The First Meet Self-Aware!Caleb

NSFW Alphabet: Young Johnny Lawrence

Warnings: NSFW

NSFW Alphabet

A= Aftercare (What he's like after sex) Younger Johnny definitely has no clue what aftercare is at first. He's not used to affection and receiving love, over time you'll start to show him how important aftercare is to both of you. After that, his go to aftercare would be making sure you use the bathroom after sex, cleaning you up, then cuddling naked until you both fall asleep.

B= Body Part (His favorite body part of yours) Your boobs for sure, that's the first thing he looks at, more like gawks at. While in missionary he'll use each hand for each boob to hold on to, he's so gentle because he doesn't want to hurt you.

C= Cum (Anything to do with cum basically) He doesn't have a preference, although the thought of cumming in you is very appealing to him, he doesn't know what he'd do with a kid while he's a teenager.

D= Dirty Secret (Johnny's dirty secret) Johnny really wants to make love to you in his car, it's a wonder it hasn't happened yet. He wouldn't admit it, but he's kind of nervous to even ask and he doesn't know when or how to approach the topic.

E= Experience (How experienced is Johnny) He definitely doesn't know much especially if you were his first, but he knows a lot from his imagination that he just uses on you. Though he makes it seem like he's more experienced for the first time you both have sex.

F= Favorite Position (His favorite position) Definitely missionary, he's a simple teenage hormonal boy who likes to get the full view of his girl while he makes her take his cock.

G= Goofy (Is he goofy during sex) Not really, he tends to be more serious during sex, especially if it's a very romantic and intimate moment with you, then he's the opposite of rough or goofy.

H= Hair (Does the carpet match the drapes) Definitely. Johnny will pretty much always have the mindset that it's more manly to have hair down there. But he did experiment when you first got together, he tried shaving incase you decided to have sex or go down on him, but he quickly decided it wasn't for him.

I= Intimacy (How romantic is Johnny during the moment) Johnny isn't very romantic, but that doesn't mean he isn't sweet during sex. He cares about his pleasure, but he also has the need to make sure you're taken care of. Now, if it's a special day (anniversary or valentines), then he'll be more romantic. Rose petals around the bed, some pretty candles lit up... if you're both alone at his mom and stepdads house, then he'll even run you both a bubble bath afterwards. He truly cares about you, and while he may have a hard time expressing it, he still tries for you.

J= Jack Off (Masturbation) Johnny does it all the time, when he's not busy with you or karate of course. But if there's no possible way to get off then he'll get off by the thought of you or some of your Polaroid pictures he has.

K= Kink (How kinky is Johnny) Johnny is not kinky. He's more caring and careful during sex, but there has been moments when he's jealous or angry and he takes it out on you, but he would never hurt you physically. He does like to lightly wrap his hands around your neck, and he loves to slap your ass and dig his nails into your hips while you ride him, but never beyond that.

L= Location (Favorite places to do the do) Johnny's favorite place to have sex is in his room, where no one can distract either of you. He doesn't like the idea of being in public and having sex, but if he needed a quickie or something made him jealous, then that would quickly change.

M= Motivation (What gets Johnny going) Your mouth really gets him going. The way you subtly bite your lip while you're working on homework, or the way your lipgloss makes them more noticeable. It turns him on so much and he can't help but imagine your lips wrapped around his cock.

N= No (A turn off, something Johnny would never do) He would never bring hitting into sex, with how he's treated by his sensei and his step dad, he wouldn't want that pain or trauma inflicted on you, even if you gave him consent to do so.

O= Oral (His preference in giving and receiving) He loves both, but he loves receiving more because of the way you treat him and how you respect his body. You take care of his wants and he doesn't want that to go away.

P= Pace (Is he fast and rough, slow and sensual; etc) Johnny can be both. While he's mainly sweet and sensual in the moment, he can also be very rough and fast. Especially if he sees you around Daniel or any other boy for that matter. He wouldn't tell you who you couldn't hang out with, but he would make it known that he didn't like Daniel talking to you, and if Daniel didn't take the hint, then Johnny would make it known that you were his.

Q= Quickie (Johnny's opinion in quickies/fast and rushed sex) He is always up for a quickie, he would never turn one down. Johnny likes to take his time with you, but that doesn't mean he won't fuck you in such a hurry that you can't speak. You could be anywhere and say you were mildly horny, and he would rush you into the nearest bathroom.

R= Risk (Does he like to take risks) Johnny is definitely a risk taker. If you asked him to try new things then he would for you, but never anything physically harming. You could easily persuade him to do anything for you, except, inflicting physical pain on either of you.

S= Stamina (How long can he go for, and how long does he last) Johnny can go pretty long, well, he prefers to take his time with you. The most he could last would probably be an hour, with a lot of foreplay leading up to actually fucking.

T= Toy (Does he like to use toys) Not really. He prefers for you to use him, hence, you to use his mouth and cock how you like. He would never say no to trying toys, but he just likes the feel and taste of you without them.

U= Unfair (How much does he like to tease, does he tease) Johnny loves to tease you, matter of fact- he constantly does it. He loves to drag out the process, touching you inch by inch, making you beg for his cock before giving you even his fingers. Every time he does it and you whine, he just gives you that same cocky smirk with the comment “what? Can’t take it?”

V= Volume (How loud is Johnny during the moment) Johnny is rarely loud. He gives the occasional grunts, groans, and slight whimpers- but he’s more of a touchy person, so he’d be digging his nails into your hips and grabbing all over you before he’s moaning constantly.

W= Wild Card (Random head-con for Johnny) Johnny has always wanted to lean you over his motorcycle and fuck you raw. When he’s alone and you’re nowhere to be found, he jerks off to the thought of you letting him fuck you raw as he has you bent over his motorcycle. He doesn’t like the idea of it being so out in the open, but honestly, if you were to say yes, he would lose all self-control.

X= X- Ray (Lets see what's going on in them pants shall we) Johnny is a solid 6 inches. He’s not too big, but not too small. He has a good girth too, which really adds to it.

Y= Yearning (How high is Johnny's sex drive) His sex drive is pretty high. If you’d let him, he would probably fuck you every day, twice a day. But on the days that he is extremely horny, he cums quicker. Thus, making it easier for him to fuck you multiple times a day.

Z= Zzzzz (How fast does Johnny fall asleep afterwards) Johnny doesn’t fall asleep right away, he makes sure you’re taken care of before he knocks out. He’ll usually clean you up right after and then hold you close to his chest, rubbing your lower back as you talk about random stuff before finally falling asleep.

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This was like heavily requested soooo here you go!!!

hot for teacher

pairing: shouta aizawa x f!reader summary: You’re not expecting your day to fall to pieces at 8:21 a.m., but life hasn’t really been going your way lately. A string of lackluster dates, followed by two dead vibrators (with missing cords!), and the only outlet left for your mounting sexual frustration—the smut blog you diligently update—has been discovered by the one person you never wanted to find it: fellow teacher Shouta Aizawa. Who might just be the inspiration behind most of the fantasies you post about. content warnings: coworkers-to-lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, forced proximity, there was only bed trope, explicit smut, phone sex, bondage, impact play, degradation, use of slut and whore, D/s, subspace, aftercare

chapters: one two three four five epilogue

chapter one: live 3/31 at 7 p.m. PST

My contribution to the panty fiend Caleb HC

Only Fans

Pairing: stepdad!rafe x onlyfans!stepdaughter!reader

Summary: Rafe finds out a new secret about his stepdaughter and can't seem to help himself. Or Topper gives Rafe an accidental present.

