. He had already dealt with past managers only joining the team to flirt with team members, so he was even more tense than usual. It felt like every move was being watched and calculated to make sure you were adequate enough to manage the great Shiratorizawa volleyball team.
However, the coach was only one of the scary obstacles you had to face. The captain was another scary wall looming over you, despite him never saying anything to you besides ‘Thanks’ and ‘Hello’. The rest of the team was plenty intimidating as well, with most of them towering over you effortlessly. 
You made it a point to remain as stoic and professional as possible during practice to seem cool and calculating, never wanting to run the risk that you might be perceived as childish. Tendou often tried to poke at you with remarks and jokes, trying to lighten your serious demeanor. Although you appreciated his attempts, you simply smiled politely and continued on your way. 
“What’s their deal? Am I getting worse at jokes or something?” Tendou chuckled, leaning against the scoreboard casually. 
Leon took a swig of his water bottle before responding, “Nah I don’t think that’s it, they’re probably just shy, I mean we’re not the friendliest looking bunch.” his gaze trailed over to where you were hastily picking up volleyballs around the gym. 
Semi came up from behind Leon and slapped a hand on Tendou’s shoulder. “You’ll get a reaction soon enough, positive or otherwise.”
The redhead scoffed and shook his head, “What kind of encouragement is that..” 
Their conversation was cut short by the coach’s booming voice yelling your name. 
The boys watched curiously as you scurried quickly across the gym to the small man. “Yes, sir?”
“I have some paperwork I need to finish so I’ll be in my office, just start cleaning up if I don’t come back by the end of practice.” he stated gruffly as he rose from the bench. 
You bowed as he turned towards the door and made his way out, silently relieved that you would get a break from his stern gaze. The team was instructed to practice serves for the rest of the day by the other coaches.
You took a deep sigh and closed your eyes. It was as if a hot spotlight that had been searing you for the whole day suddenly turned off. 
The team practiced their serves in two groups, taking turns due to the sheer number of members. You passed out water bottles to the group currently taking a break, which included the starting lineup players. 
Tendou spotted his window of opportunity, sauntering over to you with a pun brewing in his head. 
“(l/n)!”
You turned to see the middle blocker jogging over to you with a grin on his face. Subtly straightening your back to look more professional, you responded “Yes? Did you need something?” 
Tendou shook his head, “Nah, just wanted to chat.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, “Oh, um okay.”
He chuckled at your shy demeanor, “Anyway, I have a joke for you; when did the-”
He failed to finish his sentence before being slammed in the back of the head with a stray serve, leaving Tendou bent over in pain with his hands on his head.
A terrified looking first year stood trembling on the other side of the court while his friends were trying to hold back from cackling.
Tendou snapped up with a hand covering the back of his head, violently turning around to see who the culprit was. “Oi! Whoever did that is gonna pay!” he snapped.
You stood bewildered for a second before bursting out into uncontrollable laughter, hands moving to cover your mouth as you doubled over. 
The third year turned back to you with a surprised look on his face, bewitched by your full smile and laughter. In fact, the whole team
You noticed he was staring and quickly started panicking, “I’m so so sorry for laughing, it just surprised me and-” 
He cut you off, waving his hand with a smile, “No no it’s fine I’m not upset at you at all! But I can’t lie, that made me totally forget the joke.”
You giggled, and Tendou swore his heart skipped a beat when he saw your smile.
The rest of the team began to clamor around the redhead, making sure he was fine before continuing practice. 
“Damn, our manager actually has emotions.” Semi stated with his eyebrows raised. 
Leon lightly elbowed him in the ribs, “Don’t be rude, I told you they’re just shy.”
They looked over to see you handing a water bottle to Goshiki with a warm smile while he sputtered out “thank you” with a reddened face.
Shirabu rolled his eyes and crossed his arms at the first year’s reaction, “I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”
Tendou smirked, “Yeah right, I saw your water bottle totally miss your mouth ‘cause you were staring so hard.”
The setter was unable to retort, the tips of his ears growing red at the middle blocker’s observation.
Meanwhile on the other side of the gym, you were finishing passing out water bottles to the team, ending with the captain. Handing off the drink to the intimidating ace, you immediately turned to leave before being interrupted by a call of your name. “(l/n).”
You turned with wide eyes, “Yes?”
Ushijima looked down at you with piercing hazel eyes as he spoke in a slightly (like, extremely subtly) softer tone. “You look good when you’re smiling.”
You felt heat growing across your face as you desperately tried to find a response, while the tall boy simply walked away. 
From then on, you allowed your smile to slip out a little more around the team. Tendou was very appreciative of your newfound expressiveness, trying to make you laugh all the time to see that pretty smile. Everyone already liked you but now they love you, their precious manager. <3
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satorisoup · 3 months
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“NUH UH” OR “YUH HUH” ?
*ft haikyuu boys
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ᰔ “NUH UH!!”
bokuto. oikawa. shoyo. goshiki. nishinoya.
ᰔ “YUH HUH.”
atsumu. kuroo. tendou. kageyama. semi.
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yukimiyaz · 1 year
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ANGELS GO TO FRAT PARTIES
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goshiki tsutomu x gn!reader
includes: college au. the boys are in a gray. (unknowing) mutual pining. goshiki is totally smitten. reader is cheeky and a flirt. parties/alcohol. they are tipsy but not drunk.
notes: one of my most favorite things i’ve ever written. idk
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Goshiki feels a little bit stupid.
Or maybe that’s just all the blood rushing out of his head from being flipped back upright after doing his keg stand. He sways a bit on his feet, swiping at his chin with the back of his hand and half-assedly accepting the high fives and pats on the back from the people around him. Their cheers are all drowned out though, fading in with the music blasting over the speakers. He doesn’t care about their praise for once, doesn’t give it any mind at all.
