Rivalry: Kyotani/Mad Dog (NSFW)

Pregnancy: Atsumu

You’re two months pregnant and absolutely glowing. There’s a nervous excitement in your every breath, your hand constantly drifting over your still-flat belly as if to check that it’s real. That there’s really a little life growing inside you. A little Miya, curled up and getting bigger by the day.

You’re in the passenger seat of the car, heading toward your very first ultrasound appointment. The windows are down, and the soft spring breeze is curling through your hair as the late morning sun streams through the windshield. Everything feels light. Hopeful. Surreal.

Atsumu is driving one-handed, his other resting on your thigh, thumb tracing idle circles against your leggings. He hums quietly to the radio, lips twitching into a smile every time he glances over at you.

“Y’know,” he says after a moment, “I been thinkin’ about what kind of nose they’ll have. Hopefully yours. Mine’s too pointy.”

You let out a soft laugh, the kind that bubbles up without effort. “As long as they don’t have your drama.”

“Hey!” he protests, though he’s still smiling as he squeezes your leg. “They’re allowed a little flair. They are mine, after all.”

You roll your eyes fondly, fingers tangling with his at the next red light. He lifts your joined hands to press a kiss to your knuckles before driving on.

When you pull into the clinic parking lot, your nerves start to set in—low and creeping. It’s your first time seeing the baby. Hearing a heartbeat. It makes everything feel suddenly, painfully real.

The waiting room is quiet, with soft instrumental music playing and the smell of hand sanitizer hanging in the air. You’re seated beside Atsumu, your knees bouncing ever so slightly as your mind races ahead. His hand is still in yours, firm and grounding.

When the nurse finally calls your name, you squeeze his fingers a little tighter.

The exam room is dimly lit, calm, with a monitor beside the table and soft instructions given as you lie back. You wince slightly at the cold gel, heart pounding in your ears as the technician glides the wand over your stomach.

She squints at the screen. Tilts her head.

Then her eyes widen slightly.

“Oh.”

You stiffen. “What? What is it? Is something wrong?”

She’s quick to reassure you. “No, no—everything looks good. It’s just... you’re having twins.”

Silence.

Atsumu leans in closer, eyes squinting at the screen. “Twins?”

“Twins,” the technician repeats, pointing to two distinct little shapes. “You see here? Two sacs. Two heartbeats.”

Your gaze locks onto the screen. Two. Not one. Not the tiny flutter you’d been preparing for, but two.

A sudden wave of panic crashes over you.

“Two?” you echo, your voice a shaky whisper. “Like... two babies? At the same time?”

The technician gently clears her throat. "Well, it’s a little early to know for sure if they’re fraternal or identical, but yes—twins."

You feel your breath hitch, the room growing smaller around you. “That’s two car seats. Two cribs. Two births. Two newborns crying at once—”

Your hand grips Atsumu’s forearm, eyes wide as your mind races. “I don’t—I wasn’t ready for two. I barely wrapped my head around one.”

You’re still staring at the screen when Atsumu shifts closer to the bed, his hand still resting lightly on yours.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Breathe for me, okay?”

You turn toward him with wide, overwhelmed eyes. “Tsumu... that’s two babies. That’s two of everything. What if I can’t—what if I’m not enough for both of them?”

“You are,” he says instantly, without hesitation. “You will be. We will.”

But your hand flails toward his forearm like it needs something to latch onto. “This is your fault. You and Osamu. You cursed me with twin genes!”

He stares at you, stunned. “What?! How is this my fault?”

“Because you’re a twin! That’s how!”

The technician offers a gentle smile, still watching the monitor. “Actually, twins are likely influenced by the mother’s genetics. So if anyone ‘passed it down,’ it’s likely you.”

You blink slowly. “So... it’s me?”

Atsumu exhales—relieved. “See? I didn’t do this! You doubled down on your own.”

Your head snaps toward the technician, eyes wide and blinking rapidly, a storm of disbelief swirling behind them. You don’t say anything—but your look says plenty.

The technician catches the expression immediately and offers a placating smile, lifting her hands lightly. "I’ll give you two a minute," she says gently, already stepping toward the door, and quietly slips out of the room, pulling it closed behind her with a soft click.

You drop your head back onto the exam pillow with a muffled groan. “I don’t know how to do one baby. Let alone two. That’s double the crying. Double the diapers. Double the college funds.”

Atsumu leans down until his forehead presses softly to yours. His hand finds yours again, grounding you with the warmth of his palm and the way his thumb strokes soothingly across your skin.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and gentle. “Breathe. We’ll figure it out.”

You don’t answer right away, eyes still locked on the monitor where two flickering heartbeats pulse in rhythm.

He kisses your forehead, slow and reassuring. “We’ll go one diaper at a time. One bottle at a time. One late-night rocking session at a time. We’re gonna be okay.”

Your lip trembles. “Are we?”

He smiles, brushing your hair back from your forehead. “I’m not lettin’ you do this alone. You’re stuck with me, baby. Me, and the two little monsters we made.”

You laugh wetly, a mix of shock and affection tangled in your chest. He leans down and kisses you again—cheek, then jaw, then temple—before turning to look back at the screen.

And in the glow of that monitor, with two tiny heartbeats tapping out the rhythm of your future, Atsumu squeezes your hand and whispers:

“They’ve already got the best mom in the world. The rest’ll be easy.”

You sit up slightly and reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug, your chin resting against his shoulder. “Thank you,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion. “I needed to hear that.”

The Saga: Tsukishima x Reader Pt. 3 (Pt. 1)

Being on a level in which you were ‘okay’ with Tsukishima Kei was odd.

You still teased each other sure, but that was simply in both of your natures. There was a lack of venom; a lack of hatred in the jabs you took at each other. It was just simply something that you weren’t used to. Ever since that night where you ‘confessed’ to him, he’s began treating you with a sense of neutrality. The change was small, but it was very much impactful.

Even other people were starting to notice it.

“You two seem to be doing better,” Yamaguchi had commented once, while you were giving him and Kei some advice on an English assignment. It was a sort of abrupt comment, said while Kei was off getting a drink from a nearby vending machine, and one that you didn’t expect. It caused to you look up in slight surprise. Yamaguchi stuttered at your expression.

“N-not that you- you two had an-any trouble in the beginning-“ Your laugh cuts off his rambling, “Please, Yamaguchi-kun, don’t pretend like Kei is the nicest person to be around.” You chuckled, watching Kei from afar waiting for his drinks. You didn’t realize, but you were smiling. “But you’re right. We’ve kind of come to an…” You pause, trying to find the right word for it, “Understanding.”

And you really had. You had asked him to start treating you better, and he did. On the nights that he could, he would walk home with you, join you on dinners, and all in all was just more amicable.

You were happy with this evolvement, but that didn’t mean you were satisfied with it.

Because it seemed to bring up so many questions.

You knew that Kei liked you, and you knew that he knew you liked him, yet nothing ever came of it. You were both in that were place, a kind of limbo between just being friends and being more than that, and you seemed perpetually stuck; unable to decide to come down, or march on forward. And Kei wasn’t helping.

He never brought up that night. In fact, it seemed as though he pretended it never happened, and that bothered you. You knew that you shut it down that night, and you would do it over if given the choice, but you couldn’t tell whether he wanted to put in the actual effort to start it up. And while you never had the guts to bring it up with you two doing so well, you could tell that it lingered in the air between you two. Like an awful smell that grew and grew more potent with every moment you ignored it.

But what could you do?

Nothing. You couldn’t do anything about it. You were never one for emotional confrontation, and you’d avoid for as long as you possibly could. If you had the choice between not knowing and being happy, and knowing then being embarrassed and crushed, you’d take not knowing any day.

Yes, because that seems very healthy.

You’re torn from your thoughts when you feel a soft knock to the top of your head. You look up to a suspicious looking Kei.

“What are you thinking about?” Over the past couple weeks, you’ve grown pretty good at masking your facial expressions; so instead of heating up at the idea of telling him that you were in fact thinking about him, your expression remained light and neutral as you quickly thought of a white lie. “About how your tall ass is blocking my sunlight. Move.” You push at his legs, moving him out of eyeline, knowing that he’s rolling his eyes at you.

“I’m going to be leaving for the weekend. Volleyball finals.” He’s extremely short with his sentences. It’s almost as though if he saves his words for the possibility of insulting someone or something. Still, you’re quite used to his abrupt nature, so you nod.

