tsukki simp

It started with a rejection.

It was not the quiet, apologetic kind. It wasn't even a vague, gentle letdown.

You had barely even finished the words "I like you" before Tsukishima Kei, obviously unmoved, muttered a flat, "No thanks. I'm not interested."

You blinked at him under the afternoon sun, heard thudding in your ears, too stunned to process the way he turned and walked away. No sugarcoating. It was just typical Tsukishima. Just cold, brutal honesty.

And yet—somehow—you didn't give up.

You first met Tsukishima Kei through Yachi Hitoka.

You were from a different class, but the two of you were friends since you both live in the same apartment building.

Yachi had dragged you to Karasuno's volleyball practice one afternoon, pleading with you to help her carry some boxes of water and first aid supplies. She was the newly recruited manager. You had no real reason to go—you weren’t particularly into volleyball—but you owed Yachi a favor.

And that's where you saw him.

Tall, aloof, and sharp-tongued, Tsukishima wasn't exactly what you'd call approachable. But something about him fascinated you. Maybe it was the quiet fire behind his eyes, or how he seemed to carry the weight of ambition without ever admitting he cared.

You didn't know what possessed you to like him.

Maybe it was the way his eyes narrowed in concentration or how he always looked vaguely annoyed with the world, yet never missed a block. Maybe it was how he ignored the chaos around him, but occasionally paused to push his glasses up in a way that made your chest flutter.

Whatever it was, it rooted itself in your chest.

You started attending their practice more frequently, using Yachi as an excuse most of the time. You were okay with helping her and you would immediately accept her to help her. At this point, you were the third "unofficial" manager of the team. Kiyoko even offered you the position, which you gently let down.

You started small. A bottle of energy drink with a post-it: "Good luck!" (Yachi delivered it, of course). You've also made him a neatly wrapped onigiri for one of their practice match. A chocolate bar with a tiny sticker that said "For #11." Yachi was happy to always give them though.

A few weeks later you confessed.

He didn't even blink. "No thanks, I'm not interested."

It stung.

You should've stopped.

But you didn't.

"It's okay!" You smiled. "I'll still cheer for you."

Tsukishima scoffs, before walking away.

You did keep your promise. When it was the final match of the Miyagi Prefectural Spring Qualifiers, you were there, cheering him on. You were seated with Yachi by the spectators. Tsukishima would glance in your direction from time to time and every time he would scoff afterwards.

"Tsukki's spikes are on point today."

"I've also noticed that." You agreed with Yachi. "Maybe because this is the finals. Once they win, they'll go to Tokyo."

Your conversation with Yachi was cut off when the referee whistled for a substitution. Kiyoko was running out of the court with Tsukishima who looked like he was in pain while holding his other hand. You could see there was a bit of blood dripping from his pinky.

This made you worried, but there was nothing you could do and you couldn't go to the infirmary since you were not a manager to begin with. Yachi reassures you though that he would be alright.

Tsukishima returned to the game but his hand was now in bandages, which made you sigh in relief. After the match, you and Yachi went down to meet with the rest of the team to congratulate them. You caught Tsukishima who was headed to the changing rooms. His hand was unbandaged now, the makeshift tape coming loose.

"Wait, Kei." You called out softly.

He turned with a tired glance. You lifted up the small kit.

"Let me help. Your pinky—it's not taped properly."

He frowned, obviously reluctant, but after a beat, he sighed and nodded. "Fine. Just be quick."

You sat with him just outside the infirmary, the crowd still buzzing in the background. With practiced gentleness, you cleaned the small scrape and began wrapping his finger again.

"You're not a medic," he muttered, watching your careful work.

"No, but I've had practice with sprains. And you're not exactly gentle with yourself."

He huffed but didn’t pull away. You worked in silence, brushing your fingers lightly over his.

"You didn’t have to do this."

"I wanted to. You were amazing tonight."

He looked at you then—really looked. But whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.

You tied the final bit of tape. "There. Try not to break more fingers next time."

He clicked his tongue but said nothing as you stood and offered a faint smile before walking away to look for Yachi.

You didn't go to see their matches in Tokyo, though you could, but you didn't since you just couldn't skip classes. Yachi was forcing and pleading you to go with them, but you told her that you couldn't really skip classes and she muttered under her breath, "Tsukki's gonna be in a foul mood if you don't come."

"What?"

"Nothing." She said, pouting.

You handed Yachi an omamori and smiled, "Give this to Kei and tell him good luck."

Yachi gave you a teasing look before safely putting the good luck charm inside her bag. "Don't you want to give up?"

You shook your head. "Nope."

"Well, who am I to even stop you in the first place?"

Yachi delivered your apology and good lucks to the team, along with the good luck charm for Tsukishima. Yachi gave Tsukishima a teasing smile before going up to Kiyoko.

Back at practice in Tokyo, Hinata pouted, "It's weird not having her around, isn't it?"

Yamaguchi grinned. "Tsukki's been extra grumpy. Coincidence?"

"I am not," Tsukishima snapped, shooting them a glare.

Yachi giggled nervously. "You do seem… quieter than usual."

He shoved his glasses up. "Don't be ridiculous."

But he didn’t deny it.

When second year rolled around, your feelings didn't fade. If anything, they deepened. You still showed up to every game and practice match and even made special chocolate for Valentine's (you also made for the rest of the team since you'd gotten close to them at this point). Sometimes, even protein bars or sports drinks after practice which were, of course, delivered by Yachi.

Your persistence had become a running joke among the team.

Yamaguchi once asked you with a laugh, "Are you planning on confessing again today, or are you giving him a snack break first?"

You just grinned. "Depends on his mood."

But underneath the teasing was a fondness—a recognition of how constant you were.

"He pretends he doesn’t care," Yachi whispered during lunch, poking at her food, "but I saw him keep the wrapper from the chocolate you gave him."

