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clubkira · 6 months

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DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ

oh future husband, better love me right!

premise. the nhk gives it’s viewers a peak into the love lives of the jnt’s lineup, interviewing the future wives of the jnt to crack the secret to a happy relationship ❤︎

content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (atsumu miya, rintarou suna, wakatoshi ushijima & shoyo hinata). fluff. somewhat decent relationship advice. downbad fiancés. healthy relationships(!!). suggestive moments. petnames.

soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.

part two can be read here.

dear future husband m.list. // hq. masterlist.

ATSUMU MIYA.

“after every fight, just apologize.”

“Relationship advice?” You repeat, sitting across from the NHK interviewer, mic strapped to your shirt as a camera filmed your living room. She nods, smiling while holding a microphone of her own.

“Yes! Tell us, what is the secret to a healthy relationship?”

You tilt your head, “Well, I guess I have some advice to give.” Your fingers drum against the armrest of your couch as you sit in thought, contemplating on what to tell the reporter, “hmm..”

Atsumu sitting beside you laughs, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder, “I have some advice I’d like to give as well.”

You turn to him with a grimace. “I don’t want any young viewers following whatever is about to come out of your mouth, ‘Tsumu.”

He looks at you offended; reeling his arm back to his side, shock spelled out all over his face. “Excuse me, I’m great at romance. I romanced you, didn’t I?”

“Unfortunately,” you jest, with Atsumu exclaiming in protest, “But this isn’t just about romancing someone, ‘Tsumu. They’re asking what makes a relationship a healthy one.”

“So?” He shrugs, “A healthy relationship is one that’s full of romance.”

“I apologize for him,” you playfully tell the interviewer, ignoring the look Atsumu gives you in response, “He’s not the best at this sorta stuff.”

She merely giggles, “No worries, the players are allowed to give their own opinions as well.” Atsumu puffs his chest out, “See, babe? She said I can talk too.”

“Yeah well, just make sure to cut out whatever he says in the final broadcast,” She lets out a snort at your jab, hiding the smile that creeps onto her face behind her microphone while Atsumu shoves your shoulder in despair.

“Awe, c’mon! I’m not that bad with relationship advice!” He pouts at you, looking like a kicked puppy when he does so, “What makes you think I’m so bad at this, do you actually want to marry me, babe?”

Your eyes soften at his saddened tone, feeling slightly guilty you link your fingers with his, eyes full of love when he smiles down at your intertwined hands.

“Of course I do, ‘Tsumu.”

The camera crew awes as you turn back to face the cameras, still holding Atsumu’s hand firmly in your own, running your thumb over the smooth cut diamond ring studded band he wears on his ring finger.

“The advice I have to give viewers is; Apologize when you are wrong,” you tell the interviewer, “No matter your pride, no amount will replace your relationship. It’s never worth sacrificing your loved one just for the sake of winning an argument.”

“Uh huh, you’re one to talk about that, babe,” Atsumu rolls his neck, “You never apologize first, it’s always me who has to for you to talk to me again.”

“What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “I’m the one who initiates the apology conversations, you’re the stubborn one out of us.”

“Nuh-uh.”

You groan, “Exactly.”

Atsumu pulls his hand out of yours, placing it on your thigh instead before facing the cameras. “But, she is right. Do not ever choose a winning an argument over your partner. It ends badly.”

“You would know,” you snort, “You give me the longest silent treatments until I coax you out of it with kisses.”

“Can we cut that out of the broadcast, please?”

You purse your lips to hide the oncoming smile until Atsumu leans forward, a handsome grin on his face as he looks directly into the rolling cameras with a newfound confidence.

“But, y’know. I do always apologize in the end, ‘cause my girl’s never wrong.”

RINTAROU SUNA.

“make time for her.”

“You see this girl?” Suna jabs a thumb in your direction from across the kitchen, leaning against the marble island lazily as the camera team nods. “Yeah, she gets constipated if I don’t give her enough attention.”

Your head perks up immediately as you shoot him a halfhearted glare, “Do not.”

“See, she’s doing it right now.” He ignores, drinking from his glass of water before setting it down on the counter, ignoring the little gasp you let out at his actions.

Rolling your eyes, you smack his arm before sliding a coaster under his drink, “Don’t scratch the marble, Rinnie. I just bought this island.”

The camera team silently giggles at the short interactions between you two, with Suna sticking his tongue out at you and in response you give him a middle finger before he turns back to face them, “Can you believe her?”

Scoffing, you enter the camera frame beside him, “Don’t bring them into this, Rinnie.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m your fiancée.”

Suna opens his mouth to argue before shutting it promptly, “Good point.”

One of the crew members holds a sign from behind the cameras, indicating to get the interview back on topic. “Why would you ever ask her for relationship advice?” Suna chuckles, “I was the one who made the first move.”

“The interview is for the fiancée’s of the JNT, Mr. Suna,” the interviewer reminds him, “But the players are welcome to voice their own opinions as well.”

Suna stretches his arm behind his back with a yawn, a sliver of his abdomen peeking out from underneath his home shirt before disappearing quickly, “Well in that case, allow me to voice this opinion—”

You slap a hand over his mouth before he can begin, “Nope, didn’t you hear them? This is my interview, Rinnie.”

