#hq kei tsukishima

[romeavecryst]

Fragments of Love ˖ ࣪⊹

K. TUSKISHIMA x Fem!reader ˖ ࣪⊹

Sum: Loving Tsukishima wasn’t easy, and eventually the fraction of love he gave her wasn’t enough to make up for his words anymore.

Warnings: Angst, toxic relationships, cursing, not proceed ofc!!

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

It was to perfect, wasn’t it? Sure she knew what she had gotten herself into when she began dating him knowing it wasn’t easy. But every couple has downs right? But one fight turned into one every week, and one every week turned into almost every day. They’d go days without having a meaningful conversation or even checking up on one another. The smile she once greeted him with slowly disappearing every time he saw her, she looked exhausted.

She was, she was tired of begging for his attention his love. The fucking bare minimum, why couldn’t he give it to her? Because he simply didn’t want to? ‘

‘Just leave him.’

She couldn’t, she stayed because even after the cruel words he said to her even after he got in her face even after everything. She came back to him every single time. Because he apologized.

He’d apologize, holding her close to him and tell her that he was sorry and he loved her. He’d show her so much love, because deep down he knew he was wrong for what he’s done.

That she never. Ever. Deserved the things he said yet he said them to her. He’d break her heart over and over again and she stayed. And everyone remind him that, simply tell him that he didn’t deserve her. That he took her generosity for granted, and that someday she won’t be as forgiving, that she won’t run back into his arms.

Their voices echoed outside the gym, they had been arguing all day and it finally erupted. Him complaining that she’s taking up his practice time, that he has better things to do then sit her and argue with “ a fucking-!”

“A fucking what?! A fucking what Kei!”

“A stupid fucking bitch!”

“Fuck you! You don’t care about anyone but your fucking self!”

He scoffed going back and forth with her, his face close with her as there screaming match became more heated. The sound of the gym doors opening being drowned out as they yelled. “You put your hands on her I’ll put you down my self.”

Tsukishima turned around quickly the feeling of his captains hand grabbing his arm, “like I’d fucking touch her.” He said.

Daichi glanced at his fist then to him “but you thought about it.” His voice stern. Tsukishima scoffed pulling away from Daichi walking to the gym, not sparing her a glance. As sick as it was she wouldn’t be surprised if he ever laid his hands on her, he’s punched walls and thrown things at her.

Daichis eyes met hers, her makeup running her eyes bloodshot. “Think it’s best you head home for the night.”

So she did.

And when it was time for his cycle to repeat, she stood there her eyes lifeless as she looked at him. Moving her head when he tried touching her face. Her anger was still fresh. Give her time. Give her time to come back like she dose.

Time was given and she didn’t run back into his arms, she didn’t accept his apologies. Days had passed and he was going crazy, the messages he sent being left on read over and over. Her never responding to them even when he would curse as her and tell her stop being dramatic in the voicemails he sent. He couldn’t stand how she avoided him in the halls like he was nothing. He was weak.

He’d never admit it would he that he was weak without her. It made him sick how dependent he was for her. Once two weeks had pass he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please.” A broken sob came from his throat.

“Go home Kei.” She spoke turning around to face him more.

Tsukishima was on his knees his head touching the pavement as he bowed apologetically, “I’m begging you please.” He cried.

He had finally looked up to her hoping there was something, even a simple frown in her brows. But nothing, she faced him emotionless. Just like last time. He’d sucked the last bit of life out of her, that when he finally decided to care it was too late. He wanted her to laugh in his face right now tell him how pathetic he was; crying at her feet like this. Yet she just stood there her hands tucked away in her sleeves her arms crossed.

“You used to make me feel good about myself, but now you make me feel like shit.” She spoke softly.

“Like I’m not good enough, or interesting enough-“

“I don’t think that..” he started.

“No shut up. Because that’s bullshit Tsukishima! You’ve told me yourself,” she scoffed. “Telling me I’m not good enough, that I’m lame, that I’m annoying that I’m unlovable.” She said her voice cracking.

His heart broke because she was right. He never had anything good to say, he’d done nothing but degrade her for months. That he was the cause of all of this because he couldn’t show her his love.

“I hate that it’s taken me till now to open my eyes,” no, no,no.

“Because I am enough. I am interesting, I am worthy of fucking love!” She spoke her voice stern.

She was worthy of love, yet he never showed that to her. He wasn’t worthy of hers, he didn’t deserve the chance she gave him. And she was going to leave him, this was what he was so afraid of. Trusting letting someone in. But how could he feel that what when the person he treated so horribly let him in so easily over and over again, he treated her like a fucking chore. Not his girlfriend.

“We’re done Kei. Over. I’m transferring, because I can’t be around you. I’m blocking and removing you on socials, don’t fucking reach out to me. Because with me leaving I don’t know what you’ll do. Maybe you’ll get a new girlfriend and treat her like a fucking human being.”

No, no he didn’t want a new girlfriend. He wanted her, she was leaving him. Leaving him for good. Moving schools so she doesn’t have to she his fucking face anymore. Blocking him so she doesn’t receive messages of him threatening and bullying her then begging for forgiveness. Over and over.

Broken sobs came from him as he stood up walking towards her, pleading her not to go. Just to give him a chance he’ll make it right this time. He promises. He promised to love her. To cherish her. That nobody could love him like she did because she was lovable. Because he was so fucking in love with her.

His head pressed against her front door as he begged her to open it, that he’ll make it right. A loud thud of his fist hitting the door as he cried. “Go home Tsukishima or I’m calling your brother to pick you up.” She spoke her back to the door.

“Don’t do this.. please.”

His brother had eventually picked him up with Yamaguchi and his father. When he got home he stood in his room phone in hand a message typed out to her. The message was green when he sent it.

“FUCK!” He yelled throwing his phone. Anger, was all he felt Anger and sadness. As he thrashed his room tears streaming down his face. He fucking hated her how could she do this to him. How could she leave him. That she made him feel so loved and she just left him. God how pathetic, she was a fucking loser, leave him? How could she leave him in so much pain?

“You’re actually joking me right…”

Tsukishimas eyes met his best friends. “What..”

“You’re blaming her.. how dare she leave?”Tadashi scoffed. Tsukishimas eyes left his looking over the others that sat with him during break Kageyama and Hinata.

The team stayed out of his business of corse but tsukishima brought this on himself rambling about her, because he was obsessed. Because he couldn’t admit he was in the wrong. That he was wrong, but how dare she leave right? Because it’s all on her.

