#tsukishima kei drabbles

[mitsuyaya]

[ epiphany ] tsukishima kei

contains: 1.3k+ words. teeny angst, knight tsukki x princess reader, kind of a prologue for my knight tsukki agenda

summary: The king, his master—tsukishima believes he is just like him, wise and honest, does not tell a lie even for his own sake. Yet, during his late-night patrol an epiphany came in the form of the person his master dislike. an epiphany that his master and the people residing in the palace, is not what he thinks they are.

end note: you would be surprised by the amount of drafts I have for this particular agenda

haikyuu masterlist | wtkly masterlist

Spread far and wide, in numerous lands and kingdoms, is a valiant knight named Tsukishima Kei, who has achieved exceptional accolades, a man who is believed to be the progeny of the god of war himself and is widely known as the king's dog.

His master, to whom he devotes his utmost loyalty, is a man who leads his subordinates meticulously, metes punishment fitting for the criminals’ crime, and makes decisions that are only for the betterment of the kingdom.

Never did this faithful knight doubt his master's word, for he knew that the man he served was anything but a liar; he values honesty just like him.

But, upon knowing the second princess—the daughter his master despised wholly, the servants, and the other members of the royal family as well—he had come across an epiphany, a realization that perhaps his master wasn't the same man as he is.

The epiphany came to him in the dead of night, with stars decorating the heavens. Not a soul could be seen or felt in the gardens of the palace.

It should have been desolate and tranquil, like it always is when he goes about his late-night patrol around the palace. There should be no one but himself standing by the fountain; it should just be him admiring at the sight of the running water while he curses the one who had made this tight armor.

But to his surprise, in the somberness of the night, there sat a lady in white whose sobs filled the surrounding.

Each step he takes is with wariness, hardly putting the weight of his iron boots into the concrete, afraid that it'll leave a sound. His hand was mere inches from the handle of his sword, preparing himself in case of a sudden attack.

When he had finally taken his position at the back of the intruder, he placed his other hand on their shoulder, which earned him a jolt of surprise.

“State your name and your reason for being here this late at night.” His tone is dripping with demand, authoritative, similar to the way he interrogates the criminals he catches.

The woman in question does not utter a single word for a while; he is almost tempted to forcefully turn them around to glance at their faces until they raise their hands in defeat.

Atop his head, Tsukishima lists the names of the people he assumes to be the intruder, those who have ulterior motives against the royal family, yet none of them have been correct.

For the face of the intruder, one who was weeping by the fountain, belongs to none other than the person the king despises the most, the second princess.

“B-believe me, I do not have any ill intentions for being here. I simply wanted to be alone, and the next thing I knew, my feet had brought me here.” Not a credible justification, but for a second, he almost believed the princess's words, not until the voice and the words of his master rang in his ears.

‘The second princess is a good-for-nothing, virulent woman who has nothing except the looks and body that are nothing to be surprised of, for she is still of royal blood.’

‘The second princess is violent with her little siblings, envious of the way they are being pampered, destroying their jewelry and toys all because she wants to be the apple of everyone's eye inside the palace.’

Yet, the longer he stares at the woman who is said to be hostile, at the woman he accidentally caught crying all alone, the more this strange feeling resurfaces in his chest, smothering his train of thought.

His hold on your shoulder falls onto his side, your head still hangs low, possibly humiliated from being caught in this degrading position.

The knight clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence, “Your highness, it is very late, your father would not be pleased if he knew you were here. I suggest going back to your room.”

He expects you to put up a fight, act haughty, and push him off so you could run, just like everyone told him and just like his master warned him about.

“Thank you for your concern. I will do as you say, sir knight, but before I go, I beg of you not to say a word about this to my father.” Tsukishima thinks you are putting on an act as an obedient, benign daughter who has no flaws whatsoever. He was told that you were pretentious after all.

“You have my word, do be careful on your way back, your highness”

But in truth, he'd definitely tell your father about this. It isn't a lie he believes, it's his duty to report even trivial matters like this to his master, he's loyal to him after all. But you don't have to know that, he wouldn't say that to you outright, of course.

You bow curtly, unbefitting for a member of the royal family, but he does not tell you off, still playing out the part of a good daughter he presumes.

It was quiet, as it always has been. The princess his master warns him about, is on her way to head inside her bedroom, alone, with no guard whatsoever, at the most dangerous time of the day. Something inside his chest stirs, he can't quite decipher what it is.

Perhaps it has to do something with the chivalry code that was taught to him by his father and brother. A code that he should never let a woman walk alone, unguarded. for a knight must always think about the safety of the lady whether she is your master or not.

Tsukishima doesn't want to go against his master's warning, but he couldn't disobey his elders’ teachings as well, it's been deeply rooted in his brain, you see. So against the king's orders, he had to escort you, despised daughter or not.

You were about to round the corner when a sudden call made you halt. “For a moment, your highness!” It was the voice of the very knight who caught you crying a few minutes prior, he jogs to where you stood, standing just right in front of you.

Tsukishima is now seeing the entirety of your face; he takes note of the color of your eyes, which is similar to your father's, and your plump lips that reminds him of pomegranates but what steals his attention the most is the reddish color on your cheek, swollen. He raises his brows quizzically, pointing to your cheek, “What happened there?”

He watches as your eyes go wide, hands trying to shield your cheeks from his view. For the second time tonight, Tsukishima watches as you tremble in shock, and the corners of your eyes begin to water as if you're about to cry once more.

He wants to prod more about the red in your cheek but you have scurried away from him and run inside the palace as fast as you could, leaving the knight stunned and wondering.

Tsukishima remained there, still standing, lost in thought, dumbstruck at the way you ran away from him before he had gotten your answer.

But what really left him wondering the state you are in: a red print in your cheek as if it's been slapped, the back of your hand wounded, blood drying as if it's been hit earlier.

Surely, you'd been caught in an accident a few hours prior?

it doesn't look like an accident though.

Perhaps, this was one of your pretentious displays of being a pitiable princess, in order to steal the hearts of the people inside the palace?

It doesn't look like you did it to yourself though.

Then, if it is not. Did someone raise their hands on you?

But that's preposterous, he thinks. No one would raise their hand on you here, there wasn't anyone like that in the palace, at least that's what he likes to think.

If this isn't an accident and it wasn't an act, then who did this to you?

It wasn't the servants right? Your siblings and mother wouldn't do that either.

Even though your father dislikes you the most, surely he wouldn't do that to his daughter? Right? He isn't that kind of person, he knows it.

It isn't his master right?

As the recollection of meeting the second princess up close flashes in his mind, her actions and personality different from what other's had described—suddenly, Tsukishima isn't so sure anymore.

[solvisun]

011925. cw | slightly suggestive (?) i hate him (affectionate)

if tsukishima kei learns the full extent of you losing your mind over the minuscule of things with everything he does,

babe, you’re done for.

if he learns that removing his glasses while kissing you makes your stomach do saumersaults, or when he fixes your clothes casually; smoothing down your skirt or adjusting your shirt, hand on your waist. or when he cups your face and squeezes both of your cheeks together, when it shows that he loves the physical touch in ways that feel crude if you say it aloud. in ways that no one else can speak about, makes you so mushy with him. to the point that it makes you sick, head throbbing.

if he learns that you find his jealousy kind of attractive, all cutting and ruthless, snappy. that you're totally not weak in the knees. if he learns that whenever he leans in whenever you speak is the cause of why you feel flustered, when he hums softly in question, tilting his head, or when he just hook you in his arms to get closer.

god. he will take absolute pleasure in pushing those buttons even more—actually, he’d press them with the precision of someone who knows exactly how far he can go to leave you reeling, all while pretending it’s no big deal.

and this is exactly what happens, as expected, but no less frustrated.

when he realizes how much removing his glasses during a kiss messes you up, he’d start doing it slow and methodical, taking his time to set them aside while giving you that piercing look, like he knows exactly what’s coming next. “what, nervous?” he’d ask, leaning in just a fraction, his tone laced with mockery, but his lips soft when they finally meet yours.

those casual touches? forget it. his hands—though he would ask first—roam your body and let them linger around your waist dangerously longer than necessary, you're not making it up now, you know you feel the slight squeezes his does on your skin, letting his fingers graze, just enough to send shivers down your spine.

when he holds your face in one hand, there’s something about how his thumb lingers near your jawline or how he leans in just a little too close. it’s playful, sure, but there’s a tenderness beneath it that leaves you spinning. because he knows. he knows all too well.

it's game over when he finally does this—one arm braced above your head, his whole figure towering over you, casting a shadow which makes him look ten times more insufferable. you cannot breathe.

his lips hover just shy of yours, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. “do i really make you that nervous?”

"fuck off."

"really? that’s all you’ve got? how original.”

“kei, i swear to—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as his thumb brushes the curve of your jaw, the touch barely there but devastating all the same.

“what? gonna tell me to stop?” the glint in his eyes turns playful, pupils dilated, “you’re all talk, aren’t you?”

your hands twitch at your sides, torn between shoving him away and pulling him closer. “i hate you,” you hiss, but it lacks any real bite.