Warnings: 18+, smut, reader does onlyfans, use of dildo (reader), spanking, cream pie, reader calls Rafe daddy.

Wc: 2K

“Man if I was in that house I would be taking advantage. She’s just there begging for it with these videos.” Rafe slows down his pace as he hears Topper talk. “Bet she’s imagining him every time she says daddy. Probably hopes he’ll hear her and do something about it.” Kelce laughs agreeing with his friend. Rafe creeps up behind them looking at the phone they are looking at. What he wasn’t prepared to see was his little step-daughter naked on the screen as she sinks down a huge dildo. His brain short-circuits as he watches you bounce up and down. How your pussy perfectly swallows the dildo with ease. Shit. “What the fuck are the two of you watching?”

The phone clatter ons the tiled floor causing the edges of it to crack. “Fuck Rafe you scared the shit out of us.” Topper picks up his phone inspecting it as Kelce clenches his heart. “Are you fucking sexting my step-daughter?” He stalks forward making his friend take a step back. Topper looks at Kelce for help but the other man just gets up and backs out of the room. “No no. It’s her only fans, she makes these videos and posts them on the internet.” Rafe snatches the phone from his hand and looks through it. He can clearly see Topper was on a website and sure enough there's videos of you. Without thinking he sends the website page to himself and tosses the phone back at his friend.

“Delete that account and if you look or talk about her again I’ll kill you.” Rafe rushes to his truck and sits in the front seat with his phone in his hands. Pulling up the website he creates an account and subscribes to you. “Am I really about to do this?” He mumbles to himself before clicking on the first video. There you are in one of his work shirts playing with your pretty pussy. You tease your clit as you smile into the camera giving it a wink as you sink your fingers in. “Fuck daddy you feel so good.” His dick swells in his pants making it uncomfortable as he keeps scrolling. Video after video there you were fucking yourself all while crying out the word daddy.

Having enough he throws the phone on the passenger seat and races home. All he needs to do is get it out of his system. He’ll watch your videos and fuck his fist until the idea of you is out of his mind. Screw Topper for watching that video. Of course he would find your only fans and enjoy your videos. The fact that Topper, his friend, got to see you like this pisses him off. That should have been saved for him. He should have seen you taking each dildo, watching as you slowly work your way to something that stretches you out for him. But the thing that infuriates him is that you are posting this for others to see. Thankfully every video is solo so he didn’t have to see you fucking someone else.

He slams his truck into park and practically runs into the house. It wasn’t until he was passing your room that the plans divot. Your bedroom door is wide open displaying as you lay on your back with your hand shoved in your panties. You have headphones in so you probably didn’t hear him and your eyes are closed so you can’t see him. He should walk into his room and jerk off to the image of this. Create some scenario where you get on your knees and suck him off. But he’s not that type of man. No he’s the type to walk into your room, lock the door, and climb on your bed next to you. Your eyes snap open at the shift of weight. “Rafe oh my god.” The clunky headphones fall on the bed and he can hear a male's voice.

“Who are you talking to?”The corners of your eyes crinkle. “No I.” You close your mouth and try to move to the edge. He only takes that as a sign to move closer, his hand finding your thigh. “Who is it?” His grip tightens and he pulls you to him. The bed sheets ruffle underneath you as you try to make space. “It’s an audiobook.” Now that was new. Picking up the headphones he takes a listen. A low chuckle comes from him from what he hears causes you to feel embarrassed. “Is that what you think of when you fuck yourself for those videos?” Your eyes widen even more but something in the way he looks at you makes you bold.

“No, I think about you. Wishing you would finally fuck me the way I want.” A huge smile spreads across his face. Now on his hands and knees, Rafe climbs over you. Your back lands on the mattress as his body hovers, barely touching you but enough to drive you insane. “Should’ve just found me baby. Would’ve shown you what a real man feels like.” He emphasizes the point by grinding his hard dick on your thigh. Instinctively your thighs open to welcome him in. You love the way his jeans feel rubbing against your panties. The ridge of the zipper grazes your clit with the slow rocks of his hips. Blue eyes are trained on yours waiting for you to say something.

“Show me.” The words are softer than you intended. “Show me, please Rafe.” Leaning back he watches you breathing heavily. His right pointer finger trails a path from the base of your throat all the way down to the hem of your lace pink panties. He snaps the band, marveling at the way you shut your eyes in pleasure. Allowing him to do whatever he wants. He gets up from the bed ripping the panties off of you in the process. “Why don’t you show me how you think about me? Go fuck yourself on one of your dildo’s.” Your eyes flash brightly at the idea. 

When you first started posting you loved all the comments you would get. Seeing how much someone wanted you turned you on. But the thought of Rafe watching you makes you the horniest you’ve ever been. While also making you super nervous. He makes his way to the end of the bed. Fingers wrap around your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed, forcing you off and to your dresser.

How does he know where your dildo’s are?

He sits down as you grab your favorite one. It’s long but mostly girthy so it stretches you out just the way you like it. The suction cup grips the floor making a noise when you get it in place. Next you grab a bottle of lube. You squirt some on the tip and spread it making sure to make eye contact with him. Your eyes glaze over watching as he pulls his pants down and palms his cock. Shit. Just by looking at him you can tell he’s going to feel amazing. It’s a good thing you picked this dildo since Rafe is like the perfect mirror image of it. There’s a small twitch in his eye almost making you flutter. “Where’d you get that?” You sink down on it, enjoying how it fills you with a delicious burn.

“Was mailed to me at school. A gift I guess.” You don’t really care who sent it. All you know is that it’s the best dick you’ve gotten and that includes real life. Everything about it drives you crazy, especially the large vein going from the tip to base. It feels so good when it rubs against your g-spot. Slowly you bounce on it, your tits bouncing along with you. There’s a drop of precum that falls from his tip. You lick your lips wishing you had him in your mouth. Your heart rate picks up when he stands and walks over to you. This is the moment where he makes you suck him off. Well that was what you were hoping for. What you didn’t expect was for him to pull up by your hair and drag you to the bed. 

He shoves you face first over the edge and gets right behind you. The tip of his dicks swipes up and down slicking himself up with your juices. “Wanna hear a secret?” He’s teasing your entrance with his tip, barely pushing it in before pulling back. You whine out a what, locking your ankles around his back so he can’t fully leave. “You’ve been fucking yourself with a mold of me.” A while back Topper came up with the great idea of Rafe making a mold of his dick for your mom. He didn’t want to do it but his friend had convinced him it would benefit their sex life. Which at that point and still is none existent. Topper handled everything so now Rafe gets why your mom never said anything. He just thought she didn’t care and he wasn’t going to fight over something stupid.

“What!” You scream as he shoves fully inside you. You feel full, the same fullness you just had when you straddle your dildo. Oh fuck he was right. “Fucking Topper must have thought it was funny.” He starts thrusting furiously, spearing into your g-spot with each thrust. “He convinced me to make one of those molds. Didn’t know he sent it to you… got you nice and ready for me though. Might have to thank him.” Your ass bounces as his thrusts increase in pace. There’s a glaze film over his eyes as he looks down at you. A glob of spit falls directly where he enters you. A loud slap echoes the room followed by a loud moan from you.

His hand rubs the bright red handprint forming on the globe of your ass. “Finally got the real thing and can’t even speak.” His right arm lifts up to swat your ass again in the same spot. “Oh god.” A deep laugh comes from his chest, his fingers pulling at the ends of your hair. Tsking, he pulls a bit harder. “That’s not what you usually say.” He grips your hair at your scalp pulling you up-forcing his phone camera in your face. “Come on, princess, say what we both want to hear.” Burning liquid circles your veins as you orgasim peaks and you scream out. “DADDY.” A hard thrust praises you. “Daddy just like that. Please cum I want to feel you.” His grip on your hair shifts to your neck as he records your face. 