No, he’s too focused on you, walking away from the spectacle. His eyes trail after you and watch as you disappear into the sea of the crowd and get engulfed by the multitude that’s crammed into his frat’s basement. He doesn’t understand what you do to him; it’s like you’ve got a rope wrapped around his throat that keeps him close and near. He follows after you, even now, pushing past sweaty bodies and touchy couples by the trail of your image just a few yards ahead, making your way up the stairs. He curses under his breath when someone bumps into him and knocks him off his path, frowns when some idiots making out get right in his way of the steps. He needs to follow you, he has to. It doesn’t make sense.
Goshiki feels stupid, and dumb, and—fuck, maybe a little bit crazy because he shouldn’t even be looking at you at all. You didn’t come here with him, you never come here with him. He’s not the person who’s invited you.
You’ve been Ushijima’s plus one to frat parties for as long as Goshiki can remember. 
He recalls his first “small friendly gathering” at his frat very well. Wide eyed and new and wanting to prove himself to all of his older frat brothers. There was so much going on, so much he didn’t see at the select few parties he’d attended in highschool. More beer, less clothes, a (nearly) complete lack of human decency. It was so much—too much, almost.
And that’s when he saw you.
You, with a hand held up to your mouth to shield the giggles that were fumbling out over someone’s—Tendou’s, he thinks, based on the cheeky grin on his face—joke. You, with jeans that fit you well and your hair done so nicely and your eyes that glittered under the pulse of the LED’s Semi had strung up. You, with a soft smile and magnetizing pull and gentle tip of your head.
You, with your hand wrapped around Ushijima’s bicep as you leaned into his side. 
He’d known his former captain for years prior, having gone to high school together and keeping in touch even after his graduation, up until this point. And nowhere, not once in that time frame, had Goshiki ever seen someone other than the ace’s best friend touch him as freely as you did. 
It sent him to an abrupt standstill, faltering his steps as he walked over to the group. He’s not entirely sure that he would’ve been able to say anything worthwhile to you regardless (pretty people sort of make his tongue feel like lead in the base of his mouth) but any chance of him even attempting to flirt with you went out the window in that exact moment. He kept walking, cursing every god above for Semi having noticed him and waving him over. You’d followed his friend’s gaze, met his through the dim lighting of the living room. 
His breath had never left his lungs so fast before.
It had ached then, the way that your eyes pierced right through him while simultaneously melting him at the edges. It burned, the heat licking up the back of his neck as you gave him a little bow of your head while being introduced. All he got was your name—and maybe your major, your year, too, he thinks—but nothing explaining your connection to the man whom you seemed so comfortable with.
He felt guilty for even looking at you. Because, sure, while no one had blatantly come out and said you were off limits, said you were under some sort of relationship umbrella with Ushijima Wakatoshi, he still felt that pressure there—the implication. 
Even after that short (and he’s sure very awkward—on his end at least) encounter, you were always so… sweet to him. Bright smiles when you passed each other on the way to class and waves when you’d see each other around campus. Sitting down between him and the ace when your caf times seemed to align and bumping his shoulder when you’d stand beside him in idle conversation. You’re nice, he gathers; to him at least. Then again, maybe it’s just because every time he looks at you he sees a halo and white feathered wings.
But the effect you have on him is anything but angelic.
He wouldn't call it sinful, because that word sounds so wrong when being used to describe you, but the pull you have over him feels like he’s sold his soul. It’s like a moth drawn to a flame; he knows that he shouldn’t get so close but he just can’t help himself, every fear of being burnt discarded in favor of admiring a flicker of your beauty. Every time he thinks he has a grip on it, on this hold you have so tightly on him, all it takes is one glimpse of you and he’s suddenly defenseless. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth, until all of time stops, if you’d let him. 
Or out of his frat’s basement, at the very least. 
Goshiki chews on the inside of his cheek as he takes the steps two at a time, treading over discarded solo cups and weaving past people who treat the stairs like a seat. For a fleeting second the thought of him being forced to clean this all up with the rest of the freshman and sophomores tomorrow morning slips into his mind, but it’s gone a second after as he catches the last glimpse of you retreating from the opening of the stairs.
It’s quieter up here, it always is. While some (most) people tend to stay downstairs and get shitfaced and enjoy the ragers his frat hosts, others dwindle their way into the frat’s main floor living room. Mostly upperclassmen, the occasional designated driver waiting for their “responsibility” to get tired enough to go home, or the ones who just don’t like loud music and pushy people. 
(Tsutomu’s not entirely sure where he falls in on that list, because there isn’t a “following the prettiest person at the party around like a puppy” category, but maybe it's somewhere around the doesn’t like pushy people bullet.)
His eyes flit around the room he walks in, taking in the scene and attempting to swallow down the slight throb in his head. There’s a few people scattered around the room, from his frat and others; Semi’s messing with the small speaker in the floor and waving off Tendou’s song requests, the Miya twins are bickering on the loveseat with Sakusa (begrudgingly, based on how deep his scowl is) squished between them, Kyoutani and Tsukki are laughing at a passed out Kogane in the corner, Hinata’s entertaining a group of a few more by seeing how long he can balance a beer can on his forehead from his spot on the arm of Kageyama’s recliner. And lastly, but nowhere near least, you.
Quite frankly, anyone could have guessed where you’d make a beeline for after your trek up from the chaos downstairs, and he isn’t an exception. There you sit, pretty as ever, right next to Shiratorizawa’s former ace on the couch. The seat beside you is open, and it’s evil, truly, how you catch his eye just as he notices and pat at the cushion in an open invitation.
And Goshiki is so, so stupid—for you, most definitely—that his feet move before his brain can tell him not to. 
“Hey,” you beam just as he sits down, shifting to face him even with the arm Ushijima has thrown around your shoulder. He tries not to look at it, attempts to focus on your eyes instead and hopefully keep his own from trailing down to your lips. A hopeless feat, probably. “Saw you beat Bokuto. It was cool.”
There’s a lilt to your voice, a certain crinkle to your eyes as you smile at him that has his stomach bubbling in a way he can’t blame on the alcohol. He breathes out a shaky chuckle, rubs at the back of his neck while he nods. 