“sure you do,” he says, his tone dripping with mockery, and then—because of course he does—he closes the infinitesimal gap between you, his lips brushing against yours with infuriating slowness.

he kisses you chastely. it feels so wrong with how he already built so much tension. that this all just a stupid game he can easily control.

there’s a distinct edge of smugness to it, like he’s savoring every second of your undoing. when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, the smirk is still there, lingering at the corners of his mouth.

“still want me to fuck off?” he asks, though he already knows the answer to it.

you can only scoff and roughly smack your lips against his in a solid, and very straightforward reply. your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else.

he relents to you just as easily, this is why he simply can't get enough of you.

my stupid writers block is not making me write properly for the hershey’s kisses mini series so i had to pull this stupid drabble outta my sick ass (coughing loudly as we speak)

[keiscorner]

2:53 am

"kei." no response. you know tsukishima has to get up early for work, but the window across from your bed is open, allowing the night breeze to creep in and sting your face. you could get up yourself, but that's what husbands are for, right?

you twist around, trying to wiggle out of your husband's grasp so you can take a better look at his sleeping face. he has an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, the other supporting your neck to, in his words, 'protect his ears from your constant complaints about your sore neck in the morning'.

"honey?" you poke his cheek, smiling to yourself when he grunts in response. tsukishima has always been a light sleeper. you lay in silence for a few seconds before he finally lets out a sigh, opening his eyes to look at you.

"what do you want?"

you muster up your biggest doe eyes, knowing that he hates getting out of bed just as much as you do. "close the window for me?"

"no. you do it."

you sigh dramatically, gesturing at his arms wrapped firmly around you. "i would love to, but someone is holding me hostage, so i think you're going to have to do it."

tsukishima rolls his eyes, untangling his arms from your body. "problem solved." he holds back a smile when you frown and pull the blankets away from him, turning your back towards him. you're so cute. tsukishima would do anything you ask of him without hesitation, but he can't help but tease you a bit first. he'll never get tired of your reactions, and he loves that he can be a little snarky with you.

you sigh again, this time louder and more pointed, pretending to shiver just to show your husband how cold you really are, and how cruel he is for not helping. "if only someone could hold me right now...", you trailed off.

"ok, do you want me to help you or not?" he finally gives in, getting up to reach for his glasses. you win, as usual. you turn back to face him again with a smile as bright as sunshine, and despite all of the years you've been together, his heart still stops for a second. wow. okay, maybe he is obsessed with you, but he can't help it. you've clearly worked your magic on him, considering the fact that he's getting out of the bed for you when he has to be awake in a few hours. he goes to close the windows with a firm click, walking back to his side of bed.

"kei...since you're already up...", he looks back to see your guilty smile, an empty mug in your hands. "please? last thing, i swear." he give you a look that reads, "you're lucky i love you." (you know you're the luckiest person in the world.)

he takes your mug and you hear his quiet footsteps making their way to the kitchen. he comes back, handing you a mug full of warm water. once you take a sip, he takes the mug from you again, placing it on your nightstand.

"i poisoned that," he quips, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before finally lying down and snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. the only reason he hates getting out of bed is that he has to let go of you, but he doesn't need to say that. he's sure you already know.

[sweetfushi]

HOW THEY REALISED THEY WERE ATTRACTED TO YOU PT 1

fluff | tetsuro kuroo, kei tsukishima, wakatoshi ushijima x reader, fluff, you almost get hit with the ball (thanks yaku), reader is suggested to be short(er). ◦ notes. part two here.

TETSURO KUROO.

He started becoming quieter, almost conscious of what he said around others.

Nekoma watches as their captain almost moves in a daze, his eyes fixated on a certain girl on the bleachers, writing something and tucking her hair behind her ear every so often. Yaku had been the first to notice a few days ago during one of their practice matches, brow furrowed and lips pursed as Kuroo observed his younger sister. Although you were only younger by a year, making you a second year while Yaku and Kuroo third years, your brother was highly protective of you.

“She’s so pretty,” Kuroo murmurs, tossing the ball up and catching it repeatedly as he continues to gaze at you. He had said few words this match, albeit his smart remarks still made their presence. However, Kenma had to snap him out of a few daydreams while Lev had waved his big hands in his face, yelling “Yoohoo!”

Kuroo had deadpanned at that.

As the game continues, he watches as Yaku saves the ball but also causes it to fly over and almost hit you, making you yelp and cover your head. Kuroo almost chokes on his own breath.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” Yaku rushes out, face pinched in concern as he jogs over to where you sit with an unimpressed expression. Kuroo watches momentarily as the libero withstands your discipline and light slap to his head, before - as no one else seemed to do so - rushing up the bleacher stairs and snatching the ball up.

“You sure you don’t wanna sit higher up?” Kuroo suggests, watching it take you a moment to register that he’s talking to you. Your eyes lock and his breath hitches, lips parting as he watches you smile sheepishly and gather your notes in your arms. “That probably would be a good idea,” you giggle and thank him for his concern, moving to sit closer to the doors but not before shooting Yaku one last glare.

The libero pouts and apologises again.

Kuroo composes himself and fiddles with the ball before starting to make his way back down to the court.

“Hey, wait.” He freezes in place at the sound of your voice, turning to face you with inexplicable anticipation (for what, he wasn’t sure himself). He finds himself smiling as you do, watching as you nod towards the ball in his hand. “I will throw that ball out the window if it reaches me again,” you raise a brow, your warning teasing and (largely) unserious.

Kuroo snorts, nodding. “Noted.”

KEI TSUKISHIMA.

You became the person he talks to the most.

He hadn’t abandoned Yamaguchi at all, but even the green-haired man notices Tsukishima’s developing interest in you. You seemed more academic than the blond, opting to spend your time between classes in the library or the local cafe, but lately you had allowed him to distract you with his smart remarks and invitations to random days out. This time, he wanted you to help him practise.

“I’m not going easy on you,” you mumble, still shoving your books in your bag as you walk alongside him. He rolls his eyes and smacks the top of your head with the packaged strawberry shortcake slice he insists on having daily.

Once you get to the green field beside the school’s gym, he becomes insufferable.

“What happened to not going easy on me?” He grins, watching you chase after the ball for a second time.

You groan and almost much too aggressively throw a rock at him, one he easily avoids. You hate admitting it, but you are just as competitive as he is, so you don’t let his teasing demotivate you.

“I’m going to serve this ball in your damn face,” you huff, hitting the ball again. This time, Tsukishima is focused on his plays, following the ball carefully and analysing your every move. 

By the time you’re done, three hours have passed and the sun is barely hanging in the sky. You’re sweating and panting, Tsukishima slouched against a wall as he too catches his breath. Neither one of you breaks eye contact so you’re not oblivious to the way he lets his eyes roam over you. You don’t hesitate to do the same.

“I shouldn’t have eaten that cake,” he huffs, “I’m gonna puke.”

You burst out laughing at his whimpers. He takes a few moments to hydrate himself before inhaling deeply and glaring at you.

“I hope your stomach hurts so bad that you can’t sleep tonight,” he almost pouts - so uncharacteristic of him (also hoping that you stay up to text him).

“If you’re done being petty,” you push your hair back and wipe yourself down with a small towel, “I was thinking we can go get some food, maybe help that little upset stomach of yours.”

You almost scream when he throws his sweaty towel at you.

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.

He starts to ask about you.

He’s walking out of school with the rest of the team, waiting outside a local store as Tendo and Goshiki spend half their life savings on snacks they’ll likely forget about. Ushijima is checking the news and simultaneously listening to Ohira talk about how he’s trying out a new regime at the gym, until he hears Semi on the phone with someone. He glances up at him, hoping to hear your voice, but turns back to his phone when he doesn’t.

After about ten minutes of yelling at Tendo and Goshiki to hurry up before their banks question their hefty transactions, they all start heading home again.

“How’s your sister?” Ushijima asks bluntly, catching Semi’s surprised expression in his peripheral vision. The setter hesitates before nodding. “She’s fine.”

An awkward silence dawns on the duo.

“I thought there would be more to that conversation,” Semi laughs, staring up at his seemingly unfazed captain. Ushijima hums.

Again, the silence becomes deafening.

“Is she still working in that new firm downtown?” Ushijima asks. “I remember you said that she was excited about getting her own office.”

Semi nods, brow furrowed in confusion. “I told you that about two months ago, do I wanna know how or why you still remember that?” The two then look at each other with seemingly apathetic expressions, although Semi has a feeling that Ushijima isn’t asking out of the kindness of his own heart. He doesn’t mention it though, instead says his goodbyes to the others as they all part ways - except for him and Ushijima.

Although Semi isn't too keen on letting you invest time into boys seeking nothing but someone they can manipulate for their own benefit, he knows that Ushijima is nothing like that. Though, he's not sure how the captain would even go about approaching you considering his and your busy schedules.

"Do you... want her number?" Semi initiates what Ushijima seemed hesitant to mention.

"Please."

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[yenqa]

20191009 I LIKE HER | timeskip!tsukkishima as your boyfriend

♫ – currently playing… mac demarco

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

pairing – tsukishima x fem!reader ☆

a/n – hi guys… hope u enjoy !!

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[clawsdevour]

both our firsts

wc: 1.8k content warning: established relationship, smut, first time (both virgins !), tsukishima x reader, not proofread

ઉ⠀⠀𓂂 ׄ

“Kei..” you whispered, slightly shifting your head back to glance at him.