“Tough competition?”

“Should be.”

“You’ll be fine.” He looks down at you, face still passive and neutral as ever.

And if you were being completely honest, you were getting tired of neutrality.

“I didn’t ask for reassurance.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “It’s called being polite, asshole.”

“Insinuating that I’m worried about my skills for the finals, is polite?” Kei has a kind of glint in his eyes, and a sort of upward tilt on his mouth when he tries to start an argument or tease you. Something that used to drive you crazy a couple of months ago, is now something that you realize you yearn for.

You can’t help but smile back at him. A wide teasing one, and it made your stomach flutter.

“If that’s your interpretation of what I said, maybe you’re projecting.” Kei is about to respond, when the bell to signify the next class rings; one of the only classes you two don’t share. You go to pick up your things.

“I’ll be heading home early today. So I’ll see you later, yeah?” Kei only nods, and with that you’re only somewhat charged conversation dries out. You do your best to hide your disappointment and begin to trudge to your next class; slouched and unsatisfied. The whole class is a blur while you try to settle the slush of agitation at the situation and yourself, because you’ve let your emotions block your education once more. The lunch bell rings but you still haven’t settled yourself.

You walk out of the classroom knowing that you’ll need to teach yourself the lesson once you get home tonight, trying to find a quiet place to sit and relax before your next period. Usually, you’d sit with your group of friends or even Kei if you found him, but you seriously wanted to avoid the possibility of someone asking questions on why your face was on a permanent and unmovable downturn.

And it would’ve gone so well had whatever God not have different plans for you.

“Hey it’s her!” It’s a yell full of excitement and amazement. Like the kind you’d hear at a zoo or festival. It surprises you a little, but the boy’s voice was definitely not directed to you anyways. Probably some girl he’s had eyes on, or something like that. You don’t turn around and keep walking towards the stairwell.

“Hey stop!” The voice again.

Okay, that felt a little directed towards you.

You look around, to find a lot of people staring at you and somewhere behind you.

Shit. Those calls were for you, weren’t they?

You slowly turn around, trying to keep your grimace at a minimum when you spot the source of the voice. A short, ginger-haired boy with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a person waving at you like a maniac as he jogged towards you, being accompanied by a taller dark-haired boy that seemed to have a permanent look of disdain on his face.

Like night and day.

“Can…Can I help you?” You ask meekly, your eyes shifting to the other students heavy and unyielding stare, extremely confused as to what they wanted. You couldn’t shake the thought that the both of them looked somewhat familiar…

“I’m Hinata Shouyo! And this guy’s name is Kageyama!” The ginger pointed to himself and his friend respectively, and then it clicked. “And we’re—”

“You’re Kei’s teammates, aren’t you? From volleyball?” Hinata smiles wide, nodding enthusiastically, while he goes to open his mouth when Kageyama cuts in. “You really do call that pretentious shit ‘Kei’.”

It wasn’t even a question, moreso a statement of bewilderment as you hear Hinata’s hiss of warning to the taller player. You didn’t know how to respond, only laughing nervously with a hint of strain in your voice. “Force of habit I guess? Listen, I really gotta—”

“Wait, we need your help!” That made you pause. What could they possibly need you for?

Did something happen with Kei again?

You wait for him to continue. Hinata takes a deep breath like he’s been preparing for this. You have to hold back a slight chuckle at the ridiculous amount of effort he seems to be putting in.

“Your first language is English right?” Ah. Immediately you knew where this was headed.

It was quite clear that you were a foreigner. Your Japanese wasn’t perfect, and there was the more obvious hint that you weren’t Japanese. As well, being in the countryside didn’t help you in looking in-place.

Far from it actually.

Most days you stuck out like a sore thumb. But you didn’t mind it as it never really caused you any harm or benefit. What it did cause though, was an increase in people thinking you were some kind of Messiah in English.

Yes you were in an advanced English class, despite being a first-year, but still. The assumption in itself got you a lot of requests for help with test prep, assignments, readings…

Hell, Kei’s asked you to look over something at least once.

Your expression turned tired as you gave a simple nod. They seem to sense your mood shift. “W-well, we both have this huge assignment due, and you probably know we have the nationals this weekend,” You remember Kei mentioning it earlier.

He never said it was the nationals though. Must be pretty damn important.

You’re a little upset he didn’t tell you just how important it was.

“—We don’t want to let the team down, but if we don’t finish it, we can’t go! Will you help us?” Hinata’s pleading places you back in reality, looking into the desperate eyes of the two boys. Kageyama passionately yells out a ‘Please!’ causing you to step back a little in surprise. You hesitate, unable to keep their unyielding gaze. You really want to tell them that you can’t, make up some fake situation you urgently need to attend to.

But Volleyball is really important to Kei, and you don’t know if you could be at the hands of the team’s loss. Even if it is second-hand.

Plus, these two terrors seemed unrelenting.

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your eyes a little. “I… Guess I could look them over?” You could’ve sworn you saw stars in their eyes.

The next few moments were a slew of praise, thanks and plans becoming instantly created as to how you were going to your evening.

And your lunch.

Managerial Duties: Nekoma

"Absolutely not."

Yamamoto lets out a dramatic groan, throwing his head back as if you’d just crushed his dreams with a single stomp. “C’mon, manager! The captain of the boys’ soccer team was pissing me off, and I just thought we could flaunt the fact that we have a hot girl manager!”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “I’m going to not try and take that as an offensive statement.”

“But think about it! If we show off our amazing manager—who, by the way, is way cooler than any other team’s manager—those other guys will be so distracted, their defenses will crumble before we even start playing!”

Yaku lets out an exasperated groan, smacking Yamamoto upside the head. “Do you hear yourself? You sound like an idiot.”

“I’m thinking strategically!” Yamamoto argues, rubbing the back of his head with a deep frown. “It’s all about getting in their heads before the match even starts! They’ll be so busy staring, they won’t know what hit them!”

Kuroo, who had been listening in with an entertained smirk, finally cuts in. “You sure that’s gonna work? Sounds more like you’re the one who gets distracted by a cute face, Yamamoto.”

“Hey, hey, hey! This isn’t about me!” Yamamoto quickly defends, flailing his arms as Kenma sighs beside him, eyes still glued to his game. “This is about our team having a clear mental advantage.”

Kenma lets out a slow breath, thumbs lazily pressing at his screen. “I don’t think anyone is intimidated by your ‘mental strategies.’”

You cross your arms, fixing Yamamoto with a deadpan stare. “So, your plan is for me to just… stand around looking pretty while you all practice?”

Yamamoto brightens. “Exactly! You just have to stand there, maybe flip your hair a little—”

“Okay, you can stop talking now.” You cut him off, shaking your head as Kuroo bursts into laughter beside you.

“C’mon, manager, just think about it!” Yamamoto pleads. “You wouldn’t even have to do anything extra! Just be your natural, intimidating self!”

“I don’t think standing still counts as intimidation,” you reply flatly. “And I already have an actual job managing you guys. I don’t need to add ‘team mascot’ to the list.”

Kuroo drapes an arm lazily over your shoulder, grinning. “Oh, but what if we paid you extra?”

You raise an eyebrow. “With what money?”

“Uh.” Kuroo blinks, looking to the rest of the team. “Yamamoto, do you have money?”

“I might have enough for a convenience store snack,” he mutters, checking his pockets. “But that’s beside the point!”

“You hear that?” You turn to Yaku, feigning disappointment. “They were gonna bribe me with convenience store snacks.”

“Pathetic,” Yaku agrees, shaking his head.

Yamamoto throws his hands in the air. “Fine, forget the money! This isn’t about bribery, it’s about team pride! Think about it! The Nekoma basketball team has a manager, the badminton team has one, even the track team has one—but none of them have a hot girl manager! But you’re here! We can use that to our advantage! We can—”

“Yamamoto.” You cut him off again, your patience thinning. “If I hear one more word about me ‘flaunting myself,’ I’m making you run extra laps after practice.”

Yamamoto stiffens, mouth snapping shut immediately.

Kai, who had been quietly observing, finally speaks up. “Yamamoto, maybe try thinking of a plan that doesn’t involve embarrassing our manager?” His voice is calm, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Lev grins, nudging Fukunaga. “I dunno, I think it’s kinda funny.”

