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tsukishima who notices your glasses first when you two meet, perched high on your nose. he thinks he’s never seen someone pull off glasses so adorably before, or maybe that’s just because of your face. from then on, he’ll always take note of each movement you do with the frames—fingers pushing them up when they fall down, pulling strands of hair out when they get caught in the hinge, adjusting them when they’re askew. 

tsukishima who grabs a microfiber cloth to clean your glasses when he sees them get smudged with fingerprints. he’ll take his time—careful and slow, rubbing the stubborn prints out diligently so that you won’t notice any hint of a blur when you put them back on. always your glasses first, then his after.

tsukishima who gently massages the sore red marks on your nose when your glasses feel too heavy for your face. he’ll chastise you every time, telling you to pick lighter frames when you whine about getting a headache from them. he never brings it up when you’re glasses shopping though, because he loves giving you that temporary relief and seeing your face soften from his touch. 

tsukishima who thinks you look like such a sexy nerd when you gaze at him with lust-filled eyes, frames sitting low on your nose. he smirks, simply leaning back against the couch, watching your eyelashes bat at him from behind the clear glass. 

you straddle his lap, desire pumping through your veins at the way his half-lidded eyes look sensually at you behind his own pair of glasses. you grind slowly against him, wrapping your arms around his neck, body melting from the friction. all while tilting your head to the side in the way you know he loves, with strands of hair falling over your frames. 

“kei?” you whisper softly—seductively, “do you like what you see?”

tsukishima hums low in his throat, the sound going straight to your pussy. he places both hands on your waist, slipping underneath your shirt as he leans forward and kisses you deeply, pushing your body at an angle that would make you fall if he didn’t immediately brace your back. 

he’s licking and biting your lips, tongue roaming your mouth in between—wet smacking sounds is all you both hear.

grinding his hips up, he notches his aching cock perfectly in between your legs and against your clothed heat, feeling a puff of pride swell in his chest at your moans now adding to the lewd sounds filling the living room. 

you both break apart, lungs heaving. tsukishima rips his glasses off his face and throws them off to the side, not even caring that they bounce off the couch and onto the floor.

without missing a beat, he instantly grabs the back of your head and pulls you towards him, kissing you more roughly this time—muffling any worries about the forgotten frames. 

you try prying your own glasses off in the little space between you two. but he grabs both your wrists to pin them behind you, his voice raspy, “no, keep them on.” 

your body shudders as he licks up your neck, sucking on that sweet spot just under your ear, whispering darkly, 

“i want to see how my little nerd takes it while i fuck this pussy.”

It’s not “oh yeah he’s Superman, guess he’ll come around when he comes around.” It’s just so endearingly normal and human and parental. This is their little boy who drinks coco and saves squirrels and doesn’t want to kill a giant goblin creature because “there’s a gentler way”. A gentler way because he saw his gentler parents. A gentler way because he had a gentle upbringing. A gentler way because his parents are not heroes, they won’t be running around finding danger but if they see a injured squirrel or a bird with a broken wing, they take it in and help it heal.