In a cuddling position with your boyfriend under the cozy blanket. His arms are tightly wrapped around your torso, inching up towards your clothed breasts. His nose just barely grazing the crook of your warm neck, half lidded golden eyes staring at the lit up device in your hands.

“Hmm?” a low voice vibrating along your smooth skin, lips delicately pressed against your bare shoulder.

Pressing his crotch closer to your ass, increasing in size and hardness under your embrace. His large hands cup your soft breasts, fondling them inbetween the thin fabric of your tank top. Biting down on your lower lip in arousal, your hips start grinding down upon the bulge that laid inbetween your two searing bodies.

“Have you done it before?” breaking the intimate silence with his husky voice resonating in your ear.

“No.. have you?” you murmured under your breath, shutting your phone off to focus your attention on your boyfriend.

Putting your phone to the side before shuffling in bed to face his flustered complexion. Arms around his neck as you get lost in his honey gold eyes, his hand on your waist moving lower to grope your ass, pulling your leg onto his hip whilst rubbing your thigh up and down soothingly. 

“I haven’t,” Tsukishima purred, caressing your cheek with his soft touch.

Pulling him in by his collar, you share a passionate kiss just about under the covers. Gradually his hands grasp you onto him, breasts pressed against his chest for his eyes to leer on, your heat emitting core rubbing against his bulge covered by articles of clothing. 

Your lips crashed onto his, just playfully pecking the outskirts of his soft mouth. Rimming the fine line with his tongue, urging you to part your mouth for him. Accepting to his advances and just slightly opening your mouth for his tongue to enter. Your tongues crash and sway together at a consistent pleasurable pace. 

His fingers move quickly, slipping under your shorts, barely making it to your panties from under your restricting article of clothing. Fingers pressing against your damp underwear making you flinch to a sudden halt.

“...Wanna do it?” Tsukishima purs from under you, face flushed from the intensive kissing, completely out of breath the moment you parted lips.

“Yeah,” sitting on his lower stomach, your fingers move up from the hem of his shirt, revealing his toned stone body for your desires to linger further. Wasn’t your first time seeing him half naked, but either way you still gawk at his delicious figure. 

His half lidded eyes gaze at you while you scan his stature from beneath. Raising his hands from your waist to grasp onto your breasts, thumb rubbing over your sensitive nipples that perked out from your tank top. Gasping out a subtle reaction to the stimulation he creates with your nipples, grinding your clothed crotch onto his erection while you both surpressed your groans. 

Hands working down lower to hold onto the bottom of your tank top, helping you take off your top, eyes focusing on the little bounce produced when it’s dropped off somewhere into the abyss of your room. 

Sitting up till his back hits the bed frame, hands pulling you closer by your ass, parting his mouth as he raised his head to lick your rosy nipples while you continue to rock your hips onto his.

“You’re so hard Kei,” hiding a smirk under your breath watching his eyebrows furrow while you felt yourself rapidly wetten on top of him.

“Should I just slip it in?” he smuggly chuckled before tracing a finger down your stomach, tickling your skin as he reached lower into your shorts.

Two fingers sliding down into your panties, stopping at your slit that emitted slick from within as he parted your wet folds with his fingertips. Coming in contact with your clit, just simply stroking it with the tip of his finger that had you wanting to rub your legs together despite hovering right above him.

The more he massaged your cunt with his gentle touch, the more stimulation he created, flooding you with pleasure. You’re holding onto his shoulder while you compress yourself in an attempt to not lose your cool in front of him as you bite down on your lower lip. 

Instead of rocking your hips on his painfully hard erection, you’re rubbing your pussy on his fingers while he watched with pride. Fingers creeping up and inserted into your gummy entrance, you let out a groan of satisfaction.

“Fuck so tight..” he breathed out, eyebrows furrowed as you make eye contact with him. Your fingers never felt as good as his whenever you masturbated to the pure thought of him, but woah his fingers that curled and scissored inside you made you whimper in delight.

“Does that feel good?” his breath tickling the surface of your stomach, pressing gentle kisses up towards your breasts.

“Yeah..!–” yelping when he took over and pressed your back against the fluffy blanket, fingers removing themselves from you to take off your shorts and undergarments. 

“S’kinda in the way,” flinging your shorts and undies somewhere on the floor before using his large hands to part your legs wide open for him to gaze upon as you tried to keep your legs together.

Sliding his hands down your inner thighs to soothe your shaking legs as Tsukishima lowered himself. Tsukishima’s hot muscle making contact with your slightly swollen clit, moving in circles while you held in your moans. 

While his tongue was busy bringing you to the brink of satisfied tears, Tsukishima’s inserting his fingers back into your gaping entrance to fill you back up, immediately moving at a faster rate than before.

Dazed from all the stimulation that pulses through your entire being, eyes starting to daze into a shut as it almost became numbing. His tongue working on pleasuring your throbbing red clit while his fingers worked endlessesly pumping out your juices before taking them out.

“You okay?” inches above your groggly face, checking in on your condition while you came back to your consciousness.

“Just feel so.. good,” placing your arm around his shoulder, the other reaching down to feel the hardness of his growing bulge as he swallowed hard upon encountering your touch, a suggestive smile lingering on your lips.

“You want it that bad?” he said confidently, hiding the fact that he’s inexperienced, the fact that you’re his first and that he’s yours.

“Be my first,” bringing both arms in to hug him, the solid rock laying inbetween your hot bodies.

Falling out each others arms, Tsukishima slides off his remaining articles of clothing leaving him bare and exposed. His cock dripped with precum as it stood tall in all its glory, staring back at you with a fiery pink tip.

Tilting yourself up a bit and onto your elbows. You continued to restrain yourself from keeping your legs closed while you watched him dip the tip of his cock into your wet folds, collecting all the left over juices that coated your sopping cunt before lining himself up.

“Are you sure.. y’know, about this? It might hurt,” looking up from the intimact act to see your quivering eyes filled with anxiousness.

He was right, it hurt. A lot. His girth was no match for your pussy, even upon just the slightest entrance. It was as if he were to pass a sword through you, stretching you out with his pointy tip that felt like it was tearing you in half. 

Taking it slow, Tsukishima grunts like he’s the one in pain. Your plush walls tightened around his cock the more he continued to shove his massive girth into you, almost felt like he was gonna get snapped in half inside.

“Wait– it hurts..” clawing into his muscular shoulder as he comes to a halt, letting you adjust to the shape of his cock.

Slowly, your pussy took the shape of his length, molding it into his own personal cunt. Toughing it out together while you breathed out for air. When he managed to bury his cock deep inside you, he’s praising you for your efforts of bearing the troubles of him.

“Does it hurt a lot? I’m sorry.. You did good babe,” kissing the tears off of your cheeks that flowed down earlier.

“Yeah.. but I want you to keep going,” caressing his cheek with your thumb.

“Okay, let me know when to stop or if it hurts. I’ll go slower,” laying a peck on your warm cheek before starting to grind his hips into yours.

Groaning in pain as he slowly continues to drill into you with concern, you can’t help but be impatient waiting for the pleasure to finally wash over the feeling of being cut into two with his own sword.

“Keep going..” you sobbed, eyes continuing to glaze with tears as he continues to stuff you with his length that scratched your walls like a fork on a dry chalk board.

The pain subsided to a numbing sensation before the contentness you started to feel filling you up. Stimulating your nether regions, though still moving in slow and sensational strokes. Watching his cock slide in and out, getting reapplied in your soaking juices with each gradual thrust.

“Does it still hurt?” honey eyes focusing on your facial expressions that continued to twist and contort while you whimpered.

“No.. well I don’t think–” yelping out a loud moan when he found and hit one of your core stimulating areas.

“..feels good!” you exclaimed, arching your back inches off of the plush mattress.

A bit of a smirk crept up his face, starting to pick up his pace, his hips starting to click more with yours. Repeatedly, his tip started to prod into your sensitive regions, over and over again until you reached your high and saw static completely take over your vision.

Legs trembling as you continued to let him pound into you till he reached his climax. His soft delicate thrusts turned into quick and rough ones the more you called out for his name. His hot rod continuing to impale you before instantly whipping it out the moment he felt like he was about to burst inside you. 

His fiery red angry head spurting out his warm milky goop on your stomach as his low voice groaned with satisfaction. Squinting eyes behind his thick lenses observing his gooey mixture drip down your abdomen to the side from out of his cock. 

His large hand stroking over it to completely empty his load over your bare body, coating you in what he had in store. Your torso glistened with his murky white cum, chest heaving out pants of exhausation while you subtly smile in contentness before his heavy body just barely fell on top of yours.

“..Did you feel good?” lifting his head up to peer at you, his fingers moving the strands of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ears. “Mhm..” you grumble out, too tired for a full response.

masterlist here

[taintedtort]

https://www.tumblr.com/taintedtort/742994409435594752/hello-i-was-wondering-if-you-can-do-a-haikyu?source=share

Hello!!! Can you do this request with kenma, tsukishima and suna pls???? 🥺🥺

" WIPING KISSES! "

summary. you wipe their kisses off (pt2)

characters. kenma, tsukishima, suna

warnings. gn!reader, none!

a/n. i love this prompt, it’s so easy to write :P (link to pt1) (link to pt3)

KENMA

☆ kenma isn’t usually very physically affectionate, but he likes to kiss your hands a lot. it’s simple and quick, and not that noticeable to other people. however, this particular time he kissed the back of your hand, you wiped it on your sweater directly after. he noticed, but didn’t really say anything because he hadn’t thought much of it at the time. but as the day went on, he realized that you were doing it every single time he kissed your hand. he knows you though, and he’s quick to catch on that you’re messing with him. he’s mildly amused at best, but doesn’t really get the point. you’re trying to provoke him, right? it kinda worked… he‘s not necessarily annoyed, but he doesn’t like that you’re wiping them off.