“You ruined her.” The voice of the team’s manager spoke up.

Everyone looked at her, before Tsukishima could open his mouth she turned towards him “You ruined her, she let you hurt her over and over again. And she stayed. But when she’s finally fed up with your bullshit. When she became self aware of her self worth it’s selfish? Shame on her for wanting to be loved right? Shame on her for knowing she is so much more than you ever deserved.” She scoffed.

Kiyoko looked Tsukishima in the eyes “Thanks to you, she won’t ever be able to let anyone in as easily again, she won’t be able to feel loved because you tore her apart, you didn’t love her.”

“I did, I do love her. Fuck you, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spoke standing up.

Kiyoko rolled her eyes. “You don’t, you never fucking loved her because if you did she still be here. If you loved her you would have showed her.”

“But you’re a fucking insecure loser.” She finished her tone filled with venom.

Tsukishima was speechless. Kiyoko was right, that if he loved her she would still be there. With him smiling, holding his hand. But she wasn’t.

He ruined her, ruined her sanity and self respect for herself. Shame on her for having an enough to leave him so she could fix herself. Because all of a sudden once she left once he knew he lost her he started caring. She wouldn’t let anyone love her in the way she deserved because of him, because of him she’ll create a barrier never to let anyone in again.

Because he only gave her a fragment of his love.

 it’s very much ranting apologies.. listened to ceilings on repeat while writing this!!

[temeyes]

my darling tsukki!

[uravitypng]

tsukishima lets you take some kind of control, just this once. you're bouncing on his cock and he's hitting all the right places. tsukishima's got his hands on your hips just looking up at you taking in the way you move. how your stomach jiggles and your thighs are slightly shaking, how you're out of breath and how loud you're moaning. it's a shame you have no neighbours, everyone should know how good he makes you feel. he wraps one of his hands around your soft neck, applying slight pressure, you clench up at the feeling, making him groan.

it's all getting to much much for tsukishima, you feel so good and so warm but you're going too slow, it's infuriating. tightly putting both his hands back on your love handles, he starts lifting you up and down on his cock. he's trusting upwards the same time too, keeping the rhythm.

you always tend to forget how strong tsukishima really is and right now he's proving it as he's using you as some kind of glorified sex toy, pounding into you however he wants and using your body to get himself off. "you were being too slow. fuck." he groans, staring at your breasts as they move along with his thrusts. your moans get even louder, chanting his name over and over again in a whiny voice. "make yourself useful slut and touch yourself," you immediately obey as you bring your hands up to nipples and start touching them and pinching them. tsukishima smirks up at you, taking in all your beauty, taking in how you always listen to him.

it felt good to control the pace of sex but this feels better. plus your thighs were starting to get tired.

[soktokki]

Tsukkiyama week day 1: slice of life!! Here are snippets of their life at school that i imagine is canon 😭😭😭 btw my favorite panel is the third panel!!! 💛💚💛💚

[white-poppie]

Tsukishima Kei believes subtle actions speak louder than words ⎯ especially in relationships.

To anyone Kei would seem aloof and cold, but you know that he cares from his little gestures. The way he gently squeezes your hand to reassure you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, that little relieved smile that makes way on his face when you drop by during his practice sometimes. Him mindlessly massaging your calves ⎯ your legs sprawled over his as he lets you watch whatever sappy romance you want watch when you whine about your day being so bad.

Tsukishima who freezes when you move closer on the couch and peck his cheek during the movie. His surprise slowly dissolves on his face, making way for a soft smirk as he turns his head and looks at you.

"Was that necessary?" he asks, his words almost accusatory, but his tone and expression is relaxed.

"Nope, but I'm trying to get you used to affection." you say softly.

He snorts at your words, “So, you’re planning to slowly brainwash me to become the ideal boyfriend? Or what?"

"I am trying to brainwash you into being utterly in love with me, the ideal girlfriend." you chuckle, rotating your pointer finger in front of his face. "Wish Woosh, Hocus Pocus. Tsukishima Kei will love me forever."

Although he tries keeps up his serious expression, but it turns more into a smile as a wide grin spreads across his face at your silly action.

"You actually want me to say it? That I love you?" He asks, "Is that what the game is?" he rolls his eyes and shakes his head in amusement.

"Maybe?" you whisper out softly and look at him with those hopeful eyes of yours that make him melt.

Tsukishima is silent, just looking at you calmly in a way that makes your heart raise with excitement and trepidation togther.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" you ask softly and he sighs, shaking his head, his eyes softening.

"Of course not, its just...I am not used to it?" He says and you listen to him intently, nodding, urging him to continue. "I just...I don't know, it makes me feel so vulnerable saying it." He utters.

"I just feel like what the point of saying it, when I already express it through other ways, you know?" he says, running his fingers through your hair, calmly. Thats how he loves you.

"I know. you murmur, "I just like hearing you say it." You hum with a pause, looking at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "You don't have to say it if you don't want to, its just that it makes it feel so much real when I hear it..."

Tsukishima smiles, lightly. Thats what he loves about you. You have these ways of making him feel utterly speechless and you do this so effortlessly.

"Okay." he says, his ears getting a tiny bit red. You want to point it out, but you bite your tongue to not ruin the moment.

"I love you." he says, his hand resting over your head and a you can't help the bright smile that makes its way on your face. Hearing it out of his mouth almost makes you flustered. You can't help but giggle and bury your face in his chest.

"I love you too."

- FANFICTIONS  —HAIKYU!!

[bleubrri]

۪۫ ༄ؘ ˑ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’s ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ — ʜᴀɪᴋʏᴜᴜ

ft daichi / tsukishima / ukai / ushijima

summary: haikyuu boys realising they have a thing

༄ؘ ˑ SAWAMURA DAICHI — MARKING

running your teeth over the calloused tips of his fingers before taking them into your mouth is something daichi is used to. what he’s not used to is the feeling of your hand replacing the heat of your mouth, pumping him with languid strokes while you sink your teeth into his hip and bite. a strangled sort of noise leaves him, like he can’t decide whether to yelp or moan.

“what are you doing?”

“sorry.” you flash him a sheepish smile and press your lips over the reddened indents of your teeth. something swirls in his gut and daichi can practically feel his pupils dilate at the sight of the shallow imprints of your canines in his skin. claiming.

“no it—” he swallows thickly, broad chest heaving when you squeeze him at the base. your cheek is resting against his thigh, his aching length obscuring his view of your doe-eyed expression. “feels good.” he says, slipping a hand into your hair.

