devilyn

[devilyn]

"This is the end, then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"...fuck off, Kei."

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

"Wait, baby--"

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

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

[devilyn]

chris!!! i've been following you for a long while now but i'm not sure if i've ever shot you a message! just wanted to let you know that you're one of my fave tsukki writers out there, and that today, then tomorrow holds a very special place in my heart :,( i reread it every now and then.

anyway, i hope you are doing well! <3 what have you been up to these days?

awww hello hello !! this is so sweet, thank u 🩷 i haven't written long fics in a while, so ty for still continuing to read my stuff even though it's in a shorter format now 🥹 "today, then tomorrow" is one of my faves, written when I was at my peak self indulgent writer era LMAO

i'm doing alright though!! my life is filled with work and hanging out with friends which keeps me very busy. crazy to think that i started this blog in college and now i've been adulting for a couple years now...i'm old....

[devilyn]

There’s something beautiful about Tsukishima Kei that can't necessarily be described with words.

It’s more of a feeling, than anything. It’s the way your heart races when you listen to his effortless laughter. It’s the butterflies in the stomach at the way he wears his smirk like it’s only natural he looks that good. It’s the warmth when you’re watching the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

But beauty is meant to be admired, appreciated, not defiled. So you learned to revel in his beauty from a safe distance. 

You watched him laugh at their playful joke. You watched him smirk and ruffle their hair. You watched him smile that beautiful smile of his, with a look in his eyes filled with so much love and adoration as he looked down at them.

You watched Tsukishima Kei fall in love with another, and you fell in love with him in the process.

[devilyn]

some of you alrdy know but yes my latest tsukki drabble is indeed based off that one clip that was circulating around twitter a while back of a very drunk guy looking up off camera at someone holding his chin up while drinking

for the life of me i can't find the clip again but every once in a while i am reminded of it and i thought about soft obedient tsukki and i--

[devilyn]

Tsukishima Kei never drank because he was a lightweight. Usually, when his teammates wanted to celebrate a win, he would nurse a bottle of beer for hours to make sure he didn't come home to you a complete mess.

But today was his birthday and Yamaguchi planned a whole night out at the bar with his old teammates from high school, so they all insisted he had to drink.

Which was how you ended up here, Tsukishima's head lolled backwards against the back of the booth while you ran to the bar to get another glass of water.

"You know he's a lightweight," you cursed at Yamaguchi who grinned innocently while ordering another drink.

The bartender slid over the glass of water, and you hurried back over to your boyfriend who might as well be asleep at this point.

"Kei," you called his name gently over the loud music, and Tsukishima lifted his head up in response, eyes still closed and glasses sitting at the table in front of him. His cheeks were flushed a bright red and he took his hoodie off earlier while whining about the heat from the alcohol, so he was only wearing a loose tshirt.

"Drink this," you held the glass of water out for him, but his hand lifted up like a weak weed in the wind.

He was not going to be able to hold that full glass of water himself.

Without thinking, you tucked your free hand under his chin and tilted it up towards you. His body was limp and pliant from the alcohol, so there was barely any resistance from him. His eyes finally fluttered open, half lidded and staring up at you. You guided the glass to his lips, holding his chin in place to make sure he didn't fall over.

Your boyfriend drank the water in slow gulps, his hazel eyes locked with yours the entire time. Your heart began to race faster in your chest, unable to tear your gaze away from Tsukishima's half lidded eyes, unobscured by his usual glasses. Time seemed to slow down, and the loud music faded into the background.

Eventually, he managed to finish the entire glass, and you gently pat his cheek. He leaned into your touch for a brief second, before his head returned to its original position laying against the back of the booth.

You're left standing in front of him, heart racing, with his friends cackling drunkenly around you.

You never really considered how tantalizing an obedient Tsukishima Kei could be.

[devilyn]

Do you write angst for any other haikyu characters??

as in other than tsukki? lol yes but usually depends on my mood and whoever inspires me the most, which is tsukki 90% of the time

[devilyn]

take advantage of me | tsukishima kei

— synopsis: tsukishima kei can't help that he enjoys reaping the benefits of your recent break up. he'll be whatever you need him to be, as long as it means he can pretend to be yours.

— genre: angst, hurt/comfort(?), pining tsukki, slightly emotionally stunted y/n, written from tsukki's pov, lots of emotions and tsukki being in his head

— word count: 2.9k

When he opened his front door, you were already crying.

Instinctively, he opened his arms for you and you dove straight into them with no hesitation. His palms gently ran over your back as you bawled against him, wet tears staining his shirt.

“I-I--I really--”

You could barely even get two words out before another sob ripped its way from your throat.

“It's alright.”