"quit it."

TSUKISHIMA

☆ he notices and instantly scowls at you. it was kind of your fault for making it so obvious though. he kissed your forehead and you immediately wiped it off with your hoodie sleeve, a disgusted look on your face. it was clearly fake and all a joke, seeing as you laughed right after, but he got petty nonetheless. you apologize through giggles when you see his annoyed expression, but he only rolls his eyes. he eventually gives in, like he always does, but you have to make it up to him by kissing him literally everywhere.

"fine then, wipe my kiss off. see if you get another one."

SUNA

☆ he was taking some selfies with you, and he gave your cheek a kiss for one of them. he was sort of rapid fire clicking, so he actually got a picture of you wiping the kiss off directly after. he looks at you with a confused expression, saying something like "the fuck was that?" you wave him off, but he just pulls up the picture he got and starts examining in. he doesn’t say anything else, just looking at you with an expecting look, silently telling you to explain yourself. you crack and tell him it was a prank, just to rile him up and see what’d he do. he rolls his eyes and places another kiss to your cheek, watching to make sure you don’t wipe this one off too.

"you trying to be cute?"

[heartmaddie]

soft spot ! kageyama tobio , tsukishima kei , sakusa kiyoomi (seperate) incl ; post time-skip , fluff , mentions marriage (sakusa) , kageyama's is a bit sad ? , fem!reader

kageyama tobio ! “i need you ‘cause you’re everything that i’m not”

from the ages of fourteen to twenty-five, kageyama spent every night all alone.

with the absense of his parents, the death of his grandfather and his sister being frequently out of the house, kageyama was used to spending hours in solemnity to the point where he had to trick himself into enjoying it. that was until she had spent the first night at his apartment. after intertwined bodies and sleepy kisses shared between the two of them, it was more than just time with the woman that he had suddenly fallen in love with, but a small peek into the romance that he had missed out on due to his previous aversion to love.

he was addicted to her, addicted to her touch, addicted to the way her hands would brush over the skin of his muscular back which exhibited all the work he’d dedicated to his sport. everything about her was so different to him. her soft fingers and calming words, the way she carried herself with some sort of ethereal grace would completely contrast the monster which kageyama tobio was, or at least thought.

because when he was wrapped in her arms, head resting against the swell of her chest, he was someone else entirely. in his peaceful state of sleep, tobio was somewhat reminiscent of the little boy who had missed out on hours of slumber due to his fear of the dark, only amplified by the fact that he was all alone. so now he would greedily soak up any sort of affection she’d offer him as if it were a precious gold liquid that only he could obtain. whenever he found himself in her arms, his heart would swell to an impossible size, and it was almost like her warmth was chipping away at the ice which adorned his cold heart.

her love seeped through the cracks which dug deep. from the night terrors of his childhood to the loss of the one family member who truly loved him to the rejection of his teammates, tobio was brimming with unvoiced malaise. but only in her arms, was that pain finally taken away from him.

tobio would cling onto her as if nothing else mattered, because every night without her, he was brought back to the old reality which was sleepless nights alone, something he’d never want to experience again.

tsukishima kei ! “don’t believe in love but no one makes me feel like you do”

as of right now, her and tsukishima kei’s relationship was nothing more than quiet walks through the local art gallery with intertwined fingers or spending late nights together at the quiet library downtown as they worked together in silence, he was comfortable with that. he didn’t like the idea of being so dependent on another person, he even found it quite embarrassing when he’d see other couples cling to each other in public. he had voiced this opinion before, and it was mutually agreed upon between the two of them.

he had somewhat mentioned how he played volleyball professionally, but he didn’t tell her a lot about it - so he was quite surprised when he caught a glimpse of her signature beige trench coat and black knitted scarf, a large bouquet wrapped in her arms as she looked around curiously. before he even realised it, blood rushed to his cheeks, his teammates grinning and nudging them along as they caught sight of her too.

tsukishima let out a soft sigh before he walked up to her, taping on her shoulder and eyeing the bouquet quizzically.

“what’s that for?” he asked, his voice a low murmur with a hint of curiosity embedded between words. for a fleeting moment her eyes met him, a meek smile ghosted on her face as she awkwardly stuffed the bouquet into his arms.

“it’s a gift, for you,” she murmured, eyes trained down, just missing the flustered expression of her boyfriend. “a couple of friends told me that you had a game tonight and that it was pretty important or something..” she was embarrassed, her back was visibly tensed up. and tsukishima couldn’t help but wonder if he’s seen a more enchanting thing in his life before this.

it was almost automatic how he reached for her, bringing her face close to his chest as he carefully ensured to not squish the pink lilies cradled in the other arm. he buried his nose into her neatly styled hair, inhaling the soft scent which somehow matched her perfectly.

“thank you, it’s quite thoughtful..” he hummed, and he could feel the convulsions which pattered within his heart as he hesitantly brought tender pink lips towards her.

in moments like these, tsukishima pushed away the idea of being embarrassed, focused on the way her fingers intertwined with his as he embraced her. he smiled against her lips, suddenly overtaken by the unmeasurable swelling in his chest, and for the first time, he decided that maybe love would be okay if it was just with her.

sakusa kiyoomi ! “i hate to dance but i’ll dance with you, ‘cause i’d do anything to feel your touch”

in the dim lighting of their modern apartment, the two figures swayed in perfect sync to the 1960s jazz which played quietly in the background. the swell of her cheek was pressed against his hard chest, arms loosely wrapped around his neck as she inhaled the aquatic and woody accords which wafted around his upper body.

his arms squeezed her hips, moving together in endless circles. while she was focused on correcting her movements and not stepping all over his sock-clothed toes, his eyes were solely trained on her face. in the nighttime, and under the stars, the yellow moon cast a mesmerising glow over her face, and sakusa kiyoomi was enchanted by her. his eyes were unusually soft, his signature pouty expression gone as he found himself falling even more in love with the woman right in front of him as they danced under luminescence.

sakusa’s lips ghosted over the fat of her cheeks, pressing a tender, chaste kiss against soft skin, his arms moving to pull her impossibly closer, and he couldn’t help but smile when she melted into his embrace. if someone were to tell sixteen year old him that he’d find himself in a situation like this, he would’ve scowled or laughed it off. but now, in his full maturity as a twenty-six year old man, he would always seek the comfort and warmth of her soft body, he was almost yearnful for it.

he’s become content in the tranquillity of swaying together in the late hours of the night, he looks forward to it now. and when the record halted to a stop, his arms lifted her into the air, evoking a tired giggle from her chest before placing her languidly over the goose-down quilt and falling right next to her. his lips once again press a soft kiss against the nape of her neck, murmuring a small ‘i love you’, unheard to another’s ears as he watched her fall dormant.

his lips pulled into a soft smile, as he carefully lifted her left hand as if not to wake her up. his fingers rubbed gentle circles against the skin of her fourth finger, his heart beating impossibly faster as he imagined smooth skin replaced by the texture of the two-carat diamond ring which was buried at the bottom of his drawers.

song link

please like , reblog or follow if you enjoyed :p © heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[rinsoap]

no thoughts, just alt bfs <33 he lets you dye his hair every other month, looking forward to sitting on the tiled bathroom floor between your legs while you perch on the rim of the bathtub, painting over his overgrown buzzcut. he likes to give your knees little kisses as his foot taps to some system of a down song you hum along to.

he'll happily accept your offer to do his makeup after you finish yours. you drag pencil eyeliner across his lids and corners of his eyes, smearing it in lazily until it's grey to add an even more tired appearance to his face. you finish off his quick look with a kiss to his cheekbone that leaves a dark lipstick print where your lips were.

before he goes out, he always makes sure to be wearing a piece of jewelry you've gifted him; chrome rings, matching red pendants, a little sword earring. he loves being asked where he got his jewelry because then he gets to mention you! "oh this? my beautiful girlfriend got them for me, thank you for asking."

he does not take his playlists seriously at all. he just shuffles his liked songs and calls it a day. he's got one playlist though, and its dedicated to makeouts with you. and he takes that very seriously. he loves pulling you on top of him from laying beside him. he likes to have you on top of him, thighs squeezing against his hips as you straddle him. you lean down to press your lips on his, holding his face with both hands gently while the playlist blasts over the sounds of your kisses. it always starts out gentle, polite even, but as soon as the playlists shuffles to she wants revenge, all niceties are thrown out the window. he pulls you close, and you follow his movement. your hands keep switching from his face, to his neck, to his chest, not knowing where to touch, but knowing you want to touch him. he mimicks similar movements, needing as much of you as he can get. he squeezes the flesh of your hips and lets his hands roam over your body, up his shirt you’re wearing to rub the skin of your waist and back. you need each other, and that's all you know.