“Yeah? Wanna feel your daddy fill you up?” Rafe leans back pushing you back to have your face shoved in the sheets. The phone pans over to where he is essentially destroying your pussy. “Please daddy, cum in me please.” His nails dig into your back as he holds you down so he can fill you up. Slowly his hips come to a halt making sure to keep you plugged up. Shifting back, he adjusts the camera to catch the way his cum drips out of you. His thumb catches some, smearing it on your clit before shoving the finger back in you. Rafe pulls back, stopping the video and sucking his thumb in his mouth.

You watch him over your shoulder hoping he’ll do something else. Just then the front door slams. “I’m making chili tonight!” Your mom yells as she makes her way through the house. She talks to herself as you turn to face Rafe, your stepdad who just fucked the shit out of you. There’s a big smile on his face and he starts to back away. He sends you a wink right before he leaves you in your room wondering how you can act normal around him again. A few hours later you’re scrolling on tik tok when you get a notification. Looking you see it’s from Rafe and something flutters inside you. There’s a video with you at the forefront of it all.

Go on and post that baby. Want your followers to see how well your daddy treats you.

Taglist : @rafedaddy01 @rrafeswhore @10ava01 @selfcontollover07 @akobx @starkeysbebe @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafesbabygirlx @lolasangelz

Okay sir relax, omg.

BUCKET LIST ౨ৎ K.SAIKI X READER

in which the teacher pairs you up with saiki to complete your bucket lists together for a project . what he doesn't know is that you're sick due to an illness and dying (literally) to complete everything on your list.

01. first and last day [REWRITING]

02. first and last day pt.2 [REWRITING]

03. rocky start [REWRITING]

04. why'd you have to be so complicated? [REWRITING]

05. cookie dough gone [REWRITING]

06. light it up [REWRITING]

07. jelly jelly [REWRITING]

08. sour & sweet [REWRITING]

09. do you think it makes sense ? [REWRITING]

10. i guess this could be worse

11. "kusuo"

12. lies

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐖

🏐— tsukishima kei x f!reader

— synopsis: he hates your intelligence in classrooms and you hate his cunnigness at the court. both go at great lengths to defeat each other, but how is it that both of you were the only ones that can help each other be better?

— warnings: swearing, a bit suggestive, enemies to lovers (although kind of enemies)

You slam your paper on his desk.

Tsukishima barely flinches. He removes his headphones and hangs them on his neck, unbothered by your looming presence as he stares blankly at your paper. 96

The corners of his lips tug down, seemingly unimpressed. "Eh."

"Eh? Aw, is little Tsukishima disappointed at himself?"

He looks up at you, stares deeply into your eyes. And for a moment you'd think his domineering gaze would soften as he was overawed by you. But then he smiles, that annoying little shitty, narcissistic smile.

"Actually, not at all (l/n)," his smile is bright, almost genuine, but his sarcasm is radiating. "I got a 98. Not bad, though!"

You swear steam was coming off your body.

"96 at modern Japanese." He says. "Understandable."

"Understandable?!"

"Don't beat yourself up, (l/n). Not everyone's perfect," he leans back. "Not even me. I mean, I'm just being humble. But yeah, not everyone."

"I hate you," you take your paper off his desk.

"Flattered. Really, really flattered. Thank you for hating me, actually. I feel so honored to be hated." He puts his headphones back on and places his elbows on his desk, his chin resting on his joint fists. Tsukishima smiles at you again.

God, his smile is infuriating.

Tsukishima was someone you'd go to great lengths to defeat. He never bothered for your existence when first year began. He didn't even know your name; Didn't even look at your direction. He'd only known it a month later when you were paired to be partners and he decided to be such a condescending brat when he pointed out your handwriting.

At first you ignored it, took it by heart and started organizing your writings on your notes. Then he decided to put all his self-hatred on you and started to discreetly judge you.

Maybe he wasn't even judging you. Maybe he was just staring at your paper, scoffed to himself, shook his head and laughed because you got a better score than him and he was berating himself. But no, he laughed because he thought you were a tryhard and he was a prodigy.

Obviously none of those were confirmed. But he's a man and a man hates it when a woman's happy.

When he smirks you have the urge to rip his lips to pieces.

You walk away from him and sit on your desk, which was actually beside him.

His scent follows your flaring nostrils as you carefully shove your paper between the notebooks in your bag. Tsukishima looks out the window, hiding his smirk, his foot tapping lightly but never making sound. So you put your own headphones over your ears, in hopes to drown out his deafening aura.

🏐 —

"Shit!"

Tsukishima's knees bends the wrong way and almost falls onto his back as he lands on the ground. The ball echoes across the court as it ricochets off the floor. You laugh loudly, and everyone looks at you.

"You're too advanced for the block, idiot!" You say loudly. Yamaguchi giggles.

He rolls his eyes at you as he chases for the ball. Kageyama sits beside you.

"You know he plays horribly when you're here."

"Oh?" You raise a brow. "Is he not used to a girl looking at her?"

Kageyama scratches his nose. "Probably 'cause he hates you."

You laugh lightly. "Kinda nice that I'm here. I get to see him fuck up."

Kageyama snorts. "He feels pressured 'cuz you're here."

"Oh? He said that?"

"No. But I can hear him think."

You laugh and wipe your sweat off. "I'd play with you guys, but his remarks could piss me off and I might, uh, shove that ball up his ass."

When Kageyama laughs again, quite loudly, Tsukishima's head snaps at the bench where you're sitting. Heat rises to his head, his stance losing its usual strength, his arms weakening as he watches you—

Laughing, at some joke you said or Tobio said. Laughing heartily like someone just made the best joke in the world. The way your lips almost reach the wrinkles beneath your eyes. Oh, that's so funny Tobio. You're so funny you should quit volleyball and be a stand up comedian!

He knows you're talking shit about him, too. Idiot. Brat. Showoff.

He had the right to show off. He was better than you.

He was the better thinker; the better scorer.

Tsukishima is better than you.

I'm better than you—

The ball hits the side of his face, his glasses flailing to the side.

The first thing that reaches his ears—your sickening laugh. That monstrous, sadistic guffaw. Tanaka yells from the other side of the court and dives beneath the net to take a look at his face. Nishinoya hovers, hands on his knees, laughing.

"Pay attention, dumbass!" You cuff your hands over your mouth. "Stop daydreaming! It's embarrassing."

He bends to pick his glasses up. Alive, no cracks, frame not broken. He puts it on the bridge of his nose so that he could see your face clearly.

Hideously alluring.

"Do you think of scheming as daydreaming, (l/n)?" his voice, full of disdain, though hidden through feigned sweetness. "Like a child as always. Go back to middle school?"

"Do better at volleyball?"

"I ought to kick the both of you out this court," Daichi says loudly. "Oh wait I can't speak to (l/n) like that. S-sorry!"

Tsukishima sneers, his lips frowning. He approaches the rolling ball, watching as it hits the wall and propells back towards his awaiting feet. When he picks it up, he steals another glance at you talking to Kageyama.

The King and the Brat. The most annoying combination in the entirety of Karasuno campus.

Somehow, seeing you next to Kageyama and being given the nickname as if the two of you were a pair sends a tight rope around his chest that causes it to ache a little. Tsukishima huffs it out, an unsettling in his bones.

