#tsukshima kei

[kokokoula]

you fall first, but he falls harder

a/n: i can only write fluff, so please trust me that it's fluff. there's like, one usage of 'she', timeskip spoilers, and a bit of language. it's my longest fic yet (which isn't saying much), no beta we die like daichi

you don't know that tsukishima kei knows about your crush on him. it's so damn obvious, how you turn red so easily when he's around. unfortunately for you, though, he doesn't reciprocate, nor does he bother confronting you about it. you are his closest friend other than yamaguchi, and as much as he hates to admit it, he doesn't want to lose you as one. it's so tedious, anyways.

---

"it's our last year in karasuno, do you have anything planned?" you ask as you lay on the floor of tsukishima's room. you're supposed to be studying, since it was what you came over to do with kei and tadashi, but you gave up somewhere halfway in geography.

"it is my last year, but who knows about you? you've been slacking so much, you'd probably have to repeat a year. and could you get up?" he sighs and nudges your side with his foot.

"asshole," you mutter, cheeks growing red. if you know that he just dodged your question, you don't do anything about it. "just you wait, i'll enroll into kyoto university and make you eat your words, beanpole."

"sure." his reply drips with sarcasm, but he doesn't doubt that you can make it far. there's a knock at the door.

"sorry for being late!"

"tadashi!!"

---

kei knows you can read him like an open book. you can tell he's having a bad day just by a conversation with him through text. he also knows that when he says that he doesn't want to talk, you immediately ring his phone.

the first time it happened, he had tried to decline your calls, or just ignore them entirely, but you're insistent. eventually he picked up, filled with pure irritation at that point.

"could you--"

"i'm heading over. i promise i won't push for any details. i'll even get strawberry shortcake on the way." you immediately stated. he paused to mull it over.

"fine, but if the cake sucks, i'm kicking you out." it's safe to say that the cake was good enough to make this a habit, so much so that tsukshima doesn't even know why you still call him to let him know you're coming over. the both of you know you will no matter what.

so here you are, sitting on his bedroom floor with him and eating desserts in silence, save for the music playing softly from his computer.

"you're gonna get in trouble with your parents when they realise you snuck out." he remarks. you shrug your shoulders, stuffing the remaining taiyaki in your mouth.

"i know."

"don't talk with your mouth full." you roll your eyes with a furious blush. somehow, you being here with him becomes sweeter than the strawberry shortcake.

---

you were there when tsukishima made the decision to go professional with volleyball.

his last match as karasuno's middle blocker had ended. his body was sore all over, but somehow the freak duo managed to convince him and yamaguchi to play one more match back at school, just the four of them with yachi. but even with landing third in nationals and a final intimate match with his teammates, he still somehow felt so unsatisfied.

the walk home with you was silent. he was grateful you didn't say anything. he couldn't handle any more questions about how he was feeling when he himself was unsure. it was when you two stepped outside the convenience store after getting ice cream did he come to the conclusion that he never wants to have a last match.

"i'm not going to give up on volleyball after graduation." he announced out of the blue. you were caught off guard for a bit, before grinning at him. "i expected that."

"why?"

"you call hinata and kageyama freaks for being so insane about volleyball, but you don't even realise that you're just as equally crazy about it as them." you said it so nonchalantly as you eat your ice cream, like you're stating a fact. now it was his turn to be taken off guard. he took a while to let it settle in before chuckling softly.

he should have known that you know him better than he does himself.

---

it's graduation day. tsukishima and kageyama are stuck with their four teary-eyed friends by their side. kei awkwardly pats your head, not knowing how to comfort you. you laugh at his feeble attempt, your rosy cheeks burning red. have you always been this cute? in the midst of all the bittersweet interactions, you get distracted by something on your phone, and let out a gasp.

"what is it, (name)?" yamaguchi asks. you're trembling slightly, and tsukishima grows worried.

"i, uh, got into kyoto university," you say in disbelief. "i actually got in!" everyone congratulates you, but you only care about one thing.

"tsukki, remember that day i told you i'd make you eat your words?" he hums in acknowledgement. you shove the acceptance email in his face, but he can only focus on how proud you look with that shit-eating smirk. "what do you have to say now, beanpole?"

he smiles. that's my best friend right there.

"nothing."

---

you were gone before the new year, and kei was handling your absence well until semester started. he had believed it'd be fine, you were only across the country, not across the world. plus, you promised you would call as often as you could.

but he doesn't sees you in his classes anymore, and you don't come over when he's having a bad day. he got himself strawberry shortcake to lighten his mood like it usually does, but he only feels hollow. it doesn't help that since he's going pro, his volleyball training is almost everyday now, and with your commitments, he rarely gets to call you anymore. it hurts like hell inside.

"hey tsukki, you've been off recently. is everything ok?" tadashi calls him one day.

"i'm fine, yamaguchi." kei lies. tadashi isn't convinced.

"does it have something to do with (name) being in kyoto?"

"why would you say that?" he answered too quickly for his liking.

"well, you bring (name) up quite a bit, and when you realise she isn't there, you get all quiet and snappy." tsukishima is about to retort back, but then it hits him.

oh shit, he's in love.

---

the day you finally return back to miyagi to visit, tsukishima waits at the station with yamaguchi. kei's eyes are constantly searching the crowd and flickering to his watch every so often.

"tsukki, relax, she'll be here soon." he ignores tadashi's reassurance.

tsukishima kei is a composed man, always able to think before he acts. but when he catches sight of you, he runs. before you can register anything, he hugs you, gripping onto you like a lifeline, like he will die if he lets go of you.

"tsukki--"

"gosh, i missed you so much, you idiot." he knows you could have easily lost feelings for him when you were away.

"wha--"

"i've suffered so much because of your stupid, dumb ass." he doesn't care.

"wait--"

"i like you, so go out with me before you have to head back to kyoto." you're back, and he's scared to lose you again. every second you stay quiet, the louder his heart beats in his ears.

"really?" you finally say, your voice barely over a whisper.

"yea." another pause.

"guess i'm yours then, beanpole."

bonus:

"you know, i knew about your crush back in high school."

"what the heck?"

"you didn't necessarily hide it well."

"then i'll have you know that yamaguchi told me everything that had happened when i've been gone."

"...fuck."

[hatsukeii]

think fast / childhood bsf!tsukshima kei x reader

genre(s): childhood best friends x soulmates???? past lives and normal people by sally rooney coded im a sally rooney MEATRIDER!! angsty, gut-wrenching longing, bittersweet / hopeful ending so it's not all bad!! nostalgia is going to carry this fic so hard it's going to be a fun, fun time...

warning(s): eventual smut!! all characters are aged up to 21!!MDNI (at least up until the observatory)!! unprotected sex here remember to wrap it before you tap it!! (sorry kids), female leaning anatomy because smut but pronouns are gn all throughout and honestly you could read it as gn anyways:)) dead dad warning (my dad is NOT dead this was just convenient to kick off the thing), i fw the timeline of the world??? pretend flip phones were still in use in like 2012 or something idk

wc: ~6.3k

tldr; time has a way of reminding Kei of its presence, and its escape. you are the reminder it has been sending to him for six years.

Fate: A power believed to cause and control all events, so that one cannot change or determine the way things will happen. 

It is a sunny afternoon when you step foot into Sendai, Miyagi. A beautiful day of golden warmth beaming onto petals of pink, red, and white, wrapped in coffee-stained newspapers and tied together with a spool of twine. The bouquet lies on browning grass, a contemptible reminder of the time that has passed since your last appearance here, six years ago, and you crouch down to the ground. Now face to face with the engraving of a full name on a slab of polished granite, you hesitate. Your father lived in a language that you can no longer speak, died in a country you no longer call your home. When you whisper blessings and apologies at the gravestone in broken Japanese and slurred syllables, you sound like a stranger. A stranger who sits in a graveyard at noon, with nothing but a bouquet from the nearby florist in hand, and a promise, stuttered out in half-decent Japanese, to return again the next year. 

When a second bouquet falls to the ground behind you, and you turn around, Tsukishima Kei thinks this is what English speakers like you would call fate. He’s a little taller now, and bulkier too, and you have to crane your head higher than you remember just to meet his eyes. You don’t recognise the glasses he dons anymore, the black rectangles from his teenage years swapped out for rounded squares and silver frames. But he has a towel in his hand, a towel that has his initials poorly stitched into the corner with red string. You wonder if the matching one he made you, eleven years ago, is collecting dust somewhere in your dormitory, halfway across the world. 

“You’re back.”

“It’s been a while, Kei.”

You can no longer differentiate Japanese syllables clearly, and your statement jumbles into nonsense in your head. Kei hears the English woven into your accent in the way you roll your tongue like foreigners do, and in the odd intonations that don’t exist in your mother tongue. You don’t even remember your father’s dislike for white flowers. London has truly done a number on you. 

“Why? Why now?”

You bite your nail, a persistent habit that Kei frowns at. He picks up his flowers, and steps towards the gravestone, just close enough for your knee to brush against him for a moment. The bouquet in his hand is wrapped in plastic and filled with red and pink, the white from your own sticking out like a sore thumb when he places his flowers gently on the grass beside yours. He tosses the towel in his hand, opening it up against his palm, and you take it from him. If you cannot get the language right, or the flowers, this is the least you can do. Cobwebs stick to the fabric as you sweep at the granite slab, watching soot and dust fall to the grass. The curves and dips of the gravestone are familiar once again, and you dig the towel into every nook and cranny. You feel Kei’s body shift, before his knee is touching yours and his face is finally level with your peripheral vision. He glances at you, waiting. His knees bounce in anticipation. 

“Never had the chance, college has been a lot.”

Your phone rings as you finish cleaning. The ringtone is familiar, unchanged from when you used to have a flip phone, in fact. Kei hums along to the jingle for the four seconds that the call is left unanswered, before it cuts off into a flurry of English. He catches something about research, and a thesis, his shabby English unable to fill in any more than that. He’s never known you were interested in research, let alone what it is that you’re researching. All he’s known is your aspiration of becoming a librarian when you were six, and his promise to borrow books from you for the museum that he swore he would one day work at. Now, he works at the museum, sorts antique scripts and yellowed books into cabinets and display shelves. He does not borrow books from you. Now, you talk, but nothing makes sense to him.

You end the call, mumbling foreign curses as you shove your phone back into your pocket. Clicking your tongue, you turn to Kei, who stares at the flowers on the ground. He pushes his glasses up when they slide down his nose, and you resist the familiar urge to nag him about buying the right frames for his face. 

“Yeah, college has been mostly phone calls like that.”

He nods, a half-hearted chuckle huffing from his nose. He’s forgotten what it’s like to sit at a graveyard with somebody else, the annual reminder of a lonely death replaced by another this year as you dust off his towel, and drop it onto his thigh. He swipes it from his leg, folding it into quarters and sliding it into his pocket. 

“So you choose to come now, without a word? Not even a heads up? Six years after leaving?” Kei’s voice rises at each question, the same way it did six years ago when you broke the news of leaving Japan to him. This hurts him to ask, that much you can still recognise.

“I would have come sooner if I had the chance. I’ve missed everyone so much.”