SUNA RINTARO. miya osamu. KOZUME KENMA!!!! semi eita. tsukishima kei. kunimi akira. KYOTANI KENTOROU!

MITSUYA TAKASHI!!!!!! ken ryuguji. hakkai shiba. BAJI KEISUKE. kazutora hanemiya.

[revasserium]

love bites

kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,025 words; fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of hickies, no "y/n", fem!reader, whiney!kageyama, dom!hinata, tsukki being... tsukki, post timeskip!characters

summary: these hickeys like the remnants of our love, footsteps on the sea-soaked sand, a line of demarcation -- here is where our story begins.

a/n: i just rly wanted to write about hq! babes and hickies...

kenma.

the first time it happens, it’s a mistake — a brief moment of vindictiveness manifest in the way he whines and nuzzles into your neck before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into your skin. when you gasp, your head tipping back, kenma pauses, pulling back, his mind already cataloging this very interesting new piece of information for later use, but his eyes have yet to catch up — his body has yet to catch up with the sight of you, cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes slightly glazed over as you stare ruefully up at him, a hand coming up to press over your mouth as you frown.

“w-what was that for?”

kenma hums, sitting back with a pout, “you were the one being unfair.”

you scowl, “how was i being unfair? you lost the game fair and square — the stakes were loser does the dishes.”

kenma sniffs, his nose crinkling at the thought, “but we have a dishwasher — it’s literally in the name —”

“but the nice wine glasses can’t be put through the dishwasher!”

you push yourself up onto your elbows even as kenma slumps back on the sofa, groaning loudly. still, he lets his head slump to one side to stare at the rapidly darkening patch of skin at the junction of your neck and shoulders. there’s something that feels dangerously like desire calcifying in the pit of his stomach and he weighs the pros and cons of leaning forward to give you another good bite.

really, dinner was great, dessert was better but — this.

suddenly, he understands what his teammates had always meant when they’d said they could keep on eating forever, even when their stomachs were full to bursting, even when they thought they’d be ill.

“stupid wine glasses…” he murmurs, leaning forward to prop his chin on your shoulder. you laugh, a soft, breathy thing as you reach out to tug a strand of hair from his low, messy bun.

“but the wine was good, no?”

kenma hums, letting his head loll back and forth, his eyes flickering down once more to the round ring of red now rising against your skin. he allows himself a tiny grin, leaning forward to press a kiss over the tender flesh. he makes note of the way you gasp, soft and expectant, the way your body seems to tense and then go laxed beneath his hands.

“yeah…” he whispers, smirking as he sinks delicate fingers into your hair, gently shifting your head to one side to allow him more access, “guess it was good…”

he presses another kiss to your neck, just slightly below the reddening hickey.

“g-guess? that was — a-an expensive bottle…”

“hmmm…” kenma trails his lips down over your shoulder, tugging lightly at your shirt, the wide collar falling away easily. when he finds yet another patch of unmarred skin, grazing his teeth over it, he feels the way you reach up to fist your fingers in his hair.

“’zume… don’t think you can get out of doing the dishes like this…”

kenma laughs, letting his breath puff out against your skin seconds before he opens his mouth and takes another soft bite. he doesn’t miss the way you whimper this time, doesn’t mistake the hitch in your breath for something like surprise when he knows better — and he knows you best of all.

“not trying to get out of doing it… just… we never specified when the loser has to do the dishes so…” he licks his lips, glancing up at you with a bright, devilish flicker behind his eyes, “i’m just taking my time with the meal. nothing wrong with that, right?”

tsukki.

it is a normal thing, for you to wake up in the morning and find remnants of the night before scattered across your skin like sand dollars littered upon a stretch of beloved beach. and tsukishima is never apologetic — ever.

if anything, he looks upon his work with pride, smirking as you tug at the collar of your shirt, tutting.

“tsukki… i told you not to bite so hard…”

“hmm… sorry, i must’ve forgotten,” he props a cheek on his hand, peering at you over his glasses, his tone the farthest thing from apologetic, “heat of the moment and all.”

you shoot him a reproachful look in the mirror and watch as his grin widens ever so slightly.

“the girls are the museum are gonna have a field day with this.”

tsukishima shrugs, slumping back into the bed with a loud, long sigh.

“dunno why girls have such a weird fixation on other people’s boyfriends. ‘s not like it’s any of their business.”

you tug listlessly at the collar of your button up shirt, resigned to the fact that you’ll never be able to hide the marks properly as you heave another sigh.

“it’s just how we communicate — it’s like… how guys sometimes just need to like… punch it out — or whatever.”

“or whatever?” tsukishima almost chortles, rolling over onto his stomach again. your schedules at the museum only overlap 2 days a week, and the rest of the days, either he’s off or you are. it’s a miracle the pair of you were able to meet in the first place, let alone hit it off like you did.

“yeah. i don’t know how guys communicate,” you say, even as tsukishima swings out of bed to come up behind you, looping his arms around your middle.

“we… don’t, really,” he admits, in a customary deadpan, propping his chin on the top of your head with obscene ease. you frown up at him, tilting your head back till it hits the middle of his chest.

“you’re gonna make me late again.”

“so?”

“so — unless you want me to get fired —”

“they’re not gonna fire you. you’re too good at… cataloging maps, or whatever it is you guys do in the cartography department.”

tsukishima spins you around his arms, pressing you lightly back against the mirror. he considers you for a moment, with eyes just sharp enough to pass for academic interest, but you see the darkness misting its depths, the pressure in his fingertips as he leans in to seal his lips over yours in a kiss that could only be called searing.

you break away gasping, only to feel his lips trail fire down your neck seconds before —

“t-tsukki — !”

he pulls back with a satisfied smirk; you can feel yet another bruise blooming along your skin.

“there. one more thing for you and your girlfriends to bond over, hm?”

kageyama.

it is a deliberate thing, the first time. but kageyama remembers the strange gravity, the tug just behind his navel, the persistent itch of curiosity as he leans forward to sink his teeth into your skin.

he likes the way you hiss, the way you go soft in his arms, the pair of you already a pile of tangled limbs on the massive sectional in the living room, the lights dimmed, half a bottle of red wine yet un-drunk on the coffee table.

“tobio… what —”

he hums, burying his face in your shoulder, fingers digging into your sides.

“… something i wanted to try…”

“hm?” you gently card your fingers through his hair, quirking your head to one side.

“it’s just —” he pulls back, a deep blush prickling his cheeks as he looks anywhere but at you, “something… i’ve wanted to try. for — a while,” he admits, looking shockingly small for a internationally renowned volleyball player, hunched over on the couch like this, his lips stained dark with wine.

you giggle, leaning up to tilt his chin back towards yours.

“sure. you can try whatever you want.”

you lay back, stretching out beneath him, pliant and willing, and kageyama goes still for a solid four seconds before he narrows his eyes, an un-namable hunger clawing at his insides as he pulls you beneath him and groans into your skin.

he likes the way the colors seep the surface of your skin, likes the way it’s so obvious against the bright of your collarbones. he spends all of the following day in an intoxicatingly good mood, to the point where his teammates are understandable suspicious. but he just tells them he slept well, that he had a good dinner last night, that wine was really, really delicious.

and that thanks for the recommendation.

hinata.

brazil has changed him, in more ways than you can count, but at the same time, in some ways, he is just, just the same.

“s-shou-you!”

“mmm —” he whines sucking a deep hickey into the junction of your neck, his pupils blown wide as he pulls back, lips split into a too-pleased grin, “what is it? did i hurt you?”

there’s the barest hint of a tease in his voice, and anyone else might’ve thought he’s completely serious, that he’s actually worried. and in a sense, he is — he’d never want to actually hurt you. but he also knows that — to a certain degree, you revel in this kind of pain.

you chew on your bottom lip, shaking your head.

“no… it’s — it’s okay.”

“yeah?” he sounds entirely too happy with himself as he reaches forward to thumb at the damp spot on your skin, “ah… that one’ll be pretty. just like you!”

he laughs, his joy so pure and infectious that it makes you blush. you look away.

“shou…?”

“hm? what is it, pretty girl?”

he bends back down to press a light kiss to your collarbone, peaking up at you with those would-be innocent eyes.

“don’t… don’t tease me.”

hinata laughs, that self-same, joyous sound.

“but i like teasing you!” he says, with no hint of malice, not a single sliver of shame.

you can only cover your eyes with your arm, turning your head away.

“aww, don’t do that —” he says, coaxing your hand away before pinning both of them above your head with a single, fluid move. your breath hitches.

“don’t hide from me…”

it’s too much to hope for that someone with eyes like his would miss such a thing. you watch as the dark, lightless centers of his eyes grow ever so slightly larger, threatening to overtake the honeyed ring of his actual iris.

“can’t… can’t help it…” you look away, feeling the waves of indomitable heat, wave after wave, washing through you, collecting at the base of your stomach to twist into something deeper, something harder.

“can’t help what, hm?” hinata laces your fingers with his; distinctly, you can feel his thighs flex on either side of your legs, locking you in place. the summers are hot in rio, but you can’t help but wonder if more than half the heat in the room might be coming from the pair of you alone.

all around him, the air wavers like a reflection in pond-water —

“shou… just —” you lick your lips.