And it truly was. It was alright that you came to his apartment in the middle of the night. It was alright that this was the third time this week you’ve done this even though it was only Thursday. It was better that you were heartbroken. That way, Tsukishima had an excuse and the guilt of taking advantage of your vulnerability ate away at him less. Because you were using him too.

The two of you had this routine ever since your last relationship ended a little over a month ago. You'd run to him when you couldn't handle crying alone anymore, and he'd welcome you into his home and his space with open arms. He spent long nights holding you while you sobbed into his chest, his arms around your shaking form as if he could protect you from the feeling of heartbreak.

Maybe he didn't warn you enough back then. Maybe he should have insisted you listen to his advice more. Maybe he failed to protect you before you got your heart broken, so the least he could do was offer a distraction. 

Which is why you melted into him the first time he kissed you. Your sobs ceased, and you indulged in the feeling of his slender fingers gliding across your skin as he tried to soothe you in a way he couldn't through words. Each kiss and each lingering touch made your loneliness fade away. At least for the night.

He was more than happy to offer another kiss, another hug, and another night in his bed if it meant you would feel better. Even if it was just for a night.

“You'll be alright,” he whispered gently to soothe you. But your tears wouldn't stop. In fact, you could probably barely even register his words over your choked sobs. Your last relationship shattered your heart, and he was suddenly given the responsibility to pick up the pieces. 

His generosity had less to do with the fact that he was your ‘friend’, and more to do with the fact that he had been suppressing his feelings for you for years now. Now, he could finally let himself understand what it would be like to be yours.

Deep down in his heart, he knew you were far from emotionally ready to think about love again. Not when you were so freshly heartbroken. But he was addicted to the way you clung to him like he was your lifeline, keeping you grounded on earth. 

Tsukishima Kei couldn't help but enjoy the benefits that came with being your rebound. 

By the time your sobs quieted down, the two of you were laying on his couch together. Your face was still buried in his chest, and he had turned on the TV to make you feel less awkward about the sound of your bawling. Your breathing had evened out, but his palm was still resting on the small of your back.

“...sorry,” you whispered, finally lifting your face up.

His gaze dropped down to your expression. Your eyes and cheeks were red from your tears, swollen from crying for what must've felt like an hour. His right hand came up to hold your cheek, and you closed your eyes before leaning into his cool palm. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, where you had desperately bit down over and over again to try and stop your crying. He leaned forward, lips brushing over your forehead, your swollen eyelids, your red cheeks, before he finally kissed you.

Your lips tasted like salt, a sign of your sorrowful sobs earlier.

It was a familiar taste. He associated your kisses with tear stained pillow cases, when he’d lay next to you and admire the glow of the moonlight on your skin while you were fast asleep. You fit so perfectly on the right side of his bed, tucked under his arm.

When he pulled back, your eyes were still closed, and you leaned forward slightly as if to ask for more. The sight made his heart swell, and he couldn’t help but smile.

He quickly schooled his expression when your eyes opened again. He shouldn’t be visibly happy. Not while you were wearing that watery smile.

“...you’re too sweet for me, Kei,” you whispered, your fingers absentmindedly toying with a loose thread on his tshirt.

“Most people wouldn’t say that about me,” he shrugged, and you managed a short laugh. 

A small win for him.

“I’m not most people,” you shifted to lay your head against him, your ear pressed against the left side of his chest to listen to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. “I like you.”

“What’re you trying to say?” he raised a brow, looking down at the top of your head.

“Most people find you unlikable.”

You sounded amused.

And while he usually would have resorted to sarcasm, or an insulting quip, he decided to try a different tactic instead.

“Good thing I only care if you find me likable.”

Honesty. Vulnerability.

He knew you heard the way his heart started to beat faster against his ribcage. He listened to the loud silence for one second. Two. Three. So on, and so on.

“Aren’t I lucky?” you finally responded, voice shaky.

A vague answer. One he expected.

And as you leaned up to capture his lips with your own, he realized how predictable the two of you were.

Every night was the same. You would come running into his arms, tears in your eyes. He would let you in each time, and he’d get one step closer to confessing his feelings to you. Yet, with each step forward he took, you took two steps back. Just close enough to keep him nearby, but not close enough to be able to call you his.

You just saw him as a warm body to hold you on your loneliest nights. And he saw that as an opportunity to experience a horrible mimicry of your love.

“You’re being used,” Yamaguchi tried to lecture him for what felt like the umpteenth time, “Don’t you get it?”

He knew you were using him. He knew that while he was yours, you were certainly not his. You let him hold you, kiss you, touch you, but you never let him in any further than that. You set a boundary, and while he toed the line, everytime he got even a centimeter too far, you pushed him back over to the other side. 

You never let him forget his place.