Please don't look at me.

The ball flies into the air, and his palm raises just in time to make contact with the ball.

He sees you watch from the corner of his eye, a blurried silhouette, but your figure was familiar enough for him to recognize you. His heart beats a little louder.

🏐 —

No.

Shit. Fuck. No

God damnit. 74.

Tsukishima stares at his paper in horror. In his entire life, he has always gotten two digits on his scores. However, they had always been ninety onwards. Never in the line of sevens. He doesn't know if his horror is displayed across his face. He prays it doesn't—he would die if you saw his expression.

He leans sideways to the right, his eye darting towards the side to peak at your paper.

98.

The english language was something that was easy to learn but never easy in exams. This—despite boasting that english was the easiest subject—was his weakness.

You're too preoccupied to notice his existence. Good.

He turns around to look at the green haired boy.

"Yamaguchi." He whisper-yelled. "Tadashi."

Yamaguchi looks up. "Yes?"

This was it. Years of built up pride, intelligence, boosted ego— down the drain. As soon as he'd ask him the question, it would forever alter the image of himself towards his friend. Tsukishima was no longer the brainy four-eyes of the Karasuno Volleyball Club.

He would now be Tsukishima, the idiot four-eyes.

Maybe I'm overreacting.

He stands up and sits beside the empty chair next to Yamaguchi.

"How- What's your score?"

Yamaguchi looks puzzled as he glances at his paper. "E-eighty eight."

God, this is depressing.

"Um," Tsukishima scratches the back of his neck. "Could you help me with English?"

There it is. His face says it all.

"Don't you even—"

"You, Tsukishima Kei, asking for my help?" He laughs incredulously. "Are you sure? What's your score?"

"Don't want to talk about it."

"Aw, c'mon Tsukki." He pouts playfully like comforting a weeping baby. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

Tsukishima tells him in a low voice. He never thought he could hate Yamaguchi's laugh. But he did, right after he laughed at his score. It wasn't even a failing grade.

"You know who should tutor you though?" He puts his paper in his bag. "(l/n). She's good, y'know. I heard her speak english once. I thought she was from, uh, some foreign country or something."

"She's not even that good." Tsukishima takes off his glasses and wipes it with the corner of his uniform. "She's good with memory but she forgets it right after the quiz like a ditz."

Yamaguchi snorts. "She's the one who got the best score out of all of us."

"Yeah, no thanks. I'd never let her teach me."

"I think you're forgetting I'm right here in front of you." You turn around, placing your elbow and forearm on the back of your chair and look at Tsukishima. "I can teach you."

Tsukishima scoffs. "No thanks. I'd rather repeat freshman year."

"Are you sure?" you pout, placing your chin on the back of your hand. "I can teach you, little Tsukishima."

"I'm not little."

"Yeah but your brain is."

"Yamaguchi, help me out here."

He can't ask for your help. Never ever. Never will he ever ask for your help. Tsukishima can study this himself. He's always studied by himself. He's never needed anyone, and certainly not you. He was independent, cunning as everyone says. Tsukishima does not need tutors.

Up until now.

"Please help Tsukishima study," Yamaguchi looks at you. "He's too prideful to ask but he really needs your help."

Tsukishima stammers. "T-that's not what I meant!"

"Aw, is this true?" You're taunting him. He feels like a child.

"I can study by myself. Fuck off."

You smile at him. In a way that he can't read. It was soft, almost kind, like you wanted to help him wholeheartedly and wanted his english to improve. Then he looked into your eyes and all the kindness in your smile had been washed away by this pity in your eyes that you enjoyed. Tsukishima huffs.

"No need to be shy about asking for help, little Tsukki," you coo. "We'll study in the locker room while everyone else plays. You're skipping practice today."

Tsukishima zips his bag and stands up. He towers over you, covering the sun that blinds you through the glass window. He looks down at your eyes—teasing, condescending eyes. His lips are turned to a frown, which makes you smile even more.

"I'm not skipping practice."

"Too bad. You are. You know, if you let me help you, you'd stop having that distraught face everytime you get your english paper." You take a step closer, neck bent backwards to look up at him. "Yeah, I saw your face."

Yamaguchi nudges his arm. "C'mon, Kei. Ask for her help. You know you need it. Don't be so prideful."

Tsukishima growls. He doesn't say anything yet, all the confidence in him washed away by a score that wasn't even a failing grade. His palm rubs the space between his eyebrows and mumbles:

"Help me."

You lean in, ear towards him. "Couldn't hear that. Sorry?"

"Help me study."

"Are you commanding me or asking?"

"Please help me study."

"Don't mumble, Tsukishima."

"Damn it!" He groans. "Please help me, dearest (l/n)." His voice drips in sarcasm, peering at you through his scratched lenses. "Help me get a better grade at english. Help me stop myself from strangling you! Idiot!"

You lean back, the bottom of your spine resting on your table as your left hand props you up. Tsukishima is almost seething, his eyes widened a little as his anger seethes through his nostrils. You hum, pretend to think, then slap his right cheek twice lightly.

"How kind of you to ask, little Tsukki." You wrinkle your nose at him, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "See you at the locker room."

When you leave, his head turns to Yamaguchi who smiles innocently. Tsukishima almost strangles him instead.

🏐—

The boys are thirty minutes late to practice. Including Daichi.

"It's the sequence of the words, Tsukishima," you point your pen at his test paper. "The spelling's no problem. You're good at it. It's just with how you've formed them together."

They all sit behind the two of you, watching silently. Tsukishima is red from embarrassment as he ignores them.

"What's so wrong about this sequence? It sounds correct."

"Just because it sounds correct doesn't mean that it is correct."

Hinata snorts. Tsukishima's head snaps at it. "Don't snort, dumbass. Last time I checked you got a twenty at your exam."

"You hit a nerve there, Shoyo," Kageyama giggles.

You sigh and slap your hands at your thighs. "Sawamura-san, why are you guys even here?"

He stammers, his back straightening as he fixes his bag on his left shoulder. "Jus–Just wanted to make sure you two will be fine. Let's go guys."

When they leave, Tsukishima relaxes in relief. He stares intensely at his notebook, figuring out the correct answer. You try not to laugh at him, but the sight was entertaining; seeing him suffer brought your heart at ease.

"Figured it out, moron?" You bring your own notebook out, flipping it to the last page you'd written on. "It's really not that hard."

"Shut up, (l/n.)" he says. You make a small sound, similar to "okay!" As you begin to write down on a blank page.

And you're like that for a few hours.

Tsukishima answers the questions you've written for him, and when he asks you for help, you cordially help him without telling him the answers. Then you both go back to formidable silence, doing your own perspective works.

He almost enjoys this newfound environment created with you. Somehow, his body is more tranquil, but at the same time his mind is racing, because you're here. Tutoring him. Tsukishima has always believed that he was one step ahead of you, making sure you were unable to catch up with him. But now he's slipped from that step and you've caught up and you're deriding him.

Nonetheless, you're his only hope right now.

He looks at you.

Your hair is tucked behind your ears and your teeth are currently creating dents at the eraser of your pencil. You're concentrating, seeming like you've forgotten that he's sitting in front of you. And Tsukishima's eyes are extremely blurred, but when he looks at you through the gap between his glasses and forehead, your face was somehow clearer.

"Are you a dog?" he raises a brow. "Don't chew on your pencil."

You huff like you're being scold and place your pencil down. But the chewing didn't last a second as your bottom lip is now tucked between your teeth. Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

"Here," he flips his paper and shows it to you. "Did I do it correctly?"