Fukunaga smirks before leaning in and whispering something to Lev, who immediately bursts out laughing.

Yamamoto groans. “See? At least some of you get it!”

“Not really,” Kai corrects. “We just enjoy watching you dig yourself into a hole.”

The silence is almost peaceful—until Kuroo nudges your side again. “Still,” he muses, a teasing glint in his eye. “You do look pretty intimidating when you’re pissed.”

“Well, maybe you guys should stop pissing me off.”

Kuroo snorts before shaking his head. “Yeah, right.”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “If I quit being manager, you all only have yourselves to blame.”

Kenma hums, finally looking up from his game. “Yeah, but you won’t.”

You glance at him, frowning. “How do you know?”

He shrugs. “Because you care too much.”

The rest of the team goes quiet. Even Kuroo, ever the instigator, doesn’t argue. Yamamoto looks at you hopefully. Yaku smirks. Kai shakes his head fondly, and Fukunaga snickers at whatever he just whispered to Lev, who is still laughing.

You sigh again, rubbing your temples for what feels like the hundredth time that day. “I’m still not doing it. Now get off your asses, we have work to do.”

Yamamoto groans in defeat. Kuroo chuckles. And Yaku pats your shoulder with a satisfied nod. “That’s our manager.”

For What It's Worth (Tsukishima x Reader Pt. 2)

It’s been a week since it happened.

A week since you’ve spoken to him.

Seven days since you felt his corrupt lips on you. Since you’ve felt his poisonous yet addictive hands.

The whole situation had been burned into your memory the minute you walked out of his door. Seven days you’ve been in complete emotional turmoil.

You’re nothing short of furious. You’re furious over the fact that all this happened over a stupid photograph, you’re furious that you allowed it to happen for so long, you’re furious that you can’t forget his stupid smirk. His figure leaning over yours, the look in his eyes making you see red. But for the most part, you’re furious over the fact that you can’t bring yourself to truly hate him.

You can’t hate Tsukishima Kei. No matter how hard you try. You can’t stop yourself from feeling your insides heat up when you remember his lips on your neck, your fingers combing through his hair. The tiny sounds he tried to repress when your lips were locked on his. The shivers that rake your body when you pass your fingers on the almost healed hickeys on your neck.

You’d be lying if you said that it hasn’t made you lose sleep.

But he lied. He lied through all of it. Kei didn’t like you. Hell, you doubt he even could even give you the time of day. That bastard only cared for himself. He’d do anything to win, to get what he wants. No matter who he hurts along the way.

He was selfish.

You don’t know why you’re so surprised now. It’s not like you didn’t know this fact. You’ve seen the way he interacts with others. Whether it be his classmates, his volleyball team, Yamaguchi, or even Akiteru. He never once cared for their feelings.

You can’t be around someone who treats other humans like that. You refuse to.

You’ve avoided him like the plague. You pretend like you don’t know who he is during school and lock yourself in your room at home. Tsukishima’s mother had come back a couple of days ago, so you had to say that you weren’t feeling well to avoid having dinner with them. You didn’t even talk to him for the rest of the project. Just sending your part of the work you had completed, and he took care of the rest. You’ll be forever grateful that you didn’t have to present that assignment. You really didn’t know how you would manage that. Of course, there were times when you would cross paths in the corridor, because to your dismay its impossible to avoid someone you live with, but you did your best to see right through him. You refuse to meet his eyes, to give him any sort of chance. He doesn’t deserve it.

Another week passes like this, then another and another. By the time a full month passes, it’s become routine. He doesn’t see you and you don’t see him, just like when you first started living with his family. Your anger has faded significantly over the course of the month, but there’s still some unchecked emotion swirling around in the deepest parts of your self conscious. Whether you want to believe it or not, Kei had become part of your life. A tiny one, but a part nonetheless, and without him, it almost seemed dull. Like something was missing from your day. Empty. You assume it’s because you never got closure from the situation.

Yeah, that’s why.

You’re thrown out of your thoughts when you hear your name called from a distance. You stop your exit from the building, when you see familiar friendly face waving in your direction. You feel a soft smile force it’s way on your face.

“Yamaguchi-kun, what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to be late for practice?” You ask as when he reaches your person. He rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “I told Tsukki to tell the others I was going to be late.” The sound of Tsukishima’s name leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. No matter how sweetly Yamaguchi can say it.

“Oh. Well, did you need something?”

“Yes. Actually, it’s about Tsukki.” You feel yourself tense up slightly. “I just figured you would be the best person to ask considering you’re around him the most.” Is that really how he saw it?

The thought gives you pause. You had to admit that from a distance it did look like you were close to Kei. Closer than others at least. You’ve talked during and between classes, sometimes waited for him to finish practice and walk home with him. If people didn’t witness the insults you used to constantly hurl at each other, and the glares of pure annoyance and hatred, they probably would have thought you two were friends.

Maybe even more.

You shake off the thought as you’re about to tell Yamaguchi that you haven’t spoken to Kei in a month, and that you know nothing about anything that has to do with him but decide last minute to hold your tongue. You were curious to say the least. What could be bothering the unbothered? “Is something wrong with him?” Yamaguchi looks off, thinking for a minute.

“Well, I’m not sure, that’s what I came to talk to you about. Over the past month he’s been acting off.” You tilt your head slightly.

“How so?”

“He’s been acting cold lately. More distant. Picking more fights with the rest of the team. He’s more irritable. He’s letting little things bother him.” Yamaguchi lists off. You snort slightly.

“Yamaguchi-kun, that’s how Kei usually acts. I’d start getting worried when he stops acting like that.” Yamaguchi gives you an uneasy look. “I still feel like somethings wrong. So do the rest of the team. Something is definitely bothering him. His performance in games is also being affected. It’s almost like he can’t focus.”

Could it be about before?

No… He couldn’t possibly be upset about what happened… Could he? You subconsciously shake your head. You can’t bring yourself to believe that he could. Kei was the reason all this shit happened in the first place. But, looking at the boy in front of you, you can feel your heart sink. Yamaguchi really was a good friend. You could see the genuine worry in his eyes as he spoke about Kei. You have no idea how Kei managed to gain a friend like him. One of the worlds greatest mysteries, you muse.

“I just wish he would talk to me.” Yamaguchi says, defeated. You wanted to say something, anything to help him out of his miserable state. You decide on one thing that minute.

You needed to talk to Kei. To tell him to get over himself and stop fucking over everyone around him. That whatever is going on with him needs to be dealt with him and him alone.

Maybe you could get that closure you wanted in the process…

“I’ll talk to him, Yamaguchi-kun.” You see Yamaguchi eyes flicker with something you could only assume was hope. He’s about to thank you when he hears the late bell ring. Yamaguchi turns his head to the school, obviously not expecting the conversation to last this long. “Go, I don’t want to hold you any longer. I’ll talk to him as soon as he gets home.” Yamaguchi flashes you a boyish smile, before shouting a quick thanks and jogging over to the gymnasium. You let out a sigh of relief as he jogs away.

During the walk home, you can’t help but feel a pit in your stomach.

~~

The more you think about it, the more irritated you get as you wait patiently (or impatiently) for Kei to return. Kei’s mother had left once again, leaving just you and Kei in the house, like usual. Over the course of the months you had gotten used to being by yourself, so you really didn’t mind it anymore. However, by being constantly alone, you were left at the mercy of your thoughts.

And all of your thoughts were consumed by Kei.

It felt like all of the emotions you had laid to rest had come back in the few hours you were left alone. But you have self control, and unlike Kei, you’re able to keep your emotions in check.

You hear the sound of the front door opening and closing. Before everything happened, he’d usually announce his arrival, but now that you two aren’t speaking, he just enters and walks straight up to his room. You take a small breath. You can feel your heart thrum nervously as you try to catch up to him.

Well, it’s now or never.

“Oi.” You start, trying to sound unbothered as possible, when you’re anything but. You watch as he stops walking and turns around slowly. Kei gives you a look you can’t decipher, but you can tell that he’s surprised you’ve said anything to him. You don’t want to give him time to think about and get straight to the point. You want to be done as soon as possible and go back to ignoring him. But you hesitate under his stare, giving him an opening. His gaze hardens, as you watch the grip on his bags tighten. You stand your ground. You’ve seen and witnessed his micro aggressions firsthand; it’ll take a lot more than this to intimidate you.