“ah…” there’s a soft whine curling at the edge of his voice as he leans down, “you’re not playing fair at all…”

desire pulses like a heartbeat inside you.

“shouyou, please,” you beg, trying to wrest some semblance of control back from him but he’s having none of it. he pins your hands to either side of your head, his bed more than wide enough for the pair of you, with room to spare.

“mah… you gotta be a bit more specific than that,” he says, his voice almost casual as he noses into your pulse point right beneath your jaw. you hold your breath and a second later, the harsh sting of his teeth rakes through you, chasing pleasure down your spine.

“m-more —” you choke out the word against the heat of his lips and you feel rather than see him grin above you.

“yeah? i think i can do that for you.”

[katescorner]

TSUKISHIMA IS THE TYPE OF BOYFRIEND TO . . .

tsukishima x tall-ish reader who wears lipstick

much to everyone's surprise tsukishima is a soft lover. after all what is love if not soft?

outside a restaurant and mid conversation with old friends (the karasuno group together for a reunion that only happens once in a while), without so much as a break in his dialogue, tsukishima sheds his scarf and wraps it firmly around your neck. he's still speaking, but there's a small frown growing on his face as he makes sure the fabric is secure. it's cold out. why aren't you dressed warmer? he doesn't pay attention to the looks of surprise on his friends face (or perhaps he just doesn't notice it). he's in love. why wouldn't he care for his lover?

before a game with the sendai frogs, tsukishima leans forward to get a kiss from you. it's routine. his good luck charm, he insists. and if you're wearing lipstick that stains a little bit, tinting his own just the slightest shade darker of pink, he doesn't say anything. he thinks it's funny, especially when you try to wipe it off him after only for him to wave you away. you'll wipe away all the good luck, he says.

tired after a long day at the museum (who knew working full time would be so tiring?), tsukishima is relieved when he sees you waiting outside for him. he leans into your embrace and rests his head on your shoulder with a soft sigh, feeling the ache in his neck release when you draw circles on his back. grateful, he whispers. i'm so lucky to have you. and you smile. he doesn't see it, but he can feel it with the way your heartbeat picks up.

anxiously awaiting your arrival, tsukishima glances down at his watch. anniversaries were always difficult to plan, but he enjoyed it. picking out flowers and making reservations, he liked having an excuse to see you dress up. only when you came, his heart stuttered and he felt his ears grow pink. suddenly the night's plans felt trivial and words weren't enough to communicate the feelings of his heart, so he settled on i love you. to the moon and back, i love you.

no real ending (or plot) just mushy love sick tsukishima

[devilyn]

"This is the end, then?"

His voice was bitter as you wrapped your scarf closer around the lower half of your face, trying to keep warm under the moonlight and dim street lamp.

"...yeah," you whispered into the wool fabric, looking down at Tsukishima's shoes and avoiding his sharp gaze.

"At least look at me while breaking up with me."

He had every right time be hurt. You knew that.

Almost stiffly, you finally lifted your head to look into his eyes, and the sight almost crumbled your resolve.

Hurt. Betrayal. Confusion. Emotions he typically would try to hide were more evident than ever in his eyes.

"Are you serious?" His tone was cold, yet a silent rage burned in his low voice. "After everything, this is it?"

"I've already explained to you why, Kei--"

"I don't care, it's a bullshit reason!"

"So not caring about my feelings is a bullshit reason?" You finally snapped at him.

Tsukishima went silent. After a second, he clicked his tongue and looked off to the side.

"I told you, Kei, multiple times before we even got to this point," you continued to hiss, rage burning in your eyes as you glared up at him. "You've been WAY too comfortable with your insults lately. You called me lazy and worthless the other day, do you know how that feels?"

His shoulders visibly slumped as he finally processed your words. The regret hit him instantly and he pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up.

"...I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it." He whispered quietly, a subtle tremor in his voice.

"I can only take so much, do you understand?"

You wanted to bury your face into your palms and cry, but the last thing you wanted to do was show Tsukishima that he could draw that kind of reaction from you. So instead, you focused on your anger. You glared at him, scowled, yelled, but you didn't cry.

"Baby," His voice was practically laced with desperation now, the term of endearment uttered in a weak plea.

"Don't call me that," you responded quickly, refusing to look into his eyes. Your voice lacked the edge you hoped for.

You hated when he used those petnames with you when you were upset with him. He knew how quickly you would fold for him. But not this time.

"We're over. I'm breaking up with you."

You looked into his eyes this time, and you watched as a dark scowl took over his usual calm expression. You saw the pain and betrayal in his eyes, quickly hidden behind the rage he constantly used as his defense mechanism.

And you braced yourself for what you knew was about to come, shoulders tensing and shrinking into yourself.

"Fuck it, see if I care," He snarled, "I don't give a fuck anymore, I'll be so much better off without you. You were just dead weight to me anyway."

Your heart ached in your chest, and you glared up at your ex boyfriend with tears in your eyes.

"...fuck off, Kei."

Something like regret flashed across his face at the sight of your tears, but you've turned away and stalked off before either of you could acknowledge it.

"Wait, baby--"

The door slammed shut behind you, and Tsukishima was left rooted to the floor in his now too empty apartment.

He swallowed the apology stuck in his throat, knowing you'd never be able to hear it. You left him, and he could only blame himself.

[fayelero]

ⓘ 01. GETTING YOU FLUSTERED !

⤷ multiple ﹫ female reader ﹫ fluff ﹫ drabbles

⌗ bokuto, kageyama, kuroo, tendou, atsumu, osamu, suna, kenma, tsukishima, semi, iwaizumi

⚠︎ suggestive for some of them, fluff .ᐟ.ᐟ

𓍯𓂃 bokuto kotaro

Bokuto’s golden eyes lock onto yours with a sharp, knowing intensity, the kind that sets your skin ablaze before he even speaks. He leans in just slightly, that signature smirk tugging at the corner of his lips—cocky, playful, and entirely too devastating. Your breath catches, heat rushing to your cheeks as his gaze never wavers, holding you there like a prisoner to his wicked amusement. “What’s wrong, babe?” he murmurs, voice low, teasing, fully aware of the effect he has on you. The smirk deepens, and you swear your heart might just give out as his fingers brush against your wrist—light, fleeting, but enough to send a shiver straight down your spine.

He chuckles, the sound rich and smug, as if he can see right through you—see the way your pulse is racing, the way your lips part just slightly, searching for a comeback that won’t come. His fingers trail higher, tracing lazy circles against your skin, and when he finally tilts his head, his smirk turning downright sinful, you swear you forget how to breathe. “You always get this flustered when I look at you like that?” he teases, voice dripping with amusement, but there’s something darker beneath it—something possessive, hungry. He inches closer, so close you can feel his breath ghost over your lips, and just when you think he’ll kiss you, he pulls back with a satisfied hum, leaving you burning, aching, and hopelessly addicted to the way he unravels you with nothing but a look.

𓍯𓂃 kageyama tobio

Kageyama isn’t one for grand gestures, but the way he sneaks in those fleeting, stolen kisses when no one is looking? It’s downright lethal. One moment, you’re standing beside him, completely unsuspecting, and the next, his lips brush against the side of your temple—so quick, so soft, you almost think you imagined it. But then he does it again, this time at the corner of your mouth, so subtle yet so deliberate it sends a rush of heat straight through you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge the way your breath hitches or how your fingers curl into fists at your sides. Instead, he just keeps his expression neutral, only the slight twitch of his lips betraying his amusement. And when you finally manage to shoot him a flustered glare, cheeks burning, he just shrugs, leans in one last time, and murmurs against your skin, “You make it too easy.”

As if to prove his point, he does it again—this time a featherlight press of his lips just below your ear, so quick yet so devastating that your entire body tenses. Your breath stutters, heart hammering against your ribs, and he knows it. You can feel the way his lips linger for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, the ghost of a smirk hidden against your skin. And then he’s gone, standing beside you as if nothing happened, eyes fixed ahead like the perfect picture of innocence. But when you dare to glance up at him, you catch it—the slightest hint of mischief flickering in his deep blue eyes, his hand brushing against yours like a silent promise: This isn’t over.

𓍯𓂃 tetsuro kuroo

Kuroo is relentless, a walking storm of teasing fingers and knowing smirks, completely unbothered by when or where he touches you—because to him, there’s never a bad time to drive you insane. His hands are always on you, tracing lazy patterns along your thighs when you sit beside him, ghosting over your lower back as he passes by, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt just to rest against your waist like he belongs there. And he does it so effortlessly, so naturally, that it leaves you breathless every single time. His fingers toy with the ends of your hair, tugging just enough to make your stomach flip, his palm pressing firmly against the curve of your hip when he pulls you closer, his touch burning through the fabric of your clothes like a brand. And the worst part? He knows what he’s doing. The way your breath catches, the way you shiver under his touch—he drinks it in, smirking against your ear as he leans in, voice low and full of sinful amusement. “You get flustered way too easily, babe,” he murmurs, his fingers slipping beneath your chin to tilt your gaze up to his. “Good thing I don’t mind making it worse.”

