012825. moon carved, love written on skin
tsukishima kei x reader . . . cw / tsukki has a back tattoo. fluff. not proofread and i am sleepy. i dreamt about this lmao. notes / when will i stop writing for this 6ft stickbug pls. (gn again im gonna eep)
tsukishima kei, years after high school, now in his mid-twenties. no longer the snot-nosed looking teenager that he once was, more taller, and softer and tender and so much more forgiving of himselfâ allowing his vulnerabilities to slip through quite easily with you.
then there's the tattoo, one he doesn't tell you about until now.
you only find out when the two of you are lounging at home one night, moonlight filtering through the curtains, bathing his skin in a dim-lit glow, low music humming in the background. he's lying facedown on the bed, his shirt discarded, and his glasses abandoned on the bedside table. he almost fooled you, making it seem like heâs sleeping, with slow breaths and closed eyes.
you see it clearly, the moon cycle inked onto his back.
âlove,â you murmur, your voice laced with curiosity, careful as to confirm if heâs actually out like a light or not, âwhen were you planning to tell me about this?â
he stiffens almost instinctively, your fingers trace the faint outlines of his shoulder blades, trying to ease him. he turns his head slightly, one eye peeling open, the corner of his mouth curves in faint amusement, as if he didnât anticipate getting caught in the first place. âwasnât planning to.â
your hands explore the tattooâthe phases of the moon, spanning the breadth of his back and etched in crisp black ink. each phase feels like a pulse of oneâs heartbeat youâve come to learn and memorize, mirroring the cycles of your lives together: waxing, waning, full, and new.
âwhy the moon?â you ask softly, running a fingertip along the crescent. youâd never have guessed that the man youâve come to love had anything as sentimental as this. feels like another layer of intimacy youâve set foot on, a secret unearthed by the only person heâs planned to reveal it, almost as if this occurrence was already predetermined by him.
he trusts you so much it hurts, in a good way.
he hums, burying his face into the pillow, muffling his voice. âitâs for you.â
âyeah. donât make me explain itâitâs embarrassing,â he grumbles, his ears tinged red. even more so when you chuckle whilst letting your hand caress his back.
but you canât stop smiling, âno, no, kei. you canât drop something like that and not explain.â
he groans into the pillow, but you donât miss the way his fingers twitch against the sheets, betraying his nerves. after a beat, he rolls over onto his side, propping his head up with one hand, the other resting on his stomach, he looks at you andâyour smile curls into a smirk, raising one eyebrow playfullyâand then he urges you to join him.
so you do. cuddling into him as he sigh in faux resignation and gently planting a kiss to your temple. the old habits from his teenage years die hard.
âitâs... stupid,â he starts, hesitating.
you interrupt, your voice gentle but insistent. âi want to know.â
he exhales, trying to steel himself, his gaze fixating somewhere over your shoulder. âitâs the phases of the moon. you know, waxing, waning... all that.â
âi can see it, thanks,â you tease lightly, earning yourself a flat look.
âlet me finish,â he mutters, his cheeks slightly pink. he fiddles with the hem of the blanket before continuing, quieter now. âitâs... because you remind me of the moon. youâre constantâalways thereâeven if iâm too blind or stupid to notice it sometimes. and even when things feel... off, like everythingâs dark, i know youâre still there, just waiting to come back.â
your chest tightens, his words sinking into you, pulls you in like gravity.
âyouâre always changing, too,â he adds, his voice steady but soft. âgrowing, shifting... but still you. and iââ he pauses, swallowing thickly before meeting your gaze again, his expression open and raw in a way the ache never buries itself, only stretched into a shelter inside you that is love. âi just wanted something permanent. something for me. to remind me of you, even when youâre not... here.â
you blink rapidly, trying to keep your emotions in check, but your voice wavers when you respond. â...thatâs not stupid at all.â
he scoffs lightly, looking away again, but thereâs a faint smile tugging at his lips. âa little, still.â
âitâs perfect,â you counter, sliding closer to press your forehead against his. âand youâre lucky you explained it, or i mightâve cried.â
âyouâre already crying,â he points out, brushing a thumb against your cheek, his voice teasing but tender.
he laughs quietly, you stare at the moon with warmth.
his thumb lingers on your cheek, tracing gentle circles, âyouâre ridiculous,â you say, though your voice carries no maliceâjust a kind of awe tinged in disbelief. âkeeping this to yourself for so longâŚâ
he shrugs one shoulder, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. âdidnât think it was worth mentioning.â
âyou have an entire tattoo on your backâdedicated to meâand you thought it wasnât worth mentioning?â
he opens his mouth to respond but falters, and for a second, you see the remnants of his old high school self, the boy who avoids vulnerability like it was a volleyball hurtling toward him. but he doesnât retreat now, he lets you see him in full view.
âitâs not that i didnât want to tell you,â he admits. âitâs just⌠i didnât know how. or when. and i guessâŚâ he trails off, his brows knitting together like heâs trying to piece together the right words. âi guess i wanted it to be... ours, you know? just ours. something no one else gets to know about.â
you cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, and he leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut.
âkei,â you murmur, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. âyouâre incredible, you know that?â
his eyes flutter open, half-lidded gaze as he blinks to your lips, âyouâre being dramatic.â
âno, iâm being honest,â pressing a kiss to his forehead as you continue, âyouâre incredible, and thisââ your hand moves to trace the outline of his tattoo again, arms stretched to reach his back, fingers light and reverent. âthis means the world to me.â
you hear the slight hitch of his breath. the way his arms tighten around you says more than words ever could. âiâm glad you like it,â he murmurs eventually, breathless.
âi love it. just like i love you.â
âgood,â he says, his voice teasing but soft. âbecause i donât plan on getting rid of it.â
âgood,â you echo, settling back against him, your head resting on his chest. you can feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, itâs telling you what you already know, but always search for a reminder: youâre home with him.
the two of you stay like that for a while, until kei speaks again,
âi guess this means youâre stuck with me now,â he says, his tone light but tinged with something deeper. he chuckles to himself, âi love you, too.â and heâs glad these words are already carved to his skin. his own museum heâs carved just for you.
Š SOLVISUN 2025. all rights reserved, do not repost/alter.