The air around you two is tense. The emotions that were swept under the rug are out in the open, suffocating you.

“Well, this is interesting. Deciding to talk to me now? I’m so grateful you’ve chosen to bless me with your words.” His cold words are laced with so much venom and bitterness that you almost take a step back. You’ve never seen this before. The Kei you knew was always calm and collected, smart with his choices. Knew what to say and to do to play people right where he wanted to. This Kei seemed more… emotional? Unhinged?

You don’t know. But the look he’s giving you isn’t exactly filling you with confidence. Still, you stand strong. You won’t let this asshole make you vulnerable. He’s done it once before; you won’t let it happen a second time.

“Don’t get too happy. I don’t want to waste my breath talking to you. I’m only doing this because Yamaguchi is worried about you, and unlike you, I actually care about his feelings.” Kei looks away at the mention of his best friend. The tiny action brings you slight satisfaction. “He told me you’ve been acting off lately. Picking fights and acting like an all-around asshole. Now, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need to get your shit together.” Kei scoffs, gazing down at you. Patronizing. Your fists clench.

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” He had said it with such coldness, you actually had to fight a shiver running down your spine.

“I wouldn’t have to if you acted like a decent fucking human.” You snap right back. Kei takes a step toward you. You don’t back away. He leans slightly, making it so you’re at eye level in a way that is so obviously condescending.

“Stop acting like you’re such an angel. It’s pissing me off.” His honesty surprises you, but you don’t let it show. You know Kei wasn’t easy to anger, so you knew you were getting somewhere. But, at the same time, his sentence bothers you.

From the very beginning, you always tried to be nice to people you’ve met here. You wouldn’t call it sucking up to others, but you were slightly nervous people wouldn’t like you. During your program that anxiety had faded, but being that Kei was the first person you met who was your age, he significantly decreased your confidence. So, in turn, when school started you were the kindest you could be, always studied the hardest you could, and so on. You had made a name for yourself, one that Kei didn’t seem to like.

“It’s easy to act like an angel when you’re the devil incarnate. And you have no right to say anything about my behaviour, you prick. I’m not the type of person to use others to get what they want. I’m not the type to bring others down to feel better about my sad sack of a life. And I’m definitely not the type that would take advantage of someone to win. So, I suggest you have a cold hard look in the mirror before you go criticizing me.” You bite, voice filled with anger. It’s like all the emotions you’ve held in the pits of your stomach are now flowing through your veins. Each item you list off is like rocks falling off your tense shoulders. You stand taller, move closer, and refuse your eyes to leave his.

The hall is quiet for a while, but it’s the loudest silence you’ve ever heard. So much tension and emotion hanging around in the air. You and Kei share a staring contest, both breathing slightly heavy. Even if you wanted to break the gaze, you couldn’t. Kei’s hard glare had so much emotion, so much that you couldn’t figure out. You can’t help but bring your mind back to when this moment felt a little too familiar…

You wait for Kei’s reply, knowing that not even demons straight from the pits of hell can stop Kei from saying something, anything, back. But to your utter surprise and disbelief, he backs away. You can’t hide your confusion as he stays silent, lips in a thin line and a look in his eyes you can’t make out, as he turns around and walks away. You stand there, slightly gawking as you watch him retreat up the stairs. Brain frozen until you heard the door to his bedroom close.

…

What the fuck just happened?

Did Tsukishima Kei, THE Tsukishima Kei, just walk away from an argument? Without an insult, or even a sarcastic comment?

Did you just win?

…

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won.

You can’t help but still feel… Off. You had gotten what you wanted. To say something and have him be silent, but it’s definitely not as satisfying as you expected it to be. Not like the hours you used to spend daydreaming about a moment like this. You felt empty. Like you were expecting more.

To have him care enough to respond.

You feel tears start to well up in your eyes.

Never in a million years, would you have expected this.

You were crying over Kei. Over that sick bastard.

Why did you feel like this? Why did you feel so disappointed when you watched him walk away? You shouldn’t need him to care. You don’t.

So why are you so sad?

You put your face in your hands, willing the need to scream out your frustrations to leave.

Even like this, he still wins.

~~

It’s been a couple days since your talk with Kei. You had pushed down all of your newly found feelings right back down into the depths of your soul.

Like that worked so well last time.

You were done with him once more. You didn’t want to have to deal with these new feelings. Or him in general.

Just a fresh start. Without Kei in the picture.

You had expected things would be exactly the same with him. He’d ignore you and you’d ignore him. Like clockwork. But ever since your argument, the atmosphere around you two has changed. Into what, you weren’t sure, but it was definitely off-putting.

And extremely frustrating.

The very next day after your argument, Yamaguchi had told you that whatever you said to Kei must’ve worked, because he’s started to return to his old self, (Whatever that means). And while you were happy to see Yamaguchi smiling, you weren’t able to get the pit in your stomach to leave.

New problems you didn’t expect were starting to arise.

Whenever you and Kei had the displeasure of being in the same area, you’d feel his eyes on you. Staring at you. His eyes locking onto you in a way that left you utterly confused, and completely flushed at the same time. You couldn’t help your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him in the halls of his house, or at school.

You weren’t able to stop the pulse of heat that would rush through your body either.

Either way, to say you were a little displeased with this advancement would be an understatement. But, what could you do? Just march up to him and tell him to stop staring?

Normally you would. But with what happened last time, you were a lot more than hesitant. You’d dig your own grave and bury yourself alive before having the tiniest chance of crying in front of Kei. That was more than your worst nightmare.

So, you decided the only possible solution was to get your mind off him. Just like the previous month, you’d go back to acting like he didn’t exist. If you could do it once, you could do it again.

You were feeling confident about your plan. At least until someone up in the heavens decided to completely fuck you over just for the hell of it.

It was the end of school day, and while most of the students rushing out the doors eagerly, excited that they had the rest of the day to themselves, you were clearing out your entire locker frantically. Each second passing with you getting more and more nervous of the outcome you hoped to any of the Gods that wouldn’t happen.

Oh God, please tell me I didn’t do this…

Yes, you did. You had lost the keys to the house. You almost punch a hole in the nearest wall, but you do slam your head against your locker. What did you do to deserve this?

You take a couple of deep breaths, trying to find any other possible solution then asking Kei for his keys. Maybe… picking the lock? Or popping a window opening? You sigh heavily. Who were you kidding? You could barely open your phone most of the time. You weren’t exactly keen to brandish your breaking and entering skills. To make matters even worse, all of your friends either had clubs or had already went home. You were far too awkward to call them up and ask if you could crash their night, and far too tired to wait for those who had clubs up until eight at night.

You let out an agonized whine, seeing no other option other than to drag yourself to the boy’s gym. As you approach you could hear sounds of boys screaming and laughing. They must still be stretching, as you hear no noises of balls slamming into the ground. You take a deep breath as you stand in front of the doors. Just get in, take what you need and get out. Even though you keep repeating that mantra in your head, you still found yourself on the other side of the doors, too nervous to open them.

“Could you let me through please?” You hear a soft voice from behind you. You whip around to find a rather beautiful looking third year. She must be their manager. You didn’t realize you were staring until seconds later. “Oh, yes. Sorry about that.” You give a nervous chuckle as you move out of the way. She walks up the stairs gracefully and goes to open the doors but stops, turning to you.

“Did you need something?” You tense up slightly at the question, “I need to talk to Kei.” You somehow managed to say evenly. The third year looks at you confused for a second, before her eyes light up in realization. “You mean Tsukishima-kun?” You nod. You usually forgot that most people (Well, everyone apart from his family) called him by his last name. Everyone except you. You pause now, thinking about it.

Why did you call him by his given name?

Why did he let you?

“Follow me then.” You were about to tell her that you really didn’t want to, but she slid the doors open with practiced ease. She walks in, ignoring two particularity rowdy voices yelling ‘Kiyoko-san!’, as she motions you to follow her. You gulp, and not wanting to disrespect a senior, you duck your head to enter the gym in shame. All eyes are suddenly on you, curious. Your heart beats slightly faster under the eyes of the team. You were never good at being in the spotlight. You manage to glance in Kei’s direction.

If looks could kill, you’d probably be six feet under the ground right about now.

He always made it clear that he didn’t want you anywhere near the gym when he was practicing, making sure that if you had to wait for him, he’d make you wait in the library.