“really?” you look proud, eyes twinkling with delight as you trail your lips across his skin.

“mm, will you do it again, baby?”

this time, you can feel his dick twitching in your grasp when you nip at the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. you’re jerking him with slickened strokes, your other hand caged between the mattress and digging crescents into his ass.

your mouth feels like it’s everywhere, and when he’s coming down from his high, spent and coated in a sheen of sweat, it looks like you have been: the corded muscle of his thighs is tender to the touch and covered in bruises. hues of raspberry and darkened plum sucked into his skin and teeth marks glistening with saliva that he wears like a badge of honor.

༄ؘ ˑ TSUKISHIMA KEI — HAIR PULLING

honestly, he has no idea what he’s doing. he’s never gone down on anyone before, but it’s easier than he thought, and you seem to be enjoying it. he’s hesitant at first, just exploring your folds, running his tongue along every part of you until he finds something that makes your breath hitch. you’re so.. receptive, muffled sounds of pleasure slipping from your lips and guiding him to focus in on what you like.

he makes a very interesting discovery when he curls his tongue inside you and you clench around him, a hand flying into his hair and gripping blonde locks between your fingers. he blinks, does it again, and you sing for him.

“fuck, tsukki, right there—” your nails are grazing his scalp as you tug him closer and he shivers, grips your hips and lets himself be shoved further into your cunt. his spine is tingling, nose pressed into your clit as he buries himself in your pussy and maps out your insides until your soaked walls are moulded to the shape of his tongue. he’s groaning into your heat when the flavour of you bursts across his tongue, lapping at your release and urging you to tug.

he mumbles something that gets lost in the lewd slurping between your legs, and when your hand slips away and you start to wriggle from his grasp, he snaps his head up and yanks your wrist back into his hair.

“harder.” he repeats it with so much fervour that all you can do is blink, slowly nodding in a lustful haze and guiding his mouth back to the apex of your thighs.

༄ؘ ˑ UKAI KEISHIN — BREEDING

the room is starting to get so hot that it’s making you lightheaded. ukai is hovering over you, pushing your knees further into your chest with each thrust as you desperately cling to his shoulders. the sticky tip of his cock hitting your g-spot has your nails reflexively dragging along the taut muscle of his back at a pressure that you both know will bloom angry red columns of scratches against his tan skin.

his cum has started to drip down the seam of your ass, sticky ropes of it beginning to coat his balls that press against you when he buries himself to the hilt and rolls his hips. it has your toes curling, your eyes hazy and pussy pulsing so hard you ache.

“‘m full keishi—hah!” you actually jolt beneath him when he presses a calloused thumb into the slick mess of your clit.

“one more.” he offers, “just one more, angel.” and it doesn’t take long either—all ukai has to do is picture you swollen with his seed, full tits and glowing features, and he’s releasing another load into your spent pussy with a drawn out string of expletives.

you’re reaching for him, navigating every hot curl of his tongue in a sloppy connection of your mouths while keishins hips fuck his cum back into you. he can feel your blissful smile against his lips, “that all ya wanted? hm? wanted me to fuck a baby into ya, sweetheart?”

༄ؘ ˑ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — LINGERIE

if he’s being completely honest he rarely pays attention to what you’re wearing before he fucks you—it’s coming off soon, so why think too hard about it? plus, he prefers you bare anyway.

but this, oh he likes this. and you can tell. you watch his adams apple bob when he swallows from his place seated on the edge of the mattress as you step out of the bathroom with a shy smile. you pad into the room, give him a little twirl as you present yourself to him. wakatoshi has to release the sheets clenched between his fists and remember to breathe.

“it’s cute, don’cha think?” you’re glimpsing at yourself in the mirror, adjusting a strap here, plucking at the fabric that sticks to you like second skin. he hums, feeling foolish for envying strips of lace and cotton.

wakatoshi reaches for your hip when you’re in his reach, pulls you to stand between his legs only for you to crawl into his lap. he can feel the heat of you, and if you notice the hardness between his legs you don’t comment on it. you’re nosing at his jaw, and he feels a groan bubbling at the back of his throat when you press your chest to his. nimble fingers tugging at the clasp between your shoulder blades pulls his focus from dragging his lips along the dips of your collarbone. when a large hand closes over yours and guides it away from your back, you fix him with a questioning look.

wakatoshi looks up at you through unfairly thick lashes, his mouth at your sternum pushing fire into your chest.

“keep it on, hm?”

☆ — reblogs / comments are super appreciated<3

[ezariumi]

Illustrated for the Haikyuu!! Gone Wild Zine - @hqanimalzine. Featuring Kuroo, Tsukishima and Bokuto. 🛒Leftover sales: Nov 24 - Dec 17, 2023.

[freaktwinsoftheconcrete]

New covers for the light novels, each made look like the cover of Sportiva.

Translation of the quotes / headlines:

Kageyama 1:

“The Monsters of Spring High”

Shoyo Hinata/Korai Hoshiumi [Little giant's genes]

Kotaro Bokuto/Kyoomi Sakusaya[Memory of the legendary five days]

Inarizaki High School V Karasuno High School [Giant Killing of the Century]

Hinata 1:

BRAZIL [Close coverage of the sand ninja] Shoyo Hinata

ARGENTINA [Why did you go to the other side of the world] Tooru Oikawa

Tsukishima:

Climb up, adventurer. - V1 league promotion survival

A generation of monsters aiming to rise to the top

[Sendai Frogs] Tsukishima/Koganekawa [Tamaman Elephants] Kindaichi/Onagata [Nichikyaku Automobile Lions] Yamagata

Hoshiumi:

Small and strong is cool

Super minionism.

[Opening interview] “Those who challenge height”

"Small Soldiers Who Challenge the World" Hinata/ Yaku

Sakusa

Pursue “the ideal end”

[Ultimate all-rounder] Kiyoomi Sakusa

Ushijima:

Be strong, be right, and follow your own path!

[Japan's main gun Ushiwaka] Wakatoshi Ushijima

Kenma

"I'm not interested in winning or losing. Is it fun or boring?"

Is it Kodzuken? [E-sports special issue]

[Let's talk about Kodzuken!] Lev Haiba (Model) /Tetsuro Kuroo (Japan Volleyball Association member)

Yaku:

The patron saint arrives

``How many times have they saved the team?