You pluck a petal from a white flower in your bouquet, then another, until all that remains is the naked bulb, and scatter them onto the ground beside you. Perhaps the next person that’s been buried under six feet of dirt used to have a liking for them. Kei remains unmoving, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. His knee stops bouncing. 

“How long will you stay for?”

“Today, then Friday and Saturday too. Flight back is Sunday night.”

Six years of waiting, and this is what it amounts to. A weekend and a bit. Despite that, Kei still thinks this must be fate, in all the languages that it exists in. Six years of life, and love, and hurt, all to be condensed into four measly days. Yet as Kei pushes himself off the ground, dusting his trousers off, he still thinks that this unlikely, yet conveniently timed visit must be the answer to his pleas for your return. That this must be some heavenly reward, good karma for visiting your father’s grave annually on your behalf. You watch him turn to leave, and he calls out to you as he walks away from your father’s grave. 

“Everyone’s at Hinata’s old place tomorrow. You should come by if you can.”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Change: to replace (something) with something else, especially something of the same kind that is newer or better; substitute one thing for (another).

All it takes is one coincidental exchange of panicked glances at the first throw up of the night for you and Kei to leave together. Hinata slurs a drunken farewell, tries to embrace you as you slip your sneakers on at the door, and you make a note to yourself that you really do not miss most of the people here, spare for the volleyball team. Kei waits at the door, holding it open for when you finally shake Hinata off of your back, and step through. The night is chilly, the warmth in your skin from the indoor heating system emanating into the midnight air. You kick rocks along the pavement as you walk, scattering pigeons that remain awake and active at this time, and Kei smiles at your antics. You still hate birds, and you still remember the trick he taught you when you were nine for chasing away pigeons that flocked around you for food. 

“Who are you staying with?”

“My mom’s.”

The road leads the two of you to a high school. Kei has not come back to Karasuno since graduation. You squint in the dark, scanning the school, and you don’t recognise the new building that stands in place of the old auditorium. He watches you crouch at the plaque next to the front gate, tracing the letters engraved on it with the pad of your thumb. Some part of him blames Karasuno for being a bad place to you, the other parts blame himself for not being good enough to outweigh it.

“It’s changed.”

“Everything has.”

You rattle the locked entrance, the chain and padlock hitting against cold metal. It won’t open, so you look up through the gap of the gate. Six years ago, on that rooftop, was where you stood over a cold lunch box and emptied convenience store drinks, back against the wire fence, saying to Kei, I’m leaving tomorrow. On that day, you had packed yakisoba for his lunch, and nothing for yourself. He could barely respond to your announcement, only dropping his chopsticks and asking you, why? You told him something along the lines of being an expat, and a better school for what you wanted, all in the fluent Japanese you once spoke. Nothing made sense to him anyways. 

When you turn back to him, his hands are in the pockets of his jacket, and his nose is red from the cold air. You stand beside him, staring aimlessly at Karasuno from outside its barriers. 

“Do you still play volleyball?” 

“Yeah, Sendai Frogs.”

You hum, and then wonder why you only asked tonight, and why you’re surprised. He shrugs, clouds of white puffing from his mouth when he breathes out. He tries to blow a wisp of hair away from his face, and you suddenly realise that his hair has grown too, along with his height. It fails, and he tries again. You reach up to swipe at his bangs, before running your fingers backwards through his hair. It parts itself as you lift your hands from his head, and falls into place neatly. A cold breeze whizzes by, and undoes your work, sending strands of gold into his face once again. You snicker a little.

“You know, you could ask my mom to trim it for you like she used to.”

“Nah, I prefer this.”

It isn’t until you turn to look at him properly that you see how much time has passed. He likes his hair longer these days, the choppy hairdo of his teenage years now nothing but an old preference, and you wonder if he is still a loyal customer of your mother’s salon. When he pulls his hands from his pockets and blows hot air into them, calluses line the bases of his fingers, the blisters of his high school years hardened by trials of time and effort. There are bags under his eyes, eyes that are now a little rounder, and softer too. When he speaks, monotone and tired, you realise his snarkiness has dissipated into general frustration. You stare until his eyes dart to you, and turn away quickly, ashamed. Leaving Karasuno has taken your hand and led you to a purpose that you never knew you were capable of. You wonder what the hell it has done to Tsukishima Kei. 

“It looks good.”

He breathes in sharply, then exhales with a huff, shoulders relaxing as he stuffs his hands back into his pockets. You suddenly realise that your fingers have gone numb from the cold of the night, fingertips tingling like a million frost-bitten needles poking into your skin. You also stuff your hands into your pockets, rubbing your fingers against each other to generate some heat. Then, Kei’s looping his arm around yours, and pulling you away from Karasuno High School. He keeps on his straight path, and you stumble along behind his leaping steps. When you round a corner, the night breeze grows into something less imperturbable, and more vicious, pushing the two of you forward from behind in slashes of cold. The sea is near. 

“Is this the beach we used to go to?”

“You still remember it.”

He drags you down a flight of stairs to Fukanuma Beach, and the misty sea air rushes to your head. When he leads you to the shoreline, you hesitate. The sea has been off limits since the two of you were five, a regulation put in place in remembrance of the Great Sendai Earthquake. An earthquake that saw Kei and yourself hunched beneath the same table in the middle of class, huddled next to each other as you cried for your parents. Now, in your final years of college, as the water slips beneath the soles of his shoes, pushing and receding in layers of aqua and bubbles of white, it seems that time has slipped by just as easily too. Time, that saw the fading of the earthquake’s devastation, despite the loss of thousands, including your father. Time, that frayed the string connecting yourself to Kei as you moved through life halfway across the world from Japan. Time, that passes through you like sand spilling between your fingers on a beach you once thought you knew, but has changed like the unprohibited water that seems to push further up into the shore at each tidal wave. 

“They lifted the ban?”

“A few months ago, yeah.”

You step into the next wave that fizzles into foam, and the water crashes into the toe of your shoes. Crouching, you push mounds of wet sand into a cylinder, flattening the top and pushing divots in equal intervals. Kei joins, moulding shorter ones beside your own and drawing windows into the side. You finish, and he stands, smiling at the creation. You cover the top, afraid he will stomp on it, a trademark of Kei’s whenever you built sandcastles with him in childhood. Instead, he laughs, and walks further into the water. When you get up to join him, the hems of his trousers are soaked, shoes also covered in a sheen of wetness. You hop over the castle, and the next wave that comes sends its foundations crumbling back into the sea. 

“We used to do that. You’d destroy it every time.”

Kei chuckles, and looks back to see the half destroyed castle. Clicking his tongue, he returns to the rubble, and you watch his hands push mounds of sand towards what is left standing. 

“I’d always build a better one for you afterwards though.”

He dusts his hands off when he finishes, and the waves fizzle out just before they hit the two-tiered sandcastle. You sniff, holding your arms close to your chest. When Kei looks up, he feels like the summer of being seven years old again, smiling at you with his missing front tooth when you sniffle and laugh at the improved castle he’s put together for you. Now, it is winter. He only grins with the corners of his lips. You only sniff because it’s cold. 

“Kei.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s really been a while. How have you been?”

He steps over the castle towards you, careful not to break it. Your hair blows in your face from the beach breeze and your eyes squint from the sand that flies into the air, and Kei takes it all in when you’re face to face with him. When he opens his mouth, some selfish part of him thinks about casting his words into shackles of regret, so heavy that they weigh you down and keep you in Japan, in Sendai, on this beach, somewhere close to him.

“Do you want to stay the night? Like you used to?”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Nostalgia: A sentimental longing, or wistful yearning for a return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition.

Kei does not take you to his family house. He leads you up stairs that make no sense, and hallways that stretch on forever, until you finally reach his flat. He wipes his shoes on the doormat, throws his keys into a glass bowl upon entry, and hangs his jacket on a hook mounted to his front door instead of the coathanger that used to stand beside it. You look around, searching for the shells you once collected in a jar for his tenth birthday. When your eyes land on a jar filled with conches and cowries, you let go of a breath you were unaware of holding. They sit on the top of his bookshelf, above textbooks and file organisers. A knot forms in your throat at the realisation that the jar sits alone in its compartment, with nothing beside it. You’ve done the same to the jazz vinyl Kei gifted you at the airport before your departure. You don’t realise that he’s disappeared somewhere as you stare at the shells, until a shirt and a pair of shorts are thrown into your chest. He stands at the entrance to a hallway, donning sweatpants and an old hoodie, one that’s clearly a size too small. The pocket is lousily sewn on, a result of a mishap that occurred when you had borrowed it once. He doesn’t know that you spent the night learning to sew fabric just to fix it.

“Change. It’ll be more comfortable.”

You scurry through the hallway to his bathroom, pulling the shirt and shorts on hastily, before balling up your clothes and returning to the living room. Kei sits at his couch, now bound in leather instead of fabric, and clicks at the television. You join beside him, legs splaying across his own subconsciously. He doesn’t move. He stops at a movie, one you’ve seen hundreds of times before at his old house. It drones on in the background as he watches in silence, his arms now draped over your knees. The first time he watched this movie, it was in his old home, cross-legged on the carpeted ground with you on the couch behind him. Your hands used to press into his shoulders from above, shake them whenever your favourite scenes came on, squeeze them when you laughed until tears rolled from your eyes. Now that his new flat lacks a rug, he’s willing to settle with your legs on his own. Flashing lights illuminate the dark room in sequences that you can still recall perfectly from memory. He watches the movie. You watch him. 

“Have you been doing good, Kei?”

Turning to you, he pushes his glasses up into his hair, leaning further back. You shuffle closer, legs bending as your shoulder digs into the leather couch. A strand of blond falls into his face, and you lift his glasses to tuck it back, before smoothing your hands over his mess of hair, combing and pushing with your fingertips.The words from the television melt into gibberish when he hums in satisfaction, what is unspoken between you two is more glaring than ever.

“I’ve been okay.” He cuts off, then finds himself thinking of what to tell you first, amongst the recollections of life that rush through his head. “Started working at the museum a couple years ago.” He wishes that you still remember the building, where the marble floors squeaked beneath your slippers, and glass panels lined the walls, hiding away treasures and artefacts that have withstood centuries, maybe even eons of erosion and weathering.

You nod, mind filling with the many museum visits you had with him there. He’s always liked the dinosaurs more than the shells. When you breathe out a chuckle, he knows you’re recalling the time he almost pissed himself at a life-sized, moving tyrannosaurus rex model. 

“What about you?”

“Research. I’ve been doing research about…” you sign in the air, searching for the Japanese words that have slipped from your mind. Surrendering, you whip your phone out, searching for a translation. 

“Archaeology?”

“Yeah, that. No more librarian dreams for me. More dinosaurs, though.”

A smile finds its way onto Kei’s face, one that softens his cheeks and flattens his eyes into crescents. He wonders if amongst the silver plaques and digital displays, your work is engraved in there somewhere. If each time he explains something to some bright-eyed child, who scuttles around the museum as you and him once did, he is unknowingly speaking in your language, translated until he can decipher the thoughts that run through your mind in your research, your memories, your dreams too. 

“Maybe it’s in the museum somewhere. I’m willing to bet.”

“I hope it is.”