“Yeah, I guess I was pretty cool,” he agrees, then feels his cheeks heat up from a mix of slight embarrassment and fear of being too cocky. (When he’s ever tried to watch his pride before, he can’t recall, but it’s like he can’t help but want to filter it around you). “I mean, he did do like, four before that one, so. You know. I was probably just lucky with an advantage because of.. that..”
And as if the heavens want to punish him, you laugh. Light and airy behind your hand just like the first time he ever saw you, shoulders bouncing with a slight shake under Ushijima’s arm. Goshiki can’t help but laugh too; everything about you is just so contagious, addicting. He swears he could drink you up and get far more wasted than liquor could ever dream of making him. It nearly makes him sick—in the best way.
“You know, you’re pretty cute when you ramble, Tsu.” It’s a bit teasing, your tone, and it has a lump forming in Goshiki’s throat. 
You’re just being nice, he tries to convince himself, slow down the heartbeat throbbing erratically in his ears, you’re being friendly and sweet and kind like you always are, that’s it. 
But, god, he hates the way that nickname rolls so easily off your tongue. He’s never been given a nickname before, not a serious one, anyhow. (Because, no, Tendou calling him Baby Ace since the day he joined their team in high school absolutely does not count, no matter how much the redhead tries to claim that it does). And yet, you gave him one so freely. You were never one for formalities, he realized. In fact he doesn’t think he’s ever heard you add an honorific to anyone’s name unless they were your professor. Most people would find it disrespectful—rude—but when it comes from you it’s just.. endearing. Fuck, it’s so endearing.
“Yeah, sure,” he waves off, attempts to, at least. The lights aren’t as dim up here as they are downstairs, but he hopes that it’s still dark enough you can’t see the red pooling in the apples of his cheeks. 
“I’m serious!” you defend, another laugh trailing on the end of your rebuttal. The influx of your giggles, the inability to hold them back, Goshiki wonders if you’re a bit tipsy too. “It’s cute!”
“What’s cute?”
The universe must hate him, that has to be it. He blinks through his slightly hazy vision and looks over to the other man on the couch. For a moment he’d almost forgotten he was even there, but the way he leans in now, chest pressing to your side as he tries to get close enough to hear you both clearly over the thumping downstairs, makes his presence impossible not to notice.
Goshiki opens his mouth to rush out an answer; the couple snuggled up in the corner, a video he showed you on his phone, hell he’d even blurt out fucking puppies if it kept him from admitting what you said. Because you and Ushijima are… you know, right? And that would be—that’d be awkward wouldn’t it? To just say that? And he isn’t scared of his former ace, there’s absolutely no way, but he also isn’t too keen on getting a black eye. So he tries to rush something out over the clumsiness of his tongue, tries to save himself the decking of a lifetime, but. 
“Tsutomu’s rambling. It’s really cute, don’t you think?”
God, do you want him to die? Is that it?
Small is not a word that one would normally use to describe Goshiki; with athletically broad shoulders and a six foot one frame that’s nothing but strategically bulked muscle, he’s honestly quite big. But he feels about two inches tall with Ushijima’s gaze focused on him, dark olive eyes pinning him in his seat and making that lump you planted in his throat grow like a watermelon seed. He can’t swallow, or breathe, or think at all really. Other than the thought that this is where he gets bloodied into a pulp because your honeyed tongue lured him right into a vicious bear trap.
So he waits. And waits. And… waits. For something, anything—a fist to his jaw, mostly—to come from Ushijima. Yet it all seems to be benign, because the only thing he gets from his longtime friend is a deep hum.
“Sure, yes,” Wakatoshi nods thoughtfully, seriously, and Tsutomu isn’t sure if the weight on his chest is letting up or getting worse by hearing the rumble of his voice. “Cute. Tendou uses that word to describe him frequently.”
From somewhere to his right, Goshiki can hear the redhead in question whining out a ‘It’s Satori, you dumb Miracle Boy,’ followed by Ushijima nodding in acknowledgement with a muffled ‘Apologies’ right after. And he—he doesn’t understand.
“See! Even Toshi agrees.” And you sound so excited, so proud of yourself that you have his opinion to back you up. You lift your hand up, raise it to his cheek and pinch the heated skin there. “Very cute.”
The way Goshiki nearly chases after the ghost of your touch as your hand pulls away is embarrassing, or it would be if anyone had picked up it. He wants to respond to you, he really does, but his mouth has never felt more dry. There’s a half empty plastic cup on the ottoman in front of him; he doesn’t have a clue who it belongs to but he’s tempted to chug down the rest of it regardless. He’s pretty sure that he’s a smidge too sober to be going through this right now.
“Thanks,” he settles on. Croaks out past the frog in his throat as his hands tense up on the tops of his thighs. His jeans suddenly feel uncomfortable, the collar of his shirt a bit too tight. God, did it just get even hotter in here? 
“You–” And he nearly winces as he chokes up on himself. “Y-You’re cute too. Pretty! You’re… really pretty.”
Your lips curl up at the edges and hook straight into Goshiki’s heart. A tip of your head and a crease to the two edges of your eyes is all it takes to have his world shifting, tilting on its axis with him suddenly grappling to cling on. Is it the blinking of the LEDs or do your eyes always sparkle like this?
(He’s ready and willing to believe it’s the latter, given the chance.)
“Thank you.” Your smile grows wider—if that’s even humanly possible. (But Tsutomu doesn’t think it is, which he only uses as further evidence for his hypothesis that you must be a creature from the heavens). “You’re always such a sweetheart, Tsu.”
He grins and dips his head in a weak attempt to shield the tint on his cheeks deepening. “No, not really,” he mumbles, and by the look on your face he can tell you’re straining to hear him. But your smile is just as soft, your gaze just as kind. He really can’t help himself. “Hey, I was, uh, wondering–”
Hoops and hollers drift up the staircase and are trailed by the owners of them directly after. Terushima is leading what looks like a drunken and wobbly conga line up the steps and into the living room, effectively upping the volume and drowning out the tail end of Goshiki’s sentence as they weave around in haphazard circles. 
“What?” You try to ask, but he can barely hear you now, even with your voice elevated.