As if to prove his point, his fingers trail down, tracing the column of your throat with a touch so light it sends a full-body shiver ripping through you. His smirk deepens, eyes dark with satisfaction as his hands find your waist again, gripping just hard enough to make your breath hitch. And then—because he’s Kuroo, because he lives to see you unravel—he dips his head, lips barely grazing your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock innocence, his fingers kneading slow, deliberate circles into your hips. “Can’t handle me?” He’s taunting you, playing with you like it’s his favorite game, and when your hands fly up to his chest to push him away—halfhearted and weak—he just chuckles, pressing a fleeting kiss to the corner of your lips before pulling back, eyes gleaming. “Baby,” he muses, hands still resting on you, still making your skin burn. “you’re not fooling anyone.”

𓍯𓂃 atsumu miya

Atsumu is shameless, and he knows exactly what he’s doing when he tugs you in by the waist—fast, effortless, like it’s second nature. One second you’re standing there, minding your own business, and the next, his hands are locked around you, pulling you flush against him with a grip that’s all confidence and zero hesitation. He leans in close, lips hovering just over your ear, his breath warm and teasing as his fingers flex against your sides. “Didn’t expect that, did ya?” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement, his smirk pressed into the curve of your jaw. He waits for it, the way your breath stutters, the way your hands instinctively clutch at his arms like he’s the only thing keeping you upright. And when your cheeks go hot, when you finally manage to stammer out something incoherent, he chuckles—low, deep, and entirely too smug. “Aww, look at ya,” he coos, tilting his head back just enough to drink in your flustered expression, his grip on you tightening like he has no plans of letting go. “Y’always get this shy when I touch ya like this?”

As if he hasn’t already wrecked you enough, he gives your waist a playful squeeze, pulling you in just a fraction closer—like he needs you there, pressed up against him. His smirk deepens when you suck in a sharp breath, and before you can even think of escaping, he dips his head, brushing his lips against your temple in a featherlight tease. “Mmh,” he mutters, his voice laced with pure mischief, fingers still firm against your sides. “I think I like ya even more when you’re speechless.”

𓍯𓂃 tendou satori

Tendō is usually all sharp grins and endless chatter, but when he goes silent—really silent—it’s dangerous. You’re mid-sentence, voice steady, trying to keep your train of thought, but then it happens. His gaze flickers down—just for a second—to your lips, slow and deliberate, before dragging back up to your eyes. And suddenly, every word dies in your throat. He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t tease, just watches you with that unnervingly intense stare, his crimson eyes dark with something unreadable, something that sends a shiver straight down your spine. The weight of his gaze alone sets you on fire, but it’s the way he tilts his head slightly, as if considering something, as if debating whether to act on whatever thought just crossed his mind, that really makes you unravel. He leans in just a little, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, and then—just when you think he might actually kiss you—he pulls back with a hum, lips curling into a knowing smirk. “What’s wrong?” he muses, amusement dripping from his voice as he rests his chin in his palm. “You were saying something, right?”

𓍯𓂃 osamu miya

Osamu isn’t the type to make a big show of affection, but when he does? It’s enough to knock the air from your lungs. You don’t even hear him coming—not until his arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against his chest in one smooth, effortless motion. A startled gasp escapes you, but before you can even process the warmth of him, his lips brush against your cheek—soft, slow, but deliberate. The heat of his breath lingers against your skin, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t let go, just holds you there like he has all the time in the world. “Didn’t mean to scare ya,” he murmurs, his voice low, lazy, but there’s something smug beneath it—something that tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. His grip tightens just slightly, his fingers pressing into your hips as he tilts his head, his lips barely an inch from your ear now. “But ya went all quiet on me,” he muses, his tone rich with amusement. “That mean ya liked it?”

𓍯𓂃 suna rintaro

Suna doesn’t just hug you—he engulfs you, his arms locking around you in a way that makes it impossible to escape, like he needs you this close. His body is warm against yours, solid, unyielding, but it’s the way his lips press against your neck—slow, unhurried—that really sets your skin on fire. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t give you a second to breathe, just keeps kissing along the sensitive curve of your throat, each press of his lips sending a shiver down your spine. His grip tightens as you squirm, a deep hum vibrating in his chest like he finds your reaction amusing. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and laced with something dark, something teasing. Another kiss—this time just beneath your ear, slower, more deliberate. “You’re shakin’,” he notes, his tone smug, his arms still locked around you, holding you in place. He finally pauses, just for a second, his breath hot against your neck. “Too much for you?” But before you can even think of answering, his lips are back on you—this time, with even less restraint.

𓍯𓂃 kenma kozume

Kenma is subtle, effortless in the way he completely disarms you without even trying. He doesn’t say anything when he leans into you, just rests his head against your shoulder like it’s second nature, like you were made to support him. The warmth of him seeps into your skin, and you swear your heartbeat stumbles, but he stays perfectly calm—his fingers idly seeking yours out, lacing them together in a loose but deliberate grip. It’s such a simple thing, the way he holds your hand, the way his thumb brushes absentmindedly against your skin, but it sends a rush of warmth straight to your cheeks. You try to focus on anything else, anything but the way he’s practically melting against you, so at ease, so soft—but then he sighs, the tiniest, most content sound, and you swear your heart nearly gives out. He shifts slightly, just enough to glance up at you through half-lidded golden eyes, his expression unreadable. And then, as if sensing your flustered state, he squeezes your hand once and murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, “You’re warm.” Simple. Quiet. But enough to wreck you completely.

𓍯𓂃 tsukishima kei

Tsukishima isn’t one for big displays of affection, but when he decides to fluster you? He doesn’t miss. It happens so fast you barely have time to process it—one second, you’re standing beside him in a crowded space, and the next, he’s leaning down, his height making it effortless for him to hover just over you. His breath brushes against your ear, his voice so low, so quiet, that it’s meant for you and no one else. “I love you.” Three simple words, but the way he says them—soft, deliberate, intimate—has your entire body locking up. You feel his smirk before you even see it, the faintest tilt of his lips as he pulls back just enough to watch your reaction, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. He doesn’t need to tease, doesn’t need to say anything else—he just watches, waiting for the inevitable flush to creep up your neck, for the way your fingers twitch like you don’t know what to do with yourself. And then, as if he didn’t just ruin you in the middle of a public space, he straightens up, pushing his glasses up with an infuriating nonchalance. “What? Did you want me to say it louder?”

𓍯𓂃 hajime iwaizumi

Iwaizumi doesn’t even think about it—it’s instinct, second nature, the way his hand always finds its place on your waist. It doesn’t matter where you are or who’s around; his grip is firm, steady, possessive in a way that makes your heart race every single time. He’ll guide you through a crowd with an effortless pull, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make your breath catch. Or worse—he’ll stand behind you, his palm resting against your hip like it belongs there, his thumb absentmindedly stroking slow, teasing circles against your skin. And he acts so casual about it, barely even glancing at you while you’re left burning under his touch. But then—when he finally does look down at you, noticing the way you tense, the way your fingers grip at your clothes like you’re trying to compose yourself—he smirks, tilting his head slightly. “What’s with that look?” he murmurs, voice low, teasing. “You get flustered that easily?” His fingers tighten just slightly, a silent reminder of how close he is, and when you stammer out something incoherent, he just chuckles, leaning in to mutter, “Better get used to it, sweetheart.”

𓍯𓂃 semi eita

Semi doesn’t do things halfway—when he kisses you, he really kisses you. It’s never just a soft peck or a fleeting brush of lips; it’s deep, deliberate, and all-consuming. And the fact that he does it in public? That just makes it worse. One second, you’re standing there, minding your business, and the next, his hand is gripping your jaw, tilting your face up to his before his lips crash against yours. It’s not just a kiss—it’s claiming, his tongue sliding against yours with no hesitation, no shame, like he wants people to see. His fingers press into your skin, keeping you close, holding you in place as he kisses you like he has something to prove. And when he finally pulls back—leaving you breathless, your lips tingling, your entire body burning—he just smirks, brushing his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “What?” he murmurs, voice low, teasing. “Too much for you?” His eyes gleam with amusement, knowing damn well he just wrecked you in front of everyone, and as he leans in again, lips barely an inch from yours, he adds, “Better get used to it, babe. I’m not done yet.”

[solvisun]

012825. moon carved, love written on skin

tsukishima kei x reader . . . cw / tsukki has a back tattoo. fluff. not proofread and i am sleepy. i dreamt about this lmao. notes / when will i stop writing for this 6ft stickbug pls. (gn again im gonna eep)

tsukishima kei, years after high school, now in his mid-twenties. no longer the snot-nosed looking teenager that he once was, more taller, and softer and tender and so much more forgiving of himself— allowing his vulnerabilities to slip through quite easily with you.

then there's the tattoo, one he doesn't tell you about until now.

you only find out when the two of you are lounging at home one night, moonlight filtering through the curtains, bathing his skin in a dim-lit glow, low music humming in the background. he's lying facedown on the bed, his shirt discarded, and his glasses abandoned on the bedside table. he almost fooled you, making it seem like he’s sleeping, with slow breaths and closed eyes.

you see it clearly, the moon cycle inked onto his back.

“love,” you murmur, your voice laced with curiosity, careful as to confirm if he’s actually out like a light or not, “when were you planning to tell me about this?”

he stiffens almost instinctively, your fingers trace the faint outlines of his shoulder blades, trying to ease him. he turns his head slightly, one eye peeling open, the corner of his mouth curves in faint amusement, as if he didn’t anticipate getting caught in the first place. “wasn’t planning to.”

your hands explore the tattoo—the phases of the moon, spanning the breadth of his back and etched in crisp black ink. each phase feels like a pulse of one’s heartbeat you’ve come to learn and memorize, mirroring the cycles of your lives together: waxing, waning, full, and new.