Your conversation fizzles back into silence, and the characters on the television do too. The two on the screen sit in a field, mere inches apart. The two of you look at each other, your knees now leaned into Kei’s chest and one of his arms draped along the back of the couch. When he pulls his glasses back to his eyes, and studies you all over again, it hits him that you really haven’t changed all that much, even after your six year separation. Six years older, with the exhaustion of a functioning adult, but you still gnaw on your cheeks, and tilt your head as you ask questions. Six years apart, and you are still you, who taught him to build sandcastles, and introduced him to his favourite movie, and fixed his hair whenever it stuck up in stubborn peaks of gold. When you let your eyes close, and drop your head onto his shoulder, you wait for lost time to tick backwards, until you’re on the rooftop with him once again. In this version of time, you blush when you tell him that you’ve chosen to stay in Japan instead. Pushing your head further into the crook of his neck, Kei’s chin reaches over to rest on the top of your crown. The credits of the movie roll in the background, and you mumble into the skin of his pulse. 

“Can you take me there? I’ve missed it.” Your words send vibrations down his spine, sending his head into a frenzy as he pushes his hands against the couch harder. 

“The museum?” It will be closed for the weekend, but Kei nods anyway. He’s sure he can find his way in through the back. Maybe he’ll take you to the fossils again, let you run your fingers along smooth amber and stone engravings. Perhaps he could show you the new exhibitions, ones that you won’t miss this time, as you have for the past six years. For now, he thinks he will let you sleep on his shoulder, listen to your soft snores, tremble at every hot breath that fans onto his neck. 

The credits roll to the end, and come to a stop. Kei removes his arm from the couch to grab the remote from his coffee table. He rewinds the movie to the start.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

思慕 [しぼ, shibo]: yearning; deep longing, especially when accompanied by tenderness or sadness.

On the final night of your stay, you learn that Kei still giggles when he breaks rules, as he drags you through the back entrance of the closed museum. He maneuvers through hallways of antique paintings and repurposed junk, slips into dark stairwells illuminated by the flashlight of his phone, traps your wrist between his fingers and chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he takes you higher, and higher, and higher. You’ve lost count of how many flights of stairs have gone by when he taps his keycard against a sensor by a backdoor, and pushes it open. The museum observatory, once a mess of bamboo scaffolding and green covers, now allows silver moonlight through its glass dome, boasting billions of iridescent stars nestled in a blanket of hazy midnight. A decade of your anticipation has resulted in a circular space, hundreds of plush recliners lining the circumference of the room, and you wonder how many eyes have watched the stars from those seats before you ever had the chance to. When Kei leads you further into the observatory, you step foot onto the north star plastered on the ground in the centre of the room, where nothing but a telescope remains in a ten-foot radius. He takes a spot on the ground, back pressed against the cushioned edge of a seat.

“I figured this is the best spot. Better than any of the seats, actually.” He plants his feet on the ground, bending his knees and spreading them just wide enough for you to sit in between. You cross your legs, wagging them up and down as your hands hold your shins, and he lowers his legs, stretching them out in front of him. Leaning back, your spine hits a spot between his ribs, the same way it did when you were thirteen, and fourteen, and fifteen, staring at stars from the grass of his backyard. You pity the visitors that have yet to discover the simplicity of stargazing from the ground, hands pushed into the ground for stability, dirt and moisture seeping into the fabric of clothing. Pushing further into him, his breathing is heavy against your back, chest rising in rhythmic ups and downs. For what feels like hours, you sit in silence, eyes trained on your fingers that pick and fiddle. At the realisation that you haven’t looked at the stars in years, something bubbles in your stomach, pervasive, relentless. When you finally loll your head backwards to fall on his shoulder, and the tip of Kei’s nose grazes your cheekbone, you wonder how long he has not looked at the stars for as well. 

“Why’d you stop calling?” His sudden question sends a haze rushing into your head.

You swallow thickly. If the passage of time were a sin, you’d burden it with all your explanations. Telling him that now would seem like some lousy excuse.

“It stopped going to your line a year after I left.” You pause, searching for the right words to use amidst the sea of Japanese and English that you must now sort out. “I only stopped trying after another month, the voicemail just said your number was no longer in use.” 

Kei wishes he could dig his fingers into his chest and rip his heart out. If only he hadn’t stupidly broken his phone that night, five years ago during volleyball practice. If only he had checked his pockets before entering the court, just as he has done hundreds of times before. If only he had this, if only he had that, he might just torment himself for the rest of his life. His breath hitches, shoulder freezing rigid. Time does not differentiate between the knowing and oblivious. It slips and leaks beneath the noses of all that it encompasses, and it is but the cautious few that know to grab it, and join in on its journey. He knows now that he is not one of them, not after he’s cursed at the passage of time over and over and over for his own blunder.

“I broke my phone in a game. Got a new one so the number changed as well, fuck me.”

You laugh dryly into the empty observatory. The occasional twinkling of the stars above do nothing to make his explanation any easier. You think you’ll blame it all on doomed fate that you’ve spent five years trying to find somebody that felt the same as Kei did, to no avail. Blame it on cursed luck that you’ve clawed and grabbed at anything familiar enough, archaeology, jazz vinyls, old DVDs of the movie shared between two, all to remind yourself that he too, was once within grasp. You say nothing, because you don’t see a reason to. Instead, you push your head into his neck, drown in the scent of his cologne, ease yourself into his now grown body. You don’t see him wipe a hand across his mouth, then rub his eyes with pinched fingers. 

When Kei decides to speak again, it is what feels like another hour later. He’s readjusted his posture about fifty times by now, arms removed from the ground and draped over your shoulders. The sensation of your hair against his skin is suddenly more prominent than ever when your hands find his own, holding them closer to yourself.

“If I didn’t find you at the grave, would you have looked for me?” His question is heavy, weighing his chest down as the words leave his throat in a hesitant cluster. You turn to look at him, and your eyes linger on his own when you squeeze his hands once, twice, then a third time. 

“I’ve been looking for five years. Nobody else could take me home.” Your heart rushes to your mouth at your confession, and the bob of Kei’s throat does not go unnoticed. One of his hands comes up to hold your shoulder, pushing it towards himself until your body twists, rubbing against his. You let go of him, pressing your fingers into the ground between his legs instead, and he breathes out shakily, his windpipe suddenly cleared of its uncertainty.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes, I am.”

His fingers slide down to grab your wrist, before going numb completely. His unoccupied hand peels itself from the floor and settles on the side of your waist. Your mouth goes dry when Kei breathes, hot and heavy, his eyes travelling to every inch of you. A bout of heat rushes from his chest to his head, and his legs, and his arms too. The air between the two of you is thick, and it sends your head into a feverish blur. The ground collapses beneath your knees as they shift to press into the floor, and you come face to face with Tsukishima Kei, who prefers his hair parted in bangs on the sides of his face, and wears silver frames instead of black ones. Tsukishima Kei, who has been visiting your father’s grave on your behalf for six years, and still plays volleyball even in his adulthood. Tsukishima Kei, whose eyes are finally finished with their ventures across your figure, that is pushed up against him on the ground of an observatory, and is learning whatever he can about you when his fingers tighten around your wrists and he kisses you without a warning. 

Once, at the young, innocent age of seven, Tsukishima Kei kissed you in this museum. You had run a little too fast, stepped on your loose laces and fallen onto the ground face first. You sulked at a bench facing some random painting of melting clocks, red dots scattered across a purple patch right beneath your eye. When he kneeled in front of you to grab your face, and pressed his lips onto the bruise for a fraction of a second, he must have kissed the pain away, mending the leaking capillaries beneath your skin as he separated from your cheeks with a pop. Now, he pulls against your wrists to push himself closer, traps you in the embrace of his legs around the back of your thighs, wheezes and stutters against your lips at the lack of oxygen in his lungs. His head is running in circles instead of straight paths, and everything is spinning. When your hands reach to grab at his shirt, and palm at his chest, he pulls away only to rip his glasses off and toss them to the ground. Beneath the glow of the moon from above, everything but your flushed cheeks and swollen lips is a blur. You take half a breath in, before it is interrupted by Kei’s palms pulling you in by the sides of your neck, and his mouth on yours again. At seven years old, he ripped bruising pain away from your face with a kiss. At twenty-one, he forces his pain, and grief, and regret rushing into your heart by pushing himself against you, fingers tangling themselves into your hair as he kisses you, desperate, almost distressed. Every tug at your lips is a confession left unspoken, every time Kei opens his mouth apologies spill out into you in choked groans and sighs. At the sensation of his hand leaving your neck, your arm searches for him aimlessly, before he’s palming at you through your pants. He swallows your sudden gasp, and your fingers grip his wrist until your knuckles go white. 

“Did you ever like me?” You can do nothing but choke out a question against his lips, one you’ve pondered about, day in and day out, since your departure from Japan.

By the way that Kei nods frantically, you’re certain that this is what six years of separation has amounted to. 

Sparing no time, your fingers tug at the hem of his boxers, pulling them down just enough to release himself from the fabric constraints. He does the same, hands roaming until they find the waistband of your pants to push them down, fingers tugging your underwear to the side with a flick. He grabs you by the waist beneath your shirt, yanks your body towards him until something feels right and he can’t help but let out a trembling sigh into your shoulder. And when you finally begin to sink yourself onto him, agonisingly slow, you wish that you had never left Japan in the first place. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you wish that you could spend the rest of your life in this observatory with Kei, your hands wrapped around the back of his sweat-slicked neck. 

When he pulls you down to push further, more pervasively, you fall into him, head hanging over his shoulder and arms squeezing around his neck. His inexperienced hands rock you back and forth against his hips, pulling a flurry of gasps and moans from your throat. He lets himself learn how you taste when his teeth tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it down to expose your bare shoulder. His lips latch onto your collarbone, biting and sucking a trail of red marks up to the side of your neck. You shudder at his advances, and he studies the way your walls flutter around him, the erratic pulses that draw stars around his head, how your nails dig into his shoulders, and send his mind into a senseless orbit. 

When he pushes and pulls at you a little harder, you whimper his name into his ear, reduced to nothing but a babbling mess that nibbles at his neck and kisses up his jaw feverishly. First friend, first kiss, first love. The notion that this is another first that Tsukishima Kei has brought upon you sends your mind spiralling. He should have been your first prom date, first roommate, first dance too. If only you hadn’t left him first. You push your head off his shoulder, hands moving to hold his face instead. A wave of pleasure washes over you when his palm presses against your stomach, and you hang your head low again, a shaky sigh released from your chest. 

When you look up, there are tears in Kei’s eyes. He rolls his head back onto the plush seat behind him, hands lifting you off himself fully, just to push you back onto him again. You collapse into his body, palms pressing against his heaving chest. 

“I- fuck! I fucking loved you! I still do!” He speaks it into the glass ceiling as one hand reaches for his face. He wipes his palm across his eyes, only for more tears to form. They are uncontrollable, relentless as he turns his head away from you. He isn’t sure how he will live again tomorrow, not when he’s finally come to a reckoning with the pang in his chest at every thought of you. He thinks he could die the second you step onto that flight back to London, ripped away from him once again. The reality that he cannot stay buried inside you for any longer than the next couple of minutes haunts him to no end, the idea of being separated from you a second time unbearable to even imagine. When he turns back to see you, head on his chest and fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, he decides that reality can wait until he’s finished with you. 

“I love you too- shit, Kei! I never stopped!”