Libero Special Feature [From Europe with love] Yaku

[Learn from the craftsmen!] Komori/Inunaki/Heiwajima

Hinata 2:

For the sake of my friends, the sun will rise again.

[Will he be the savior of Japan?] - Shoyo Hinata

Miya:

"I don't care whether it's praise or insults." Challenger style

[Compete against the world with three swords]

Bokuto:

I am an ordinary ace

If you have the energy, you can do the opening interview.

[Japan's spirited spirit] Kotaro Bokuto

[Talk about old and new teammates]

Kageyama 2:

Thorough debate! Who is Japan's command tower?

[Control the monsters] - Kageyama Tobio

[What's wrong with being super aggressive]

[Strength that accepts weakness]

Oikawa:

Insignificant Pride Theory

[World-class control tower from Miyagi] Toru Oikawa “Adversity is my true strength”

[Mentor speaks] Jose Blanco “People are defeated when they set their limits.”

[Testimony of an old friend] Hajime Iwaizumi (Japanese Team Athletic Trainer “Proud partner + big idiot”)

[romeavecryst]

Crush Culture˖ ࣪⊹

I. Nervous

sum: Tsukishima minding his business until he runs into someone while on his way to the bathroom.. why was his heart beating so fast, why where his hands so sweaty. Was he nervous? gross.

warnings: cursing, tsukishima having and attitude and reader having an even worse attitude, flirting, Blk!coded reader!

(II.)

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

A practice match against Nekoma, karasunos rivals. Everyone was excited well mostly everyone. The bus ride was long enough, and now he had to play, fun! Tsukishima was never one for the loudness that came with his team the stupidity that came for the two other first years to go along with it always got in his nerves. Lost in thought as he grabbed his bag tuning out the loudness. The school was big, I didn’t help people were just leaving classes as they arrived. The stares the team received, the whispers as they followed, a few girls here and there pointing out Tsukishima a fawn giggle leaving their lips as he continued walking.

“Annoying..” he muttered putting his headphones back on shoving his hands in his pockets.

Nekomas team captain had shown them a team room they could change and leave their stuff in, more spacious than the one at school. Leaving his stuff behind he went to hunt down a bathroom, he just wanted to wash his face and fill his water bottle.

He mentally punched himself for forgetting his headphones making himself seem approachable. Why would these school girls think that? After the multiple no thank you’s as he walk, he was going to lose his mind. These girls didn’t even know him yet felt the could walk up to him a simple ‘hey I think your cute.’ Would get him into their Snapchat. Yeah no. Maybe he was a dick but he simply didn’t care, he didn’t want the attention he didn’t ask for it nor put himself out there.

A solid thud to his chest knocking him back was enough to knock him out of his thoughts “For fucks sake watch where your going.” He groaned.

Looking up his eyes met a girls who was now giving him a dirty look, once an apologetic one. “Ya’ know I was gonna apologize until you decided to be a dick about it, god didn’t your mother teach you to have some manners.” She scoffed, her voice wasn’t high nor low but was still a bit deeper then what he expected a nice medium.

“Excuse me?” He glared at her.

“Your excused baby, but watch who you’re talkin’ to with that tone.” She spoke, her arms crossing across her chest as her hip piped out to the side.

Her attitude pissed him off, the red track suit she wore fitted tight different material then most track suits it hugged her body yet was still modest, on her thigh read ‘Nekoma Vollyball’ a spot on her chest ‘Manager’. Your fucking kidding me he thought. His eyes soon met her her dark ones giving him a nasty glare as he stood up straight, his eyes now examining her, her complexion was dark, the way her makeup sat in her face making her look nice and glowy, her lashes were long extensions maybe? The makeup around her eyes Smokey with a sharp wing, her lips lined and filled in slightly a dark cherry gloss coat over her lips. A gold hop in her nose matching the sets in her ears. Her hair was straight, parted to the side slicked back behind her ears her hair was a little past her shoulders.

He was definitely starring to hard because the snap of her fingers brought him back. The sound of her Acrylics making the snap a bit louder, “hello? I’m still waiting for an apology.” Her tone snarky he could see the little smirk in the corner of her lips.

He scoffed “I’m sorry?” His voice felt shaky.

Her lips pulled up quickly into a smile “thank you! And your forgiven, don’t be to late warmups will start soon.” she said walking away waving her fingers at him giving him a toothy grin, making Tsukishimas stomach tingle. Cocky little fucker. He scoffed, did that really just happen.

“What the fuck.” He said to himself his eyes wide, a half smile on his face. “What the fuck just happen.” He laughed irritably his hand touching his chest, god his heart was beating fast, are you kidding me. Did she just make him nervous. Gross. A girl being snarky and irritated towards him made him nervous.

Looking as his hands rubbing them together they were cold and clammy, no fucking way. He groaned whipping his face dramatically. He quickly opened the bathroom door. It wasn’t even the way she looked at him, her big eyes getting small as she glared as him, how her lips frowned as she crossed her arms. This is gross, disgusting actually. Why was he nervous he didn’t even know her. Plus she had an attitude her voice was annoying, but why did it continue to ring through his ears when she called him ‘baby’ her being obviously sarcastic with how her tone held it. Calling him that in a mocking manner. And he didn’t say shit back.

“I don’t know who’s fuckin’ son that is be he needs to be popped in the mouth.” She scoffed walking up to Nekomas team captain.

“Who needs to be beat up.” Kuroo asked. Getting the attention of Fukunaga, Yamamoto, and Lev.

“Some blonde kid tall lanky.. glasses. He’d be cute if he didn’t have a mouth on him.” She admitted turing away from the boys grabbing a clipbord.

“THAT SCRAWNY FIRST YEAR!” Yamamoto yelled.

Her eyes looked back at him raising an eyebrow “He’s a first year? Interesting..” she said smirking.

“I thought we were taking a break from boys.” Yaku said standing next to her his hip bumping hers.

She gasped dramatically “Yaku you act like I’m boy crazy have some more faith in me.” She smiled. “Plus I’m not into blondes.”

“It’s just that he’s blonde not even younger than you.” Kuroo said crossing his arms a teasing smirk on his lips.

She shrugged her shoulders “I’m both, Cougar, panther. I like my men well dressed, good music, treats me well and my dad has to like him.” She spoke simply her index finger tapping her chin, her gaze leaning Kuroo as the said blonde walked in to the gym his eyes meeting hers quickly, only to break eye contact immediately. She smiled amusingly “Plus he won’t know what to do with all this.” She spoke confidently her hands tracing her body.