You never understood why, but you didn’t question it.

“Tsukishima-kun. Someone’s here to talk to you.” Kiyoko spoke for you, only adding to the embarrassment that was this situation. All eyes that were on you, snapped to Kei’s form. On the outside he appeared unbothered, but his eyes spoke the true annoyance he was feeling. He makes no sound as he briskly walks to you, grabbing your wrist quite tightly, making you wince, letting a hushed hiss escape your mouth as he practically drags you out of the gym. The second you leave everyone’s prying eyes, you whip your hand anyway from him, practically snarling at him. “That hurt, asshole.” He makes no comment at that, only glaring at you.

“Why are you here?” He sounded genuinely frustrated. Join the club pal.

“I lost my keys.” He scoffs. “I’m failing to see how that’s my problem.” You clench your fists. You really didn’t think this through. What were you expecting? For him to be a nice guy and hand you his keys? Willingly? Yeah, right.

Well you aren’t giving up without a fight.

“It’ll be your problem when you find your window smashed in.” Empty threats, and Kei knows it. Kei sighs tiredly, and it only makes you more upset.

“Listen, either wait until my practice is over, or figure it out. Why don’t you go and ask one of your little friends? I’m sure they’d love to have you.” He spits out the last part, and you narrow your eyes at his pettiness.

“Oh, trust me. I wouldn’t have come to you if I had any other choice. But sadly, here I am talking to you. Now, you could do us both a favour if you could just stop being an all-around jackass for once and let me borrow your damn keys.” You try to say without hitting his very punchable face. Succeeding, you add. Kei only rolls his eyes, “Tempting, but I’ll pass. I’ll text you when I’m done. If you’ll excuse me.” He smirks that god-awful smirk, before walking back to the gym, leaving you enraged. You go to attempt to say something but find yourself at a loss for words.

Why even try?

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. Fuck him. Was your only thought as you left the school grounds.

No way in hell were you waiting for him. You doubt you could even look at him without sending him to the emergency room.

This is going to be the death of you if things continue like this.

~~

You took your sweet time walking your way back to the house. Admiring the changing colours of the trees, stopping by the convenience store. After all, you did have a couple hours to kill while you wait for the asshole to come back from practice. You had only wasted two hours by the time you reached the house. The time you had spent trying to get your mind off him only left you more frustrated. He really knew how to piss you off.

Yes, it was your fault that you had lost your keys, and he didn’t necessarily have to give his to you, but what harm could it have done? What did he expect you to do? Lock him out of the house? You pause. Not a bad idea. Your thoughts only continue as you cursed the existence that is Tsukishima Kei, and sat outside the steps of the house, pulling out your phone and start playing around with it, trying to forget about the slight wind chill that comes with the start of Fall. You sat there, trying to cover your legs from the wind blowing past them. Every time you got a strongest burst of wind, you thought back to Kei.

I hope a volleyball smashes him in the face. A smile finds it way onto your face as you think of that. As time passes, boredom fills you as you feel yourself getting slightly drowsy. Being angry really wasn’t helping you conserve your energy. You felt your eyes getting heavier with every passing second. It wouldn’t be a problem if you closed them for a bit, would it?

Apparently, it would.

~~

You don’t even realize that you’ve dozed off, being woken by a buzzing in your pocket, your shivers and a dark night sky. God, how long had it been?

Groggily, you answer your phone, sleep clouding the need to read the caller ID. “Hello?” Your voice was surprisingly hoarse. Probably from lack of use.

“Where are you? You aren’t in the library and I’ve searched everywhere.” You could only pinpoint that aggressive tone to one person.

“K-kei?”

“Where the fuck are you?” Normally, you would’ve come back with something, but you were far too tired to think of anything smart to say. “I’m outside the house.” You hear him curse under his breath. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” And with that, he hangs up.

You sit there, slightly dazed before shivering. The night sky wasn’t keeping you as safe from the brisk wind like the sun did, and you were still in your school uniform, which consisted of a light sweater and a skirt. You removed your phone from your ear, only to be blinded by the notifications blocking your phone screen.

You had twenty-five missed called from Kei, and more that thirty messages. You scroll through them.

**I’m finished with practice. **

You aren’t in the library, where are you?

**Seriously, answer me. **

where are you?

God damnit answer my calls

I swear if you’re at home

I’m coming home and if you’re not there, you will be sorry

You furrow your brows as you scroll through the rest of them. Was he… Worried about you?

Your thoughts are cut off by severe shaking. Damn it was cold. You take your sweater off, leaving you in short selves, to cover your legs. You figured it was better than nothing, but it did leave your arms to the strong winds. You curse outwardly.

After a couple minutes, you see the asshole himself, jog towards you, face slightly red and panting heavily. Was he running? You don’t think too much about it as you hear the heavenly noises of the keys jingling.

“Idiot. I told you to wait for me.” Kei breathes out, you scoff at him calling you an idiot. “You said w-wait or figure it o-o-out.” You cringe at how vulnerable you sound. The stutter definitely doesn’t help. He huffs out a sarcastic laugh. “And this is figuring it out?”

“S-s-shut up and open th-the damn d-door.” He doesn’t respond as he finally manages to open the door. You let out a breath of relief as you try to get up, only to have your knees buckle; sitting down in the crouch position you were in plus the cold weren’t exactly the best for your joints. You almost fall but feel warm hands grip your waist to prevent it. Your head turns to find Kei’s extremely close, staring down at you. The same expression he wore when you glance at him looking at you. You feel your face slightly flush as you step away and walk through the doors, welcoming the warmth of the house. You hear Kei walk in after you, closing the door behind him.

A few seconds of silence pass before another violent shiver passes through you. Guess it’ll take a little more than the house to warm you up. You hear a sigh, before feeling those warm hands grip your wrist for the second time today. This time was a lot gentler than the last. Your brain freezes as Kei pulls you to the living area and sits you down on the couch before leaving to retrieve something from the other room. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any stupider. You go and pull shit like this.” You hear his slightly distant voice, and you grit your teeth. This asshole just couldn’t help himself, could he?

You go to defend yourself when you feel something warm and fluffy lay on top of you. Kei had just thrown a blanket on you. All comebacks die in your throat as he turns to you and fixes the blanket to make sure not a single area of skin is exposed. Kei makes sure to not meet your eyes when he’s satisfied with his job.

“Stay here. I’m going to make some tea.” You’re at a loss for words as he turns to the kitchen.

Are you in some sort of parallel universe or something?

Was Kei… Taking care of you? Maybe he just feels bad because he left you in the cold, but still. You had never seen this side of him before.

This boy was just full of surprises. Whenever you thought you had seen it all, he comes back with more.

Confusion swirls your thoughts, but your broken out of it when you see Kei walk back into the room with a tray. It consisted of two cups of tea and two servings of strawberry shortcake. Kei’s favourite food. You remember the day you found out it was his favourite food, you remember the teasing and the laughs, with Kei turning slightly pink and telling you to shut up.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss those days.

“Surprised you’re still here. You usually have trouble following simple instructions.” He jabs, as he sets your tea and cake on a table in front of you. You narrow your eyes at him. “Well I did make a promise to the never follow the Devil.” You find it hard to say your comebacks with your usual venom. He only rolls his eyes in response. Kei sits across the table on the floor, having his portions in front of him. He stares at you. “Eat.”

Usually, you would’ve said no, because you hated listening to him, but you were starving. The snacks from the convenience store could hold you for so long. “How do I know this isn’t poisoned?” You ask, suspicious. He couldn’t be this nice to you for no reason, there has to be a catch. Kei doesn’t even look up at you as he responds, “If I had that, I wouldn’t waste it on you, that’s for sure.” You click your tongue, and with half hearted annoyed look, you go and take a sip from your tea. Surprisingly, Kei did know how to make some good tea. You felt the it go down smoothly, warming you from the inside out. And the strawberry short cake wasn’t at all bad either; a little sweet for your taste, but you’ll take it.

The two of you ate in silence, the tension getting to be too much for you until you decide to break it. You had decided that minute that things needed to change. You couldn’t take this anymore. You needed the truth. “I don’t understand you.” You can’t manage to look at him, poking at the rest of your cake, but you know he’s looking at you.