You paused. "Really?"

She nodded quickly. "He doesn’t throw your stuff out anymore. I think that’s progress."

You had no illusions. Tsukishima wasn’t the type to fall headfirst into anything, let alone a high school crush. He was cold, calculating, and painfully aware of how others perceived him. But still, you kept showing up. And something began to shift.

You noticed it in little things.

He’d stop walking away so quickly when you talked to him.

He’d take the snacks directly from your hand instead of through Yachi.

He’d grumble, "Tch, unnecessary," but still pocket the sweets.

And when a third-year on the basketball team tried to flirt with you behind the gym one day, Tsukishima appeared like a shadow.

"She’s busy," he said, stepping in just slightly in front of you.

"Didn’t think you cared, Tsukishima."

"I don’t. But she has bad taste, so someone has to keep her alive."

You were too stunned to respond.

But later that day, you gave him a lemon soda. He didn’t say thank you, but he drank it in front of you this time.

Another incident where you were helping out Yamaguchi and Yachi pin posters for sponsorship for the spring tournament, Yamaguchi said something that also stuck with you.

"He gets grumpy when you’re not at games," Yamaguchi said casually one afternoon while you were helping Yachi pin posters for the spring tournament.

You paused. "What?"

He grinned, too knowing. "He’ll never admit it. But if you’re not there cheering… his blocks aren’t as sharp. His mood dips. I think he’s gotten used to you."

Your heart fluttered at the idea. But then you remembered the way Kei would scoff every time you got too close. You knew better than to get your hopes up.

Still—you showed up. You always did.

Your second confession came during the school festival.

The night air was cool against your skin, carrying the faint scent of grilled food and melted candy. The laughter and chatter of your classmates echoed in the distance, muffled by the steady beat of your heart as you walked toward the back of the school building.

Fireworks lit up the sky above, loud and brilliant—explosions of crimson, blue, and gold that danced across the clouds and cast flickering shadows against the rooftop. The world felt briefly suspended in light.

And there he was.

Tsukishima Kei stood near the railing, just out of view from the main festivities, bathed in the soft glow of firework shimmer. His arms were loosely crossed, posture relaxed but solitary, as if the weight of the night pressed too closely in crowded spaces.

You hesitated at first, your fingers tightening around the hem of your sleeves. But you took a step forward anyway.

"Tsukishima," you called out, gently.

He didn’t look surprised.

His eyes flicked toward you, half-lidded, unbothered. The familiar indifference was there in the slight tilt of his chin, the unimpressed slant of his brow.

"Let me guess," he drawled, his voice a little more subdued than usual, "another confession?"

You smiled, small. Not embarrassed, not hopeful. Just honest.

"Yeah."

A beat of silence followed. He didn’t scoff this time. Didn’t shake his head or turn away. He just… looked up. Toward the sky. Toward the bursts of light painting the clouds.

"You’re wasting your time," he said at last, tone flat, like he was stating a fact more than trying to hurt you.

You nodded slowly, the corners of your lips dipping in acceptance. “Probably. But I still like you.”

Another silence stretched between you. But it wasn’t heavy.

It felt like the space after a long breath. Like neither of you needed to say anything else to fill it.

Kei didn’t walk away this time.

He stayed there, hands in his jacket pockets, eyes on the horizon as the last few fireworks painted gold into his blond hair and soft shadows under his eyes.

He didn’t say thank you. Or I’m sorry. Or don’t.

But he didn’t push you away either.

His shoulders had relaxed slightly. The usual edge in his stance—the one that screamed Don’t get close—had dulled. And though he didn’t look at you, he didn’t seem to mind your presence.

So you stood beside him, close enough to hear the way his breath caught with each firework burst.

The world was quiet in that little space you shared. No declarations. No grand romantic gestures. Just the sound of distant music, the echo of fireworks, and the stubborn truth you carried in your chest.

You took his silence as progress.

Because sometimes staying said more than any rejection ever could.

By third year, something between you had changed.

You weren’t just a background character in his day anymore. You were there—persistent, present, and impossible to ignore.

You weren’t loud about it. Never demanding, never clingy. But your presence threaded itself into his routine like a habit he didn’t remember forming.

You learned the rhythms of his life: when he had exams and needed space to study, when his knees hurt after long practices and he walked with just the slightest wince. You started carrying an extra pain patch in your bag without saying why. You knew when he wanted silence—those days when the weight of everything made him sharper-tongued than usual—and when he needed a distraction, even if he never asked for one.

He learned things, too. Things you hadn’t meant for him to notice.

That you liked melon bread more than any other snack, even though you pretended not to be picky. That you always hummed softly under your breath when you were nervous—little melodies that stopped just short of forming actual songs. That your smile was always a little brighter, a little fuller, whenever you handed him something: a drink, a small note, chocolates during Valentine’s—even when you knew he wouldn’t react the way you hoped.

He caught himself watching you more often than he liked to admit.

Once, during a water break at practice, you were talking to Yachi near the gym doors. Your laughter filtered in easily, soft and light. Tsukishima glanced your way—just a glance—and lingered too long.

Yamaguchi caught him.

“You like her, don’t you?” Tadashi asked later, a little too casually.

“Shut up,” Kei muttered, not looking up from the sports drink he was pretending to be way too interested in.

Tadashi grinned. “You literally growled at that guy from Nekoma for asking her where she bought her jacket.”

“He was being weird.”

“Jealousy looks weird on you, Kei.”

“I will end you.”

But even that was different. Because he didn’t deny it.

And maybe that meant something.

Still, it wasn’t all teasing and harmless glances. There were moments where something heavier settled between you—where Kei seemed at war with himself, tugged between pride and something softer he didn’t quite know how to carry.