“I don’t really care,” Tsukishima grumbled into the phone, taking another sip from his coffee.

And it was the truth. He didn’t mind being used by you. Because he was using you too, to indulge in an impossible fantasy. Maybe you’d never reciprocate the feelings he had for you. You’d never adore him the way he adored you, your bed head, your eyes bleary from sleep, your arms wrapped around his waist and your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“I gotta go,” he grunted, and hung up the phone before his best friend could start another lecture.

His hand came down to rest on the top of your head, and he felt you relax against him.

“Tadashi?” you asked in a murmur, voice hoarse from your excessive crying last night. He hummed as an affirmation, gaze soft as you clung to him.

You were more vulnerable in the morning than you were at night. At night, you guarded yourself behind your tears and your half-mended heart. All those things would fade away when the sun came up, and he could watch the way the warmth of the dawn splayed across your cheeks when he pulled his bedroom curtains back. You’d roll over in his bed to try and hide from the morning sun, dressed in his pajamas, bundled up in his blankets.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding your cheeks so he could gently kiss your forehead. There was a carefree smile on your lips, and he made an effort to etch this scene into his memory--the two of you standing in his kitchen, his hips against the counter, half your weight leaning against him, your arms around his waist while you gazed up at him with that beautiful, sleepy smile of yours.

These were the moments. The small moments that made him so grateful you chose him to be your rebound.

“I made you tea,” he murmured, motioning to the mug on the counter beside you. You hummed quietly to indicate that you heard him, but you didn’t let go.

He could practically see the gears in your head turning, trying to turn your thoughts into words. He waited patiently, hands moving back to rest against the counter behind him. He leaned back, tilting his head down to watch you.

“Why do you let me in every night?”

A good question to start with, he thought. You lifted your head up to meet his eyes, and Tsukishima reached up to gently poke your forehead.

“You know why,” he mumbled quietly.

“I can guess, but I don’t know unless you tell me, Kei.”

He frowned, and you mirrored his expression. How cruel of you. He knew that you knew why. That was why you rejected his advances each time he tried to break down your walls.

“Don’t act stupid,” he rolled his eyes, ignoring the throbbing in his chest as you physically recoiled. “What’s the point in spelling it out for you? You’re the one not ready to hear it.”

“So what? That never stopped you from pushing for it before,” you pulled your arms away from his waist and took a step back. “Since when did you care if I was ready or not?”

“And since when did you care how I felt?” he snapped before he could even think his words through.

The silence that filled the space between the two of you was louder than your short argument. Tsukishima sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, shoulders slumped.

“Y/N--”

“Tadashi was right,” your fingers tugged at the edges of the tshirt you were wearing--one of his favorites. “And you’re right too. I’m using you, and I didn’t want to think about how you felt.”

He hoped the hurt he felt didn’t show on his face.

“I can’t do this to you anymore,” your voice shook. You turned on your heel, hurrying out of his kitchen and retreating to his bedroom.

Tsukishima remained rooted in his spot by the kitchen counter, listening as you grabbed your things and slammed the front door shut behind you.

He peered into his living room, where the pajamas he leant you were laying in a pile on his couch. He looked back to his side, where the tea he made for you was cooling with each second that passed. He ran his hands over his face, pushing his glasses up and groaning loudly.

Where did it all go wrong? He thought he was satisfied with being your rebound, but he kept pushing for more. His kisses lingered for a little too long, and his gaze was filled with a little too much affection. He should’ve just settled for what you were willing to give, rather than giving into his greedy desires.

And so here he was, still waiting for you two weeks later. The consequences of his actions.

You hadn’t visited his place since your little argument. Despite that, your toothbrush was still sitting next to his in the bathroom, along with the towel you insisted was your favorite amongst his spares. He even washed the pajamas you borrowed from him, and left them folded on his couch, just in case.

He couldn’t help but laugh one night, when he was looking at your social media to see what you were up to. 

What a simp. He used to make fun of guys like this. He never imagined he’d end up becoming one of them. You snuck your way into his heart with your bright laughter, your ability to put up with his teasing and fire back with your own jabs, and your willingness to help walk him through his emotions. When you broke up with your ex, he had to hide the happiness that overcame him and pretend to be a concerned ‘friend’.

Maybe this was his karma for being happy when you were miserable.

You may not have visited over the past two weeks, but you still sent him silly memes and videos that reminded you of him. You pretended like your argument hadn’t happened at all, and he decided to play along. He’d respond as if he wasn’t hopelessly head over heels for you, as if he didn’t miss the way you’d smile against his lips when he kissed you.

You reverted your friendship to what it was like before your heartbreak. When Tsukishima had to hide his feelings for your sake.