You rut against his hips senselessly now, chasing some unfamiliar high as your vision fades to black and you scream his name until your throat goes hoarse. Kei barely gives you time to breathe, before he’s coming undone from right beneath you, shuddering and groaning as you relax against his body and go limp. He holds you against him, one hand pushing your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your back. He tucks your damp hair behind your ears, places kisses along your temple so he can hear the hums of satisfaction that sound from your curled lips. 

“Can you stay forever?” He mumbles into your hair, and you turn to press your ear against his chest. His heart pounds as he pushes his cheek into the crown of your head, and your hands crawl up his chest to wrap around his neck. When he looks up through the glass ceiling, the stars have not moved one bit.

“I’ll find you again, wherever you are.”

Time may slip away from Tsukishima Kei like petals that fall off the buds of flowers, water that seeps beneath the soles of his sneakers, stardust that hovers above the atmosphere. Yet he has learned that it has a way of always coming back to remind him of its presence, and its escape. You are the reminder that it has been sending to him for six years.

author's note:

ERM! never writing nsfw again that's for sure but this piece defs had some stuff that i was very, VERY proud of coming up with!! sorry to my minor moots who probably won't read this in its entirety bc of the big MDNI warning... but I honestly don't know how to feel about this piece as a whole... i was super excited to write it but i think i got a little impatient towards the end esp since im always writing at like 3am LOL but i hope you guys liked it anyways!!! i tried really hard to make the dynamic work and i hope it did!!!!!

also ps they exchange numbers again js a little extra bonus that i didn’t get to put into the actual thing

anyways tags!!

@staraxiaa @chuuya-brainrot @akaakeis @laughingfcx @writingsofanomnivore @t0rchknight @bailey-reeds @wyrcan @hiraethwa @fiannee @catsoupki @anonymity-222 @wishi-selfships @kuroppiii

ok love u guys thank u for being patient

[bao4aohao]

chap 1 - normal day

-> lowercase intended, 3rd pov -> warnings !! - none

You HATED physics but sadly you majored in physics, ironic isn't it?

you just hated it.

physics wasn't hard, in fact it was pretty straightforward to you if you actually studied and revise the topic. although the subject by itself wasn't hard, classes were worst. period. you dreaded it every second as you continue to hit the keys on your laptop, rushing to type in every second you got.

blaming on the boring talks and lectures, you often found yourself revising and writing your own notes before class. Then, staring on new ones during class. To you, the teachers wasn't as effective and felt it didn't benefited you at all so you decided to be one step ahead as a academic achiever you are.

walking into class as per usual, you got to your seat at the back. you put down your matcha latte that you had purchased, on your desk before starting your notes for the next week. Students started pouring in and soon the class was full.

you felt a tap on your shoulder and saw your best friend. you can't NOT notice that orange hair in the crowd of people. The cherry friend sat beside you as he smiled, radiating that natural happiness you needed.

" shoyou! so glad to see you bruh, I thought you wouldn't make it " you pouted, but giggled as you hugged him which he returned.

He laughed, " wellllllll..I wassss going to skip but something tells me I shouldn't skip today's class heh " he sheepishly rubs his head.

just then, the door slammed opened revealing a tall blonde male. Everyone looked at the unfamiliar male as he walked towards the board and wrote down his name.

he then turned around with the most resting bitch face and introduced himself, " my name's tsukishima kei but just call me sir to make things more easier. I'll be assisting takeda-sensei as he is away for whatever reasons. "

he slammed the books on the table and glared at everyone in the room before continuing, " also, I don't care what you do as long you're in my classroom, you listen when needed, speak when allowed and NO distractions. "

" did I made myself clear? "

the class nodded as the room became cold instantly. everyone could tell by the way people started looking in different directions hoping to not meet the scary eyes from the front, some were fidgeting with their hands or notes while others just try to look busy.

even shoyou stopped smiling and proceed to sink his seat, whining about his lost privileges of playing his mini games on his laptop.

' we're so dead ' the class thought in unison.

while everyone was doing different things, the blonde looked up and ended his speech with a short sentences that made everyone shiver.

" well, I hope we get along....really well " he smirked.

as if time stopped, you peaked for a second from your laptop. coincidence or not, your eyes met 2 golden orbs just staring or rather glazing at you as if you are his prey in the wild.

almost immediately, you broke contact and focus back on your notes. blush made its way to your cheeks as you try not to think about the moment you had awhile ago.

you can't deny the blonde wasn't extremely handsome. His tall structure and slender fingers delicately sway as he starts to teach the class about the first topic. everything about him just screams neat and polish, like a very high class person that eats caviar for breakfast.

-

3 hours soon passed and you were starving. you looked back at your freshly done notes in front of you as you smiled with glee.

however, you failed to notice tsukshima kei walking to you from the side and eventually towering over you. let's just say, he did not look too please.

he looked at the notes, knowing you didn't pay attention to his class at all he snatched it from your desk and loudly announced, " well done to everyone who paid attention except for miss- " he glanced at my name from your notes " -y/n here. since she is too busy doing other things, before tomorrow's class I expect everyone to write a 1000 word essay on why PAYING attention in class is important. "

the sounds of groans and some glared at you causing you to die inside, as you panicked seeing everyone in trouble because of you.

he smirked and leaned near your face as you move backwards until you hit your seat.

he whispered, " I'll keep these for now..see me after your last class here to get them back.." he pulls away as he turns around to leave but you caught his sleeve, begging.

" p-please don't punish the class! I'll take full responsibility for it!..just don't make them write the essay..please sir " you begged, already embarrassed by the negative attention you were receiving.

" fine since you asked so nicely, everyone don't need to d the essay. YOU shall write a 2000 essay instead " he grinned, finally walking to his desk in front. your jaw dropped at the arrogant blonde as you watch him say bye to the rest of your classmates and when he see you again, he smirked.

' that evil bitch ' you gasped, angerily forced your laptop and things into your bag as you stomped out of the classroom.

all the good thoughts about him vanished from your brain as all you thought was plotting his murder. too blinded by rage you even forgot about shoyou who was trying to catch up from behind.

one thing you knew you could never change is your anger issues. once you're mad mad, rage is all you could think of throughout the day. this eventually caused people to avoid you as you would glare or ignore them.

the first class was suppose to be a good start of the day, why did you have to end up like this?

you knew the only thing that can reduce your anger was food. that's why you walked quickly to the caferteria hoping to enjoy a good meal to calm yourself.

intro | next | main pg

NOTES

shoyou was still trying to catch up FML bro was thinking how you can walk so fast

© all works are done by @ bao4aohao do not copy/rewrite/steal thank you.

[koukamisstuff]

Haikyuu Scenarios 💌

Scenario: Love Language Series - Acts of Service *SMAU Version*

Characters: Asahi, Matsukawa, Tsuki, Kita, Osamu

Genre: fluff, romance

Koukami Scenarios: Scenarios 🎟

Current inspiration for this 1st part has been Seventeen's Imperfect Love and this Chinese drama I've been obsessed with 😭

♡Asahi Azumane ♡Matsukawa Issei

♡Tsukshima Kei ♡Kita Shinsuke ♡Osamu Miya

Masterlist - Next Part *pending*

Author's Note : Heyyy everyone!! I know I've been gone for so long, I apologize life just really won these last few months. I've felt so bad not being able to update but the inspiration was blocked 😔 There was a lot going on and even after one thing, something else came up, I had to take time for everything to work itself out. But I'm glad to say that things are slowly getting better and my inspiration to write is coming back.

I'll be continuing my other series and promise to have something up shortly. For now please enjoy this mini SMAU series I'm releasing about the types of Love Languages in our haikyuu boys. If you have any request you'd like to see done in this scenario please comment, or dm me would love to try and get this done for you. 😊 This is dedicated to everyone who I've kept waiting, thank you all for your continued patience and support ❤️

*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Haikyuu Master Taglist:*OPEN* @onelostgirl @passionateuchiha @kenkenmaaa @notsoholychibichan @ray-lol

*To be added to the general taglist for Haikyuu Scenarios just send an ask,PM or comment

*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the Haikyuu characters or the artwork used. I fully credit those who deserve the amazing works provided throughout my stories. I also don't own the images used and the credit belongs to those who have taken them.

[rinstagrams]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ karasuno

tsukshima kei ↘ boyfriend texts!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ inarizaki

suna rintaro ↘ messy (0.27k, fwb!suna, suggestive)

kita shinsuke ↘ roses (0.64k, fluff) ↘ sweet nothing (0.35k, husband!kita, domestic fluff)

[midnightlee25]

Random Yandere Headcanons:  Kei Tsukishima, Wakatoshi Ushijima and Tetsurō Kuroo with a darling whose parents are less than kind

Warning: Nothing is described but it is implied their darling’s parents are abusive both physically and emotionally.

Kei Tsukishima:

If there was ever a reason to take his darling this would be it.

As soon as he sees it (at the moment or the after effect.) He's already planning their downfall as well as when he's getting his darling out of there.

Now yes, he will have them arrested even if it's not for what they did to his darling.  

But first he will make them suffer for what they have done. This is when his more sadistic side comes out.

He will make sure they won't ever hurt his darling ever again.

Wakatoshi Ushijima:

He doesn't kill often but this may be one of those times that he does.  

One of his main points is to always keep his darling safe and knowing (because he will find out about it.) That they aren't even safe in their own home?

He will take his darling to a safe place just for the two of them while he takes care of the trash that you once called your parents.

Usually, ushijima isn't that messy but this isn't one of those times.

As soon as he saw his darling, he swore that he would keep them safe and that's exactly what he's planning on doing.

Tetsurō Kuroo:

He's already thought of many ways to make them suffer forever even thinking about hurting his darling.

He will take his darling away from that place his darling once called home.

He will make sure any injuries are taken care of as well as mentally.

He will build his darling back up while tearing their so-called parents apart.

This is something he will definitely find out about and will take care of it at that moment.

[haik-choo]

a/n: sure! i hope you guys enjoy! tsukishima is literally one of my favorite characters of all time so this was really fun!