You take the paper from him and read it. He hopes you're at least slightly impressed, that you're not arbitrating his answers nor think they're half-assed. When your red pen moves into a slant, the corner of his lip twitches upwards. But when you circle the number, he has this urge to shove that pen into your eye.

"Hm, not bad. But not enough." you flip the paper.

70.

Four points less.

"Damn it." You can tell he's disappointed at himself. "You suck at teaching."

"Excuse me?!" Your eyebrows furrow. "Hey, I've spent the past four hours teaching you here, stickhead. The sun's almost down!"

"Do you have to go home already?" He asks. You shrug. "Then we can stay here until they're done with practice."

"Tsukishima, I have freshly cooked doburi waiting for me at home. Do you know what donburi is? Do you know what it tastes like while it's still hot? Fucking donburi, Tsukishima." You whine. "Would you like to study at my place instead?"

You seem to not have processed what you've offered, but Tsukishima has. He's surprised at your comment, watching you look so desperate to get home and eat that "fucking donburi." He waits for a moment until you realize and you do, but it seemed like you didn't care when you lean back and raise a brow.

"Well?"

"Sure."

His quick, almost unhesitant compliance surprises you. Tsukishima adjusts his glasses and brings his headphones out as you both head out the door. You lock it behind you, with Tsukishima already walking ahead.

You pass by the gym. "Sawamura, everyone, we're heading out!"

Tsukishima appears beside you. "We're going."

"To where?" Yamaguchi approaches you both. "Are you going to eat out? Ooh, can you bring food back here?"

"We're going to her place to study." He answers. "We can't come back."

The others seem to hear what he said, because Hinata yells: "What kind of studying are you going to do, Stingyshima?"

"Something that your tiny shit-for-brains can't comprehend." He retorts. "Focus on your receives, squirt!"

You wave to everyone and catch a glimpse of Yamaguchi's smile. You roll your eyes at him and poke your tongue out.

🏐 —

The way home was quieter than you expected.

Mainly because Tsukishima had his headphones on and all you hear was your un synchronous footsteps on the stoned sidewalk. You take small looks at your peripherals to see what he's doing. And, well, he's walking... like every other normal person.

But you're walking side by side and there's this space between you that's so close but also so far away. You feel his heat touching the fabric of your shirt, his hand twitching and just barely grazing yours. Then he speaks:

"You walk like a penguin," he says. "Why are you like that?"

"Why are you so annoying?" you roll your eyes. "I don't point out how you walk."

"That's because there's nothing wrong with my walk," he puts his headphones down, hangs them around his neck. "What? Got a stick up your ass or something?"

"I'll stab you with that stick."

"Gross."

You turn a corner and he follows suit like it was normal for him to follow you around. When you stop in front of your gate and unlock it, he bore no unhestiance as he removed his shoes and entered your home.

There was no one else around. And as soon as Tsukishima entered, you disappeared in his vision. Although, he hears you yell from afar: "Set your bag wherever. Stay in the living room though!"

He assumes you're either changing your clothes, getting a bowl of donburi, or both. He obeys, sets his bag on the floor and sits cross legged on the carpet of your living room, taking his notes out. He sees the sun inching away behind the roofs of the houses near by, waiting for you patiently.

And then his eyes roam to picture frames.

Never would he think that a picture of you smiling would be so endearing. That smile of yours, painting you an angelic aura, like people would never expect that you'd be the devil's descendant. Nonetheless, you were still beautiful.

The picture was you in a ponytail, face doused in sweat; the background, although blurry and dark, looked familiar. But Tsukishima was more focused on your gleaming smile, the way your eyes are almost closed and your lips were pale and your teeth were shiny.

"Hey, douchebag," you sit beside him despite the free space on the opposite of the coffee table, setting down two bowls of donburi. And yes, you had changed your clothes into something comfier. "Let's eat and study."

He never expected that you'd get him a bowl, thought that he'd have to ask or drop hints of him wanting donburi. He takes it though, and it is freshly cooked. He now understood your eagerness to go home.

An hour passes by.

The bowls are empty and set aside. Tsukishima's notes are scattered, hair disheveled from him constantly running his fingers through them. That string of hatred between you has been put aside as you both seem to tolerate one another through this session.

"Tsukishima," you say, almost sternly, placing two cartons of strawberry milk on the table. "It's easy to determine an adverb in Japanese. It's no different in identifying it in English."

"I know that, dumbass. What are you, a consciousness?" He takes his box, taking the plastic off the straw and shoving it on the circular foil. "Gimme yours."

He takes your carton and shakes it before doing the same and handing it to you. You blush vehemently, murmuring your gratitude and wrapping your lips around the paper straw.

Tsukishima's eyes wander out of boredom, tracing every corner and every ridge of your home. Until his eyes land on the sliding door to your backyard and catch a glimpse of that familiar blue and yellow ball.

"You play volleyball?" he queries, both his eyebrows raising.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Back in middle school."

"Bet you were shit at it."

"I was a middle blocker."

Tsukishima's back straightens, staring at you in hidden surprise. "At that height?"

"I'm not that short! Asshole," you throw your pen at him. He catches it with ease, setting it beside his notebook.

"Why aren't you in the women's volleyball club, then?" his brow raises. "Too short? They didn't take you? Failed the tryouts?"

You look down at your fingers, covered in peeled up skin and charred fingernails. You feel embarrassed, avoiding his eager stare. You sense his want to know your reason, radiating off his eyes.

"Not saying," you push yourself up, now standing in front of him. Tsukishima's eyes follow you, trailing uo from your thighs up to your neck, his irises darkening until he meets your gaze. "Get up. Time to go home."

"Let's play."

You stammer. "W-what? It's late."

"And I want to see you play." Tsukishima stands, hovering over you. "It's only nine in the evening."

You purse your lips, arms going limp on either side of your tired body. Though despite being worn out, you walk towards the door and slide it open, being greeted by Miyagi's brumal air that raises the hairs on your body. Tsukishima tugs on the sleeves of his sweater, covering half of his fingers, before following you out.

Barefoot in the evening, with the moon casting a pearlescent glow on your enervated bodies, the thump of the leather ball is in sync with your beating heart; and at each thump, it seems to wake Tsukishima up more.

"Tell me why you're not in the women's volleyball club," he sets it towards your direction.

"No." Your wrists join, your right fingers placing themselves on top of your left fingers, both thumbs settled side by side as your wrist ricochet the ball towards him. "It's none of your business."

Tsukishima catches it with ease. "You're lame."

You scoff, returning the ball. "I am not."

The blue and yellow ball floats into the evening air, the bright colors darkened by the stygian sky, only luminated by the moon and the lights outside your backyard. Tsukishima sets it to you again. "Listen, I don't really care about whatever your reason is. I just want to know."

You huff. There's no harm in telling your enemy a secret of yours, right? It's not like he was popular enough to go on and tell people. And like he said, he didn't care.

The ball comes in contact with your wrists. "I got injured. Well, not seriously injured. I can still play but I'm not as good as I used to be." Tsukishima catches the ball and rests it on his hip, listening to you explain. "I actually got a surgery at my calf."

You lift your pajamas just below your knee, showing the healed scar at the back of your calf. "The bone got dislocated 'cause one of my teammates smashed onto my leg when she was trying to save the ball. She got injured too, actually."

"Obviously," he retorts, now staring at your calf. Something about Tsukishima staring at your scar seemed too intimate as it should be, staring at your bare skin. His blonde hair drapes over his forehead, glasses glinting in the moonlight. "So where do you struggle?"