The sudden knocking at his front door startled him. He jolted up, hurrying over and peering out of the peep hole to see who his surprise visitor was. His heart jumped in his chest, and he ripped the front door open with wide eyes.

You stood in front of him with a sheepish expression, fingers anxiously twisting together in front of your lap.

“...can I come in?”

He stepped aside for you silently, and closed the door behind you once you stepped inside. He watched how your gaze fell on the pajamas sitting on the corner of his couch, and how your brows furrowed at the sight.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

You shook your head, but he started to make his way towards the kitchen nonetheless. He needed to do something to keep himself busy while you were here. He wasn’t used to this awkward atmosphere between the two of you.

“It’s really fine, Kei,” you grabbed his hand before he could move any further, and he was sure you could feel the way he stiffened at your touch, because you let go almost immediately after.

He nodded and turned to face you instead. You remained standing by his front door, as if you were fighting the urge to run away again. He wanted to reach out and grab your hand again to stop you, but he knew it would just have the opposite effect.

“Did you want to sit, then?” he asked quietly, and your shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Yeah,” you murmured, shuffling over to his couch.

You sat down on the side the furthest from him, and he almost found the sight amusing. Just two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have been able to pry you off of him. Now you were doing everything in your power to be as far away from him as possible.

“I really just wanted to say sorry,” you started, shifting to sit sideways on the couch so you could face him, “I…didn’t mean for our last conversation to end that way.”

He remained quiet, watching the way you anxiously tugged at a loose thread on your pants.

“I just felt guilty,” your gaze was stuck to your lap, unable to meet his eyes, “you were right that I knew your feelings for me, but I still used you to try and get over my ex. I never should’ve taken advantage of you--”

“I didn’t care,” he interrupted you with a frown, “You never let me say how I felt about things.”

“It doesn’t matter, Kei,” you sighed, finally looking up at him, “You should care.”

“Why don’t my feelings matter?” He got up quickly, and your eyes widened as he plopped down next to you.

“Hey--”

“You’ve been insisting on how I feel this entire time,” he grabbed your waist, tugging you into his lap despite your weak resistance, “But what do you know? I used you too. You clearly weren’t over your ex, and I still kissed you. Because I wanted to.”

Your palms gently cupped his cheeks, and he leaned into your touch.

“You’re stupid.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Like attracts like.”

You laughed, and he didn’t hide the way it made the corner of his lips curl upwards. The sight of his rare smile softened your expression, and you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his.

“And you still want to kiss me?” you mused. He pinched your side, drawing a sharp yelp from you.

“Don’t push your luck,” he huffed, eyes narrowed at you.

He nearly forgot how much he missed the sound of your giggling.

“I like you.”

His heart skipped a beat.

“A lot,” you continued, nose brushing against his own, “But I’m not ready yet. Are you really fine being my rebound until then?”

He leaned forward to kiss you, and he felt you melt against him.

“Yeah, I’ll wait for you,” he whispered into your kiss, and he savored the way you smiled against his lips.

He could wait. Because Tsukishima Kei loved you.

And three months down the line, while you’re nursing a cup of tea in your lap with the glow of the morning sunlight on your skin, he’d finally be able to tell you. And you’d finally be his, just like how he’s always been yours.

[devilyn]

It was the small things Kuroo Tetsurou did for you.

Sometimes, he would wait for your ubers with you when the both of you had one too many drinks with your friends. Once said uber arrived, he'd casually open the door for you as if it were natural and ask you to text him once you got home.

Other times, he would lean over and ask if you were still having a good time when you got particularly quiet even when everyone else was still just as rambunctious as usual.

But he never crossed a line. He never really touched you unless it was a friendly greeting or goodbye hug. And he never once showed you more or less attention than anyone else in your mutual friend group.

So you shoved this little crush down to the deepest recesses of your heart and suppressed it each time it desperately tried to crawl it's way back up.

And everytime Kuroo showed you even the smallest sign of affection or consideration, you protected your heart by constantly telling yourself you were delusional, and risking a good friendship for these feelings would just be pointless.

So how did you end up here? Drunk crying in front of him after the rest of your friends have already left the bar?

"I like him a lot," you slurred your words. Kuroo sat next to you, his cheek rested against his palm with his elbow propped up against the bar. If you weren't so inebriated, you'd notice how painfully sober he looked.

"Oh really?"

He sounded amused, cat like eyes observing you. You had your face buried in your hands, your practically fully hunched over the bar.

"Mmm...but I really can't tell if I mean anything to him," you groaned into your palms before resting them flat against the bar. Your head lolled back as you leaned backwards, closing your eyes.