He tries to talk again, attempts to start his sentence over, but gives up when he sees that look of apparent confusion on your pretty face. Alone time, is what he wanted to ask for, as simple or awkward as it may be. But as Terushima trips over his shoe and Taketora all but falls into his lap and he has to shove him off, he thinks he should’ve just been grateful for getting to speak to you on the cramped couch instead.
You shift in your seat, turning away from him, and he thinks you’ve finally grown bored. He watches as you turn to Ushijima, raise up to get your mouth right next to his ear. You’re probably asking him to switch spots with you, maybe you really were just trying to play it nice earlier. Wakatoshi nods to you, then meets Goshiki’s eyes from across the couch before retracting his arm from around your shoulder. Maybe it was too soon to be thanking god for saving him from a decking earlier. 
But instead of Ushijima getting up, or moving you over to swap seats, you turn to face him again. Your mouth is moving, but Goshiki can’t hear you. Jesus Christ these idiots are too fucking loud. He taps his ear, tries to shout over the noise that he can’t understand a word you’re saying.
His heart skips a solid four beats when you wrap your hand around his bicep and lean in. Suddenly your breath is tickling his ear, not Ushijima’s. Chills have never wound around his spine quite like this before.
“I’m gonna go catch a breather. Do you wanna come?”
And Goshiki might be stupid, but he isn’t dumb enough to deny a miracle that’s been placed directly into his hands. 
“Yeah!” he shouts instantly, nodding his head like a backup in case you couldn’t hear him. 
He’s quick to follow your lead when you stand up, not wanting to chance having to deal with losing you in the crowd. The chance he’s so worried about isn’t quite given to him though, because before you even take a step you’re grabbing his hand. He tells himself you’re only being polite—the same mantra he’s been repeating over and over in his head since the day he first met you—that you, too, are just trying to prevent either of you getting lost in the hopeless abyss of sweaty bodies. 
Your fingers squeeze his, you throw a smile over your shoulder at him, and Goshiki knows, immediately, at that moment. 
He’s a fucking goner. 
Step by step you lead him through the living room, hand gripping tighter when a fumbling Kuroo threatens to bump you apart and his chest hitting your back when you have to stop midstep to let Daichi and Asahi drag a slurring Suga through. Goshiki strains to hear your giggles as you point and laugh at the scene of Iwaizumi holding a whining and crying Oikawa down so Mattsun can write on his face with a sharpie while Makki records. (He’ll get that video for you later, if it means it’ll make you laugh again.) He sees you coo at the sight of Yamaguchi retying Yachi’s hair for her as you turn the corner, and watches how your eyebrows shoot up at the view of Tanaka proposing to Kiyoko for the fifth time tonight. Then, finally, the two of you reach the patio door. You drop his hand as you slide it open and step through, and Goshiki has to struggle to restrain himself from trying to reach out and grab it again. He shuts the door behind himself, the sound on the other side muffling to a dull hum instantly. 
“Ah,” you sigh, shoulders visibly slumping as you take in a deep breath. Walking to the edge of the patio, you hop up onto the railing, letting your feet dangle as you look to Goshiki. “That’s better. I could hardly hear myself think in there.”
Your laugh comes out in puffs, the remnants of winter causing nights like this to plummet the temperatures. The shirt you showed up in has proven unfit to match against the chill, and yet you don’t complain; just rub at your upper arms with your palms subtly. But Goshiki notices (as he does with everything about you) and more importantly he is a gentleman—to you, at least—and lives up to that now as he tugs his jacket off and steps up to wrap it around your shoulders. 
“Oh, no, you don't have to. You’ll get cold,” you protest, attempting to slip it back off even though Tsutomu can see your sough of relief at the added layer. His hands stop you, keep the jacket around your shoulders, and he shakes his head. 
“I’m fine.” And he can’t help but smile at the way you pout slightly. “I’d rather you were warm than me, anyways.”
He watches as you, begrudgingly at first, start to slip your arms in the sleeves. But as your hands pass through that easy grin finds its way back to the curve of your lips, and you sink into the warmth of Goshiki’s jacket as the sleeves pool over the tips of your fingers. 
“Well thank you. You really are just a big sweetheart, huh?”
And, fuck, the way everything you say to him goes straight to his head; it can’t be natural. He’s used to feeding off the compliments of others, clinging to the words of praise thrown his way and piling up the trophies of astonishments to show he belongs to the best of the best. But with you, it's different. With you, it’s like it doesn't just inflate his head but his heart also. Like you’re trying to make it big enough for you to fit yourself inside, carve out a space for you to crawl right in and make yourself at home.
Or maybe Goshiki’s doing that all by himself.
You affect him—change him, whenever you are around. It’s been the case all night and it’s been the case everyday before now, there’s something about you that warps Tsutomu’s traits. Fissures the molds he’s taken so long to create and breaks the habits he thought would be instilled for the rest of his life. It makes him hold his tongue, swallow his brags, put a blanket over his normally unwavering pride. You make him quiet. Humble. Soft.
So maybe that’s why he lets his shoulders fall now, drops his broad stance and proper posture. Maybe that’s why he blows out a sigh and doesn’t pay any mind to the way the little cloud fogs up between you two. Maybe that’s why his tongue grows lax and his guard cracks open, to bear himself to you fully on the back patio of his frat house.
“No, I’m really not,” he admits, despite that voice in the back of his head calling him a fool for trying to ruin this image you have of him. Perhaps it’s the smidge of alcohol in his system that gives him the strength to quiet it down (and is the cause for his admittance), he’s not sure. “I just don’t want Ushijima to kill me if you get sick.”
Another laugh bubbles through you, gentle and light, but it fades too quick and ends too soon as you notice there isn’t a single trace of a jest on Goshiki’s features. You open your mouth to ask him what he means by that, why he looks so serious all of the sudden, but before you can, he continues.
“You think–you think I’m this really nice guy.” His eyebrows are furrowed together, you want to reach forward and smooth the crease between them out. “You think I’m just good and nice and–and a sweetheart. But I’m not. I yell at the other guys in the morning when I trip over their shoes and I act like I’m better than everyone at practice and I make fun of them when they can’t get plays down right on the first try.”