After a tough loss at a practice match—one that hit harder because it had been close—he sat outside the gym alone. The sky was already going gray, the air damp with oncoming rain. Everyone else had filed into the bus, too tired to say much.

You didn’t ask for permission. You just stepped off the bus, walked quietly over, and sat beside him.

You didn’t say anything. Just handed him a canned coffee—his favorite kind, the bitter one you personally thought tasted like disappointment—and let the silence breathe.

Ten minutes passed. Long and quiet and a little raw.

Finally, he spoke.

“You don’t have to keep trying.”

His voice was low. Tired. Defeated in a way you rarely saw from him.

“I’m not worth it.”

You turned to look at him, blinking slowly, your heart pulling tight.

“You don’t get to decide what’s worth it for me.”

His shoulders tensed, jaw clenching briefly. He didn’t look at you. But he didn’t move away either.

He didn’t say anything after that.

You stayed until he finished the coffee.

Then Nationals came by. You were determined to watch them after learning that they’d advance to the semifinals and were finally back at the center court. You were about to pull some strings, but good thing the vice principal was nice enough to let the students watch the volleyball team in Tokyo.

The Nationals were everything.

For Karasuno, it was the culmination of years of growth, grit, and stubborn perseverance. For you, it was watching him—the boy who once scoffed at your feelings—rise higher than anyone expected, one perfectly timed block at a time.

You cheered until your throat was raw. You clutched your chest with every rally. And when they secured third place, you stood in the stands, tears in your eyes and pride blooming so fiercely in your chest it almost hurt.

You were proud of all of them—of Kageyama’s precision, of Hinata’s impossible speed, of Yamaguchi’s quiet bravery—but mostly, you were proud of him.

Tsukishima Kei.

He had changed. Not loudly, not in some grand sweeping arc. But little by little, he had let himself care. You saw it in the way he threw himself into every play, in the way he smirked after a well-timed block, in the way he started calling his teammates by name.

But still, you didn’t confess that day. Not yet.

Because this time, you needed it to be real. Not a question, not a whim, not a gamble.

Late that night, when the stadium had emptied and the streets had quieted, you found him.

The gym was dim and nearly silent, save for the soft hum of the overhead lights and the distant clatter of janitorial carts somewhere down the hall. He stood near center court, his jersey still clinging to him with sweat and exhaustion. His head was tilted back, eyes tracing the ceiling as though he were still replaying the match in his mind.

You stopped in the doorway, watching him quietly for a moment.

“Karasuno did amazing,” you whispered, the words reverent. Like praise. Like prayer.

He didn’t look at you, but his voice came low. “Could’ve done better.”

You stepped closer, your footsteps echoing softly on the polished gym floor. “Tsukki…”

He turned, eyes meeting yours finally.

“…This is the last time.”

His brows drew together, faintly. He said nothing, but you could feel the tension in the air tighten, like the pause before a serve.

“I like you,” you said, voice shaking but certain. “I’ve liked you for three years. But this is the last time I’ll say it. If you reject me now, I’ll stop.”

The silence stretched, taut as a string pulled too tight.

Then he sighed. Looked away.

“You’re so stupid,” he muttered, the words quiet but harsh. “Wasting your time on someone like me.”

You bit your lip, but still smiled through the sting. “Probably.”

Something shifted. His shoulders, usually squared and defensive, lowered a fraction. And then—he stepped closer.

“You never left,” he said, softer now. “Even when I was an ass. Even when I pretended not to care.”

Your breath caught. He wasn’t looking at you directly, but his hands were fidgeting at his sides, clenching and unclenching like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I noticed,” he admitted. “Everything. The snacks. The cheering. The stupid little notes you kept sneaking into my locker. I noticed all of it.”

His voice cracked slightly, like the admission cost him something.

“I just… I didn’t know how to deal with someone who actually gave a damn.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak.

Then his hand lifted—hesitant, trembling just barely—and his fingers brushed against your cheek. Awkward. Gentle. Like he was trying to memorize the shape of your face.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he whispered.

You let out a shaky laugh, relief bubbling up in your chest like the end of a long, aching winter. “Took you long enough.”

And finally—finally—he leaned in.

You met him halfway.

The kiss wasn’t perfect. It was hesitant and slightly off-center, and you could feel the tremor in his fingers where they now cupped your jaw. But it was soft and real and so full of everything unsaid over three long years. Years of cold shoulders, soft glances, unnoticed favors, and a hundred quiet hopes.

When you pulled away, breath mingling, your forehead rested against his, and for a moment, everything was still.

And then—

“Tsukki kissed her!!”

Hinata’s voice echoed across the gym like a fire alarm.

You both froze.

Tsukishima turned slowly, murder in his eyes.

Yachi stumbled into view, wide-eyed with panic. “We weren’t spying!”

“You were literally hiding behind the curtain,” you deadpanned, not even bothering to sound surprised.

“I tried to stop them!” Yachi insisted, flapping her arms like a terrified bird. “They dragged me into it!”

Yamaguchi emerged next, dragging a snickering Hinata by the collar while Kageyama followed, red-faced and visibly trying not to make eye contact.

“I swear to god,” Tsukishima muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I will kill all of you.”

“Totally worth it,” Hinata whispered loudly to Yamaguchi, who was grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

“Told you she’d get you eventually,” Yamaguchi added, clearly far too smug for his own good.

You glanced at Tsukishima. He was glaring, his cheeks faintly pink, jaw clenched like he was weighing the pros and cons of turning around and walking into traffic.

But his hand was still resting lightly against your back.

So maybe, you thought, as you looked at him—just maybe—he didn’t mind being caught after all.

Graduation day arrived too soon.

The campus buzzed with a bittersweet energy—laughter ringing out over caps and gowns, tearful hugs exchanged in hallways, and the steady click of camera shutters capturing fleeting moments. You held your diploma in one hand and your future in the other, but your eyes searched for him.