Kuroo's arm extended out quickly to stretch across your lower back, catching you before you fell off your barstool. You leaned against his arm, allowing him to hold your weight, and giggled quietly.

"Hey--"

"Do you think I should tell him?"

You turned to him, hand coming up to rest boldly on his knee--more in an attempt to steady yourself rather than to flirt. Your eyes were half lidded, wet tears stuck to your lashes. He resisted the urge to grab a napkin to wipe them away.

"I think--"

"No," you placed your index finger over his lips before he could speak any further, but you barely registered the shock on his face and the pink warming his cheeks. "You're right, I should just keep it to myself."

He swatted your hand away despite your whine.

"I think you should just tell him tomorrow. If you're crying this much over it now, it's clearly weighing on you. Might as well rip the bandaid off."

"Stop being sensible," you grumbled, eyes practically closed at this point. "You're always sensible."

"If I was as sensible as you say, I would've made you leave with everyone else," he mused.

"Oh, so I'm special to you?" you giggled and reached forward to cup his cheeks. Kuroo's eyes widened, lips parting to speak, but you cut him off before he could say anything in protest. "Then, lemme say this..."

Your thumbs brushed over his warm cheeks, and your lips curved up into a dopey, drunk grin.

"I like you, Tetsurou."

There was a beat of silence as his dark eyes scanned over your expression. Your half lidded eyes, cheeks red from your tears earlier, your swollen lips pulled up into that silly grin.

"...I know," he whispered, fingers reaching up to rest over your own, still holding his face. "Can you tell me again when you're sober?"

"No," you pulled your hands away so you could wag your index finger in his face. The motion made him lean back in his stool just slightly. "I don't wanna, m'gonna forget about all this anyway--"

Kuroo took your hand into his own, gently brushing his lips over your knuckles. The movement was small and filled with affection. If you had drank any less than what you did, it may have sobered you up instantly.

"I'll call you tomorrow morning, and you're going to tell me again. I won't let you forget."

His fingers laced with your own, and you hummed quietly, as if contemplating the idea.

"...m'kay."

You'd definitely have more than just the hangover to regret in the morning.

[devilyn]

drabbles.

last updated: nov. 16th, 2024.

[all characters are aged up to be 18+, and reader is gender neutral unless stated otherwise]

full fics masterlist here

a = angst f = fluff

✧ tsukishima kei ✧

"i swear if you say another word, i'll leave" (a)

"apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together" (f)

"we're not friends and you fucking know it" (a)

"i fucking love you" "hang up and tell me this when you're sober" (a/f)

“i wanted to say “i love you” for the first time without stuttering, but that failed.” (a/f)

"i went on a date today" (a/f)

standing alone at a bar is the worst feeling (f)

tsukishima kei is your sun (f)

the feeling of heartbreak is hard to put into words (a)

tsukishima kei never drank because he was a lightweight (f)

there’s something beautiful about tsukishima kei that can't necessarily be described with words (a)

✧ kuroo tetsurou ✧

it was the small things kuroo tetsurou did for you (f)

✧ kageyama tobio ✧

"if i asked you to stay, would you?" (a/f)

✧ sakusa kiyoomi ✧

“i would give up everything for the chance to see your laugh again.” (a/f)

✧ oikawa tooru ✧

“did you at least think of me, when you were having sex with them?” (a)

✧ suna rintarou ✧

“i don't know how to live in a world without you” (a/f)

[devilyn]

I'm in LOVE with your tsukki fics, the way you do angst is so prominent and so ominous. I love love your writing style! Cant wait for more fics pf yours. Just went through the whole masterlist <3

thank u cutie!!! i'm so rusty with writing, i'm trying to get back into the groove of things but i'm glad ppl still like reading my works 🤍

[devilyn]

ive found that drabbles work better for me nowadays....ive been having a hard time drawing enough inspo for a long fic

lmk if u guys have a preference tbh, ive just been putting out whatever comes to my brain lol

[devilyn]

“I went on a date today.”

There was quiet shuffling on the other line.

“...why’re you telling me?”

You weren't too sure why. Maybe it was because the man that you went on a date with made you feel small, or maybe it was the way he only cared to get to know you on a vague surface level.

Or maybe it was because when you left the date, you couldn't help but remember the way Tsukishima Kei made you feel when he still loved you.

You decided to settle on, “I don't know.”

And your ex boyfriend practically laughed on the other side of the phone.

“You broke up with me,” his tone is harsh, like he’s purposely trying to hurt you. “You can't just call me whenever you want.”

“Then why did you pick up?”

More silence. The two of you sat in it. The only sound you could hear was the muffled noise of his TV in the background, left in the apartment the two of you used to share before you packed your things and left him.

Left the memories of the two of you behind in a place you used to call home because you couldn't take it anymore.