[MISCHARACTERIZATIONS OF TSUKISHIMA KEI]

tsukishima kei. 

toxic: tsukishima obviously has some serious trust issues, his brother lied to him for years and tsukshima only found out by accidently stumbling across it, and then proceeded to see his brother have a breakdown. since then he’s been emotionally closed-off to optimism because he knows how badly it can crash and burn. but this doesn’t make him toxic -- he’s high caution when it comes to putting his passion into things and he finds it difficult to talk about his feelings because he’s never done it before. he doesn’t hurt people’s feelings on purpose (unless he’s teasing) -- he genuinely doesn’t understand certain emotional cues or emotions because he finds it hard to let himself experience anything other than anticipation for the worst. what he needs is someone who’s patient and can encourage him to talk, not make him feel guilty for going through trauma!

naturally smart: i get where this is coming from -- he’s in a high-placing class and is a pretty logical, calculating, and clever person, but when it comes to academics his smarts are part due to a lot of hard work. to tsukishima, he sees the majority of his value in academics. he’s not particularly good at volleyball, not particularly charismatic, not really model-mateiral (by his standards), so he sees himself in academics. so he works hard to get good grades, and honestly he likes to study. so, yes, he’s pretty smart naturally when it comes to (certain) things about people, and academically he has a good foundation, but you know he works his ass off on aesthetic notes to stay high-ranking. tsukishima is never more stressed than when he genuinely doesn’t understand something (which is part of the reason he’s not a people-person), it leaves him thinking he might not be as smart as he thought he was and he has a mini-spiral before giving in and asking yams for help. 

doesn’t care: for most people, admittedly, he doesn’t care about how they think of him. he would prefer them not think of him as some dude who is only brains and no other skills, but if they do, it’ll only mildly irritate him. but when it comes to his close friends, he cares a lot about how they see and feel about him. he understands he’s nonchalant, even to those he loves, but he still wants them to know (without him telling them, of course) that he cares a lot about them. he cares if his best friends thinks he’s insensitive, he cares if his lover is getting annoyed with his indifference, he cares if he hurts his friends feelings, he’s just emotionally constipated. it’s hard for him to voice these feelings of his, so it just comes off as him seemingly not caring, but he cares a lot more than what he lets on. also, if he’s in a place where he knows no one, he likes to keep up the unbothered smart preppy guy façade because he thinks it makes him look cool, because he’s a little bit of a dork and the thought of being the good-looking guy in the room does stroke his ego a little. 

unreactive: meaning people think he doesn’t have reactions to anything. this couldn’t be farther from the truth -- have you seen how he reacts to other people’s stupidity? he can’t hide that emotion on his face even if he tried. when people think he’s just a normal guy he gets an attitude, when he’s in a good mood he laughs (though it’s usually at someone else’s expense), and when he’s annoyed or angry is shows in everything he does. someone once said that they were glad the dinosaurs when extinct because they were probably ugly and this boy sent them to their grave. he did not take their shit that day. not to mention this guy has a killer humor, he likes it when people laugh at what he says (yamaguchi always laughs at his jokes and it gives him a confidence boost), and he enjoys watching comedy specials. this guy may have had something traumatizing happen to him but that doesn’t mean that’s his only character trait, yall. tsukishima has likes and dislikes, past times, and -- contrary to popular belief -- experiences a range of emotions, including happiness! 

confident: academically, maybe. yeah, tsukishima can do calculus. yeah, he can write a A+ paper in an hour. he’s confident in these skills because he’s honed them through hard-work and constant studying. but confidence when it comes to people is something completely different -- he knows he’s not ugly, so he knows that a lot of people find him attractive, but that’s not what gives him confidence. there’s a reason why people like kageyama and hinata get on his nerves, they are so unapologetically open about what they like and what they’re passionate about, not caring if they fail. they’re confident in their hobbies, in their hard work. tsukishima, on the other hand? it’s hard to be confident in that sphere. it’s hard for him to say he almost didn’t finish the homework because he was on a Discovery Channel binge. it’s hard for him to show the sparkle in his eye when he’s in history class. he’ll truly be confident when he can express himself freely, without the concern of judgement from others. his confidence doesn’t come from being hot or insanely talented, it comes from being purely himself, and he’s not there yet. until he is, he fakes it with cockiness in his academic ability (but volleyball is helping him!). 

overall: tsukshima has trauma that mainly affects his processing of emotions; he’s a work in progress. it takes a lot to get him to open up, friend or lover, but it’s gotten easier because his love for volleyball has helped him cope with his emotions and helped him filter his thoughts. he isn’t 100% confident in himself, yet, but he’s getting there. and if he’s being honest, he’s the happiest he’s ever been....and he’s optimistic about the future, for once. 

[leafsgarbage]

How you meet your boyfriend’s team

 -Tsukishima, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kita

Main Masterlist

Tsukishima Kei-

To be honest, he wanted to hold off from you meeting them for a loooooong time. 

He knew he would get teased by everyone, and he really just didn’t want to go through that, so he kept putting it off.

You didn’t mind because you knew you’d meet them one day, and it’s not like he was ashamed of you. He cared about you so dearly he’d come over after practice (which was pretty late) just to give you some snacks he bought

He’s soft for you

He’ll still bully the shit out of you just like everyone else, so don’t think you’re safe.

That’s ok cause you just threaten to expose him to his team for the softy he is

Ah, blackmail.

This had been a particularly long day at school since everyone was trying desperately to ask the teacher for last minute questions for their exams. So, while you wanted to check your work with your teacher, Kageyama and Hinata make a beeline towards you. “Y/n-san! Please help us with our english exams.”

Hinata bowed, but Kageyama was a bit more hesitant until Shoyo nudged him in his side. “Please help us!” He asks of you and you can’t help but chuckle and agree.

“Alright I’ll help,” the weirdos smile in appreciation, “but you’re buying me meat buns at Ukai’s after every session.” The boys agree, not realizing that they’d have to take turns buying you one. “We can start today?”

“Err-” Hinata scratches the back of his head. “We have volleyball practice.” You wonder if these boys really ever had anything else on their minds. “Could you tutor us in-between our breaks? Please!”

Had you not been sitting at your desk you’re sure Hinata would have held your legs till you said yes. “Ok, but now you also have to give me a chocolate bar.” The boys nod eagerly and leave your classroom accomplished.

Tsukishima walks in just as Hinata skips out, Kageyama following closely behind him normally. Tsukki walks up to your desk and hands you your favorite chocolate. “What did they want?” He scoffs. 

You don’t say thank you for the gift he’s given you because then you’d be acknowledging that he’s taking care of you. God forbid you know he’s taking care of you. Gasp. “They wanted help on their english exams.” You say with a mouthful of chocolate.

“Why didn’t they just ask Yachi or me?”

You laugh at your boyfriend. For someone who’s really smart, he’s kind of dumb. “Yachi is busy with managing things and you aren’t exactly known for your nice teaching skills.”

He grunts and mumbles a ‘whatever’ under his breath. “I’ll see you after practice ok?” Tsukki squeezes your hand and leaves before you get the chance to tell him you’re coming to his practice.

The only one who knew about your relationship was Yamaguchi (obviously), and that was mainly because he needed someone to cover for him when he was late, or went off to get a snack but came back in 20 minutes. 

After you talked with your teacher you headed to the gym. You took off your shoes and stepped in, textbooks in-hand. Hinata spots you immediately. “Y/n-san! Thank you so much for helping us!”

“You’re welcome Shoyo.” Daichi comes up to HInata and asks what you’re doing here (in the nicest way possible). You’ve gained quite a crowd as not all of the boys knew who you were.

Tsukki comes up to the commotion, and you’re shorter than the other boys so he doesn’t see it’s you until he squeezes past. “Y/n? What are you doing here? I told you I’d see you after.”

Oh, no. Tsukki thinks

“Tsukishima!” Suga yells. “You didn’t tell us you had a s/o.” He comes up and holds your hands in his. “What’s he like?” He asks.

You’re sure Tsukki is about to have a brain aneurysm by the way all the second years or clinging to him, asking all sorts of questions. 

“Quit pretending like none of you knew.” Daichi scolds the group and they all hold the back of their necks. Tsukki makes a face and Daichi just laughs. “You’re not very good at hiding things.” 

If there was one other person who could make Tsukki speechless like this other than you, it was definitely the captain of the crows. “Cat got your tongue Tsukki-poo?” You’ve never called him that in your life, but you just had to be a little shit.

Needless to say, Tsukki doens’t want you around the boys for his own sanity.

Kuroo Tetsuro-

Now this bitch-

He would plan it all out. 

Would basically show you off to his team and be like:

“Yea this is my s/o and they’re the best.

Yaku would make fun of him obviously

the two would argue over you

kenma actually likes you ????

and lev thinks you’re hot

He likes book dates, where you guys go to really cool interactive museums

He helps you with your homework when you need it. 

The Nekoma boys VBC were gathered at the front of the school gates, waiting for their captain to arrive and stop them from fussing. Lev was the most excited of the bunch while Kenma could not care less and played on his psp that he carried with him.

Yaku was talking to Kai, Fukunaga was looking over Kenma’s game and Yamamoto was just talking to the other second years, only Fukunaga was really paying attention. (Kenma listened to everything he said, but he doesn’t know that).

Finally Kuroo shows up, and to Nekoma’s surprise, he has someone next to him... holding hands. Yamamoto bumps Kenma’s shoulder to turn to Kuroo. Kenma sees you two, but goes back to his game becuase he’s already met you *duh. 

“Please refrain from hitting on y/n, ok, I know they’re beautiful and everything, but it’s too late for you.” Yaku rolls his eyes and crosses his arms together while Kai gives you his signature smile and a wave. “Y/n this is the team, kids, this y/n, my s/o.”

Everyone is very nice and waves to you, Lev being the most entranced with you because you’re gorgeous. Kuroo goes to scold Lev and leaves you with Kai and Yaku. “Y/n, how did you meet Kuroo? Was he trying to break into the bookstore again?” Yaku asks.

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, we have biology and chemistry together.”

“Y/n, I think you should get out while you can, I don’t know why you would want to be with him, he talks in his sleep, and he doesn’t really know his elements you know? He-” Yaku gets cut off.

“Why are all of you trying to get her to leave me!” Kuroo goes back to arguing with his teammates and you stick with Kenma and Fukunaga. Kenma has already taken out his switch and hands you a controller. Fukunaga watches you guys while chaos ensues around you.

Bokuto Kotaro-

This guy

He LOOOOOOOVES You

He asks you to marry him many times throughout the day every day

Akashi is your mediator in case Bokuto gets too much

Both of you know how Bokuto gets, so you both know how to cheer him up

He loves when you come to his games because Bokuto never goes emo when you’re at his games

But when you’re NOT there...

Akashi prays either you or shoyo show up because nothing’s getting him out of this one.

takes you on cute dates, Akashi comes sometimes.

the team stumbles upon a cute moment between you two

Bokuto was desperately trying to perfect his jump serve and where he wanted to hit it. Water bottles were scattered all of the gym floor, none of them have fallen over and it’s been two hours.

The boys didn’t have practice today so Bo was using this opportunity to practice as much as he could. You were sitting on the bleachers eating some snacks you bought from the vending machine. Bo’s water and snacks reman untouched.

He tries to hit another serve in the zone of his choice. Watching him play is something you love to do. He just seems so elegant playing whereas he’s pretty clumsy normally. Bo throws the ball up, walks up and jumps to hit the ball. 

There’s a strained look on his face when the ball lands and you know it’s not where he wanted it to be. You get up and walk over to him on the floor sitting.

“What’s wrong Bo?” You ask even though you already know.

He pouts and points to where the balls are scattered all over the floor. “I can’t get this serve down. It’s so difficult.”

You rub his shoulders and kiss his cheek. “Maybe you should take a break Bo.”

The ace shakes his head. “No, if I take a break I’ll never get it.”

“If you keep going, you could hurt yourself and won’t be ready for games. You’re fans will be disappointed.” His face falls and nods at you. He never wants to disappoint the people he loves and look up to him. “Come eat with me and then I’ll help you with your serves ok?” Both of you go to eat on the bleachers.

Meanwhile, all the VBC of Fukurodani just watched this interaction between you and their ace go down. All the guys find you so cute and Akashi smiles while the rest talk amongst themselves. They’re pushing on the door so much it opens and they fall into the gym with a loud thud.

Bo and you turn to the noise only to see the volleyball boys in a pile on the floor (except Akashi of course). 