“You go from not wanting to talk to me, to annoying the hell out of me, to ignoring me again and now this. I just don’t get it. What do you what from me? I need to know, because if things keep going on like this, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.” A beat of silence follows your speech.

“I don’t want anything from you.”

The evenness of his voice makes a piece of your heart break. You didn’t know he had the power to destroy you with a simple sentence until he just did. You could tell that you had somewhat of a deranged smile plastered on your face. Something akin to disbelief and pain. You take a deep and shaky breath in. “You know, for someone who ‘doesn’t want anything from me’, you sure do go the extra mile to include yourself a whole lot in my life.” Kei remains silent, and for some reason that sets you off even more.

You’ve come to realize that you despise when he does that. That you’d much rather have him bite back or snarl an insult at you, when just a month ago you would’ve given anything to have him rendered mute.

Maybe its because it gives an easy reason to hate him. But right now, he’s given you more than enough.

“So, if you don’t want anything from me, why do you go so out of your way to bother me? Make me so angry I want to rip your head off? Make fun of anything that has to do with me? Stare at me every time you get a chance?” You’ve stood up now, throwing the blanket off you in the process, voice getting louder with ever question. You were no longer cold; Instead, overheating with frustration. But you weren’t even close to be done. You chuckle humorlessly.

Kei just sits and listens to you, face blank and unable to read. The look causes tears to well in your eyes, but you will them with all your life to not let them drop.

You don’t even have the time to try and stop the next words that come out of your mouth.

“Why did you kiss me, if you don’t want anything from me?” You hear your voice crack at the last question. You were beyond furious at this point, and your rage had caused you the throw out the real reason you were upset. The real reason behind all of it. The reason you had tried to hide so badly from yourself.

When Kei had kissed you, you liked it. And you were devasted that he didn’t.

You liked Tsukishima Kei. You liked that sarcastic asshole. And there was nothing good about it. At the epiphany, you can’t stop the slightly strained laughs that escape you.

What a ridiculous situation you’ve gotten yourself into.

“I should’ve left the night it happened right? I should’ve known that since you hate me with your entire existence, of course you’d choose the one thing that would cause me the most emotional turmoil. Well congratulations! I no longer want anything to do with you! You’ve won, okay?! You’ve gotten me to fall for you, and subsequentially ruin me!” You laugh at little more, not even realizing the tears falling down your face.

There’s a long silence between you two, only being filled with your heavy breaths. You wait a couple seconds for a response, an apology (yeah right), simply anything. But he stays silent, not even giving you the courtesy of looking you in the eye.

At the feeling of tears warming your cheeks, you turn and attempt to go to your room, mortified that your literal worst nightmare is occurring.

When you for the umpteenth time today feel a hand grab at your wrist, pulling you with a force. A sense of urgency.

You turn to him to immediately feel his lips on yours. Your eyes widen in surprise. With a sense of Déjà vu, you feel your entire body freeze.

His lips are forceful on yours, like he’s putting every emotion he’s ever felt into that kiss. It was quite literally searing, as if you feel your lips burn. And despite every rational part of your mind screaming at you to slap him, bite him, kick him in the balls or any other action that would result in him backing away from you…

You find yourself kissing him back with an equal amount of ferocity. Even going as far as to forcefully deepen the kiss. On your terms, unlike the last time. You can’t stop the moan that enters his mouth when you feel his tongue rub on yours.

You him groan through the haziness. Whether in satisfaction or surprise, you’re not sure. But all you’re sure of, is that you could never get enough of that sound. Your fingers go to rub his neck, then travelling into the soft curls of his hair, tugging hard whenever you felt he wasn’t close enough. You feel his hands, the hands you’ve thought about for nights on end, going to wrap around your waist and under your shirt, lightly pressing into the small of your back, which causes a heavy shudder to go down the length of your spine. You could feel the pride ebbing of him in waves, to much he earns a rather harsh tug.

When you both pull back for air, a string of saliva following you both, you find his long but strong arms wrapped around your waist, and yours his neck, pulling each other closer. Silence is filled by both of your pants.

“Still want nothing to do with me?” He asks, foreheads still leaning on each other; Still so close you can feel is breath on your cheek. Only amplified by the tear streaks. You continue to close your eyes as you pull away further, cheeks heated and red, knowing full well that he’s got you right where he wanted.

“You… Are such an asshole.” You breathe out, yet still choosing to remain in his arms. He rolls his eyes. “And you’re a bitch.” His tone was so smug, like he had just won the lottery. You couldn’t help but threaten him with attempting to remove his hands from your waist, to which he applies strength to his hold, keeping you in his arms.

You’re almost scared at how your heart flutters at the action. You scoff, ignoring your feelings of dread at how easy he managed to get you back in his hold.

You were certain that this man would be the death of you. The thought brings a sort of clarity to you.

“Where do we go from here?” You ask, still slightly breathless. Kei only gives you an indifferent shrug.

“I know what I want to do.” He mumbles, taking his hands once again and sliding them under your shirt, feeling his calloused fingertips on your back. You immediately grab his wandering hands. He sighs at you stopping him, giving you that look of ‘what an inconvenience’ again.

Even in moments like these, he still manages to irritate you.

“You’ve done way too many things for that to be your choice tonight.” You say, only seriousness in your tone. You’ve acknowledged your feelings sure, but that doesn’t mean you’ll do what he wants when he’s screwed you over like this. You refuse to be used like that.

“You hurt me, Kei. In more ways than one. A simple kiss won’t fix anything. If you want us to be on better terms, you need to start by showing that you’re sorry.” Kei gives you look that you can’t decipher, before letting go of you to fix his glasses that were starting to slide down his face.

“What do you want me to do?” Honestly, you were taken aback by his abruptness. You didn’t expect him to agree so soon. You didn’t even know what to say.

“I’m not sure yet.” You reply honestly, and he gives you an annoyed gaze, to which you narrow your eyes. “That’s something you’ll need to figure out on your own, but you need to start with changing your attitude towards me.” To your surprise he takes in what you were telling him, and nods. Then immediately goes to leave the room. You sputter and jog after him.

“Where are you going?”

“To figure it out. I’ll be doing that for the rest of the night so make sure to tidy up the living room.” You hear his voice distantly, to which you turn to the living room, remembering the plates, cups and blanket that was now your responsibility.

“I can’t believe I like that asshole.” You grit to yourself, beginning the process of cleaning up.

~~ Bonus:

You finally finish cleaning up the living room, and retreat to your bedroom practically flopping on your bed. You realize that you were still in your school uniform, so you groaned as you got up to get dressed into for bed. When you go to your dresser trying to find something to sleep in, you find something that isn’t yours on top of it. It was a large black binder.

Curious, you pick it up and sit back down on your bed. You open it and find a small note at the beginning.

Show this to the team and I’ll kill you.

You flip through the first couple of pages. It was a photo album.

Tens and tens of photos with Kei as a child. The same child that makes your heart swell three sizes bigger. A lot of volleyball related photos, and a lot of ones with him and Akiteru. You flip through more and more, feeling the biggest smile on your face.

You didn’t go to sleep for a while, you wanted to commit each photograph to memory.

For what it’s worth, Tsukishima Kei did have hope. Whether he knows it or not.

Unrequited Love: Oikawa (Bonus)

The team was loud, as always.

Oikawa, now freshly showered and looking somewhat like himself again, was in the middle of being teased by Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“So, Captain, let’s talk about your tragic love life,” Matsukawa said, slinging an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders.

Hanamaki took a dramatic sip of his drink. “Yeah, we all knew she was gonna break up with you before you did. What does that say about you, huh?”

“Shut up,” Oikawa groaned, smacking Matsukawa’s arm off him, though there was no real heat behind it. You could see his mood rising with every passing moment.

“Hey, at least you still have volleyball,” Matsukawa said, raising his glass like he was making a toast.

“Right, the one true love of your life,” Hanamaki added with a smirk.

Oikawa sighed dramatically. “You guys are the worst.”

You watched from the side, letting their banter wash over you. The ache from earlier was still there, a dull weight in your chest, but at least Oikawa wasn’t sulking anymore. That was the important thing.

A presence appeared beside you, and you didn’t even have to look to know it was Hajime.

“I’m impressed,” he admitted, crossing his arms as he watched Oikawa shove Hanamaki. “I tried to get him out of bed earlier, but he wouldn’t budge.”