“You know why.”

He sounded more vulnerable now, the lightest inflection in his voice.

He never did want the breakup. You insisted on it. You thought he would've blocked your number, but seems like the two of you were still on the same page despite all that happened between you.

“Do you love me?” you asked him, a hint of desperation in your question.

“You can't ask me that now.”

“But I love you.”

You blurted it out before you could regret it. Your voice shook, free hand coming up to your face to scrub at it to try and hide the tears dripping down your cheeks.

“I still love you. But I needed to leave you,” you started to ramble, not waiting for his response. “These past six months I thought I was finally doing fine without you. I could smile again, I found myself again, Kei. I learned what type of person I could be without you--”

“So what changed?” He snapped. “Why did you call me in the middle of the night? To brag that you're doing so much better than me?”

The hurt in his voice was palpable, and your heart throbbed in your chest.

“No,” you whispered, “Because I remembered that we used to be happy.”

You heard him inhale sharply as you wiped your tears.

You used to be happy. Tsukishima Kei used to make you happy.

“...I ruined it, though.”

You could picture him on the other side of the line. He was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, trying to suppress whatever emotions were coming up. Because Tsukishima hated emotions, and hated dealing with them.

“You did,” you agreed with him with a watery smile, “We both did.”

“I'm sorry.”

If he had said that seven months ago, you would've celebrated. An apology from Tsukishima is like an award.

But as much as you wanted to, as much as the thought of being with someone other than him terrified you, you weren't ready to let him back in.

Your silence was too much for him, so he shakily whispered, “I miss you."

You put him out of his misery with a quiet, “I know.”

You remembered his laughter when he'd tease you and you'd pout. You remembered how his eyes sparkled when looking at you. How his kisses felt like bright sunshine on a winter afternoon.

“What can I do?” He practically pleaded, at the end of his rope.

You remembered screaming, crying, pictures ripped up and broken photo frames. You remembered the anger in his eyes, blazing and unrecognizable. How each of his words and insults tightened the vice around your glass heart, until it shattered to pieces at your feet.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do, and you broke his heart too.

And just as you thought you were ready to move on from him, memories of him came crashing back like a tidal wave.

“I don't know, Kei,” your free hand covered your eyes, swollen from tears. The aching of your heart was almost too much to bear.

“Let me make it up to you,” he spoke quickly, feeling you slipping away from him again. “Delete his number. Let me back in. I'll be better.”

His offer was tempting. In an ideal world, Tsukishima wouldn't break your heart again.

Was it okay to hope for ideals? Was it foolish of you to take him back, and give into the hope that things would be different this time?

“Please, baby.”

He was genuinely pleading now, and you muffled a sob behind your palm. Your prideful ex boyfriend who never apologized and never begged you for anything was begging for the right to care for your broken heart.

“...okay.”

So you gave into him, and handed him the pieces of your heart to put back together again.

[devilyn]

you defined love for me | tsukishima kei

— now playing: better off without me by matt hansen

I guess love isn't what I thought We were blinded by the hope we got We were slow dancing in the dark Do you remember, remember?

— synopsis: tsukishima kei taught you what it meant to love and be loved — genre: angst, toxic tsukki, mostly feelings and thoughts not much action..... — word count: 1.2k

"Do you understand what it's like to love you?"

Tsukishima Kei was never easy to love. He fought love every step of the way, whether it be with the walls he constantly put back up after you tore them down, or with his snarky remarks insulting things you never knew you could be insecure about.

But you loved him regardless.

Admittedly, you didn't know love before you met Tsukishima. Your idea of romantic love and relationships was all built on the four years you've spent with him. It was good in some ways. You learned you were beautiful, even when you felt your ugliest. You learned that love doesn't need to be communicated through words, but could be conveyed through his actions. And love could be gentle, comfortable, quiet.

But you also learned that you'd never be good enough. You learned you were too much, too clingy, too demanding of his time and attention. Love could be harsh, gut wrenching, painful.

Love is your laughter in the morning while his arms are around your waist and he's burying his face in your chest, not wanting to let go or get up. 

Love is the way he snaps at you that night for leaving crumbs on the coffee table, and the way it makes you shrink into yourself.

"You make it hard to love you, Kei."

How could you put your love for him into words? There weren't enough words in the world to properly convey the way he made you feel.

The way he'd make you smile and laugh. The way he'd make you tear up and cry when he wasn't looking.

Was it worth it falling in love with him? Was it worth him slowly chipping away at your self worth, bit by bit, until you became someone else entirely? Someone totally unrecognizable?

The dishes in the sink still weren't washed. The laundry was sitting in the dryer unfolded. The bathroom sink was cluttered with your skincare.