“I hate you both. The only real person I like here is Fukunaga and maybe lev,” legs head Turing quickly about to say something only for her to cut him off “depending on the day.” She pointed at him.

“I’m gonna throw up on you.” Kuroo and Kenma said.

“So you hate me.” Yaku said, “no bae it not like that!” She fake cried.

“No no I get it.” He scoffed.

Tsukishima watch from the other side of the court how she laughed with her team mates, helping them warm up. He watched how she tucked her hair behind her ear moving it out of her face. How she talked to guys helping them with something when they came to her asking about form of how the should fix it. Her voice was faint but it was kind, unlike earlier when she spoke to him. Her eyes were the same, his heart dropped when her eyes met his, a smirk meeting her lips as she raised a brow as in saying she caught him looking again. He only scoffed shaking his head paying attention to his own team again.

Even during the match he kept stealing glances. How she sat next to the coaches talking to them while pointing at players them nodding and taking in what she said. “Yo! You got a problem blondie? Staring at our manager, I get she’s pretty but she’s not into blondes.” Yamamoto said making a face at tsukishima earning a smack to the back of the head from Kuroo.

“Don’t mind him but he’s right. Plus she’s to old do ya kid.” Kuroo smirked.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes she’s older? Third year maybe? To bad. “keep her I don’t want her. Plus she’s not even my type. I cant stand snotty little brats.” He smiled.

The two glared at him “ better watch your mouth.”

“Oh I did, I don’t like brats.” Tsukishima said popping the t.

Daichi quickly grabbed him “Sorry he’s not great with words, excuse him.” His tone apologetic as he patted Tsukishima on the back passive aggressively.

Tsukishimas snarky comments about the team’s manager obviously got back to the rest of the team and her because that whole team had it out for him. Maybe he was a bit of a dick but it’s just how he was. After saying their thank you’s he watched as the two managers, walked up to each other hugging. Saying goodbyes. As Kiyoko walked away his eyes met hers for the last time, her giving him a mocking smile waving as him with her fingers the acrylics on her nails making it seem more dramatic. He glared Turing his back to her, the tips of his ears hot, as his heart thumped heavy.

There’s no fucking was she made him nervous. Gross he doesn’t even know her name as he makes his hands sweaty and shaky.

This is bullshit.

[jomteaaa]

prompt: you're in the early stages of a relationship with tsukishima kei, and a secret one at that. one day, you decide to take a peek during his practice to know more about the sport he claims he "doesn't obsess over". however, just before you leave, he sees you, and immediately knows you had been watching him. after his practice, he texts you to tease you about it, until you take away his "kissing privileges" as a joke. he doesn't reply you, but he does shows up at your window. of course, you let him in. "what are you-- mmph!" he cuts you off with a breathtaking kiss. "you kissed me back, which means your statement is invalid." he attempts to leave after that, but you pull him back for another kiss. "it has been and will always be invalid, kei." he melts and hides his face in the crook of your neck as his arms wrap around your waist.

pt 2

[baguantte]

blue lock haikyuu unwilling crossover

[soktokki]

Rainy day routine ☔️☔️

[thatnewweeb]

College boyfriend Tsukishima who sometimes acts like he doesn't really care, but you know better.

Your friends ask why you bother staying with him. You're in college, you should be having fun, they'll tell you, not being with someone who doesn't care about you and isn't even fun.

You know better than them, of course. Your boyfriend just struggles with affection.

His care for you isn't shown by spinning you around in his arms when you see each other after classes, or kissing you in front of everyone to prove you're his, or keeping his arm around you when you go out together so no one else dares to talk to you.

His care is shown in smaller ways, ways that way more caring to you.

Instead, he'll cook for you when you have a busy day. He'll let you complain to him when you have a bad day, offer you suggestions for ways you can deal with your problems, or ways you can lower your stress.

He'll help you study when you have a test coming up, even if you aren't in the same classes. He'll introduce you to his family, tell you about his childhood, even secretly brag about you to his friends from high school (not that he'd ever tell you about that).

Tsukishima is a man that can come across as cold, but you know better. He's really just a big softie when it comes to you.

[strawbsstarz]

random bf text!! tsukishima kei pt.3

when u miss each other <3

warning: kinda 18+

[shibaraki]

THE VANISHING MOON ┊ TSUKISHIMA KEI

tags: GN reader, post timeskip, exes to lovers, fluff, emotional hurt + comfort, reader is a writer, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, getting back together, kisses, weddings, previous ‘mutual’ breakup, happy ending

wc: 4.2K

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

The first time you picked up a pen with the intention to write you’d been looking for a specific someone. To pour love into and be loved by. Conjured from the recesses of your mind, a soft smile from the boy you liked, one prepared to whisk you away from the converging angst that came with your adolescence.

In later years you looked inward, searching for yourself. To satiate your loneliness through self introspection. Ink blotted fingers working arduously at the knots that make up the soul. Knots that were once straight rope, simple and without weak points. And when you failed to love yourself you turned outward, exploring the web that made up the world.

You saw that other people loved stories, too. That there would always be at least one which speaks to them in some way and stays with them. You coveted that reality; to be something another person could love, and look back on with fondness. For your words to strike such a chord that they’d become part of another’s tapestry. To live on. Never again be forgotten, even if it means being an echo of something.

That yearning accompanies you up the cobbled footpath. The crisp air pinching the tips of your ears. Soft, muted chirps rippled throughout the treeline. “Wow,” you murmur, breathless. Arms sticky with perspiration, leg muscles tingling in exertion after walking the steep hill.

The reception venue sits on the end of a private road, concealed by threadbare canopy. Under an open sky there lay every shade and stroke of colour. Dappled sunlight casts shadows across the grass and your eyes are drawn to them.

“Wow is right. They’ve done an incredible job,” Sugawara airs his appreciation as he walks at your side. His voice is awed, and his cheeks are red. “I can’t believe they managed it. Karumai Gardens are notoriously stingy for booking events”.

The wedding invitation shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Remaining some of your closest friends, Kiyoko and Tanaka had already confirmed your attendance long before the formal invites were sent out. You even found yourself on the end of multiple phone calls over the months assisting a panicked Tanaka with writing and rewriting his vows.

Despite that, your stomach roiled at the invitation on your kitchen counter, and your heart crawled up into your throat. Because suddenly it was too real.

Everybody would be there.

Tsukishima would be there.