"Blocking. I can't jump properly." You scratch the back of your neck. "I can set though. Just, it's not in my heart."

"It's just a club," he says. "Play whatever position you want." Tsukishima sets the ball to you again.

"Just a club, huh?" You smirk. "Why'd you fail your test?"

"Because I was thinking too much of what I was gonna do when I'm at court again."

"And it's just a club."

"What's it to you?" He snaps. "At least I'm in the Volleyball club. Have I taken your dream?"

"You're a child."

"Yeah yeah. Join the club or whatever. Don't care if you don't or you want to."

You set it back to him again. "I want to."

Tsukishima senses your melancholy longing for the sport, sees your disheartened look as you think about all the chances you've lost. His heart twinges just the slightest, holding the ball between his slender hands. He almost pities you.

"Tell you what," he sets it to you. "If I pass the retest tomorrow, I'll help you with your blocking. If not," he shrugs, catching your return, "good luck with your life."

"You sound like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." You roll your eyes.

Tsukishima hopes he passes the retest tomorrow.

Mainly because it was import to him to ace it. Partly because he wanted to see you on court.

🏐 —

100.

You read Tsukishima's answers. In the fluorescent lights, his neat handwriting presents to you all the knowledge he's obtained from your chaotic teachings. He scoffs proudly, resting his lower back on the edge of his table.

"Not bad, nerd." You hand his paper to him. "And you beat me by two points."

"That's because you're an idiot," he sits down on his chair, though still facing you. "See you at the gym later."

Your brows furrow. "The gym's closed. Coach Ukai said today's rest day."

"But I'm not Coach Ukai," he fixes his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "It's just for today. And only today."

"Fine," you agree. You act like you're forced to say yes, but deep inside the vessels of your heart and every part of your brain, they throb with excitement.

So you meet Tsukishima outside the gym after class in a white shirt and gym shorts. He meets you there, clad in the same outfit, heat radiating off his body that warms your always cold flesh. For a moment he admires observes you, your attire unfamiliar but nevertheless appealing hideous.

When you enter, the court seemed bigger without the boys rousing around the court. It was quieter, no shoes squeaking, no balls slammed, no eager yelling. You set your bag down on the floor and see your untied shoe laces.

"Fuck," you mutter.

But before you could bend down, Tsukishima has already knelt in front of you.

His knee rests on the tip of your shoe, fingers ribboning the laces of your rubber shoes. Your eyes widen, body stiffening, and it felt like forever as he tied it (it was actually only 10 seconds).

"You're a dumbass for leaving your shoelaces untied." He makes no comment as to why he's decided to tie your laces, but you swear you see his ears turn a twinge of pink.

Tsukishima takes a ball and goes to the other side of the court. When you stand opposite from him, he rolls the ball to your direction.

"How long has it been since you've played?" he asks, loudly, voice echoing across the empty gymnasium.

"Uh, a year and a half." The ball bounces between your palm and the squeaky floor. "I'm a little rusty."

"You are rusty. Your receives were shit last night."

You growl at his tease.

"We're not gonna start with the blockings. We have to start from the beginning." Tsukishima positions himself, knees bent and apart, his hands on his knees. "Serve it."

So you do. You toss the ball into the air, your hand striking as it meets the ball, and it flies across the net. It goes outside.

"Idiot." Tsukishima laughs. "First, don't try to aim it to me. You don't want your opponents to save it. You have to aim it at an open spot inside the line. Second, don't serve too hard it goes outside."

"Okay!" You yell. And you serve again.

The ball grazes the net, but the momentum deems the ball to be inside the line. Tsukishima catches it and receives it back to your side.

Shit.

You race after the ball, joined wrists hitting it back to him. He dives, the back of his hand coming contact with the ball and it goes back to your court.

And it's high in the air, so you take the chance to bend your knees and jump, spiking it to his court.

Tsukishima blocks it.

He laughs. "You're horrible at this."

"I don't exactly have a libero to save it, don't I?" You retort.

Tsukishima smiles a little, laughing at your loss point. "Give me the ball." You roll it to his side. "I want you to try and block me."

"The net is higher than it is for girls, you know." You approach the net. "I'll have a hard time."

"The higher you jump, the better you can block the ball. And you'll even have an advantage against your enemies since you're practicing with a higher net, (y/n)." He dribbles the ball.

Tsukishima called you by your first name.

Not your surname, not some insulting nickname. Your first name.

Your knees weaken at the sound of his voice dropping the phonemes of your name.

But when he flings the ball upwards, you feel your body go rigid. And just before his incoming ball passes through the net, you jump, fingers stopping the ball.

But the ball doesn't go to his side, instead it falls down below the net, at your side. You land clumsily on your feet, ankle bending but not painfully.

"See, you got it. You just have to jump higher."

"Shut up, you stilt walking clown." Your leg throbs, shaking. "Hit it again."

"See this?" Tsukishima brings his hands in the air, his arms and hands bent inward. "You block like this. Don't straighten your arms. It sets the ball upwards and they get the point since you're last touch. Block me again."

You kick the ball to his direction. Tsukishima springs the ball into the air once more, his arm flinging back when he jumps and strikes the ball towards you.

Filled with adrenaline, you jump as high as you could, your chest as high as the edge of the net, arms and hands bent inward as you block the ball and ricochet it towards him.

He doesn't do anything and watches the ball roll outside the court. Tsukishima's eyes shoot up and look at you, the corner of his lips bent downwards in amusement.

"Not bad. Try harder though."

You snarl at him.

Hours pass and you're both drenched in sweat. His shirt sticks to his chest, his hair damp across his forehead. He's wiping his face with a towel and his glasses rest on top of his hair. You drink from your water bottle.

The sweat drips down the tip of his nose, golden eyes drowsy yet vigorous with adrenaline. His lips are parted to pant out tired breaths, his adam's apple bobbing, the veins of his arms protruding. And he's sitting at the same bench as yours.

You swallow the liquid in your mouth.

"One day of practice isn't enough to get me into the club, Tsukishima." you say, wiping your mouth. "Thanks for teaching me though."

Tsukishima sets his towel down. "It's whatever. Your receives are go-fine, anyway. And you're really not that tall enough to block. You're hopeless."

"I wish Hinata was here to say that so he could yell at you."

Hinata. Tsukishima feels something uncomfortable rise to his chest when you mention his name.

And it seems as though you have summoned that tiny tangerine devil.

"Oh, Kageyama! The lights are open, someone must be here," your head turns and see that Hinata's hair pokes out the door before his head fully goes in. His eyes roam around until they find you. "Oh! (y/l/n)-san!"

"Hinata," you smile kindly. "Why are you guys still here? There's no training today."

"Tanaka-san said we can train for as much as we want as long as we don't tell Sawamura." he hops inside, Kageyama following suit behind him, unzipping his jacket. "What are you doing here, Stingyshima?"

"None of your business." He replies, irritation dripping off his sharp tongue from the nickname. "What do you think we were doing? Playing kendama?"

"I wouldn't mind playing kendama," Hinata looks at Kageyama, who shrugs. "Can we join?"

"Hopeless child," Tsukishima rubs his face with his towel again. "It's getting late. We should go home."

His usage of plural rather than sigular denotes that his usual selfishness has been decreased due to your unwavering presence, having been spent multiple hours with you for the past two days than usual. Tsukishima has easily adapted to include you in whatever he was going to do next.

We should go home.

"Aw, well, can you leave us the keys?" Hinata asks you. Tsukishima shoves the keys in the small boy's hand. "Thank you, Stingyshima!"