You had all these things you needed to do before Tsukishima came home and you could barely muster up the energy to breathe in and out while laying curled up in bed.

Your thoughts flickered between needing to get up to clean the apartment because your boyfriend might throw a fit if he came home to a mess, and wishing that same boyfriend was here to hold you and reassure you that things would be alright. 

Sometimes, it felt like you loved two versions of Tsukishima Kei. One loved everything about you, and made sure to show you that every single day. The other picked at every one of your flaws until holes started to form in your heart. 

You never knew which Tsukki you'd get.

The front door clicked open, and you heard shuffling as Tsukishima took off his shoes and tossed his bag to the side. You braced yourself, shoulders tense and practically pressed up to your ears as you pulled the covers over your head, as if doing so would help you hide from the love of your life.

Which Tsukki were you getting today?

You heard a quiet curse and the sound of his steps coming closer and closer to the bedroom. You've been with him for so long, you could practically hear the frustration in his gait. 

Today, he was the Tsukishima that would jab at your flaws.

"Everyday is a losing battle, and it feels like I'm losing a piece of me each time."

It hit him like a freight truck. His small frustrations piled up inside of him, and cracks were forming in his stoic facade. 

Each crack that formed in his tough outer shell, he'd attempt to patch up by lashing out on you. As if pouring the poison inside of him onto you would free the burden from his shoulders and cover up the holes he so desperately wanted to hide.

One quip about the dirty dishes in the sink. Another sharp remark on the laundry left in the dryer. And then a complaint about your skincare scattered across the bathroom sink. 

Finally, a long drawn out lecture about how all you do is lay in bed all day when you should've been making yourself useful.

Each word he spit at you added more weight on your heart. Before he realized what he was doing to you, you had collapsed under the weight. 

He stood three steps in front of you, your head buried in your hands as you sat at the foot of the bed.

"I'm tired of feeling this way," you had whispered between tears. "I'm tired of loving you."

The fractures in his shell grew larger, deeper, reaching into the crevices of his inner self. He could feel the coldness seep into his bones as you cried, each tear acting like a small hammer, tapping tapping tapping at his fragile shell.

An apology sat lodged in his throat, as it always did whenever he saw your tired eyes and forced smiles.

What an idiot. He ignored the signs on purpose. He subconsciously went out of his way to avoid looking you in the eye when he reprimanded you. He wanted to hurt you the way he was hurting, but he wasn't even brave enough to watch the damage he had done.

And so you left him.

You left him standing in that same spot, three steps in front of the foot of the bed, while you shoved whatever you could fit in a carry on. His gaze remained fixed on the ground as he listened to your quiet sniffles, the sound of the suitcase being zipped shut, and the soft click of the front door as it closed behind you.

Even as you walked out of his life, he couldn't gather the courage to watch you go--witness the damage he had done to you first hand. 

Tsukishima Kei was a coward.

"Thank you for showing me what love is."

What made you fall for him in the first place? He was crass, rude, dishonest about his feelings, and never the affectionate type. He didn't deserve love.

But you gave it to him regardless. You insisted he was worthy of love. You proved it to him through the way you’d hold his head to your chest when his body and mind were too worn out to speak. You proved it to him through the little sticky notes you’d leave on the fridge to encourage him to have a good day. You proved it to him when you’d press a kiss to his forehead before you left for work in the morning even while he laid half asleep in bed.

Sitting on the couch, he could almost imagine you there next to him, your knee barely touching his own under the throw blanket. He’d turn his head to try and catch your gaze, and you’d look over at him with a smile.

He shifted over to lean closer to you, and the smile on your face morphed into the teary, tired one you wore as you left him. He remembered that he was the one who tossed your love aside, and the illusion of you faded before his eyes, leaving him alone with his regrets.

He taught you that love was fickle and conditional.

“I’m glad I loved you, Kei.”

Fell so deep we couldn't see Maybe we were never meant to be One day I'll just be a memory and you'll be better Better off without me

[devilyn]

I just binge read all you tsukishima writing and oh my goshhhh everything is written soooo beautifully the fluff the angst you’re good at writing everything about his character!!!! I just wanted to let you know that!! You’re a really talented writer and I love all your worksss 💛💛💛

omg thank u!! being told I write tsukki well is the biggest compliment to me 🥹

[devilyn]

stay by my side | tsukishima kei

— now playing: die with a smile by bruno mars & lady gaga

If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you If the party was over And our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while And die with a smile

— synopsis: getting tsukishima kei to say 'I love you' more often is harder than you'd think

— genre: only a tinge of hurt, more comfort, needy tsukki

— word count: 1k

The first thing he sees every morning is you. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes for the night is always you.