You’ve been a high strung for most of the day, hyper vigilant to the point of fraying. The ceremony was beautiful. Kiyoko looked ethereal draped in her white lace gown, a delicate veil cascading down her back and rippling down the aisle as she walked. Tanaka was striking in his dark blue suit and embroidered waistcoat. Sitting at the forefront, you remained steadfast in your ignorance of Tsukishima’s scrunity and dabbed at your face as you cried.

You missed having his attention. Missed the subtle stroke of his sharp gold eyes across every part of you as though it were Tsukishima’s hands themselves. A scant, cowardly part of you considered not attending the reception, grateful that he hadn’t approached you yet. If he would at all. Kei could be unbearably prideful about these things. But what do you know?

Nothing. After all this time you probably know nothing at all.

“I think he wants to talk to you,” Sugawara says, drawing your focus to the present. “It’s obvious he’s missed you”.

You edge past the increasingly dense foliage with intent, your fingertips outstretched to brush the near-blooming plants. “Who?” you ask. Sugawara’s grin turns wry and he threads his arm through yours.

“So petty,” he murmurs, patting your bicep. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But he’s single, and has been staring at you all day. I thought I should mention it”.

“Well you’ve mentioned it,” you return without true malice, squeezing him back. Sugawara’s lips parted in a sigh, and for a brief second, you saw a wistful expression beneath the lighthearted veneer. It stirs unease in your chest and you add, “I just don’t want to make a scene”.

“You really think that’s what it’ll come to?”

Memories unearthed from the deep recesses of your mind. Packed away into tight spaces and left to collect dust where they can’t hurt you. They awaken easily, triggered by a simple question, and with such clarity that you wonder if you ever forgot them at all.

Soft, deliberate touches. Long, warm embraces, swallowed up by his large frame. Graceless laughter—the ugly kind that makes your stomach hurt. Languorous kisses, biting kisses, chaste kisses, clumsy kisses. Good morning and good night kisses. Bickering over breakfast. Bickering over dinner. Wandering, calloused hands. Pressure behind two fingers, splitting you like soft fruit. A sharp tongue and sharper words. Holding hands in bed, anchoring yourself to him like you were afraid he might float away in the night.

Life became busier than either of you expected. Kei landed an opportunity to play for a division two team in the V league alongside his work at the Sendai city museum. Your publisher's demands increased. Kei’s priorities shifted. Resentment crept in. He started to forget things. Small promises and favours, like getting the grocery’s or making it home for date night. They felt so significant at the time—things you deemed indicative of his commitment to you, without communicating as such.

Fractures formed in your relationship. You ignored them in favour of keeping the peace, hoping to address them when the timing was better. Only with hindsight can you say that was the wrong choice. The fractures contracted, expanded until it grew into a yawning cavity with one of you standing either side of it. A slow decay.

“No. No, it wouldn’t,” you tell Sugawara. Tsukishima has never been a shining paragon of virtue but he wouldn't do anything to disrupt Tanaka’s wedding. “I’m just nervous. I haven’t seen him since…”

Sugawara hums his acknowledgment. You’re adrift as he guides you into the venue holding the wedding reception, welcomed into a kaleidoscope of colour. Carefully crafted floral arrangements line the hall. Half of the building is a greenhouse conversion, and natural light filters in through the high, arching ceilings, illuminating the dance floor. You take in the surroundings as your senses are enveloped by the pleasant din.

“Look, there’s Yachi and Nishinoya,” Sugawara tugs on your arm and calls out, “Yachi! Noya!”

Nishinoya crowed, leaping forward to gather you and Sugawara into a blistering hug. Barely two extra inches on him yet larger than you remember, skin kissed by the sun and his hair handsomely coiffed. His waistcoat creases awkwardly with the stretch of his body while you sink into his warmth and feel your cheeks ache.

“Man, I feel like I could scale a mountain! It’s so good to see you guys again,” Nishinoya reclines to get a look at you both and firmly takes you by the shoulders. “You have a lot to answer for,” he says with mock seriousness.

“I do?” you laugh, skull knocking side to side as he shakes you.

“I read your book on the plane”.

Your laughter putters out. You grimace and clear your throat, “Oh—really?”

“Most of us have. We wanted to support you properly,” Yachi admits as she steps forward to hug you. She’s smiling when she pulls away, faint laughter lines deepening.

Sugawara nods and pokes at your waist, “Don’t look so embarrassed. It was amazing”.

“It made me cry!” Nishinoya effuses. He sniffs, and to your mortification he looks like he might burst into tears again. “There was this one line—gah, no! I can’t talk about it. Get over here, I need to hug you again”.

“Thank you, Noya-san,” you wheeze at the arms constricting around your midsection, eyes clenched shut to repress the impending sting. You turn your head, nose knocking against his temple as you peer at the others. “Thank you all. I mean it”.

Yachi squirms, her smile quivering. “I’m really happy you made it today,” she says once you’ve been released. The unyielding pressure of Nishinoya’s embrace lingers like two phantom limbs. “You too, Nishinoya-san”.

“It’s amazing you’re upright. I thought for sure the jet lag would get to you,” Sugawara laughs. He utters a quick apology to the server passing with a tray of drinks. “Didn’t you fly in from Barcelona?”

“Yeah. Should’a been heading to Andorra but I wouldn’t miss my bro’s wedding for the world,” Nishinoya’s voice drifts as his eyes follow the alcohol. He plucks a glass in one swift motion and holds it high, “Salut I força al canut!”

Yachi watches him throw back the drink with poorly veiled anxiety. “Ah, speaking of, we should find our seats. It looks like the cake cutting is starting soon”.

“Good call. We’re getting in the way of the preparations. And I think you’ve left Asahi alone for too long,” Sugawara claps Nishinoya on the shoulder. “Looks like he’s been accosted by Saeko-san”.

Nishinoya pivots on his heel, whip-like and buzzing. You’re not sure which name he reacted to more. Asahi or Saeko. “Where?” his gaze locks in on the pair across the room. “I’ll talk to you guys in a bit!”

Gone in a blink. “He never slows down,” Sugawara sighs, shaking his head fondly. “Guess that’s my cue,” he says before parting ways. Yachi waves after them.

An idea strikes you then. “Say, Yacchan. You’re next to me, right?” you glance toward the long tables set up around the dance floor and meet her gaze with a suggestive smile. “Would you want to sit next to Yamaguchi instead? I don’t mind swapping”.