He doesn’t know why he’s telling you this, he hates that he’s telling you this. In his mind, he knows that this will be it; that you’ll hear him admit all these things like a sinner at a confessional and never want to look at him again. But he just.. he can’t stop.
“I think I deserve to be on top just because I’m me and I only actually respect people when they’ve fully beaten me on something. And the only exception to that ever has been— god, it's you! I can’t even be mad or hate you about it because you’re just so.. So fucking perfect and it drives me crazy. You drive me crazy. I can’t go a single second without thinking about you or what you said to me that day or the shirt you were wearing the last time you came over. And that’s the worst part, you don't even come over for me!”
His eyes are burning and he isn’t sure if it's because there are tears threatening his lash line or if it’s the breeze that’s making them sting. He feels so entirely overwhelmed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He can’t even look up at you.
“You–you’re Ushijima’s! And he’s my friend! I have so much respect for him and here I am festering some stupid crush on you like some dumb little kid. You say I’m sweet but there’s nothing sweet about the way I’m thinking about you, I really have to be sick in the head or something because I'm not even actually sorry. God, Ushijima would kill me if he knew I was saying any of this to you, let alone if he found out I was in love with you! I’m—”
The realization hits Goshiki a little too late for him to catch his tongue. The breath stills in his lungs and his heartbeats follow suit. You haven’t said anything, not a single word, and it does nothing to help the fact that he feels like a dead man walking. 
Timidly, and ever so slowly, he dares to raise his head, lift his gaze up to meet yours. Goshiki has never been one to admit to being scared, but right now the fear of what he’ll be met with is damn near bubbling over. A split second, a fraction of a sliver of time is all he gets to try to catch a glimpse of your expression before suddenly there are two hands cupping his face and yanking him forward and–
You’re kissing him, on his frat’s back patio. 
He has to shoot his hands out to grab onto the railing to catch himself, your knees spreading and his body slotting right in between them. He can’t think straight, his mind is all but fizzling out and spitting smoke out of his ears as your lips mold against his in a way he thought he could only ever dream about. Kissing back seems like a far cry, and something he doesn’t quite get the chance to do because all too soon you’re pulling back and your breath is fanning over his heated cheeks.
“You’re so fucking stupid,” you breathe, arms sliding to wrap around his neck and heels resting against the back on his thighs. It’s almost jolting, hearing something like that coming out of your pretty little mouth, but Goshiki doesn’t even attempt to wrap his head around it. “Toshi isn’t my boyfriend , our parents are friends. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers.”
“O-Oh,” Goshiki chokes, knuckles nearly white from his grip on the rail. “So you aren’t– You don’t– You and him–”
“No, never.” Your dismissal is instant, your head shaking from side to side. “Not like that. Besides, the only reason I come around so much is because of a certain guy in his frat.”
You’re smiling again. Goshiki still can’t breathe. He thinks you want to kill him.
“Really?” 
“Mhm, really,” you hum, and he’s curious if you know you’re tugging him in closer or if it’s completely accidental. “He’s very cute, dark eyes and these absolutely adorable dimples. Gets all rambly when he’s tipsy. I think I could listen to him talk about himself all day. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he’s got pretty nice muscles.”
“Ah,” Goshiki exhales, follows you as tease him by continuing to lean back. “He sounds very.. Uhm..”
“Yes?” You taunt, grin in a way that is absolutely anything but innocent, and he doubts his hypothesis of you for a moment, contemplates the odds that maybe your wings are dipped in a touch of sin afterall. “Very what, Tsu?”
He’s stuck marveling, drinking in the sight of you on the railing before him. Leaned back like this, the night sky becoming a perfectly displayed backdrop, you almost look ethereal. He wonders if that’s really the moon hanging above you, because at first glance he could swear it’s the glow of a halo circling the crown of your alluring little head. Moonlight’s never looked so good painting someone’s skin as it does yours, he’s sure of it. It soaks you up and pools in your irises and Goshiki is so, so willing to drown. 
“Pretty,” he says breathlessly, warrantlessly, and he’s so in love with you. “God, you’re so pretty. Can I.. I just.. Need to–”
You don’t have the pleasure of hearing the end of his sentence, but his actions seem to provide you with enough implication to connect the dots. Because suddenly he’s surging forward like a man who's been deprived of nectar for far too long and kissing you full and hard and right. A muffled yelp tumbles out of your mouth and into his as you lean back a bit too far, but an arm secures around you a second later, catching your weight and pulling you flush to a warm chest. Your fingers thread into the buzz at the back of his neck and his fist into the back of the jacket around you. It’s warm and good and you melt into him like honey off a comb. 
Goshiki’s never really thought about what heaven might be like, but he’s sure this has to be pretty close.
With a gasping breath you pull away, stuttering through inhales as Tsutomu tries to chase your lips, place more pecks, pull you closer like he’s offended you’d dare pull away. You laugh into his mouth, place your hands on his cheeks to keep him sated enough for you to speak. 
“I love you too, by the way. And I don’t want to stop kissing you,” you confess, causing the man’s cheeks to get impossibly warmer. You have to turn your cheek to stop him from leaning in again. “But we should probably go somewhere a bit more private. Plus, my hands are freezing.”
Goshiki nods, but his eyes are hazy in a way you’re not entirely sure he even knows what you’re saying. “Y-Yeah,” he agrees, nonetheless, and allows you to push him back a step so you can slide down from the railing. “Okay.”
Your giggles make him feel dizzy, and he doesn’t even care if he’s making a fool of himself because you’re leaning up to kiss him again. Giving him a peck, and two, and three, as you take steps backwards and slide the patio door open. The sound envelopes the two of you instantly, drowns out your laughs in a way Goshiki hates but drowns out his thoughts in a way he loves-; a way that allows him to only focus on you. 