Tsukishima slings his bag over his shoulder, approaching the exit. He looks at Kageyama. "Fix your sets, your Majesty. You wouldn't want to clip the wings of Karasuno now, would you?"

You can see the smirk formed in his face. Kageyama is fuming, his fists clenching. "You– I...– You piece of shi– Hnmgh– You dumbass! Hinata!"

"Why me?!"

Tsukishima walks away without waiting for you, although you follow suit behind him. And when you reach the school gates, he turns right rather than left—and his way home begins with him turning left.

Yours was to the right.

"You gonna walk me home?" You joke, finally catching up behind him. Your weary legs has made you walk slower, though enough to now keep up with Tsukishima's tired pace.

"Yes."

Tsukishima doesn't spare a glance at you. But you look at him in shock. Then you shoot him an upsidedown smile, humming.

"No longer Stingyshima, I see."

"I ought to leave you here and get kidnapped." He states bluntly, finally looking down at you through his peripherals.

"Why are you walking me home then?"

"Because I want to take a long walk."

"Yeah sure, whatever." Your hands meet behind you, hitting the top of your bottom at every step you take. "You wanted to take a long walk. Could've gone to the park, could've roamed around your street. But yeah, you're walking me home so you could have a long walk back to your home."

Tsukishima tuts, his arms crossing. "Are you implying something, (y/n)?"

Your first name. Again.

"Oh, I'm not implying anything!" Your eyebrows raise, looking fully at him. And Tsukishima turns his head and looks at you as he walks. "I'm just stating what I've observed, Tsukki."

"Don't call me that."

"Okay!" You turn to your gate. When you reach inside the small box and pull on the lever of your door, you sense that Tsukishima is still standing behind you wth his hands in his pockets, watching you intently. So you turn around when the gate unlocks. "Yes? Do you need to use my bathroom first? Want a carton of milk or something?"

"No." He says. "Get in already."

You rest your back at your gate. "Tell me the real reason why you walked me home."

"No."

"So you lied to me earlier?"

"N-no."

"So what is it?"

Tsukishima sighs. Then he takes a few steps, approaching you and bends down so that his face would be equal to yours.

His scent is sweet, like freshly picked strawberries. And his lips, though thin, was soft and pink. And the tip of his nose grazes just above yours. And his golden eyes narrow to gaze at every speck of your irises. The corner of his lip turns upwards.

"That shut you up." He says. You blush, and he seems to taunt you. "Still want to play volleyball?"

His breath is hot fanning over your cold face. You can't help but nod. You swallow thickly from the close proximity that Tsukishima has created.

"Okay. Well, I still need help with english. And you obviously still need help with volleyball. So you reap what you sow. We'll help each other."

Tsukishima says those words like they're a command. Like they're being read from sacred scriptures. An event waiting to be happened for a prophecy to be fulfilled. Tsukishima's tone was flat but his voice deemed importance.

"Okay," was all you managed to let out through a breath. "See you tomorrow?"

Tsukishima stands up, eyes you up and down. Then looks into your eyes again and you swear that his gaze softens.

"See you tomorrow."

🏐—

A few weeks pass by.

At mornings, Tsukishima has come to pick you up and you studied on the way to Karasuno. You spend your lunches together, along with Yamaguchi, as well as Hinata and Kageyama who—while also bickering like children—listen to whatever you teach Tsukishima.

After classes, you find yourself joining the boys at the volleyball club, with Tsukishima helping you practice your blocks and receives. Though you notice that the boys take their strengths down a notch, which you are somewhat grateful for — because they truly are strong, and you're not ready to catch up to their level yet.

And at nights, Tsukishima walks you home with a milk carton in hand and sharp remarks in his mouth.

There's still a thick smoke of hatred that covers the both of you, that string of annoyance wrapped around your fingers. Yet as days pass by, that smoke has been thinning at every civil interaction. Albeit that annoyance still lingered.

And until today, that smoke has turned into this very light fog, until you begin to question why you hated Tsukishima in the first place.

Your phone vibrates.

tsukishima. Where are you? 8:32am

you. almost there. forgot my bag at home. 8:33am

tsukishima. Hurry up. It's cold outside. 8:33am

you. will do. sorry :| Read at 8:34am

Tsukishima is standing outside the gates of Karasuno, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed as you quickened the pace of your walk.

"You're so slow it's annoying," his eyebrows furrow. "Why'd you forget your bag? Idiot."

"You pressure me, douchebag." You flick the bridge of his glasses. He yelps. "Hurry. I want to study already. We have a quiz at 9."

When you and Tsukishima sit on your respective seats, you quiz each other with lazily scribbled flash cards. He seems to have absorbed the passed on knowledge and had answered the questions with ease.

So after the quiz, he seemed content; confident.

"How well did you think you did, beanpole?" You zip your bag.

"Well enough to beat your ass," he replies. Then, he does something new.

He smiles at you.

It wasn't a bright smile. Not energetic, but radiates some kind of light happiness. Seemed like a smile of gratitude.

You feel your cheeks flare.

After classes, you meet outside the gym as always, both of you changed into training clothes. Then you spend hours and hours jumping and tiring your wrists out, squeaking your shoes off the floor.

By the time the sun has set, Tsukishima was waiting for you again.

"Let's study."

Your eyes widen and you look startled. Tsukishima looks bored. "I'm pretty sure you got yourself covered for the rest of the year, Tsukishima."

"And I don't think you can train by yourself in volleyball," he adjusts his bag. "Let's just study. Reap what you sow."

"You keep saying that."

He ignores you. "Let's study at my place."

"E-excuse me?"

Tsukishima begins to walk to his direction. And despite your reaction, you follow him either way. "Let's study at my place for a change. I'm sick of your living room."

He says it like he's spent years hanging out in your living room. Your feet runs on the cobblestone to catch up with him. "But- What else are we gonna study?"

"Whatever I want."

His house wasn't actually that far from the campus. When you've turned a corner, he opens the gate and lets you in. When you enter his home, it's warm and clean, so you set your shoes aside and walk in your socks.

No one's home.

Tsukishima could've led you to their living room. Instead, he goes directly to his bedroom. And when you don't move, he looks at you through the door with a raised brow, as if to say "well? why aren't you getting in?"

So you do.

You sit on the edge of his bed, watching him unzip his jacket and set it aside. You decide to stop acting so wary and let you back fall to his bed, taking your phone out.

"So when are your tryouts?"

You look at him, placing your phone on your chest. "Next week. Michimiya was nice enough to let me try this late into the school year."

"I'll be there." He sits down on the other side of his bed.

"Oh," you're stunned. "Okay. Um, what do you want to study?"

You pull yourself up until your whole body is on his bed, sitting up and resting your back at his headboard. Tsukishima brings his legs to the bed, resting them beside your socked feet.

"Chemistry." This is new. "Can you run me through it?"

And you do. You take your notebook our and run him by all the lessons discussed for the past week. Tsukishima's pretends to listen but he actually doesn't.

Instead he's staring at your scar at your leg, up and down your very exposed thigh, but mostly at your scar.

You notice this immediately. "Tsukishima, why are you staring at my scar?"

"It's Kei," he looks at you, his hand resting just beside your calf, index finger twitching to trace the ridges of your scar. "Call me Kei."

Kei.

"Okay, Kei."

Your voice, filled with dulcets, his name sounding mellifluous as it rolls of your tongue. Tsukishima's heart beats wildly, and has decided to come with the terms that he hates you— because he likes you.