And there he was.

Standing beneath the arching cherry blossoms, hands in his pockets, tassel swinging lazily from his cap. The same spot where you’d confessed to him just a year ago. The same courtyard where everything had changed.

You walked over, heels crunching lightly on fallen petals, nerves fluttering even now—because even after everything, this still felt surreal.

“Still not tired of me?” you asked, voice light, teasing—just enough to cover the emotion behind it.

Tsukishima glanced your way, and for a moment, the world hushed.

He rolled his eyes, but the edge that used to come with it was gone—softened into something warm, familiar. He was smiling now. That small, rare smile he saved just for you.

"Not even close," he murmured.

And then he leaned in, fingers brushing your jaw with quiet certainty, and kissed you. There was no hesitation this time. No guarded edges. Just the press of his lips against yours, firm and steady and full of promise.

Because you waited.

Because you stayed.

Because you never gave up on him—not even when he pushed you away, not even when he said nothing at all.

And against all odds, Tsukishima Kei had fallen in love.

With you.

And in that moment, with cherry blossoms drifting like confetti around you, you knew:

It had been worth every awkward silence.

Every rejection.

Every year of trying.

Because this—this—was everything.

Bonus scene.

Years passed.

The sound of sneakers squeaking on hardwood floors was replaced with roaring crowds, giant jumbotrons, and professional-level pressure. But some things hadn’t changed.

You still sat in the stands, heart in your throat, cheering louder than anyone else. You still kept your eyes on him—watching every block, every play, every subtle tilt of his head. The arenas were bigger now, the spotlight brighter. But to you, he was still Kei. Still the boy who used to hide behind sarcasm and side comments. Still the boy who kissed you under cherry blossoms.

That night, his team had clawed their way to victory in a five-set thriller. The final point had the crowd erupting. You stood in the stands, clapping until your hands stung, pride burning in your chest like a second heartbeat.

Afterward, you made your way to the side entrance—where the press couldn’t follow. You waited behind the barricades, bundled in your coat as the late winter air nipped at your cheeks. The cold settled in your bones, but you didn’t mind.

You always waited.

Eventually, he appeared. His warm-up jacket was unzipped halfway, hair still damp from a quick rinse, duffel bag slung casually over his shoulder. He looked tired—but content. The kind of tired that came from giving everything he had.

His eyes scanned the crowd, ignoring reporters and staff—until they landed on you.

And softened.

"You always wait," he said, stepping closer until he stood on the other side of the gate.

"And you always win," you replied, smiling despite the chill.

He chuckled—low, breathy. Real. He stepped past the barrier with ease, his hand catching yours before pulling you into his arms. His embrace was firm, grounding, like coming home.

His chin rested atop your head, and for a while, neither of you said anything. Just the quiet thrum of distant cheers and the beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

Then, softly, almost like a secret:

“Remember when you said you’d stop confessing if I rejected you again?”

You smiled into his chest. “Yeah. I meant it, too.”

A beat of silence. Then he tilted your chin up with two fingers, his gaze steady.

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

And then he kissed you—without restraint, without fear. It was deeper now. Certain. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask questions anymore—it just knew.

You kissed him back with every piece of your heart.

Because time had passed, but love had only deepened.

Because he had chosen you—again and again and again.

And somewhere deep in your soul, you understood:

This was still only the beginning.

i mentioned in a previous post that i think kei is more of an intimate person rather than affectionate. 

while he may not be comfy (yet) with overly showy public displays of affection, there are little things he does outside his well-guarded privacy that people who are strangers to kei and his little ways of love that might not think otherwise when he does them. but for you and for the people close to him, the teasing is endless. 

yk those times where couples aren't even doing anything showy as hell, like theyre not kissing or hugging or touching in any way that is viewed as couply or romance-y and yet it feels like you're intruding on smth? that.

i. hair

kei, with his surname, either sits at the back of the room or at the front but definitely not the first in his column

let's say your surname goes earlier than him and you end up sitting in front of him 

kei usually pays attention to his lectures despite the dreary call of sleep in the early mornings, after morning practice too

kei takes notes to avoid falling asleep but sometimes, you and your daringly bold ass full on sleeps with your head pillowed on your folded arms and your hair going which way wherever as it spills loosely behind you if its long enough or spikes up in all direction if it's short as you mushes your face on your arms

its a wonder the sensei hasnt sent you out but maybe sitting at the farthest left of the room near the windows leaves you two out of the sensei's peripheral

taking notes sometime doesn't work in prying his eyes awake so the next best thing is pestering his partner

he reaches in front of him and gathers a few strands in his fingers; he rubs them between his fingers, twirls them around, starts braiding them loosely

more often than not, you'll wake up after first period with a few loose braids at the ends of your hair. a normal occurence tbh

if you're sitting beside him, mf will lean on his elbow and face you. he'll reach over and tuck your hair behind your ear, no matter the length. he'll rub a few strands in his fingers and ask if you got a haircut, do you want to if you haven't yet, he can go with you after his practice 

it's a usual sight for your classmates, unprovoked and they can't do shit about it lest they're fearless in the face of kei's silver tongue 

speaking of usual sight, the volleyball team and your classmates don't know when it started but they just started noticing kei having taken to wearing at least two hair ties on his wrists

they were curious bc homie's hair isn't long enough to be tied up in a ponytail nor a manbun

the confusion, america explain, and sudden urge to break objects that they felt was immeasurable when they hear you complaining about your hair and seeing kei rolling his eyes at you then proceeding to offer his hair ties to you

branching from the hair ties hc, kei does put your hair up in a haphazard bun or ponytail if you fall asleep on the table when you guys are studying 

every after practice, if time pernits and the homeworks were not towering, you wait for kei with towels which you use to dry his hair with