You smirked, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “That’s because you don’t know how to sweet-talk him, Hajime.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. If I tried sweet-talking Oikawa, I’d never hear the end of it.”

You snickered. “Yeah, he’d probably take that as an invitation to propose.”

Hajime shook his head, amused, before glancing at you, his expression shifting into something more knowing. “So,” he said casually, “are you going to make a move, or are we just going to keep going in circles?”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “Please, you should’ve seen what he told me earlier.”

Hajime raised an eyebrow.

You turned to him, pressing a hand to your chest mockingly, and sighed dramatically. “He looked me in the eye, Hajime. And do you know what he said?”

Hajime waited.

“You’re a good friend,” you deadpanned, voice dripping with bitterness.

Hajime winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “So, no, I’m not making a move. Not when he clearly doesn’t see me that way.”

Hajime was quiet for a moment before shrugging. “You never know. He’s an idiot. You might have to spell it out for him.”

You huffed, watching as Oikawa dramatically whined about something to the others. “Yeah, well… I think I’ve done enough for one night.” Then you hear a whine of your name. You look over to Oikawa's pleading face along with Matsun's and Makki's devious ones.

“You promised me they would give me a break!” Oikawa suddenly called out, his voice carrying over the chatter of the team. His eyes locked onto yours, pleading dramatically, though the glint of betrayal was exaggerated.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “C’mon, guys, give him some slack,” you called, raising your hands in surrender.

Hanamaki gasped in mock offense. “Oh, so now you’re defending him?”

“She’s going soft,” Matsukawa said, shaking his head.

“I am not going soft,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

Hajime, beside you, smirked before stepping forward. “Actually, now that I think about it… didn’t Oikawa almost cry in first-year when he lost his favorite knee pads?”

Oikawa whipped around. “Iwa-chan.”

“Oh, right!” Hanamaki’s eyes lit up. “The ones with the little stars on them?”

“You guys swore to take that to the grave!” Oikawa cried, scandalized.

“I don’t know, man,” Matsukawa said, leaning back with a grin. “Kind of sounds like a moment that deserves to be remembered.”

As the teasing escalated, Oikawa slumped in his seat, arms crossed, pouting like a child. “I hate all of you.”

You laughed at the whole exchange, and when you glanced back at Oikawa, expecting him to still be sulking, you caught something different—something small, almost imperceptible.

He was smiling.

It was barely there, just a slight tug at the corners of his lips, but it was real. And for a brief moment, as his gaze lifted, he met your eyes.

The world around you blurred, and warmth spread through your chest. You swore you felt your heart stutter, just for a second.

And then, as quickly as the moment had happened, you cursed yourself for it.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, tearing your gaze away.

Oikawa was still laughing with the others, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

You exhaled, shaking your head, willing the butterflies away.

Hajime, still standing beside you, didn’t say anything, but when you glanced at him, he was looking at you with a knowing expression.

“Not a word,” you muttered.

He smirked. “Didn’t say anything.”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder, but he only chuckled in response.

Rivals: (Haikyuu! x Reader)

A sharp-edged, slow-burn collection exploring the tension-filled dynamics between Reader and various Haikyuu characters. Fueled by banter, unresolved competition, and the kind of chemistry that crackles under the surface, each drabble blurs the line between hate and something dangerously close to desire.

1. Tsukishima 2. Terushima 3. Atsumu, Part 2 (NSFW), Part 3, Part 4 (NSFW), Part 5, Part 6 (NSFW) 4. Akaashi 5. Kuroo, Part 2, Part 3 (NSFW) 6. Sakusa 7. Oikawa 8. Kyotani/Mad Dog (NSFW) 9. Tendou 10. Iwaizumi, Part 2, Part 3 (NSFW) 11. Shirabu 12. Kita 13. Suna

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Favourite Positions: Aone

It always starts slow with Aone.

Not because he’s hesitant—no, he knows what he wants—but because he treats you like you’re something he’s afraid to break. Like you’re porcelain in his calloused hands, delicate and precious. Every movement he makes is calculated, controlled, like he’s memorizing the way your skin feels under his touch.

He looms over you, body heavy and warm, eyes so intensely focused it makes you squirm beneath him. But he doesn’t move until you nod, until you reach up and brush your fingertips along his jaw, silent permission passed between you.

Then he breathes.

Like he’s been holding it in this whole time.

His hands slide under your thighs to pull you closer, gentle but firm, fitting your hips against his like puzzle pieces that only ever made sense when pressed together. And the second he’s sheathed inside you, it’s like the entire world stills.

“You okay?” It’s the first word he’s spoken since his mouth met yours.

His voice is rougher than usual—breathless, already wrecked—and the weight of his body above you is grounding. Comforting. You nod, and he leans down to kiss your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth like he’s trying to calm himself down.

You can feel how tense he is. Not from discomfort, but from restraint. He could take you fast. He could chase his own release and be done in minutes. But he never does. He moves slow. Deep. His strokes drag like honey, hips rolling into yours with deliberate pressure, drawing out your pleasure with an intensity that’s overwhelming in the best way.

And all the while, he never stops looking at you.

“You’re beautiful like this,” he murmurs, so quietly you almost miss it.

It’s not like him to speak, but tonight there’s a flush high on his cheeks, a fire behind his eyes that he can’t hold back. His forehead presses to yours. His nose brushes along your cheek. His fingers find your hand and lace between them, anchoring you to him as if he's afraid you'll disappear.

“Don’t look away,” he says softly, thumb stroking over your wrist.

Like he wants to memorize the way your face twists when you moan, the way your eyes flutter when he hits that spot just right. And when your breath hitches and your legs tremble around his waist, he doesn’t pick up the pace—he slows down. Drags it out. Holds you tighter, kisses you deeper.

It’s not just sex with Aone.

It’s connection. It’s adoration. It’s devotion.

And when you finally come undone, back arching, nails clawing at his shoulders, he doesn’t let you fall apart alone. He follows seconds after, burying his face in the crook of your neck like he needs to hide the sound of his own release.

The silence that follows is warm. Safe.

He doesn’t pull away.

Just rests his weight on you, arms locked around your waist, holding you close like he never wants to let go.

“You’re okay?”

The same question again, but this time it’s softer. Sleepier.

And when you nod, tangled up in his arms, you hear the smallest, faintest exhale.

Like he’s home.

Husbandry: Oikawa

The first thing you register upon waking up is warmth. A steady, lingering heat against your back, an arm draped lazily over your waist, the rhythmic rise and fall of a chest pressed flush against you. The scent of something familiar—clean linen, faded cologne, a hint of salt from the sea breeze slipping through the open window—fills your senses. Oikawa’s grip tightens instinctively as you shift, pulling you impossibly closer, his face buried against the curve of your shoulder.

“Tooru,” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep.

A muffled groan is his only response. His body is heavy against yours, limbs tangled in a way that makes movement difficult. You try once more to shift, but his arms only tighten around your waist.

“Nope,” he grumbles, his voice rough from sleep. “No getting up yet. It’s illegal.”

You huff, already knowing how this is going to go. Sunlight spills in through the sheer curtains, painting the walls of your shared apartment in soft golden hues. The distant sound of life beyond the bedroom—muffled chatter from the streets below, the occasional car passing by, the faint melody of a street performer’s guitar—reminds you that the world is awake, moving. And yet, Oikawa remains completely unfazed, as if time doesn’t exist beyond the warmth of your shared bed.

“I have things to do,” you say, though your voice lacks conviction.

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Lies,” he mutters against your skin. “You have exactly one obligation today, and that’s to stay right here in bed with your incredibly handsome husband.”

You roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” he hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “It’s scientifically proven that getting up too early makes you ten times more cranky.”

“More cranky?” you repeat, raising a brow. “Are you saying I’m cranky now?”

He hesitates.

“…No?”

You elbow him lightly, and he lets out a dramatic wheeze, flopping onto his back as if you’ve mortally wounded him. “Oh my god, the betrayal,” he groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I let you into my home, my heart, my bed—and you stab me in the stomach.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, but you’re already smiling.

“I’m wounded.”

“You’re fine.”

He peeks at you from under his arm, brown eyes still hazy with sleep but glinting with amusement. “You’re not even going to check?”

“I know you’re fine.”