No matter what may be happening between the two of you, the reassurance of knowing you'd be there in the morning and at the end of the day always calmed his tumultuous heart. 

So when he opens his eyes in the middle of the night and you're not there, he jolts up in a panic.

His hand quickly skims across your side of the bed, briefly wondering if he may be delirious in his half-asleep state. When he notices the sheets are still warm, he grabs his glasses and slips out of bed in a hurry.

The kitchen, the bathroom, and the living room are empty. When he finally stops to catch his breath, he notices your keys aren't hanging by the front door, an indication that you've left the apartment.

The realization makes his heart stop.

He should've apologized earlier. He should've known you'd get sick of him. You were always so patient with him, letting him keep you at arm's length for the first year of your relationship while he got used to skinship and physical affection. You even dealt with his mood swings, and communicated openly with him as much as possible so he could understand your perspective when the two of you fought.

And yet, he reversed all that progress last night when he ignored your feelings.

How can he expect you to read between the lines all the time? He had previously promised you he wouldn't treat you like that again, and yet he took advantage of your endless patience and did it again.

“Kei?”

His head turns quickly, wide eyes meeting your surprised gaze. You're standing against the front of your apartment building in your pajamas. He's certain he looks even more disheveled, having just rolled out of bed in a panic.

“What're you doing out of bed?” He asks quickly, stepping over to stand in front of you.

Your gaze softens, and his uneasy heart finally finds a moment to relax at the sight of you right in front of him.

“Just needed some fresh air, couldn't sleep,” you say softly. There's a moment of silence between the two of you before you reach up and gently brush your fingers over his jaw.

He can't help but close his eyes and relax into your touch. He let's himself indulge in the moment further, his own hand resting on top of your own to keep your palm against his cheek. 

“I don't want to.”

“Kei, please,” you pleaded, “I just want an ‘I love you' every once in a while. I'm not asking you to profess your love to me everyday.”

“I don't think it's needed. You know I do, why do I need to say it too?” He grumbled, setting his glasses down on the bedside table. 

“Hearing you say it and convincing myself that your actions mean something are two different things,” you retorted, and you frowned at the way he rolled his eyes.

The two of you have been arguing over the same thing ever since you brought it up at the dinner table just a couple of hours ago.

“Don't be stupid,” he finally snapped, and he ignored the hurt that flashed through your eyes. “Just go to bed. I'm sick of having this talk with you.”

He turned his back towards you, but he still heard your shaky ‘okay, goodnight’.

“What're you doing out here?” you repeat his question, tilting your head curiously. 

He hesitates to answer, eyes still closed as if doing so could buy him more time.

He's sure you saw the panic in his eyes when he heard you call his name. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure why he panicked so much. The thought of you not next to him sent a coldness down his spine that he just couldn't live with. 

“...came to find you,” he finally answers, amber eyes opening to meet your gaze.

The hand on his cheek slides up to gently run through his tousled blonde bed head.

“I'm not going anywhere,” you whisper softly.

His heart skips a beat, and he can't help it anymore. His arms reach out to wrap around your waist, tugging you close so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck.

You saw right through him, reading him like a book.

“I thought you left me,” he admits, voice shaking. One of your hands rests gently on the back of his head, the other lightly running up and down his broad back.

“Where would I go?” you try to joke, “my home is right here with you, Kei.” 

You squashed his insecurities almost instantly with just a couple of words. Your ability to ease all his worries so seemingly easily always amazed him. 

“I love you,” he confesses suddenly, and he feels the way your frame shakes as you laugh quietly. 

He wants to provide that same comfort and sense of stability you give him. If saying ‘I love you’ more often was what you needed to feel that, then he'd do it.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers quietly after his confession. When he pulls back slightly to scan your expression, you're staring up at him with that look in your eyes. That look that tells him--’I love you more than I can even express’. 

Your fingers reach up to cup both his cheeks, tugging him down so you can kiss him gently.

“I love you too,” you decide to settle with those four words, and he rests his forehead against yours.

“Don't leave me,” he murmurs.

“I'm not leaving you,” you promise.

“Stay with me,” he quietly requests.

“I will, I'm not leaving you,” you reassure him again, and there's a hint of a smile on your lips. “Though, I sort of like seeing you this vulnerable.”

He rolls his eyes and makes a move to pull away from you. You catch him with a laugh, arms wrapping around his waist.

“...I'll tell you I love you more often,” he admits defeat almost begrudgingly, and you smile up at him.

“Okay,” you whisper, “Thank you.”

“Can we go back to bed now?” 

He slips his hand into yours, and the way your fingers instinctively lace with his own melts his heart.

“Yeah, let's go home.”

[devilyn]

i lov ur writing!!!!

thank u!! ❤️