Their relationship had blossomed over the past few months. A long, slow burn finally come to fruition, new enough that mention of it usually makes her turn pink. But the light in her eyes dims at your suggestion, and rather than flustered, Yachi looks uncertain.

Her fingers form a loose clasp around your forearm. “Tadashi is seated next to Tsukishima,” she explains gingerly. You feel yourself freeze and the kind motion of her thumb strokes circles along the inside of your wrist.

You let out a shaky exhale. “That’s okay. I don’t mind,” you tell her before the consequences of what you’re offering can really be cemented. Yachi’s eyes widen, her grip tighter on your hand as you squeeze back in an attempt at reassurance, knowing your smile looks brittle. “It’s probably for the best. We haven’t… talked yet”.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure”.

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“Hitoka,” you laugh, bumping your shoulders together. “I promise I’ll survive”.

You regret it not two minutes later.

Anticipation fizzes under your skin as you spot him. On approach you give him a cursory look over, the harsh beat of your heart ricocheting in your chest. Tsukishima looks good—he always does, but today, dressed in his dark, double breasted suit, with the golden hour light carding fingers through his neatly styled hair, you think he’s never looked better.

It is disconcerting to see him again and realise that your feelings haven’t changed much in the slightest.

You sit in the chair beside him. You see his spine draw taut in the corner of your eye and feel an oscillating loneliness; so alike those final few weeks together that cold dread seeps between the spaces in your ribs and steals your breath.

“Tsukishima,” you incline your head, impersonal and cautious, hating how foreign his surname is on your tongue.

A beat passes before he repeats your name in greeting, soft as a psalm despite the dour expression on his face. You’re overcome with the urge to poke the uncomfortable crease in his brow. To smooth it out and kiss the skin there, the way you used to do.

You shift in your seat. The arms curve around your midsection and knock against your elbows as you fiddle with the table cloth, “I told Yacchan that Yamaguchi could have my seat so they can sit together. I hope that’s alright”.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” and you know the clipped answer is reflexive by the way his jaw locks in frustration at himself. Bracing for what you’ll say next.

Only, your mouth curls up a little, and you exhale a short laugh through your nose. You haven’t seen him this skittish since your first year of highschool. You consider that maybe you aren’t the only one who’s scared. That things are the same and they are not the same. The thought is bittersweet, but it’s nice, the way his trepidation gives way to muted awe, how he sends you sidelong glances when he thinks you’re not looking.

The music picks up in a grand crescendo as the newlyweds enter the hall and the reception begins with a raucous applause. A rich aroma unfurls as the food is served, the depth of the flavour layering over the already present notes of wildflower and honey. Drinks are handed to the guests. Generously. You swirl the liquid gold around the rim of your glass, luxuriating in the syrupy inebriation of a gently oaked chardonnay.

“So, uh. How’ve you been?”

Tsukishima, to his credit, does not startle at the question. “Fine,” he says, and you think he might leave it at that when he adds, “The museum received another new Crinoid collection last month, so I’ve been preoccupied”.

You grasp at the conversational thread, not wanting him to stop, “Crinoids?”

“Marine animals. They still exist today, though not as common. You might’ve heard of sea lilies and feather stars,” he shrugs halfheartedly, not daring to look away from his deep fried tofu, though it’s clear he can’t help talking about his work with pride. “Ours are from the Triassic period”.

“Just like the, uh—” you click your fingers to conjure the name from thin air “—Gojirasaurus! Your favourite, right?”

Tsukishima pauses. It’s a fleeting thing, but you notice. The corner of his lips curves into a barely-there smile. He seems pleased that you remembered. You busy your hands with repositioning the cutlery a fourth time so maybe, hopefully, you can distract yourself enough not to say something stupid like: “If I visit, will you show it to me?” or “Do you miss me, like I miss you?”

You clear your throat. “I hear the Sendai Frogs have been doing well, too. Congratulations on moving up to division one”.

Those aureate eyes are sliding to you again, bright and searching. Tsukishima arches his brow in a delicate mocking gesture that was unbearable when he was sixteen and even more so now. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”

There’s mirth trickling into his voice, giving it a familiar smarmy lilt. A wave of emotion washes over you. Embarrassment and heart-twisting-happiness. You shove some rice into your mouth and chew it down to fine paste, vying for time to formulate a coherent sentence. “No. I read about it in the latest Volleyworld issue,” you reply unconvincingly.

“You don’t read Volleyworld”.

“How would you know that?”

Tsukishima takes a shallow breath and nods. The warm gloam of late afternoon mellows his taut features. “I’ve been reading too,” he says after another sip of wine. “I saw you finally published your book”.

Dread seized the inner workings of your mind and the apology on the tip of your tongue curdles. Time ticks by, one sickening second after another. Your eyes dip low to avoid his gaze—which for some reason, he refused to direct anywhere else.

Your recollection of the break up itself was hazy at best. There had been no raised voices, no desperate movie-esque kiss, no slammed doors. Only grief filling your body like lead, and jumbled, half-hysterical thoughts of ‘Is this it? Are we giving everything up, just like that?’

You remember everything that followed, though. The inability to accept reality. It is said if a writer falls in love, that love can never die. And so you kept writing, and writing, and writing; perceiving love through different lenses, creating different endings; relying on metaphors of natural forces and disasters, of cannibalism and gluttony, of journeys and patience to make sense of it all. Six months after everything fell apart you completed the final draft of ‘The Vanishing Moon’, dedicating a final testimony to him in small print on the first page.

Given the choice, I would’ve rather had you at my side than any one of these words.

Has he seen it? Is that what he’s getting at? Did he read through all eighteen chapters and meticulously pick out the remnants of him you pressed between the pages?

“Noya said it made him cry,” you eventually reply.

Tsukishima signals for another drink. He takes two flutes from the server, handing one to you. You accept it with a soft ‘thanks’, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your fingers. “Nishinoya-san cried when he found out swans can be gay,” he points out.

“You cried at The Land Before Time”.

“What kind of cold hearted bastard doesn’t cry at The Land Before Time?”

Laughter bubbles up in your chest as the initial dread ebbs away and the tension seeps from your shoulders. Tsukishima dips his chin, a small smile as he mutters, “That’s better”.

In the centre of the hall Tanaka cradles Kiyoko in his arms, now surrounded by clusters of their loved ones whirling with their own partners, a hurricane of colour and laughter and love. Tsukishima observes them with a solemn gleam in his eye. That could’ve been us, his heart says in chorus with your own.