“why the moon?” you ask softly, running a fingertip along the crescent. you’d never have guessed that the man you’ve come to love had anything as sentimental as this. feels like another layer of intimacy you’ve set foot on, a secret unearthed by the only person he’s planned to reveal it, almost as if this occurrence was already predetermined by him.

he trusts you so much it hurts, in a good way.

he hums, burying his face into the pillow, muffling his voice. “it’s for you.”

“for me?”

“yeah. don’t make me explain it—it’s embarrassing,” he grumbles, his ears tinged red. even more so when you chuckle whilst letting your hand caress his back.

but you can’t stop smiling, “no, no, kei. you can’t drop something like that and not explain.”

he groans into the pillow, but you don’t miss the way his fingers twitch against the sheets, betraying his nerves. after a beat, he rolls over onto his side, propping his head up with one hand, the other resting on his stomach, he looks at you and—your smile curls into a smirk, raising one eyebrow playfully—and then he urges you to join him.

so you do. cuddling into him as he sigh in faux resignation and gently planting a kiss to your temple. the old habits from his teenage years die hard.

“it’s... stupid,” he starts, hesitating.

you interrupt, your voice gentle but insistent. “i want to know.”

he exhales, trying to steel himself, his gaze fixating somewhere over your shoulder. “it’s the phases of the moon. you know, waxing, waning... all that.”

“i can see it, thanks,” you tease lightly, earning yourself a flat look.

“let me finish,” he mutters, his cheeks slightly pink. he fiddles with the hem of the blanket before continuing, quieter now. “it’s... because you remind me of the moon. you’re constant—always there—even if i’m too blind or stupid to notice it sometimes. and even when things feel... off, like everything’s dark, i know you’re still there, just waiting to come back.”

your chest tightens, his words sinking into you, pulls you in like gravity.

“you’re always changing, too,” he adds, his voice steady but soft. “growing, shifting... but still you. and i—” he pauses, swallowing thickly before meeting your gaze again, his expression open and raw in a way the ache never buries itself, only stretched into a shelter inside you that is love. “i just wanted something permanent. something for me. to remind me of you, even when you’re not... here.”

you blink rapidly, trying to keep your emotions in check, but your voice wavers when you respond. “...that’s not stupid at all.”

he scoffs lightly, looking away again, but there’s a faint smile tugging at his lips. “a little, still.”

“it’s perfect,” you counter, sliding closer to press your forehead against his. “and you’re lucky you explained it, or i might’ve cried.”

“you’re already crying,” he points out, brushing a thumb against your cheek, his voice teasing but tender.

“my bad.”

he laughs quietly, you stare at the moon with warmth.

his thumb lingers on your cheek, tracing gentle circles, “you’re ridiculous,” you say, though your voice carries no malice—just a kind of awe tinged in disbelief. “keeping this to yourself for so long…”

he shrugs one shoulder, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“you have an entire tattoo on your back—dedicated to me—and you thought it wasn’t worth mentioning?”

he opens his mouth to respond but falters, and for a second, you see the remnants of his old high school self, the boy who avoids vulnerability like it was a volleyball hurtling toward him. but he doesn’t retreat now, he lets you see him in full view.

“it’s not that i didn’t want to tell you,” he admits. “it’s just… i didn’t know how. or when. and i guess…” he trails off, his brows knitting together like he’s trying to piece together the right words. “i guess i wanted it to be... ours, you know? just ours. something no one else gets to know about.”

you cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, and he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut.

“kei,” you murmur, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

his eyes flutter open, half-lidded gaze as he blinks to your lips, “you’re being dramatic.”

“no, i’m being honest,” pressing a kiss to his forehead as you continue, “you’re incredible, and this—” your hand moves to trace the outline of his tattoo again, arms stretched to reach his back, fingers light and reverent. “this means the world to me.”

you hear the slight hitch of his breath. the way his arms tighten around you says more than words ever could. “i’m glad you like it,” he murmurs eventually, breathless.

“i love it. just like i love you.”

“good,” he says, his voice teasing but soft. “because i don’t plan on getting rid of it.”

“good,” you echo, settling back against him, your head resting on his chest. you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, it’s telling you what you already know, but always search for a reminder: you’re home with him.

the two of you stay like that for a while, until kei speaks again,

“i guess this means you’re stuck with me now,” he says, his tone light but tinged with something deeper. he chuckles to himself, “i love you, too.” and he’s glad these words are already carved to his skin. his own museum he’s carved just for you.

© SOLVISUN 2025. all rights reserved, do not repost/alter.

[buniwrite]

"i'm home" you announce as you leave your bag on the table, but you don't receive the usual welcome "hello? kei?" you approach the bedroom, where you expect him to be, and he is, sitting by the edge of the bed staring at his phone. the only sound that fills the room is the music that's leaking out of his headphones.

"hey" you softly say as you approach him from behind, lovingly caressing his shoulder with your right hand, as your left one settles into his waist.

his gaze finally meets yours, and you can tell just by the look his eyes give you that today wasn't his day. his hands reach for his headphones after pausing the music and settling his phone aside. "bad day?" you whisper, moving both your hands to his upper back to massage his troubles away.

"hmm yeah, don't wanna talk about it now though" he answers, matching your lower tone. "want me to make you something? you must be hungry it's almost ten" you ask him as he starts to turn around. "maybe later, just wanna lay with you for a bit".

years ago tsukishima would've never imagined he'd be in the position he is today, leaving his pride aside and snuggling into your chest in the intimacy of your shared bedroom. if you had told him he'd be this vulnerable with you, he probably would've laughed. but seeing it now it makes sense, being able to show you his weakest sides without fear, knowing that all you'll do is make him better.

just a small drabble of timeskip tsukishima being vulnerable

thank you for reading ♡

masterlist | about me | request rules

[hayoomii]

ILYTOW⋆˚࿔

500ish words / tsukishima kei x f!reader

fluff , use of Y/N , sweet kisses , tsukki being pretty cheesy tbh

“Tsukishima…”  Y/N’s voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the quiet melody drifting from the speaker.

“Hm?”  He cocks his head to look at her.  The blond is caught off guard, however, when he notices just how close she is.  And as if it is second nature to him, his gaze flickers down to her lips as quickly as lightning strikes.  Shit, he thinks.  He hopes she didn’t notice.

“What?”  The boy asks more adamantly this time, faux annoyance adorning his features.

She giggles lightly, “You’re really good at that, y’know…”

“Good at what?”  Tsukishima’s eyebrow quirks up.

“Acting mean,” this time her eyes look down at his lips, “but you’re lucky I know better.  You’re too nice to me.”

At this point, the space between them is rapidly closing, and Tsukki only has time to gulp and chuckle nervously before that distance is nonexistent.

Y/N’s lips are soft.  Her kiss is light, and Tsukishima can't help but let out a breath through his nose close enough to a whine.  He doesn't understand how she can make him feel this way so easily.  It's almost like he could start floating at any moment.  Or maybe his heart would race right out of his chest - rushing to burrow itself closer to hers.  Not that he would complain, though.  Deep down, he thinks it’d be happier that way…

Her nose nudges against his as she tilts her head slightly, pressing further into him, now gliding her gentle hands up his chest and around the nape of his neck.  She fiddles with the short blond tendrils there briefly before fully embracing him.

After a few moments, she pulls back.  Tsukshima’s lips subconsciously follow hers – like it’s some natural instinct to keep them melded together – but he’s stopped by a light peck on the tip of his nose.

He opens his eyes this time, lashes fluttering in a daze as he takes in the image before him.

She’s beautiful.

Tsukishima sighs imperceptibly.  He knows if she could read his thoughts she’d smack him for thinking such lies.  But, they’re not lies. And, he wishes, more than anything, for her to believe it too.

“Kei,” he swears he could get drunk just off her voice, “you’re so pretty.”

The boy blinks slowly once, then twice before finally registering her words.  And, without even thinking, the next words slip out of his mouth.

“That’s my line.”

If it were any other man than the one and only Tsukishima Kei, it wouldn’t have been so surprising.  But, it is him, and the shade of red that flushes across Y/N’s entire face, and down past the collar of her shirt, is almost record-breaking for the amount of time it occurred in.  In order to hide her embarrassment quickly, she slumps forward, face resting comfortably in the crook of his neck.

“Stop,” she mumbles, “that was too cheesy…”  Tsukki chuckles at her barely audible statement, trying not to squirm from her tickling breath.

“Don’t try to hide the fact that you liked it.  And, that makes you cheesy,” he whispers directly into her ear, which earns a quiet groan from the girl.

She pulls herself halfway out of her hiding spot but stops to leave a chaste kiss on his jaw.

“You’re stupid,” she says plainly.

“Yeah, yeah.  I love you too, or whatever.”

notes : this is the very first fic i have ever written with the intention of posting, so please be gentle! let me know what you think! i hope to post more in the near future <3

song : Peppers (feat. Tommy Genesis) by Lana Del Rey

Divider from saradika-graphics !