Kita Shinsuke-

please

he’s such a gentleman it hurts

Would take you to meet his grandma

you help him clean up when practice is over

he takes you to the Miya’s house so you can eat his junior’s cooking

you and aran get along really well

the twins are always trying to poke fun at you

Suna asks you to take a picture of Kita when he’s vulnerable

you refuse

mainly because you haven’t ever seen it

the boys love you tbh

You and Shin were at his house making some decorations for the twins’ birthday tomorrow. He was going to take you with him so you could meet the team for the first time. It was really nerve-racking for you because you saw how much he cared for them and you prayed they liked you

You were making some pastries because you were an excellent baker, and as much as Shin loves Osamu’s cooking, he’s a shit baker. Just as you pull out the pastries, there’s a knock on the door, and both of you are confused because Shin’s parents are out of town.

He opens it to be greeted with the VBC. “Kita!!” The twins yell as they make their way inside.

“I didn’t say you could come in.” Shin mumbles and he moves so the rest of the VBC can come in. Like he was ever going to shove them out.

You walk out and everyone stops what they’re doing. “Kita-san,” Atsumu calls to Shin. “There’s a stranger in your house.”

Shin comes over to you and looks at the boys. “This is my s/o y/n. We were making decorations for your birthday tomorrow.” The twins put their hands to their heart and clench. 

Aran has you in one of his classes so he just waves to you, and you wave back. Suna is staring at you intently wondering if there’s anything you can expose Kita about. He decides to say hi and ask later, as does Hitoshi. You wonder why he has a weird look on his face but think nothing of it. “I have some pastries I was saving for tomorrow, but we can have them now-”

“Are they macaroons?” Osamu asks you, drool practically hanging from his mouth.

“Yes. and-”

The twins dash to the kitchen, Aran, Suna, and Hitoshi follow behind. Atsumu looks back at you and his captain, tears in his eyes. “Please keep them Kita-san, these pastries are- s-s-so good.” There’s tears in his eyes, but all the boys also compliment your baking and you’re so happy they seem taken with you.

Kita is also beyond thrilled that they seem to love you almost as much as he does. 

___________________________________

Requests are open! 

Taglist: @aurorahoneybuns @elianetsantana

If you wanna be a part of my tag list, message me or comment on this post!

___________________________________

[kagstea]

tsukishima k. - little late

tsukishima x f!reader

description: all of Y/N’s efforts fell flat, and tonight was no exception.

warnings: angst

The food had been sitting on the table for over three hours already. It had grown cold and soggy, much to Y/N’s dismay. She stared at it blankly, wondering if she should have just eaten it a long time ago. 

She stood up, reaching for the two plates and making her way to the trash. All her hard work had been for nothing, and she really tried this time. It was pathetic.

She was pathetic.

Just as she set the dishes in the sink, the door opened, and in came a tardy Tsukishima. He cursed as he kicked off his shoes, rubbing his sore neck as he headed further into the apartment. He stopped seeing when he saw Y/N cleaning, a bad feeling settling in his stomach. 

“I’m home,” Tsukishima started. “I’m exhausted, can you finish tomorrow and we can go to bed-”

A loud shattering cut him off, and he jumped back. The broken dish that Y/N threw on the floor broke into pieces everywhere. His eyes trailed from the mess to hers, surprised by the angry tears.

He took a moment, before asking, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N scoffed. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? You’re seriously asking me because you don’t know?” 

Tsukishima was baffled. She had never acted like this before, so what was the issue? The new behavior was annoying to him. “Look, I’m not in the mood to argue, alright? I had a rough day and I would like to come home to some peace and quiet.”

She shook her head. “Peace and quiet, huh? I’m tired of that, that’s all I get around here! You think I want to start a fight right now?”

He turned his back on her, loosening his tie. “Whatever. Just clean up the mess and let’s go to sleep.”

Y/N let her tears run down her cheeks, staring at the back of the man she loved. It was still him, but at the same time it wasn’t. He didn’t look at her the same way, nor did he touch her like he did before. It had been too long since they were last happy. At this point, she knew they couldn’t be fixed, even if she tried harder.

So she lowered her head, using her arm to wipe her eyes. “Kei?”

Tsukishima threw his head back at his name, frustrated. “What is it now?”

A small sniffle caught his attention. He turned to face her again, seeing her in the middle of the kitchen crying. Years ago, he would have ran across the shattered pieces to hold her in his arms. But this was not a few years ago. He did not feel the need to do that at all, so he stayed in his place.

“Why are you crying? Nothing happened, just relax-”

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

Y/N’s whisper was enough to silence him. Tsukishima took in her words, staring at her. When did she start looking so tired? 

But he shook those thoughts out of his head, chuckling. “Yeah, right. All because I came home a little late? Stop being dramatic.”

Y/N smiled bitterly, lifting her face to get a good look at him. “Just a little? I think it might be more than that.”

He was exhausted, ready to knock out for the night. “Okay, I’m sorry. Can we just drop it now?”

She nodded. “Yes. It’s over.” 

The tone in her voice set off alarms in his head. But Tsukishima blocked them out, deciding that he could worry about it all in the morning. So finally, he let out a sigh of relief. He gestured to the broken dish, “Be careful picking that up. I’m going to sleep first, goodnight.” 

Y/N was left alone once she heard their bedroom door close. At that moment, she weeped silently while hugging herself. What was supposed to be their anniversary night had turned in to a quiet mess. All her efforts had gone to waste, just like they always did. Y/N had a hard time believing they would ever be worth it in the end.

~

He woke up with the sun the next morning, feeling well rested. As he sat up, he noticed the other half of the bed empty. Y/N always woke up first, usually in the kitchen making breakfast. 

Tsukishima was glad the morning started quietly. 

He stretched his arms before getting out of bed, making his way out of the room. It had only taken him a few seconds to realize there was no aroma coming from the kitchen like every other day. “Y/N?”

Walking throughout the apartment, Tsukishima began to feel quite small and alone. But he pushed all bad thoughts to the side, figuring she ran to the market earlier. That made sense. 

However, Tsukishima’s hope faded away instantly when he got to the kitchen. His heart had clenched as he remembered last night’s events prior to him going to sleep. All those words and tears were not a senseless thing anymore, as Tsukishima stared at the floor where the shattered dish laid untouched.

part two

[thehappyrainyday]

I smell homo

[caeneri]

Haikyuu also known as volleyball. Two teams separated by a net bounce a ball back and forth between each other. The ball is not allowed to touch the floor. It cannot be carried. Once it is in the air, a team has no more than three touches to connect and take the ball from receive to attack.

If I would have only one takeaway from this series, the phrase "to connect" comes to mind. Hinata's growth would not be impossible without the connections he made through the years. We are who we are because of the "connections" we've made in our lives.

𝙃𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙃𝙖𝙞𝙠𝙮𝙪𝙪 𝘿𝙖𝙮!

[haikyuuhaven]

Haikyuu!! Jobs

Tendo becoming a chocolatier is one of the least surprising job choice and I can’t even explain why.

Iwa’s education paid off, he’s the athletic trainer of Team Japan!!

Lev and Alisa are models, which totally isn’t surprising. Yaku is the Libero for a Russian team, and he’s looking great in that suit 💖

Matsukawa working for a funeral home feels oddly fitting 🤔. Him and Watari are both cheering for Team Argentina! Tsukishima and Kyotani live together? That probably makes for interesting days, but they both continued playing volleyball~ (Special appearance: “buy me a bear” bros)

Tons and tons more characters and what they’re up to after eight years.

Plus more fans for Team Argentina

[bao4aohao]

chap 2 - go for the throat

-> slight! texting chapter

-> warnings !! - violence, swearing

you're sitting on a table with some people from your class. you don't really talk to them but you'll make small conversations if you have to, so you could say they are somewhat you're friends.

you tapped your foot impatiently while waiting for your orange haired friend.

suddenly, a notification distracted you.

you groaned as you sat with your friends who were busy engaging with their own conversations. as you play with your food, time began to pass slowly.

you start to drown in the loud atmosphere, looking left and right but no one were paying attention to you. you tried to look busy by scrolling your phone and can't help but felt a bit..sad.

you were still pissed off at your new teacher, god that stupid man!? hot but god damn annoying man?! who does he think he is? you sighed at your now mashed plate of rice which gave you another reason why you should skip today's classes.

you were about to get up but a voice from behind caught your attention the most.

" omg right! today we had a sub teacher and he's sooooo hot~ but we almost got in trouble because of a bitch who didn't paid attention UGH!

you turned behind to see a bunch of girls giggling with each other, and the one who made that comment turned to side eye you.

ignoring their gazes you pretended not to hear them. you were tired from your first class, losing anymore energy was the last thing you wanted.

the girls continued to make nasty comments about you and it was started to get to you.

you stood up, holding your tray bumping the girl's should on purpose.

" oops, sorry about that " you smiled, eyes closed.

the girls did not like it one bit.

" watch it, bitch. " she snarled back.

you laughed and turned around to out your tray back but something hit you on the back of your head.

you felt a welt sensation on your hair. you touch your hair and it was a white liquid.

" fuck it- "

you stomped your way back to their table and smack that bitch's face with the tray. hair was something you cherish and no one touches it. not even your family except for you.

" THAT WAS MY HAIR YOU BITCH-UGH LET GO OF ME " you yelled as the girl pulled your hair when you pounced on her. you then grab a chunk of her hair and pulled tightly, making her scream too.

a crowd began to form quickly around us while a few people tried to separate us.

you pinned her down and got on top on her. you didn't know why but you started to clog her but choking her.

" that's right choke on my fingers BITCH " you cackled. you felt your inner demons coming up until a voice called your name.

" Y/N! Y/N! I'M HERR-OH GOD " you heard shoyou's voice for a second. this led you to hesitate for a moment and the next thing you know, you had losing your grip and something hit your eye really hard. then, you fell back and it turned dark.

you had blacked out.

-

' ughh ' you groaned, opening your eyes slowly to find yourself in an unfamiliar room. you peeked to your right and you saw the last person you wanted to see. Tsukshima fucking kei.

you felt a swell in your left eyelids and you felt a slight bump. you then recalled what had happened an the fight you had gotten into before you blacked out.

' great. first a black eye and now I have to see this shitty teacher ' you rolled your eyes as you tried to sit up. tsukishima was standing and looking out of the window before hearing the shuffling noises behind him.

he turned around and saw you groaning due to the pain while trying to get up from the bed. he immediately went to grab your arms and tried to help you up, but that made you felt even weirder.

" I-I can get up myself! I don't need your help since you gave me enough about the essay " you looked at him in the eyes, clearly pissed at his presence.

he stared at you for a moment and chuckled for a few seconds before smirking at you. ' what the fuck..why's he smirking at me like that..' you thought, confused.

he replied, " don't worry y/n, you don't need to write the essay since you're..injured.. " he eyes you up and down before tossing the stack of notes on your lap.

" here, I don't need them anymore. neat notes by the way, although under the uniform circular motion on page 15, you missed out that the velocity vector is always tangent to the path of the object. " he proudly said.

then, he swiftly left the room leaving you in the empty and quiet sick bay with the sound of the fan vibrating on the top corner of the room.

the door suddenly opened, his head popped out.