the first time you started doing it, he was teasing you with how whipped you were. but he soon started bending at the waist or sitting down so you wouldn't have to reach that far (he also doesn't want your skirt riding up bc of his 2nd year senpais so most of the time when youre drying the sweat from his hair, he's holding his varsity jacket behind your waist too)

he likes doing your hair too whenever he comes over your place, you guys are gonna be in the living room with one of you on the floor and the other on the couch

he'll be running his fingers through your hair or seperating them into sections, you'll be watching tutorials and he's watching from behind trying to replicate it

he'll be leaning back against you as you run your hands against his scalp, the position a bit uncomfy but he's in between your thighs and within your arms so he shuts up and sucks it up

ii. shoes

whenever you guys are going out and you're not wearing slip-ons, kei makes it a habit to sit you down on the genkan to double check/double loop your shoe laces 

if you're wearing slip ons or sandals, geta sandals, slippers, whatever footwear that goes flying from your foot if it's not snug enough, kei will sneer at you and call you clumsy. all while he makes you stay in one place as he picks up ur fallen footwear 

"this is why i told you to wear velcro on your tiny ass feet."

"your shoes suck. why is it flying, it's supposed to stay on the ground?"

"your feet also suck, shouldve just wore these on your hand so you can hold it”

mf will run his mouth while inserting your shoes for you, tying up your shoe laces, making sure it's double looped

i feel like, in this wildly deluded mind of mine, that kei would be into matching shoes. that green asic vb shoes he has? he went on a field day with the rest of the first years just to find one in your size

the slides too. you have that hot pink slides so bright it burns? kei has the same pair in men's size as his house slippers

that purple fur slippers you use in your bedroom? yes he has one in his bedroom too, mf brings it over when he comes over your place

he doesn't show it, aside from a scowl on his face and his chin on his palm covering his lips, but he's a bit tingly inside whenever you're the one that ties his shoelace before games

shoyo says kei's blocks have wider coverage and has more kill power and his jumps are more solid whenever you do it (even tobio had to admit it)

whenever you guys study together, you sit in front of each other. and while he has no problems focusing for long periods of time, you might not

you try to play footsies with him under the table. sometimes, he plays along. most of the times, he traps both of your feet between his legs for the rest of your study time.

you have to drum your fingers within his line of sight to get his attention if you ever wanna go to the vendo or to the comfort room

iii. food

you guys eat lunch together, whether it's facing each other sharing kei's desk in the classroom or in the canteen with the rest of the first years; you guys always have to eat facing each other bc kei has this notion that your mouth is just a big void with a tear on the side

"so i can see how messy you eat, brat. who's gonna wipe your face, huh?"

kei always lets you go first in line, closely following you behind. whenever you ask why, he just tells you to mind your food (which you do btw) and grabs your tray to carry after you finished. he carries both of your trays in each hand. 

you guys will be eating, in your own bubble, as the remaining first years dissolve into chaos regarding the lunch of the day (shoyo and tobio)

"you heard sensei earlier right? we have a pair- what? why are you staring- oh. thank you, kei." 

you were talking to kei when you noticed he was unusually staring your face off. he reached over, still chewing, and wiped the side of your lips as if it's second nature. your face frozen between a raging blush and an endeared smile

you can hear tobio shrivelling in confused disgust nearby

if there are times when you can't get your own, like if ur cramming homeworks or reviews for next period, he'll run his mouth (again) on how irresponsible you are and how pitiful your body for having you as an owner BUT he'll be getting your lunch with him

"i can feed myself kei."

"oh yes you can, i can see that, idiot. but will you? ofc not, cause your dumbass forgot to do homework."

which leads to this certain scenario of you being the quiet one for once, and kei doing the talking while you guys eat. 

you'll be focused down on whatever it is you're holding, kei will be talking about the idiot duo during morning practice while inching to you a spoonful from your bento (you just open your mouth mechanically, not minding the stricken looks from your classmates) 

i think kei has a special fondness for wired earphones, despite canonically using wireless headphones. wireless headphones are convenient in tuning out his surroundings when he's alone. 

if there is a vacant period in the middle of a school day and no school events needed preparing, you and kei are usually seen sharing earphones while watching on his phone.

you'd be eating from a bag of chips and kei would be nudging you with his shoulder with his mouth slightly ajar. you'd be absentmindedly reaching up to him, feeding him chips. 

i would say kei is not that conscious about who he shares his drinks and food with, mans literally in a sports team and their drinking bottles aren't labelled unless they bring their own. 

but kei wouldn't exactly mind if you take a sip from his milkshake or take a bite from his cake, he might even be the one subconsciously offering them to you.

"is that the new bun down at shimada's mart?"

"yeah, yamaguchi brought enough for the team from his mentor. here, careful. it's still a bit warm."

"y/n, shoyo said this is from the new milktea shop down the street. king and him bought for the first years impulsively. it's taro, thought you'd like some … of course you're taking first sip, just wanna make sure it doesn't tastes like shit."

iv. hands

now kei is subtle and quiet in his affections

tho shit happens when he's tired and his inhibitions are lowered, he gets clingy. not touchy, clingy (he's insisting). he does get touchy, but clingy more so. 

he follows you around, more insistent on being near you. he physically keeps you guys together by interlacing your fingers, sober!kei would hit exhausted!kei

he doesn't babble when he's tired, he's actually quieter than usual. he'll answer yes or no questions by squeezing your hand gently, with one squeeze for yes and two squeeze for no 

you guys will be walking home and kei would randomly bring your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your palms. you guys will spend a long time at their doorstep since he wouldnt let you go, not until he's kissed all of your knuckles bye and whispered see you tomorrow to them

(you teased him once about and he revoked partner privileges for a day. both of you suffered.) 

when you guys are studying, your hands are on the table right? 

unconsciously, kei holds your free hand with his free hand. you don't mind most of the times, he plays with your hands a lot when he does so. 