“Do you remember that time we danced together in third year, at the summer festival? I tried to kiss you and gave you a nosebleed”.

“I remember”.

Your gaze drops to the bottom of your glass. At the time you had been mortified. Now it’s a story you would share at your own wedding table. The thought cleaves your heart in half.

“Do you remember the song that was playing?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Tsukishima snaps. “Yes, I remember everything. I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to. Happy?”

There’s a surge of something devastating in your chest, like love and heartbreak all at once, strong enough that you feel as if your ribs might splinter just to make room for it. But they don’t—and you don’t, because you’ve felt this before, and your body remembers.

You remember.

Suddenly the room is too hot, and the music is too loud. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute,” you murmur, pushing your chair back and getting to your feet.

“Wait,” in one short breath there are long, calloused fingers circling your wrist. You do wait. Tsukishima hesitates, the pressure elevates, and as you lean away your palm slips into his, skin kissing skin. Then he’s standing, towering over you. “I’ll come with you. I know a place that’s quiet”.

Tsukishima does not let go of your hand, and you don’t let go of his. He walks a few steps ahead guiding you through the throngs of people. Some familiar heads turn, their attention drawn immediately to the place where your bodies meet, and shooting you various looks of encouragement or confusion. Yamaguchi sees you pass and his mouth splits into a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle.

You’re not sure where it is he’s taking you, only that his promise of finding quiet is true. The cacophony simmers and soon enough the festivities are muffled entirely. Just when you think you’ve wound up at the end of a corridor it curves, leading to a pair of french doors. “Come on,” Tsukishima ushers you out onto a balcony.

What you’re greeted by makes your breath catch. The world as it is around you comes to a standstill, the fabric of reality peeling away. An orange yolk dips below the horizon and the sunset hour drapes across the ostensibly endless meadow hidden behind the Karumai Gardens. Rolls of grass sway in the wind, peppered with wildflowers of every shade.

You move to stand at the balcony’s edge. Tsukishima drops his hand, and your fingers curl into your palm. The shadows grow longer, the air cooler. The evening insects begin to sing. You’re warmed still by the wine thrumming in your bloodstream.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

He comes to stand beside you, folding his arms atop the wall. “Don’t call me that”.

“Oh,” you swallow against the swell in your throat. “Sorry, Tsukishima”.

Tsukishima’s expression twists into a scowl. There’s a blush creeping toward his ears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says. You blink and wait for him to elaborate, which only flusters him further. He stares stubbornly at the border. “Just—call me as you normally would. Anything else sounds wrong in your mouth”.

The name leaves you in an instant. Hushed—not whispered, “…Kei”.

He makes an inquisitive noise, strangled as it is.

“You didn’t say what you thought of it,” you continued. “My book”.

You feel a rush of adrenaline when Kei doesn't answer immediately, unable to read his expression. “Good,” he says, veiled indifference belied by the restless twisting of a cufflink between his forefinger and thumb. “It was good”.

“Well, that’s practically a Pulitzer recommendation coming from you”.

“Shut up,” he huffed, gaze flitting across your face and dropping to your tentative, uncertain beginning of a smile. He wets his lips and glances away. Heartened, both by the alcohol and his reciprocation, you press closer in small increments, and Kei flowers under your gentle persuasion, like he always used to.

“This okay?”

In lieu of a reply you are ensconced by a warm, firm chest and two strong arms around your back that show no sign of withdrawing. The low timbre of his voice vibrates under your cheek, “Who was it for?”

“Hm?”

“The book. You dedicated it to someone”.

You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. You’re glad, in part, that he can’t see the emotion written plainly on your face. “Nobody,” you answer lightly, angling to position your ear right over his beating heart. “Just an ex. You don’t know him”.

“Right,” Kei says, drawing out the ‘l’ the way he does when conceding a point he knows he’s correct about. It sounds so fond that you want to curl up where you’re resting, like some benevolent cat. “Guy must’ve been a dick”.

“I was too. We made a lot of mistakes, I think,” you say. If nothing came of this you would at least be able to revisit it; to pick at the scab and stop the wound from closing over too soon. There’s comfort in that. You crane your head and meet his gaze, nervous but unwavering. “But even if he was kind of a dick, I miss him a lot”.

“Yeah?” his eyes soften, half lidded and dark. “He misses you too”.

“He told you that, did he?” your mouth trembles. Kei dips to bring your foreheads together, and the hard frame of his glasses bumps your eyebrow. You share a shaky exhale of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, brow pinched with regret. Again, “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up”.

You feel your jaw quiver. The familiar burn behind your eyes. Tears so close you can taste them. “We both did. Don’t shoulder the blame on your own”.

“But I made you feel lonely,” he says.

You tuck your chin and whisper, “Yes”.

His fingers splayed across your cheek, pinky tucked beneath your jaw as he cradled your face in his hand, tilting until you’re staring back at the reflection in his pupils. Puffy and damp, eyelashes clumped with tears. What a sight.

Kei strokes his thumb in an arc beneath your eye. A tear beads on his nail, slipping into the crook of his hand. The inexpressible tenderness is overwhelming yet you are underwhelmed by the inaction. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by the whine in your voice as you ask, “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Demanding as ever. What happened to ‘please’?” he murmurs. And then he kisses you.

It is slow at first, hesitant, leaving room for you to pull away. But with every languid movement of Kei’s lips came a sweet affirmation, that which you took and took until you no longer felt unworthy of receiving it. His hand flutters at your waist. You take a shuddered breath, pressing closer into his embrace and deepening the kiss. In his distraction you take him by the wrist, encouraging him to touch. There’s an immediate, reverent grip at your hip, kneading over your clothes.

This is what you’d been longing for. The feeling you couldn’t transpose; that which people have long tried to capture. The esoteric, giddy anticipation and joy that bubbled between two people on the precipice of something bigger than themselves. Even with an affinity for stringing words together you are scarcely able to describe it. Immense and overwhelming, light and dark, tender and everything in between.

Kei pulls away for breath with a low, vibrating hum, wearing a smile that you thought you’d never see outside of your memories. Almost boyish when he looks at you. The distance is an inch too many but it is just that—an inch. “Eager,” he teases, only to kiss you again, twice as eager.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

But love doesn’t only exist in stories.

You remember that, now.

[ezariumi]

The full autumn themed illustration I made for Morning Sun: An Asahi Seasons Zine @/MorningSun_Zine (TWT/IG). I wanted to convey both the warmth and coolness of fall at once with Asahi at the center of it all.