" but you will repay back in a different way, I'll let you know "

then he closed the door back. It irked you as he seemed to think punishing you was funny to him. you felt like punching his face the next time you see him again.

you didn't waste time and slowly stand up to compose yourself. you tried looking for your phone and bag but they were no where to be found.

you panicked and speed walked out of the room only to see shoyou carrying your bag with one arm and on the other holding some food. you didn't know why but you ran up to him and gave him the fattest hug you have ever given to anyone.

" thanks for bringing me here " you said, grateful for his help. you let go to see him red as always.

" i-it was nothing, I swear! all it matters you're okay now..HERE! this your favourite matcha latte right?? yachi told me you liked matcha soooo I gottem hehe " he beamed as he passed you your drink.

you thanked him and chugged it like there's no tomorrow. you didn't know how thirsty you have gotten and you didn't bother about the brain freeze that hit you almost instantly.

you just felt a sense of comfort. beating up that bitch was definitely something you did NOT regret. it was like a small burden off your shoulder.

just then, when you two were about to leave, shoyou spoke up.

" uhh y/n..the person that carried you here actually wasn't me...well I did told the nurse about your injury but.. " he awkwardly dragged the words.

" who was it then? I need to thank them hais.. " you sighed, knowing you made a stranger carried you was kind of embarassing.

" it was our new teacher, Mr tsukishima. " he said.

you looked at him and his face shows he was telling the truth.

" deadass? " you asked, he nodded back.

' this is so weird, why would he do that? doesn't he hate me or something? ' you questioned yourself and wanted to kill youself right there.

Not only did he punished you in front of the all class, he ALSO carried you to the sick bay and stayed until you woke up. guilt started to build up in you.

sure he scolded and humiliated you in front of t he whole class but THIS? you felt as if now you owe him a favor and you know it's going to be something bad seeing his personality.

all you could do is pray for the best and continue to focus on your studies as exams were coming up.

prev | next | main pg

NOTES

I tried making y/n a real one here, the intrusive thoughts ykwim.

something uploaded the fight on twitter, a certain someone was abit too excited about it

© all works are done by @ bao4aohao do not copy/rewrite/steal thank you.

[akaashikoutarou]

[kageyamatobiyogurt]

hq boyfriends and being touchy:

(fem reader)

- i also take requests!

-doesn’t really know how to express themselves through touch but really loves it when you touch them. absolutely adores when you run a hand through their hair or come up behind them to give them a hug. will lean into your touch without a second thought. you might come in for a hug and they’ll easily open their arms and invite you in, probably hugging you tighter too. their efforts to touch you back on their own are small but a lot of care is put behind them. sometimes it’s in moving a hair to place it behind your ear or a gentle hand over yours if you’re both studying and sitting next to each other: kageyama, kenma, yamaguchi,  

-these boys just have a habit of being rather touchy but not in a suffocating way. it’s just a physical reminder, more of a show not tell that they’re oh so in love with you. it’s in the constant hand holding and the feeling that they’ll lead you anywhere. it’s in the kiss on your cheek whenever they get excited to see you (even if they saw you yesterday). it’s in the way their arm is always around you, either their hand resting on your own arm, or their hand resting on your waist: nishinoya, bokuto, hinata, tendou, osamu

- the rather reserved kind of touchy. it’s there, but it isn’t bold so you’d miss it sometimes if you weren’t paying attention. it’s the hand that rests on your thigh almost telling you to stay there with them. it’s the casual arm slung around you when it’s just you two watching a movie, both keeping you close and protecting you. it’s the tug on your sleeve when they want to bring you somewhere or show you something: ushijima, tsukishima, sakusa 

-the comfortable touchy, a nice middle ground of not always touching you, but not being afraid to either. it’s in the way they embrace you when they randomly feel like it. or maybe even in the way they’ll casually take your hand and bring it to their lips, placing a small kiss. it’s almost their way of physically saying, “oh i love you” when they’re just looking at you and the overwhelming realization hits them. it happens sporadically and they just get that warm feeling in the pit of their stomach and the notion that their heart is swelling in their chest at the thought of you. maybe you were just casually reading, or just preparing a simple meal and they were reminded yet again that they loved you: akaashi, atsumu,daichi, oikawa, kuroo, 

[tsukkisbean]

never cold | third year boyfriend!tsukishima x gn!reader

genre: fluff and angst

warnings: jealousy, poor communication

word count: 4.0k

summary:  you’ve always loved valentine’s day and believed it was a holiday worth  celebrating and this year you have tsukishima to spend it with.  however, much to your disappointment he tells you that he thinks the  holiday is a waste of time and doesn’t understand why people even  bother. so what happens when your secret admirer takes their chance to  tell you how they feel?

a/n: i’m sorry this turned out kind of lame but nonetheless i hope you like it!!! ty for requesting!! also this is a repost bc tumblr is picking a fight :)

original request here

Every year, each class is assigned to run a holiday event for the school. So, when the school president notifies you that your class will be in charge of the Valentine’s Day event this year, you’re over the moon.

You’re determined to pull off an amazing event not only because your pride as class representative is on the line, but simply because you love the concept of Valentine’s Day.

During your break between classes you rack your brain, trying to think of an idea that will blow the entire school away.

“What about a kissing booth?”

You turn to look at your friend, nose scrunching in distaste, “Really? A kissing booth? I think that’s overdone and quite frankly, disgusting, Yachi.”

Embarrassment is written all over her face and you can’t help but feel bad at your small outburst, “Sorry Yachi, that was rude of me. I do appreciate you trying to help me though.”

Her messy blonde hair sways side to side as she shakes her head, “No, you’re right. I’d feel sorry for whoever has to kiss hundreds of random strangers.” A giggle escapes your lips when you see the way she gags at the thought.

“Hey, Y/N are you planning to do something with Tsukishima for Valentine’s?”

The question catches you off guard. You’ve been dating for just about a year now and you know he wasn’t exactly into these sorts of things but surely, he at least had something planned, right? Just as you’re about to respond, the school bell goes off, signalling the start of your third period.

For the rest of the day, your mind is preoccupied with brainstorming. Love telegrams? Serenades? Chocolates? No, although traditional, it was all too boring to you.

It’s only the when the ring of your cellphone brings you back to reality. Your face lights up at the caller ID, your finger quickly swiping across the screen.

“Kei! Where have you been?”

When you hear your boyfriend’s voice for the first time today, your worries seem to fade away. “Yamaguchi, Hinata and Kageyama kept pestering me to practice with them during all our breaks today.” You can just imagine the scowl he has plastered on his face.

“Well it can’t be helped. After all, interhighs will be here before you know it. You’ve got to set a good example for all your juniors.” You hear him sigh on the other end, “Yeah I guess but, that means we won’t be able to see each other as much.”

The corner of your lips lifts upward into a wide smile. Tsukishima has never been the type to be so forward when expressing his affection towards you, so you always cherish these types of moments.

You’re suddenly reminded of what Yachi asked you earlier in the day and you ponder whether or not you should bring it up with him.

“Hey, Kei?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have anything planned for Valentine’s Day?” You can barely make it out, but you definitely hear him scoff.

“Probably not. I don’t really understand why people go crazy over it. It’s so corny and unnecessarily expensive, it’s just a waste of a day.”

You nod your head, even though he can’t see you, “I see. Well I have homework to do, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Kei.”

Before he can respond, you end the call, throwing your phone on the bed.

Why were you so upset? You know that your boyfriend was like this; you understand that he isn’t fond of big theatrics when it came to love. You like him and he likes you, that’s all that should matter. Yet, for some reason, you can’t get rid of the tight feeling building in your chest.

When you wake up the next day, your heart still feels heavy.  Last night’s conversation still lingers in your mind, maybe because you know there’s some truth to what he said. Or maybe, it’s because you secretly hoped he’d take advantage of the holiday to show you how much he cared for you.

Pushing your thoughts away, you busy yourself with getting ready for another day of school.

When you arrive, you easily spot your boyfriend, his tall frame towering over most of the other students. One of his friends catches your eye, before giving your boyfriend a gentle a nudge, pointing towards you. Tsukishima turns to look at you momentarily before quickly walking off in the direction of his classroom.

Automatically, your lips turn into a frown. He must be upset because you abruptly hung up on him last night. You let out a sigh; maybe you’d buy him a slice of his favourite strawberry shortcake and surprise him after his practice.

During class your mind is anywhere but the lesson, your focus drifting between the Valentine’s event and Tsukishima avoiding you.

“Y/N”

“Y/N!”

Your seatmate gives you a sharp nudge to the side, bringing your attention to the front of the room.

“I believe you have an announcement for the class?”

You scramble out of your seat, smoothing out the wrinkles in your uniform as you make your way to the front of the classroom, “This year our class has been chosen to run the Valentine’s day event.” A mixture of groans and excited whispers fill the classroom, “If you would like to participate in the planning process please let me know. Those who do not partake in the planning are required to participate in the execution of the event.”

During lunch, much to your relief, a number of students approach you to offer their help. As a group, you exchange ideas back and forth and by the end of lunch break you’ve collected a wide variety of ideas. All that was left was to actually decide on one.

Happiness and excitement settles in your chest, and you can barely sit still for the rest of the day.  When the final bell goes off, those helping with the event hurriedly crowd around your desk to continue the conversation from earlier.

“Okay well we definitely have to have flowers and chocolate! How can you have Valentine’s Day without those?”

“Singing attracts way too much attention. I would literally die of embarrassment if I got serenaded in front of the whole class.”

“Telegrams are so overdone, but I also think they’re romantic, they definitely fit the vibe.”

“What if we set up an event based on the red string of fate?” Once you hear the idea your heart falls in love.

“Watanabe, that’s a great idea! Students can send in their profiles and whether  they’re looking for love or friendship. Then we’ll match them based on preferences. On Valentines Day, we’ll separate students onto two sides of the sports field.  They’ll find the card with their names and put on their string before they set off to find their match!”

Excited chatter erupts among the group, everyone adding in their two cents. The next while is spent delegating tasks to everyone, from promotion to design to operations. By the time you wrap up it’s already close to 7pm.

Grabbing your belongings, you quickly throw them into your bag. Tsukishima should be wrapping up practice soon, and unless his teammates ask him to stay the two of you could walk home together.

Quickly, you make your way to the gym to find your boyfriend. From quite a distance away you can clearly hear Hinata and Kageyama shouting at each other as usual. When you arrive at the door, you’re greeted by a chorus of “hellos” from the volleyball club.

Your boyfriend jogs over to you, stopping just shy of the door. Upon further inspection, you can see the beads of sweat forming on his nose and forehead and you can’t help but smile, knowing how hard he must be working to make it to nationals this year.

“Y/N? What are you doing here still?” there’s a hint of standishoffness in his voice but you brush it aside, “My class was assigned to the Valentine’s Day event, so I stayed behind with some classmates to do some planning. I thought that we could walk home together?”

Tsukishima’s lips press into a thin line. Was he still angry with you?

“Sorry, but we’re still practicing.”

A voice chimes in from behind, “What are you talking about? You just said-”

The tall male whips around, you can’t see his expression but by the way Hinata reacts, you can tell he’s glaring at him.

“You know what, forget it. You obviously don’t want to walk home with me and I’m an adult so I can walk myself home.” Turning on your heels, you storm away from the gym, ignoring your boyfriend as he calls your name.