Neither of you catch them, the two men huddled up and pressed along the wall by the patio door looking like two peeping toms trying not to get caught. Ushijima and Tendou watch as you lead Goshiki up the stairs with your hands in his and his jacket slipping from his shoulders, a peck and string of giggles after every step. Tendou cheers, Ushijima smiles, and they clink their beers together before watching you two disappear down the hallway.
The thumps grow duller and the lights less tinted as you lead Goshiki down the hall with a trail of kisses, laughing into his neck when his arms start to snake around you. You count the doors as you pass—two, three, four—until you get to his bedroom. A hand on the knob, you push the door (and your luck) and by grace it opens. Goshiki’s feet are frozen as he watches you, easy grin on your lips as his jacket falls onto the floor. You walk around his room, skimming your fingers over his dresser, lazily sifting by the clothes in his closet, until you wind up at his bed. It’s sharp, how the breath gets punched out of him as you take your seat on the edge of it. You don’t say anything, you don’t have to, you just hold your hand out to him with a smile as sweet as sin.
And as Goshiki rushes to close the door behind him, he knows he was wrong about that whole heaven thing earlier.
Because right now there’s an angel sitting on the edge of his bed, and he thinks this one night will be better than heaven is ever going to get.
176 notes · View notes
revasserium · 1 year
Note
Can you do Hc's for tsutomu, sfw and nsfw I never seen any content for him
hq!! reqs are open :) 
sfw: 
enthusiastic is perhaps not strong enough a word, but he sure is gun-ho about all! of! the! things! bc honestly, he never thought he’d get here -- never thought that the day might come where he’d actually get to hold your hand or make you laugh, or any of the million and one things he’s dreamt about doing but sweet gods in heaven, now that he’s here, he swears he’d never take it for granted -- so he smiles hard, and he laughs even harder, he goes out of his way to plan elaborate dates (that ultimately never ever quite goes as planned) but he’s okay with that too! 
bc he knows that you love him like this, like an unfinished masterpiece. where he’s the painting and you’re the brush, and his literature teacher told him he shouldn’t try too hard with the extended metaphors, but he can’t help himself. he can’t help himself when it comes to you. he’s never been able to in the first place. 
waking up way too early and jogging down your street just to look like he’s coincidentally passing by, even though you giggle and tell him that he’s sweating and out of breath so he must’ve been here for ages 
sharing food with you but no one else, because how’s he supposed to be the ace if he doesn’t get enough nutrition to grow? 
dozing off on the bus with his head on your shoulder, and sure, he’s mortified to have drooled on your school uniform, but you told him that it’s kinda cute and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. 
nsfw: 
switch!life bc real men do both. 
gasping when you suck him off, his consciousness blurring at the image of your lips stretched so perfectly over his cock, your eyes watering ever so slightly as he feels himself hit the back of your throat 
eating you out like his life fucking depends on it because. it. does. and he can never get enough of how tight your thighs get around his face, and he’s never thought there was anything ironic about the phrase “crush me with your thighs” bc yes!!! that’s what he wants!! from you!!!! 
fingering you hard and fast and dirty in the locker rooms bc you had no business looking so damn hot in his jersey, blushing so prettily, cheering him on like that; kissing you through your climax because he loves the taste of your moans on his tongue 
rly wants to do the wall sex! but the mechanics are harder than he thought! 
whining and begging when you ride him cause gods what else is there worth begging for in life other than the sight of you working yourself over his cock, the feel of your wetness slicking down his thighs, staining his bedsheets, and sure he’d literally just done the laundry yesterday but that’s what washing machines are for, right? right. 
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loveephia · 1 year
Text
you as shiratorizawa's beautiful manager.
content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, shiratorizawa is scary, reader is intimidated, she wants to go home, one scene is a reference to shiratorizawa antics on ao3 (one of my favorite fics!!!).
⚠ warning/s: none.
inarizaki ver. | nekoma ver. | fukurodani ver. | aoba johsai ver.
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h...
hhahaHHahahahHAHAHAHAHA
if shiratorizawa was a circus, you'd be the star of the show :3
coach washijo was skeptical about letting you manage the team since girls would normally just try to shoot their shot with the players
BUT NAH. IF ANYTHING, YOU'RE MORE SCARED THAN IN LOVE.
THOSE BOYS ARE 6FT AND ABOVE. 6FT BEING THE MINIMUM HEIGHT. ARE YOU KIDDING ME???(#?$($
that's a joke shirabu is 5'8"
but round it off to the tenth place and you get 6ft BOOM MATH
you introduced yourself and did your duties properly, trying desperately not to make a FOOL OF YOURSELF.
you were most comfortable around goshiki, honestly
he was your cute underclassmen who craved validation!!
me too
AHEM ANYWAYyy
when you complimented him on his skills in volleyball, bro was over the moon
AND IT'S COMING FROM YOU?? THEIR PRETTY MANAGER?@?@?
he slipped, tripped, did a flip, and malfunctioned on the spot
"is he dead?" shirabu asked
tendō poked at his leg with a stick he found outside, "nope!
...
i think"
moving on,,
shirabu is actually your classmate
he doesn't know why you're doing this to yourself you joined the team, but he doesn't question it
tendō likes to crack jokes with you every now and then, you got comfortable with him pretty quickly too
ushijima is scary. you steered clear of him.
everyone else is too stoic and intimidating to interact with, so you don't have an opinion on them
until late at night in the shiratorizawa common room, they did the spicy ramen challenge.
man. shiratorizawa sure was scary on the court, but once you get to know them, they're an uNHINGED GROUP.
YOU WERE JUST TRYING TO STUDY???
there's kawanishi laughing hysterically at the scene before him
goshiki passed out with drool in the corner of his mouth
semi sweating bullets while trying to eat the remaining noodles
tendō running around the common room to take his mind off the spice
hayato banging his head against the table, already regretting his first bite
ushijima looking PERFECTLY FINE AFTER EATING FOUR CUPS OF 3x SPICY RAMEN.
reon coming back with the milk (he was responsible enough not to join.)
and shirabu who made a mental bet with himself that ushijima would win
what. did. you. sign. up. for.