He lets out another exaggerated groan before reaching for you again, pulling you back into his embrace. This time, you let yourself sink into his warmth, the sound of the city fading into the background. His fingers trace lazy patterns against your arm, absentminded, soothing. The morning breeze flutters through the curtains, carrying with it the scent of freshly baked bread from the bakery down the street, mingling with the salt-tinged air of Barcelona’s coastline.

“You really don’t wanna stay in bed with me?” he asks after a while, voice softer now, more genuine.

You sigh, pressing your cheek against his. “I do, but I also don’t want to waste the whole day.”

Oikawa scoffs, shifting to press a kiss to your temple. “It’s not wasting if we’re spending it together.”

“You always say that when you want me to be lazy with you.”

“Because it’s true,” he argues. “C’mon, just a little longer? Please?” He tilts his head, lips brushing against your jaw as he whispers, “For me?”

You groan, knowing you’re done for. Oikawa is many things—dramatic, annoying, way too smug for his own good—but he’s also incredibly hard to say no to, especially when he’s warm and sleepy and clinging to you like this.

“Fine,” you mumble. “But only for a little longer.”

A victorious grin spreads across his face as he pulls you flush against him, tangling your legs together under the sheets. “See? I always win.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And you love me.”

You roll your eyes but don’t bother denying it. Instead, you let yourself relax into his arms, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the hum of the city outside, the quiet comfort of being wrapped up in him. The world can wait a little longer.

Maybe, just maybe, staying in bed with him isn’t the worst way to spend the day.

Gurllll

So we're in college and tsuki get dragged into a party, but he ends up chilling in the back just drinking or smoking and listening to music

That's where we first spot him,and like we knew each other from the high-school team but not really know each other y'know?

Then they end up talking and chilling and playing some gamesss like truth or dare or sm

Idk I'm kinda imagining it just chilling and having deep conversations and talk about things in common

Gorl I gotchu ;p ~~

Anon Ask: Tsukishima

Tsukishima had no idea why he was here.

Correction—he knew exactly why. Yamaguchi had guilt-tripped him into coming, saying something about how he needed to "expand his social life" and "stop being a recluse." He hadn't been able to argue much when he was already agreeing just to get his best friend off his back.

Of course, Yamaguchi wasn't even here. Some excuse about having an early morning study session had conveniently surfaced at the last second; Leaving Tsukishima alone at a party he had no interest in attending when a better use of his Friday night would be staying in his dorm with his headphones on, zoning out to some documentary about prehistoric marine life.

All he felt was betrayal.

This was the same useless chatter, the same shallow interactions, the same pointless noise that made him want to walk right back out the door. He leaned against the back wall, drink in hand, half-listening to whatever trash playlist was blaring through the speakers. His gaze occasionally flickered over the room, not because he was interested in anything but because it gave him something to do other than stand there like an idiot.

He didn’t recognize most of the people here. He barely cared to. Drunken laughter rang in his ears, a couple stumbled past him, and someone yelled something incomprehensible from the other side of the room. His patience was already wearing thin. His foot tapped against the ground, a subtle tick of irritation.

Then, through the shifting bodies and dim, flickering lights, his gaze caught on someone who was familiar.

You.

You were weaving through the party, clearly uninterested, your expression giving away just how much you didn't want to be here. There was something oddly reassuring about that—someone else in the same predicament. A memory clicked into place after a few seconds. Second-year. Same class. You'd sat a row over by the window, always making snide remarks under your breath whenever the teacher said something ridiculous. He'd smirked at a few of them but never actually talked to you.

And now, here you were. And you’d seen him too.

Your eyes met across the room, a quiet recognition passing between you. Then, without hesitation, you started making your way over. He briefly considered looking away, pretending he hadn’t noticed, but it was already too late.

"Hey... Tsukishima, right? We had a class together in second year." You stopped beside him, tilting your head slightly. "Never thought I’d see you at a party. Let me guess—you lost a bet?"

He huffed, taking a sip from his drink. "Close. My friend thought I needed to ‘socialize more.’"

You deadpanned. "That’s disgusting. I’m sorry for your loss."

A snort left him before he could stop it. "Yeah, well. He’s not even here."

You raised a brow. "He ditched you?"

"Told me he had ‘studying’ to do." Tsukishima made air quotes with his free hand. "Like that wasn’t his plan all along."

"Brutal." You leaned against the wall beside him, arms crossed. "And yet, here you are. Holding up your end of the deal like a good little soldier."

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. "For now."

You smirked, turning your gaze back to the chaotic mess in front of you. "This place is awful."

"Yeah." His gaze flicked over the crowd, unimpressed. "Not sure what’s worse—the music or the people."

"Tough call," you mused. "The music is bad, but at least it doesn’t try to hold a conversation with you."

Tsukishima let out a quiet, amused exhale. "Fair point."

A beat passed before you sighed, shifting your weight. "You wanna get out of here?"

He glanced at you, gauging if you were serious. He wasn’t usually the type to just leave somewhere with someone he barely knew. But this was unbearable. And you? You at least had a functional brain in your head.

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t hesitate. "God, yes."

Neither of you said anything more as you slipped through the party, out the door, and into the cold night air. The shift was immediate—the tension of the party dissipating the moment you stepped onto the sidewalk, the dull hum of the city streets far more tolerable than whatever chaotic mess was happening inside.

You walked without a real destination, just following the quiet rhythm of the night, side by side under streetlights casting long shadows across pavement. The city wasn’t asleep, but it was quieter now, the occasional car passing by, a few other night-walkers making their way home.

"So, what’d you do to deserve being dragged here?" he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I thought I could be like everyone else our age." You sighed dramatically. "Clearly, I make poor choices."

Tsukishima huffed. "Yeah, you and me both."

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The streets were mostly empty, the occasional passing car throwing streaks of light across the pavement. You kicked a stray pebble down the sidewalk, watching it bounce before speaking again.

"So, are you still doing that volleyball thing?"

Tsukishima looked at you, unimpressed. "Wow. Stalker much?"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, totally. I spend all my free time keeping tabs on people I barely spoke to in high school."

Tsukishima let out a quiet scoff but found himself smirking despite himself. "Right. Of course."

You nudged him lightly with your elbow before switching topics. "So, what’s your major?"

He glanced at you, wondering if you actually cared or if you were just making conversation. "Geology."

You raised a brow, a knowing look crossing your face. "Dinosaurs, huh?"

Tsukishima tensed. "What? No. Rocks."

You let out a low laugh. "Sure. Totally not related."

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips twitched. "What about you?"

"Oh, I don't really have one. I prefer to just float. You know, jack of all trades and that jazz."

Tsukishima found that slightly funny, though he didn’t show it beyond a slight shake of his head. "So you plan to graduate with nothing, then?"

"That’s the dream."

The back-and-forth was easy, natural. Neither of you felt the need to fill every silence with meaningless words, and yet, the conversation kept flowing. Complaints about professors, stupid classmates, the absurdity of group projects—somehow, it all felt lighter when it was shared.

At some point, your steps slowed, and you both lingered near a street corner, neither of you saying anything for a few beats. A breeze rolled past, cool against the lingering warmth of the night, and you rocked back on your heels before tilting your head slightly to glance at him.

"You know," you started, drawing out the words, "I half-expected you to be a bigger ass."

Tsukishima blinked at you, arching a brow. "And I expected you to be less annoying."

You let out a low laugh, shaking your head. "So we’re both disappointed. Great."

Tsukishima didn’t answer, but he huffed out something close to a laugh, subtle but there. The conversation had been nothing but casual snark and easy complaints, but there was something oddly comfortable about it—like the banter wasn’t just passing time but filling a space that neither of you had realized was empty until now.

Eventually, you stopped at the entrance to the subway station. You looked up at him, hands stuffed in your pockets, shifting slightly on your feet before smirking.

"I like complaining about things with you," you said, voice lighter than before. "Let’s do it again sometime."

And then, just like that, you turned and disappeared down the stairs.

Tsukishima stood there, watching as the train rumbled to life, departing into the tunnels with you on it.

A sigh slipped out of him, and he muttered to himself, "... yeah... me too."

Then, like an idiot, it hit him.

He didn’t ask for your number.

Great.

Nanami and Itadori core <3

Writing Prompt #2923

"Come on! Everyone needs a spunky little sidekick!"

"Yeah, and it's super cute and silly until the spunky little sidekick dies because they think they're grown up enough to handle the job I've spent the last 20 years doing. Not. Happening."