pressing your palms, squeezing your hands, interlacing and uninterlacing your fingers. sometimes he just stop doing his work and marvel at the difference between your hand and his

he doesn't do these a lot, the hand thingy, it's more prominent when he's really, really tired. like post-matches, post-exams. 

his face burns all the shades of the sun if he dares do this in public despite vehement verbal denials

v. extra

it's canon that kei doesn't like unnecessary needless effort. but well, you're necessary to him. so. 

lil bro would always make an effort, even if he's acting grumpy about it

if it were up to him, he won't let you do the heavy lifting when you're with him. but he values your space and independence, so he's content in spending time with you (a recurring theme in the kei i write is that he is an act of service and quality time girlie) 

i mentioned in the food part that he carries your food tray for you, he raises it up in the air far from you if you try to take it back from him 

"if you want it so bad, come and get it up here then— ow!", you kick him in the shins most of the time

if you guys go shopping, he has an average patience meter. he won't rush you, but he'll probably stay outside the store to wait for you instead of accompanying you inside

but, plus side is no matter how much you spend, he'll carry your bags for you. with minimal complaints ofc, it wouldn't be kei if he's not a bit snarky.

whenever you guys walk home, he snatches your bag from you and carry both of your book bags. this happens especially after gruesome school days full of exams or reviews. 

you'll have to feed him since mf will insist his hands are full

as much as kei likes teasing you about your height difference, kei worries during school festival preparations. 

there will be tasks involving stepping up a ladder, carrying planks to and fro, just general grunt work that he worries will end up injuring you or smth

as mentioned, kei will be wanting to do these for you. 

when you need to string decors at the top of the curtains, he'll either hold the ladder for you or go up himself.

when you're on the team who needs to buy materials, he'll drag the rest of the first years and they would switch teams with you

when you have to move around heavy materials from floor to floor or around the classroom, he'll snatch it from you and ask where you're heading

"be real, y/n. you'll be flattened with this, let the athlete handle it."

but if he can't stop you from doing those tasks, then he'll just do it with you (you'll have the lighter part of the task, you're his little headache)

i am at a loss for words, i didn’t expect how well the reception was gonna be for my first two x reader fics here :”) thank you, i really really appreciate the comments, reblogs, and the spam likes. my serotonin boost tbh. sorry i’m not replying in the comments (bc idk how, this wasnt in my job description hdgashgdhasf) and to those asking for part 2s, i see you and maybe it’s in my drafts already.

watching you ice skate was one of tsukishima’s favorite after school activities. he would take an hour-long ride to see you on the rink for at least a few minutes. the blonde boy wouldn’t admit it, but helping you with stretching out, or recording your jumps, so you could watch it over, and over again, was just as satisfying as when he blocked wakatoshi’s spike.

so when you called him in the middle of his school day, barely breathing and said that you might lose both scholarship, and a place at shiratorizawa, because of how terrible you were with your studies (mostly ‘cause of your focus on skating), he knew there wasn’t a single scenario in the world, where he wouldn’t help you.

not only, because he was already so whipped for you, but also because you deserved everything that would help you out in pursuing your dreams and career. you’ve already made so many sacrifices that you couldn’t just leave in the middle, and tsukishima wasn’t the person, who would stand in the way of your happiness.

“i’m not your boyfriend for nothing, right? i’ll help you.” he replied, cutting you off as you panicked, imagining every possible scenario in your head. “i’ll make sure no one will take the scholarship from you, try to breathe, okay?”

Every time he had tutored you, you weren’t able to focus. your eyes would always wander around his face, flustering the shit out of your boyfriend at the same time. keeping your focus off him seemed like a crime, and you weren’t a criminal.

however, this time was supposed to be different, your career was on stake, and tsukishima wasn’t the one who would let you let it down, you weren’t the one as well. ever since the day, when dad took you and oikawa skating, you knew it was your thing, so tossing aside classes and homework to stay a minute longer on the ice-rink wasn’t the worst thing.

when the clock hit 8 in the evening, and your entire body gave up on another jumps, you finally took off skates with an additional help of your boyfriend, who untied them. his hand hung loosely around your shoulders as you walked towards your dad’s car.

“hello, mr. oikawa.” tsukishima greeted your father, opening the door for you. “would you mind if i stay overnight? y/n-san needs a little help with her studies.” he asked politely, a smile rosed on your dad’s face as he nodded.

“thank you.” you let out, exhausted. your head resting on his shoulder with the accompaniment of dim outside, and hushed music from the radio. you got to your house half an hour later, and in the meantime you decided that your boyfriend would stay for the whole weekend since the upcoming exams of yours were supposed to happen on monday.

you sat on your bed, starting off with maths, which surprisingly seemed to be the easiest for you, books surrounding you two as you groaned, falling onto the mattress. “we wouldn’t have to be here if you actually took care of your grades, remember?” he looked at you, eyebrows knitted together.

“i can’t do this.” you whined, hands on top of your faces, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. it took you ten seconds to get over the little breakdown. “give me another exercise.” you stayed up till two, with a little break for something to eat.

as a reward, you finally got to kiss him as he refused to let you for almost all day, pulling back whenever you leaned to give him a smooch. his hands cupped your, bruised from falling, hips, pulling you as close as he only could. his soft lips moved against his, and you sigh, making him smile, because it feels too good to be kissing him after such a tiring experience.

his hands fell lower on your bare thighs, caressing small circles on your skin. your fingers ruffling through his hair, pulling on them sometimes. the kiss would probably last waaaaay longer, if it wasn’t for tōru, who barged into your room.

“fuck, can’t you two behave?” your brother rolled your eyes at you, grabbing something from your desk, not even sparing you a glare (thank god). “hands off her, i already have a nephew, and don’t need another one.” he remarked, cocking his head to the side. “oh, fumiko will drop off takeru tomorrow.”