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© lowercase intended | loveephia
1K notes · View notes
lowkeyremi · 1 year
Text
A lil drabble cuz its my baby's birthday (HAPPY BDAY TENDOU!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️)
He gives this sweetest hugs. They’re just absolutely perfect, it’s always like ur hugging a very soft pillow.
The reason for his delicate hugs is that he wants you to feel all the love he didn’t get the pleasure to experience growing up.
My sweet redhead boy was bullied cuz of his cute little bowl cut. I’m a firm believer that he didn’t receive many hugs and it made him so sad cuz all the other kids got to hug each other
:((
don’t fret though, he’s the world’s best hugger. Does it unconsciously, he will just come up to you and wrap his arms around you and it makes him feel like he’s protecting you.
OH LORD AND HE RUBS UR BACK TOO >>>>>>
“I missed you, baby.” He whispered into your ear as you hug him tight. He hugs right back making sure to rub soft circles into your back.
Such a cuddler. He never wants to let you go and physically dreads having to be away from your warmth. And tbh you feel the same way.
Sometimes when he's hugging you he'll start ranting abt how bad his day was and how your hugs have restored him.
He doesn't care if u two are in public. He'll pull u into his lap and snuggle u.
"You don't get it tendou-san! he was so-" goshiki cut himself off. he was a lil shocked when tendou grabbed ur wrist and pulled you into his lap. his nose was buried in your neck and you smiled.
"Sorry bout him, goshiki. go ahead n continue."
When ur in a bad mood he brings u his homemade chocolate and u two watch movies.
Idc what anyone says, tendou's main love language is physical contact/affection.
Sometimes he'll strip just for the purpose of feeling his skin on yours, its not even sexual. he just wants to love on u
That's a wrap, just wanted to write something for my baby's bday
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TENDOU ❤️❤️
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toomanygoldfish · 29 days
Note
Okay, I'll send in three requests that will vary a little so you can get a feel. Now, keep in mind that you can do whatever you want with this, I will never be disappointed, it's just a means to share creativity.
How about this prompt:
"Don′t wanna sleep 'cause we′re dreaming out loud"
but with Goshiki? He's got plenty of big dreams, calling himself the Ace as a first year. I doubt he let go of that after high school
I saw the prompt and immediately thought about a million dreams from the greatest showman.
You make a lot of promises when you are a kid. Most of those promises are forgotten and left in your fondest memories.
standing on the edge of the playground in 4th grade, watching bugs crawl over the wood chips placed in front of them is where this promise was made.
“hey, [Name]? Will you follow me when I become an astronaut?” Goshiki looked at you with a rather intense gaze for a 10 year old.
“Of course! I’ll follow you to wherever the world takes us!” You giggle at him then go back to the bugs.
——— 4 years later ———
that promise held true as you followed him through jr. high.
while Goshiki did not pursue becoming an astronaut, he did find volleyball. You would stay after your club had ended to walk home with him. On many nights you would end up staying on the gym with him as he drilled himself over and over again.
some nights he only left because he could see your eyes drooping, and your yawns becoming more and more frequent.
at first you couldn’t see why a sport this fast paced had enamored him, but after many late nights and you first aid kit being used more often, you finally decided to find out.
you watched hours upon hours of volleyball tapes and started to ask more questions. And to be honest you still didn’t really understand it, but you saw the way his eyes lit up when talking about it.
you saw the way that he smiled when a game component finally clicked, and the laughter that was shared between his teammates after a particularly good skirmish.
you decided that maybe you didn’t need to understand.
——— 2 years later (After losing to karasuno)———
tear tacks were still wet on his cheeks when he went looking for you. You, who was at every single game no matter where, you who was always there with a smile and a hug, and who he loved more than anything.
He found you a standing next to a water fountain, once he got your attention, you gave him a hug. He held you to his chest and shook with silent sobs.
After a while he pulled back and looked you in the eyes, and decided then and there that he didn’t want to spend another day without you.
——
it took him until the end of his first year to finally ask you out. (To which you said yes)
The whole summer was spent going on dates and having fun with each other. The usual disappointment of going back to school wasn’t there, only excitement for the new volleyball season.
At the end of the volleyball season, he gave you a promise ring. He promised that wherever you took him, that he would go, as long as he got to stay with you. You kept the ring on a necklace throughout the rest of your Highschool years.
——— 3 years later ———
in your second year of college you got offered your dream scholarship. However you were reluctant to take it, because it meant moving to another country.
you brought it up to Goshiki and it was one of the first big fights you had.
he wanted you to take it. He felt like you had encouraged him to follow his dreams as a professional volleyball player and he wanted you to follow your dreams too.
you argued that you wanted to stay with him. That your relationship with him was more important to you than any scholarship. you eventually walked out to the balcony to get some space, and after cooling down a bit, you went back inside to find him. you sat down and tried to explain it from your point of view. He was one of the most important people in your life, and that moving away might break that connection. He explained that you had done so much for him, and that he didn’t want to hold you back from achieving something great. it was a long night. And in the end you agreed that you would take the scholarship.
the night before you left for the airport you gave him a promise ring, and took yours off of the necklace and put it onto your finger. ——— 2 years later ———
Visiting each other was hard. With Goshiki progressing into his volleyball career, and you spending most of your time doing work. but you made it work. one memorable night was when Goshiki had stayed awake long after midnight to stay on the phone with you. He was quite honestly delirious and it was mostly his subconscious talking to you.
you found it hilarious. He was filling the silence with mostly meaningless babble. It was a great background noise for your studying. eventually you got bored of studying and you turned your attention to your boyfriend asking him questions and watching him put too much effort into answering it.
eventually you remember how late it is over there. “Hey lover boy, why are you still awake?”
he blinks his eyes lazily at you before slowly responding, “I don’t ‘wanna sleep when I could be dreaming out loud with you.”
you feel your heart melt at this man, who even when tired is thinking of you and wants to spend time with you. “I love you baby, but you need sleep. Good night my love”
“‘Ood night”
———
the night of your return was marked on the calendar you and Goshiki shared. However near your return date your supervisor noticed how antsy you were getting and managed to get you a return flight a week earlier. you decided not to tell Goshiki about the new flight date so you could surprise him. The first thing to do was call his teams manager to make sure that he could get a free day. and after a long call, and being put on hold for far too long, Goshiki would be free for the next day.
