Haikyuu imagines

soft side- Tsukishima

I groaned, my ankle throbbing with every step. I shouldn't have pushed myself at practice today, but stubborn me didn't want to sit out. Now, leaning on my bag for support, I was regretting every single decision that got me here.

"Ugh... this is so frustrating," I muttered, trying to adjust the strap so it didn't dig into my shoulder.

Footsteps clicked behind me, deliberate and annoyingly calm.

"Tch. You really can't take care of yourself, huh?"

I froze. Of course it was him. Of course.

"I-Tsukishima, I'm fine. I can walk-" I tried to take a step, and pain shot up my leg like fire.

"You can't walk," he said flatly, stepping in front of me like a wall. "Stop pretending."

I huffed, annoyed, but also secretly relieved. He didn't need to hover, but somehow, I was glad he was.

"Here," he muttered, crouching slightly. "Loop your arm over my shoulder. I'm not carrying your whining too, so move."

I blinked at him. "You don't have to-"

"Yes, I do," he interrupted, voice sharp, but there was a tension underneath it I recognized. Protective.

He lifted my bag over his shoulder, the strap cutting lightly into his chest, and wrapped his other arm around my waist. I leaned into him, careful not to touch too much, though every step made my heart beat faster.

"You're ridiculous," I mumbled.

"Ridiculous?" he said, deadpan. "You're the one who can't manage two feet without complaining."

Despite myself, I laughed softly, wincing at the pain shooting up my leg. He didn't comment-just guided me down the hallway, steady, firm, unyielding.

By the time we reached the nurse's office, I was exhausted and embarrassed. Tsukishima didn't even let go while they wrapped my ankle in a supportive brace, hovering just behind me with his arms crossed, watching like he was ready to pounce if I tried to walk off on my own.

"Seriously, you're still walking?" he asked once the nurse was done.

"Yes..." I replied, gingerly flexing my ankle.

"Yeah, you'll probably be limping for a week," he said, voice gruff, though his eyes softened a little. "And you are not carrying your bag again. Ever."

I let him help me up, linking my arm with his. My heart was racing-not from the injury, but from the closeness.

"Thanks," I murmured, glancing at him.

"Don't," he said, looking away with that familiar scratch of his neck, that telltale sign of embarrassment. "I just... don't want you getting hurt again. That's all."

By the time we left school, the afternoon sun had started to dip low, casting long shadows over the quiet streets. I was limping badly now, but he refused to let me take another step alone.

"You're ridiculous," I said again, breathless. "I can manage a few blocks on my own."

"I said I'm not letting you walk alone," he said, voice low and serious, but there was a tension there now, a hint of something more. He picked me up effortlessly, holding me against his chest. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, and I realized my face was closer to his than I'd ever been.

"Tsukishima!" I whispered, half-laughing, half-panicked. "I'm not a child!"

"You act like one sometimes," he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "Besides, I like this. You in my arms."

I felt heat bloom in my chest. "You're insane," I said softly.

He leaned down slightly, his lips brushing my ear. "Maybe... but you like it, don't lie."

I swallowed, unable to form words as his hand slid gently from my back to rest at the small of my waist. He carried me the rest of the way, teasing me the entire time.

"Bet you're embarrassed," he murmured, voice low and warm. "Can't believe you let me do all this for you."

"You're not helping me out of kindness," I whispered, heart hammering. "You're... enjoying this, aren't you?"

His lips grazed the side of my neck, making me shiver. "Maybe I am," he admitted softly. "Maybe I just... don't want anyone else touching you right now."

By the time we reached my apartment, I was dizzy-part from the pain, part from the nearness, part from the way he looked at me. He set me down gently, hands lingering on my arms.

"You okay?" he asked, voice softer than usual.

I nodded, heart racing. "I think so..."

His lips brushed mine suddenly, slow, deliberate. "Good," he murmured. "Because I'm not done taking care of you yet."

And just like that, the teasing, grumpy Tsukishima I knew had melted into something warmer, closer, and impossibly magnetic.