The next couple of weeks fly by as you’re busy preparing for the Valentine’s event.  Applications flow in every day, and although you’re glad the event is a hit you can’t help but feel exhausted.

The fact that you and Tsukishima haven’t spoken properly since your outburst doesn’t help either. Your text messages are short and infrequent; a simple “good morning” and “good night”, and sometimes the occasional “have a good day”.

Before you know it, Valentine’s Day arrives. As you step onto the field, your heart is racing uncontrollably. You’ve spent the past month alongside your classmates working out every single kink to ensure everything would be perfect for today.

You raise your arm into the air, the red flag in your hand dancing in the cold winter breeze. Taking in a deep breath, you call out as loud as you can, “Ready... set.... go!”

Laughter fills the air as you watch your school mates stumble between each other trying to find their other half for the day through the sea of red.

“Pull on your string, you might be my match!”

“Quit pushing me!”

“Hey, stop trying to tangle my string!!”

“You guys are totally matched together, you’re literally the same person.”

Your cheeks start to ache from smiling so hard, but you can’t help yourself. Watching as everyone slowly finds the end of the red string creates a warmth in your chest. You haven’t felt this way since... well since the day Tsukishima confessed to you.

It had happened last winter. The two of you were walking home together after his volleyball practice. You’re not sure what came over you at the time but you thought it would be a good idea to throw a snowball at him. The look on his face when the cold white powder hit him square in his chest was absolutely priceless. But the moment didn’t last long when he made a much much much larger snowball.

You screamed at the top of your lungs as he chased after you, determined to get back at you. After a few minutes, your lungs started to give out and so you turned around, hands held up in the air, “I give up, I’m sorry.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, snowball still in his hands ready to throw it at you if need be, “What are you sorry for?”

You tried to stifle your laughter, for someone who acted so cool all the time, seeing that side of him was honestly quite refreshing, “I’m sorry for throwing a snowball at you. You must be cold.”

“No.” In three swift strides, Tsukishima is standing in front of you, “I never feel cold when I’m with you, Y/N.”

A distant voice snaps you out of your daydream. When you come back to your senses, you realize everyone has found their match and is waiting for your closing remarks. Grabbing the microphone you quickly thank everyone for participating, sending them off with well wishes.

Once the majority of the students leave the field, you round up your classmates, thanking them for all the hard work they put into the event.

As you head back inside, a familiar voice calls your name, “Y/N!”

“Watanabe, thank you for the amazing idea. There’s no way I would have been able to think of something as creative as this.”

They quickly shake their head, “No way, I should be the one thanking you. You had so many more ideas to add on that really brought it to life. This event was totally a hit, I heard a lot of people saying they want to do this again next year.”

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you head back to your classroom to grab your things.

“Hey, Y/N...?”

“Yes?”

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Your head snaps towards them, the surprise evident on your face.

“Ah sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just wondering since you always seem so excited to talk about Valentine’s Day.”

You reach out, giving their shoulder a gentle pat, “That’s okay, I don’t mind,” you pause momentarily, “I don’t think I’m doing anything.”

Watanabe nods their head, clearly thinking about whether or not they should puruse the current topic. When they choose to let it go, you silently thank them, not wanting to be reminded of the fact that you and your boyfriend were still on bad terms on the supposed most romantic day of the year.

When you arrive at home, you try to distract yourself with your homework. Hours pass by, not a single message, or phone call. Even if Tsukishima didn’t like the holiday didn’t he at least have the heart to tell you “happy Valentine’s Day? Pulling out your phone, you open up your chat with your boyfriend. But before you can start typing, the familiar typing bubble pops up and you quickly exit out. You watch your screen expectantly, jumping when your phone chimes.

[10:43pm] ♥kei♥: good night.

Immediately, your shoulders deflate. That was it? Another simple goodnight? Throwing your phone in the corner, you climb into bed and shut your eyes. Maybe in your dreams you’d meet Tsukishima in a world where he truly cared.

Your body feels sluggish in the morning as you make your way to your cubby. Instead of sweet dreams, you tossed and turned all night unable to get Tsukishima off your mind. Pulling your indoor shoes out of their slot, you drop them to the floor with a thunk. You slip off your outdoor shoes, and just as you’re about to put them away, a red envelope catches your eye.

You look around to see if anybody is watching you, but everyone around you is absorbed in their own conversations. Quickly, you stuff your shoes away, before tearing the red packaging open.  

Dearest Y/N,

Where do I begin? When I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were an angel sent from the heavens. Seeing you smile at me sends my heart into a frenzy, and quite frankly, I’m not sure if I’ve even recovered from the last time you looked at me with those eyes. Those beautiful eyes that I could get lost in forever.

If only you were mine, I’d make you happy.

Love,

Your Secret Admirer

You were at a loss for words. From the way they addressed you, it was obvious it wasn’t your boyfriend. Yet, you couldn’t think of a single person that could have written you this letter.

The warning bell goes off and you shove the letter into your bag, rushing off to homeroom.

As the week continues on, so did the letters. No matter how hard you looked, you couldn’t figure out who was leaving them for you.

At your wits end, you decide to confide in Yachi. If you couldn’t catch sight of your secret admirer, maybe she could, “I’m telling you Yachi, it’s definitely not Kei. I have no idea who it could be and I have no idea how they keep slipping me these notes without me noticing!”

As you ramble on about your secret admirer, you fail to notice how silent Yachi has become. When you finally realize, you notice how stiff she’s become; the colour has drained from her face and she’s not looking at you, but past you.

Slowly you turn around, only to be met with a cold pair of eyes. The grip around your wrist is tight as you’re dragged down the hallway.

“Kei, you’re hurting me. Let go!” Your complaints are dismissed as the two of you continue on, stopping only when you reach the gym used by the boys’ volleyball club. Your body is shoved into the supply room, Tsukishima slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

Click

“Why have you been ignoring me?”

Your mouth hangs open, completely lost for words, “Kei you can’t be serious.”

The way his gaze pierces through you tells you he’s dead serious.

“Is it because of the letters you’ve been receiving? Who are they from? Do you like them?” His questions come rushing at you so fast, you can barely catch everything he’s saying.

But the longer he goes on, the angrier you feel yourself become. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your body trembles with anger, you even think you might be seeing red.

“Do you want to break up with me?”

It’s like something inside you snaps and you can’t bear to listen to his rambling any longer, “Tsukishima Kei,” your voice rings loud and clear in the small room. For a moment even you’re stunned at yourself.

You open your mouth to speak again, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a weak sob. You lean over, resting your hands on your knees as the tears build in your eyes. It only takes a moment for them to start streaming down your face.

“Kei you’re so stupid, you’re so fucking stupid.” When you feel his fingers graze your skin, you immediately step away, your back hitting the layer of gym mats.

He takes a step towards you, “Y/N...please tell me what I did wrong. Please.” His voice is soft, barely a whisper.

When you look up at him, he looks just as ruined as you do. The area around his eyes is bright red, tears brimming his eyes.

"I wish you loved me more.” The words are bitter in your mouth, but there’s truth in them.

But when you see the look on his face, you’re instantly filled with regret, “Kei I didn’t-” but he cuts off you off before you can continue, “Is this because I said I wasn’t planning anything for Valentine’s Day?”

You say nothing, but your silence tells him everything he needs to know. Running his fingers through his hair, he lets out a frustrated sigh, “Maybe if you weren’t hanging out with Watanabe or any of those other people.”

“We were working on the Valentine’s Day event, and you know that.” you spit back at him, anger brewing in your chest once again.

He steps towards you again, arms trapping you between his body and the mats behind you, “I bet one of them is the one sending you the letters.”

When you don’t respond, he starts to make his way out of the supply room stopping momentarily to look back at you, “Y/N, I don’t need a shitty holiday to express how much I love being with you, when I do it everyday. Or at least that’s what I thought.”

With that, he leaves you, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floors of the gym.

Over the weekend, you try to distract yourself from thinking about Tsukishima. But no matter what you do, everything always seems to lead right back to him.

Like the hoodie you’re wearing that he (reluctantly) gave you when you snuck out past midnight that one time. Or when your parents bring home the strawberry cake that the two of you would sometimes share at the bakery near your house.

While you drown in your feelings you ignore the knock on the door. But it comes again, and again, and again. Forcing yourself up from your bed, you make your way downstairs.

Swinging the front door open, you’re greeted by nothing but the emptiness of your front yard. Just as you’re about to shut the door, a flash of red catches your eye.

On the ground is a card and attached is a piece of long red string. The string passes your front gate but that’s as far as you can see. Cautiously you pick up the card, your name written clearly on the front. You don’t recognize the writing and so you debate with yourself for a few moments.

You shout to your parents that you’ll be back, not bothering to tell them why you were running off so late at night.

As you follow the red string you pass a number of familiar places. Your favourite bakery, the record store that has all the albums of your favourite artists, and the book store you like to hide in on rainy days.

At last, the string leads you to the park. Your eyes follows the string to where it disappears behind a nearby tree. Slowly you approach, your feet crunching against the snow.

Just before you can identify the person at the end of the string, a ball of white is hurled towards your chest.

You look down, the icy crystals already melting into the fabric of your hoodie. The sound of footsteps catch your attention, the culprit walking out with his signature smirk plastered across his face.

“What the hell was that for?”

Suddenly, you’re pulled into a hug. It’s warm and familiar, the feeling has you melting into his arms.

His hands grab fistfuls of your hoodie, pushing you closer to his body, holding you as if you were going to melt away just like the snow. Part of you is still angry at him for lashing out at you, but the other part of you knows that you were also in the wrong. So you stay, you stay in his arms because when you’re together like this, your heart knows that it’s home.

The two of you continue to stand there, breathing in sync, hearts beating as if they were one. 

“Y/N I’m sorry.” His voice breaks the silence between the two of you.

One of his arms wraps itself securely around your waist, the other rising to cup your cheek, “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you like that, it’s not your fault you were getting those letters.”

You shake your head furiously, wanting to tell him he’d done nothing wrong but when you look into his golden eyes. It’s a look you’ve never once seen before. It’s almost as if they’re pleading for you to listen, just for now. So desperate yet so full of love.

“I should have realized how important Valentine’s Day is to you. When you hung up on me, I should have realized. When I saw you the next day I shouldn’t have run from you. Being away from you hurt me, and I know it hurt you just as much. It wasn’t fair of me.”

There are a million thoughts running through your mind, but there’s one that you can see clearly.

“Kei, I love you.”

Maybe it was the winter chill, or maybe you’ve finally managed to fluster him, but nonetheless his ears burn a bright red.

“I didn’t mean what I said the other day - about wishing you loved me more. I know you do. I know you don’t say it often, but everything you do for me shows me you do.”

You ramble on, listing every action of love, big or small, that you can recall. Your speech is cut short when your boyfriend captures your lips in a chaste kiss.

His lips are cold against yours, yet when he pulls away, your mouth feels like they’ve been set aflame, “Y/N, I love you. If you want, I’ll make you feel as if Valentine’s Day is everyday.”

Your heart flip flops at those three words but all you can say is, “Kei you’re cold.”

Gently, he knocks his forehead against yours, “I’m never cold. Not when I’m with you.”