——— the next day ———
Goshiki has been doing a lot of things in the weeks leading up to your departure, one of which was to buy an actual engagement ring. He had bought this ring* right before practice. His plan was to propose to you right after you got out of the airport. Strangely enough when he went into practice his manager kept giving him knowing looks. He ignored it and kept practicing until the coaches called them over and cut practice short. Goshiki (who was rather confused) took the drive home. It was a fairly normal drive home with not much traffic. Until he got a text from you. ❤️My beloved❤️: will you pick up some flowers for me?
❤️My beloved❤️: I ordered them already all you need to do is pick them up. Thank you 😊
Me: sure, send me the address
❤️My beloved❤️: thank you 😘
——— a few minutes later ———
Goshiki walked into the store, only to pause when he saw you. “…[Name]?” He looks at you, then rubs his eyes to make sure you are real. “Goshiki!” You run to him and hug him. “How, How are you here?”
“they let me go a few days early, and I came to surprise you!”
Goshiki fumbled around his pockets for something. He seems to find it quickly but looks up nervously. “you good there Goshiki?”
“yes! Yes I am, um this isn’t how I wanted this to go,” he looks at you and smiles. “But you mean the world to me and I’m so happy that you came home early.”
he gets down onto one knee and pulls out the ring. “[Full Name] you are the love of my life. Will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”
“YES”
*this is the ring I was thinking of
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win-writes · 2 years
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♡₊˚.彡 ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ ɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
『✎⋯ shirabu, kawanishi, goshiki』 『♡ ⋯ fluff, gender netural reader』
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘶 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘶
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With your exams being right around the corner, you asked your boyfriend aka the smartest person you know to help you study. Truth be told, Shirabu was hesitant at first when you mentioned it. Knowing you, he was sure you'd find a way to slack off and he really didn't want to spend his evenings babysitting you instead of studying. But how could he say no to you.
And here you are, trying to keep your eyes open after 3 hours of studying in his room. You promised him that you'd finish at least one more lesson before taking a break, but your concentration was slowly giving up on you. You didn't even realize how your head was already laying on your hands on the table, until you heard Shirabu's calm voice talking to you.
"Are you tired already?", you open your eyes to meet his soft expression staring back to you. He seemed so ethereal. The way the rays of the sun setting light his face. The way his hair slowly moves by the light breeze coming from the open window. The way his delicate lips turn into a small grin while you study his face. You swore you've never seen anything more beautiful and peaceful than this. "So pretty" you whisper with all the strength you got left, before giving up to your body's need for sleep.
If only you had stayed up a little longer. You'd get to see the way his soft cheeks took a tint of pink and the way his eyes widened the moment he heard your comment. Hell, Shirabu swears you could even hear his heart beating faster than any game he ever played.
He quietly moved closer to you, carefully not to wake you up. After gently caressing your face, he leaned and placed a kiss on your temple. "Look who's talking".
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ 𝘎𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘬𝘪 𝘛𝘴𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘶
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It's been a while since the last time you got to spend time with Goshiki. His matches and regular practices didn't really help with your busy schedule, but today, you finally managed to actually spend some time with each other by holding a sleep over in your dorm. Your roomate was gone for the weekend so the timing couldn't be better.
His head rests on your chest, while your hands are gently playing with his black locks and your legs are tangled together. Goshiki didn't mind being babied every once in a while, especially tonight when he finally got to see you.
"I missed this.. I missed you so much" he finally broke the silence, looking up to you. You smile at him as you move some strands away from his eyes. You lean closer and peck his forehead, "I missed you too baby" you reply as you softly hold his face.
An hour passes and you barely moved from your spot. You didn't talk much, but the silence was so comforting; just laying there in each other's arms, cuddling away any stress you two had. The atmosphere around your boyfriend is for once peaceful, so he can't help his eyelids closing and slowly falling asleep.
Of course you take notice of his sudden lack of movement. His hands had long stopped caressing your back and its been a while since he last turned to you to ask for a kiss. You gently caress his face and kiss his cheek for what it seemed to be the 100th time today. Your lips instantly turn to a smile at his adorable sight in front of you.
"Goodnight", you whisper as you softly cuddle him closer and place another sweet his on his temple, "My pretty baby"
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ 𝘒𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘛𝘢𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘪
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Taking a walk together with Kawanishi was part of your daily routines. It was really calming for him to just take a break from his loud teammates after practice was over. And you of cource loved spending time with your boyfriend, even if all you did was taking small walks.
"Should we sit for a little? Are you sure you aren't tired?", you ask as you turn to look at Kawanishi. "Well, i guess it's not a bad idea. My legs are killing me today"
You giggled at his response, "You should have told me earlier! I don't want you to pass out on me you know". He grins mischievously as he leans closer to you, "Oh no y/n, I think my legs can't take it anymore" he groans dramatically, as he presses his whole weight onto you.
"Taichi-", before you know it, you are siting on a bench, with your boyfriend laying his head on your lap. "Much better..", he lets out a sigh, before you playfully poke his forehead, "Don't scare me like that you idiot!"
Kawanishi lets out a small laugh. Oh how you love it when he laughs. His expressions are usually dull and he doesn't show much emotion, but whenever you're together, you never fail to cherish his soft smiles and laughs.
"I know I'm irresistible baby, but you're staring a bit too much" he comments as he looks up to you. "I'm sorry, i just can't help looking at my pretty boy" Caught off guard by your compliment, Kawanishi turns his eyes away from yours, feeling his face warming up, "Pretty boy? Haha, who me?" he tries to hide how flustered he is by laughing it off.
"Of course", you gently hold his face, turning him your way. Adorning your boyfriend's reaction to your loving words, you lean closer to his face, softly kissing his lips. You pull away as you caress his blushing face, "Who else could be my pretty boy?"
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