“can’t you knock?” you replied, frowning as you watched him, leaning on the door frame. “what? i have to study, i can’t fail the exams or i will lose my place at school.”

“excuse me, what?”

“we have it under control, can you go now, please?” you pleaded, cheeks burning hot, after his comment on making a nephew. when he finally left (after another five minutes of teasing you, of course), you yawned, and focused yourself on the blonde boy next to you.

he swiftly switched off the light, laid down, and waited for you to cling to his side before drifting to sleep way too fast, as you always did. “night, love you.” you whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

the next two days were exactly the same as the friday evening. tōru took over your shift, as you called it, with takeru, so you and tsukishima could spend more time studying japanese literature and english. when the time of his visit at your house, came to the end, you were a mess, stressing out that the weekend wasn’t enough, and you needed more time to learn something more.

“you’ll do great, okay? i know that.” his fingers held your chin, making you look at him. “you don’t need to worry about it, call me as soon as you know the results, okay?” you nodded, letting him kiss you for the last time, before you bid goodbyes.

he was in the middle of the morning practice, when yachi called for him, his phone in her hand and an incoming call showed on the screen. he excused himself to pick up, and the first thing he heard was-

“I PASSED MATHS!” you shouted through the speaker, your tone so happy that he smiled involuntarily. “but i gotta go, four exams left, call you later, love you.” and before he even got to say i love you back, you hung up the phone.

“what was that, tsukishima-san?” sugawara asked, when the boy stepped into the gymnasium again. “something happened?” he inquired kindly, a worried expression on his face.

“no, no. my girlfriend passed an exam she studied hard for.” he shrugged, not noticing the reactions of his teammates upon hearing the word girlfriend. “shiratorizawa have exams mid-year?” yamaguchi, who seemed to be the only one that knew about kei’s relationship, frowned.

“it’s for the scholarships or something, school wanted to take the scholarship from her since she has shitty grades.” it was one of the first times others witnessed that kind of openness from him, but he could never shut up when it came to talking about you.

“your girlfriend’s a scholarship at shiratorizawa?” kageyama asked, his eyebrows knitted together as he tried to process the information he just received. “oikawa-san’s your girlfriend?”

“the ice-skater?” someone uttered. “the great king has a sister, and she’s your girlfriend? that’s so cool!” hinata exclaimed out of sudden. “you should invite her here sometimes.” someone chimed in.

“she barely has any time, she has a competition soon, so she rarely leaves the ice rink.” he spoke out, before daichi cut off the conversation, before they got back to the practice.

when you finally left the classroom after the last exam, you were on cloud nine, making your way towards the train stop to get to karasuno as soon as possible. you were too ecstatic about passing that you could have a day off training to surprise your boyfriend.

it was already afternoon, when you arrived at the location. the volleyball club was having another practice, so you headed to the gym, the direction showed by one of the students. you peaked your head out through the door, and grinned at tsukishima when he noticed you.

“i aced japanese lit!” you exclaimed quietly, feeling the eyes of his teammates on your back. “so i thought you’d maybe like to go eat something tasty with me after the practice?” you beamed.

“what if you went with me and the guys somewhere? then you could stay overnight, akiteru goes to sendai tomorrow morning, he can drop you off.” he suggested, tugging a stray of your hair behind your ear. you nodded, happily.

“sooo, we’re on the stage where i meet your friends?” you chuckled as he rolled his eyes.

“Fuck!”

Kei raised an eyebrow as he walked into your shared bedroom where you were standing in front of the mirror, turning back and forth in a dress.

“Well all you had to do was ask.” He smirked before taking in your tear-stricken face. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You stalked off to your closet, looking for another dress to try on, attempting not to sniffle. He cornered you at the door, blocking the exit with his arms.

“Nope, you gotta tell me now.” His tone was teasing but you knew he was serious.

“I just…forget it. You won’t understand, Kei. I mean look at you.”

Confused, he looked down at himself before turning back to you. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s just…we are going out to dinner with your friends tonight and you look fantastic and I look like…this. My clothes fit weird, my hair is being stupid, and I just…” your voice cracked and you attempted to blink back the tears you knew were coming.

“Hey, hey…what the hell are you talking about?” Kei wrapped his arms around you, spinning you to face the full length mirror that was the current bane of your existence. “Look at you. Now the snot, maybe we could work on doing something there, but the rest of you?”

You rolled your eyes at his attempt at humor, before wrapping your arms around yourself, attempting to avoid eye contact with the version of you that taunted you from the mirror. His grip around you tightened and he gently pulled your chin towards the mirror so you were face to face with yourself. Your eyes were reddened with tears and you blinked at the blurred image of the two of you.

When you compared the two of you, his tall and athletic build with your shorter, rounder figure, you felt unease wash over you. You could see your hip dips, the stretch marks that lined your thighs and peeked over the top of your bra. Your eyes met Kei’s in the mirror and you quickly looked down, focusing on the carpet of your bedroom.

“Y/N, why are you being difficult? What the hell is wrong with the way you look?”

“Kei, I don’t look like a fucking model like you do. I’m chubby, I have stretch marks everywhere and I’m not built like a person that should be with you.”

“Funny how you think you can tell me what I should be attracted to. And what the hell is wrong with your body?”

Long fingers caressed your soft tummy and slid around your waist. His voice was low as he pressed his mouth against your neck. “I happen to find your body so fucking sexy.”

Chills ran up your spine, Kei had a way of riling you up, teasing your body in the only ways he could. Your eyes fluttered closed and he stilled, until you opened them up, confused.

“Nope…you’re going to watch me show you how much I love this body of yours. And if you can’t get that into your pretty little head, I might just have to drill it into you another way.”

“Kei, we have to go to dinner.”

“Fuck dinner. I have a meal right here.”