"Your scar looks... cool..." his index finger finally sets on the soft skin of your healed wound. You shiver at his featherlight touch.

And he's so near you now. As near as that time he walked you home and bent down to your height. And gods, he was so handsome. Even with his scratched glasses. Your mouth gapes the slightest, shaking hands reaching to remove the spectacles off his nose.

Tsukishima lets you. You see sweetness of his stare, all that hatred you used to see seemed to have melted and dripped from his sweat. This kind of Tsukishima is new– foreign, yet seemed right. Seemed destined to happen.

"Kei," you murmur. "What are you doing?"

"Is your skull too thick to process your environment?" his laugh leaves him in a huff, smirking.

"You're so eager for me to teach you something you're already good at so you could keep training me," your brows meet in the middle the slightest, a crease on your forehead that Tsukishima wants to wipe away. "Why?"

"Because you're good, (y/n)." He declares. "Your injury isn't stopping you to perform your best. You're just scared."

"Then why not just train me without me having to tutor you?"

"Because I don't want to lose these kind of moments." he whispers. "Jesus, (y/n), I like you. It's why I brought you here, for fuck's sake."

His lips are warm compared to his cold hands.

You gasp, though eyes fluttering shut, and your eyelashes tickle his soft cheeks. Your fingers wrap around his wrist as he holds your delicate face in the palm of his hands, careful not to hurt you as his lips remain planted on yours.

When Tsukishima pulls away, he's not far from you. His lips hover over yours, breathing your air, his forehead resting just slightly on yours. Your fingers come up to tangle themselves on his silky hair.

"Lose moments like what, make out with me?" you giggle. "If you wanted to make out, Kei, just tell me."

"You never shut up, do you?"

His lips meet yours again in an open mouthed kiss, his tongue unabashed to graze your shy muscle. You hum in surprise, feeling yourself fall backwards when he gently cradles your head to rest on his sweet-scented pillow.

Somehow, you did meet up with your end of the bargain, only with something better.

Something better– like his hips slanted against yours as his mouth spreads shameless ardor across your body.

Something better– like how he whispers your name against your lips like a sacred prayer before he kisses you again carefully.

Something better– like a newfound relationship with Tsukishima Kei, someone you swore was your enemy, but now was someone you could spend your days with in his bed getting warm in ways fire couldn't.

Tsukishima looks into your eyes, tells you his secrets through his dilating pupils. His calloused fingers push your hair behind your ears, and then he kisses your forehead, followed by silk petal kisses on the plump of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and then your lips.

His hands wander beneath your shirt, palms no longer cold as they're heated by the fervor of your body.

"You're so pretty."

"What a sap." you tease. "You're in love with me."

"I am." His nose rubs against yours lightly. "I so am. I'm in love with a dumbass. My ego has exploded."

You hit his face with a pillow.

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!

he loves coming inside, in fact, the only other place he'll come is on your pussy.

it doesn’t matter how you feel, its the only way he knows.

And if he's feeling generous he'll eat both of your cum out of you leaving you squirting and moaning hysterically

he’ll never say he has a breeding kink, but the way he waits for his cock to go limp before pulling out is all you need to know.

T O J I, Gojo, Ushiwaka, Usui, IWAZUMI, eren, Laxus, gajeel (bro has kids alr) Erwin, shinichiro, Geto, YAMI YAMI YAMI, Meliodas, KURAPIKA, Todoroki, ace, shinsou, Terushima, (hear me out but kaido…)

Thankyou for doing the chuuya type headcanons! You didn't dissapoint at all and I totally agree that he would be much more flexible in his type than fyodor would. I can definitely see him being a bit possessive. In a kind of guard dog way haha! Please please do some dating and nsfw headcanons!!

From the Anon who asked for Chuuya

Hello, my dear. The NSFW headcanons are here, and I have also written some dating headcanons. ♥️

N A K A H A R A C H U U Y A

Dating headcanons.

Chuuya x fem!reader

Dating Chuuya is a unique experience—one that feels equal parts exhilarating and comfortable, though always with a bit of intensity.

From the moment you become his, Chuuya isn’t just dating you—he is committing to you in every sense, even if he does not always show it with flowery words.

His actions speak louder.

He is not the type to be all over you publicly or shower you with overt affection in front of others, but when you are alone, you can feel how deeply he cares.

He is incredibly observant.

Chuuya pays attention to every detail, from the way you smile when you see something you like, to the way you subtly shift when you are uncomfortable.

He may not always express it verbally, but you will find that every gift, every gesture, is a reflection of the little things you have shared with him over time.

While he is not the best at picking up on every subtle hint, he will remember the important stuff, so expect surprises that feel personal and meaningful.

Chuuya is incredibly thoughtful when it comes to dates.

Though his lifestyle may not allow for spontaneous trips or long weekends away, he will make sure that the time you do spend together is memorable.

Whether it is a quiet night in, a dinner at a fine restaurant, or an intimate getaway, he plans everything down to the smallest detail.

He is not one for extravagant public displays, but his thoughtfulness will shine through in ways that make you feel cherished and understood.

He is protective, but in his own way.

Chuuya is fiercely protective of you, though it is not always the kind of protective that is obvious to the outside world.

He will not hover, but when it comes to the people you are around, he will keep a careful eye on them.

His concern for your well-being will never be far behind, though it is often shown through actions rather than words—like making sure you get home safely, checking in with you during stressful moments, or doing little things that make your life easier.

His love is not conventional, but it is unwavering.

When you date Chuuya, you learn that his love is shown in the little things. It is not about grand gestures for him—it is about making you feel like you are the only one who matters.

Whether it is choosing the perfect wine for your dinner, knowing exactly what song will make you smile, or holding you close when the world feels too loud, Chuuya’s love is a quiet strength that you can feel in every touch and word.

He has a complex view of intimacy and affection.

Chuuya is not big on PDA, and he is not the type to publicly announce his feelings. But when it is just the two of you, he is tender and caring in his own way.

He wants you to know you are loved, and he will go out of his way to show it.

He might not always be openly affectionate, but he will often give you small touches—a hand on your back, a soft kiss on your forehead—that are enough to make you feel secure in his love.

You are the center of his world.

When Chuuya is with you, he is entirely present.

Despite his busy lifestyle, he will make sure that the time you spend together feels significant.

Whether he is planning a quiet night in or taking you out for a date, you will always feel like his first priority.

While he is often surrounded by chaos, when it is just you two, everything else fades into the background.

In a relationship, Chuuya likes to maintain a sense of control, but it is never about domination—it is about ensuring that he can protect and care for you.

He does not want you to feel helpless, but he does want to guide you, especially when it comes to navigating the challenges in his life and yours.

You will never feel like you are alone when he is by your side, and that constant support will make you feel safe and cherished.

The intimacy in your relationship will be intense, but deeply meaningful.

Physical affection with Chuuya is not just about sex; it is an extension of the trust and emotional connection you share.

He will always prioritise your comfort and pleasure, but he will also want to explore deeper levels of intimacy with you—whether that is through soft, lingering kisses, quiet moments of touch, or deeper, more intense expressions of love.

The dynamic between you two will always be filled with moments where you feel entirely seen and cared for.

He is not a fan of sharing you. (And he won’t. Ever.)

Chuuya does not like to share what is his, especially when it comes to you. While he is not possessive in a toxic way, you will feel his territorial side come out in subtle ways.

If someone gets too close to you, he is the type to step in and make sure they know exactly who you belong to.

You will feel secure, but also like you are his one and only—something that will be reassuring and maybe even a little thrilling.