As if to prove it, he tugged down the cups of your bra, exposing your bare flesh to the mirror.

“These fucking tits…god. Look at how perfect they fit in my hands.” He squeezed at your chest, running calloused thumbs over your sensitive nipples. His mouth moved lower, kissing down to your collarbone, leaving soft bites in his path. “God, you are so fucking tasty.” Each touch of his lips was warm against your skin, though it caused chills to run down your spine. His hands slid down your tummy and you instinctively sucked air in. He took this opportunity to bite down on your skin hard.

“Excuse me, that’s mine. Don’t you dare.” You exhaled, and his fingers dug into the soft flesh before teasing the waistband of your underwear. “Every inch of you is delectable and I’m going to explore every bit of it.”

Tugging down your panties, he pressed soft kisses down your hips, licking a small stripe down your tummy before cupping your mound, running his fingers down your slit.Breath hitching, you almost screamed when he slid his hand around to squeeze your thighs, leaving you wanting more of him.

“These fucking thighs? If I die crushed by them, it would be a fucking honor.”

“Kei–”

“Shut up.”

As if to prove his point, he pushed you down onto the bed. “Stay there.”

You stared at the ceiling, slightly confused but fully aroused. You heard movement and then, “Sit up.”

You sat up and saw he moved the mirror to be across from you. He kneeled down between your legs, his breath hot against the apex of your thighs.

“You’re gonna fucking watch me devour you, until you understand how fucking perfect you are, you understand?” Without waiting for a confirmation, he nibbled on your plush thighs, kissing and sucking marks into the skin, teasing your most sensitive areas with the ghosting of his lips. You took a peek at the mirror and saw the god that was your boyfriend worshiping on his knees at the temple that was your body. Scissoring your cunt open as he lapped at you, savoring every drop. Vision blurring at the pure ecstasy that was his tongue, you looked back at the mirror. The blonde was bobbing between your thighs, his slurps and groans like music to your ears as he whispered praises of “so fucking delicious” and “perfect” into you. You hadn’t realized you were moaning until you saw your mouth drop open when his tongue swirled into you. Back arched, fingers digging into his shoulders, the two of you were like a work of art.

And still he continued, slipping his fingers in to work in tandem with his tongue as you grinded against his face. The more you writhed, the more he gripped at your thighs holding you in place so tightly. You were sure without him, you would float into the heavens with how amazing he was making you feel. Too soon you felt yourself clench around him, your thighs squeezing around him as he continued his assault on your pussy.

“Cum for me baby, that’s it. Give it to me.” He whispered and with a shout you felt yourself lose control, drenching the blonde in your arousal. You had no time to comprehend anything before he slid up and behind you, pulling you onto his lap so you faced the mirror.

“You know, I think you need to see exactly what I see every day, Y/N.” He smirked before plunging himself deep inside your cunt, his hands firm on your hips. Rocking you up and down you threw your head back, before he yanked your hair, facing you forward.

“Watch me fuck you, doll. Watch yourself come undone.”

His hands were in a bruising grip, rocking you up and down on his cock as you watched your tits bounce with every thrust. His cock slammed inside you and your cunt gripped it tightly, leaving a ring of cream around it. You could hear the sound of skin against skin, his shaky breaths and your moans echoing in the room. Moving a hand from your hip, he gripped your neck forcing you to keep your eyes on the mirror.

“Look at how fucking perfect you are. God you are so fucking sexy.” His voice was labored and you could tell he was close. You weren’t far behind and you could barely register that the creature in the mirror was you. You looked wild, eyes half lidded and mouth wet with drool. Something about it was so raw and sensual, both your skin covered in sweat, your hair plastered to your face as his veins tightened in the grip around your neck and you saw what Kei must have seen. The look of pure sex and pleasure, love mixed with the animalistic freedom he gave you.

“Fuck you’re squeezing me so tighty, doll.”

“Kei, Kei, fuck!” Your voice was hoarse and your eyes fluttered as your cunt held his cock in a vice grip and you exploded around him. Stars filled the back of your eyes and you heard him grunt before he flooded you with his release. You could feel the throb of his cock pulsate inside you and he held you tightly as the two of you came down from your respective highs.

Sliding off him, you curled against him in the bed and pressed against his chest. You could hear his heart beating steadily and your eyes closed as he pressed a soft kiss to your sweat covered brow.

ITADORI YUUJI ➞ he catches you in his arms with absolutely no trouble, laughing lightly as he spins you around. he beams and presses a kiss on the tip of your nose, snuggling against your cheek. itadori doesn’t seem to notice that other people are staring—or he just doesn’t mind it. “hi baby, what’s up?” he asks, voice light. “nothing much, i just miss you a lot.” you mumble into the crook of your neck. he laughs, giving you a tight squeeze, “well you don’t have to miss anymore, i’m here!” he grins at you, eyes turning into little crescents as he props you up with one arm, using his other hand to rub soothing lines down your back, heart warm when he noticed that you seem to melt under his touch.

FUSHIGURO TOJI ➞ toji smirks as he sees you approaching, arms wide open to prepare for your jump. by the way he shows absolutely no signs of struggle, you’d think that you’re as heavy as a feather. his hands find their way on your ass, completely unapologetic and unashamed. giving them a firm squeeze, he wiggles his eyebrows, “looking good, gorgeous.” you glare at him, smacking his arm, but he pays it no mind. “can you put me down now?” you shake your head and sigh, biting back a smile. toji pretends to think before gripping your jaw, pulling you in for a kiss, pulling away quickly after. he smirks at your pout and the warmth in your cheeks, loving the effect he has on you. “you’re not going anywhere until i say so.”

a/n: coughs toji makes my brain go brrrrr im sorry KEHDKWNS

© HAJIMINE — do not repost, copy, or claim any of my works as your own. just don’t plagiarize it’s not that hard please.