“Buhf dey shaid I can shpeak too, affhole." Suna glares from behind your hand, removing it from his mouth with a groan. “Did you even wash your hand? Tastes gross.”

“Why did you lick my hand?”

“We’ve done freakier things than that and that’s what you’re worried about?”

Your words get lodged in your throat, sputtering out hurriedly, “This is going on T.V, Rinnie!”

He looks to you with a smug smile, “Yeah, and I can’t wait to rewatch this interview and see your reaction again later.”

Your fists clench momentarily before taking a deep breath, relaxing yourself and facing the cameras with a smile. “Anyways, some relationship advice I’d give to anyone watching; make time for your spouse.”

Suna nods along to your words, “Mhm, I think that’s the most important thing in a relationship.”

“Shut up, Rinnie.”

“Ouch,” he fakes a stab through his heart, monotonous eyes but a playful grin on his lips. “I talk for two seconds and you tell your dear fiancé to shut up?”

You shake your head towards him jokingly, continuing to talk to the interviewer, “A healthy relationship means you spend time with your loved ones, and your spouse should be the most loved person in your life.”

The reporter nods, “I see, I see, what do you suggest to our viewers the best ways to spend quality time with their lover?”

“In bed.” Suna chimes in immediately, earning another smack on the shoulder from you. “What?” He looks at you with a knowing grin, “Oh, you— I didn’t mean like that, oh my god you’re sooo dirty minded.”

He chuckles, “I meant like cuddling, laying in bed together, watching movies. Y’know, wholesome things.”

“Nothing is wholesome with you,” you exasperate, speaking from personal experience. “But yes, those are great ways to spend times with your lover. They’re good times to bond with them, or just relax and unwind after a long day.”

“Yeah, after a gruelling day of practice, it’s nice to come home and lay in her arms,” Suna motions to you before leaning his head on your shoulder, his grin now replaced with a small but gentle smile. “She’s all I want to see after practice.”

“Wow,” you tease, leaning your head atop his, “and where did you learn to be so smooth, hm? Are you just playing it up for the cameras, Rinnie?”

Suna snickers, hands crossed over his chest relaxed, “I would never,” he says before mumbling close to your ear.

“I just, really like to spend time with you.”

WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.

“treat her like a lady.”

“My fiancé is out right now at the gym,” you inform the NHK station crew, their camera men follow you inside your house for the opening shots of the broadcast. “Make yourselves comfortable while you wait.”

The interviewer settles himself on a seat at your dining table as you reach for the vase of flowers atop, moving into the kitchen to pour the old water out of their vase, careful to not spill any over your kitchen counter as you refill the container with fresh water from your tap.

Refreshing the water, you carefully place the flowers back into their vase before rearranging them neatly, coming back out of the kitchen to place them back on your table and adjusting them accordingly as the interviewer watches amazed.

“Those flowers are very lovely,” he notes softly, almost as if any louder of a volume would disturb the plants, “Did you fiancé happen to get them for you?”

You smile, “yes, he did,” recalling the first time he got you a bouquet, on your first date many years ago.

“‘Toshi knows I love flowers.”

The soft click of the lock to your house causes you to perk your head up in familiarity, the frame of your fiancé’s figure coming into view as you see him placing his shoes down beside your door before coming inside.

“Welcome home, dear,” you call out to him from the kitchen, one of the camera crew’s members break off to film your fiancé as he enters the home. He drops his gym bag to the floor beside your couch, removing his jacket and hanging it on your coatrack before passing through the halls of your shared home to get to you.

Ushijima shuffles his way into the kitchen, passing by the camera crew and approaching you from behind, hugging you as his hands are wrap around your stomach, head dropping into the crook of your shoulder.

You lean into his touch, his freshly showered hair smells of the shampoo the two of you use.

“Are you showing them the flowers I got you?” He asks, eying the pretty arrangement of flowers on the table. The cameras zoom in to take a closer shot at the flowers, noting the vibrancy of the colours and the lack of thorns adorning the stems.

You and the reporter nod, Ushijima lets a small smile settle on his face. “She told me they were her favourites,” he tells the reporter.

“Hm,” he hums before turning to you, microphone extending outwards. “is that your relationship advice for the viewers then? Giving your loved one gifts?”

You shake your head quickly, “Oh, no! No, that’s not my advice— Of course, do get your partner gifts if you know they’ll enjoy them.” Ushijima straightens up, hands snaking around your waist to stand beside you as the cameras pan out to record the both of you in the same shot.

“‘Toshi just really likes to get me little things,” you smile, reminicing on all the times your eyes barely glazed over something in a store front before he was scrambling inside the shop to buy it for you, despite your pleas.

“But gifts do not have to be expensive,” You reassure the viewers again, “just little trinkets that remind you of your partner will be enough.”

Ushijima nods before lifting your hand up to the camera, showing off the engagement ring with a large diamond displayed proudly atop it. “Yes, but I do like to splurge when it comes to her.”

You retract your hand quickly, warily eying your fiancé, “‘Toshi! Don’t make the viewers think they need to buy people’s happiness with expensive gifts!”

His head tilts unsurely, “My love, do you not like the ring I got you?”

“I-I do! When did I ever say I didn’t?”

His eyes crinkle slightly in concern, “Then why are you hiding our engagement ring from the viewers?”

“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want young, inexperienced lovers to think they need something like a huge, flashy engagement ring to be loved by someone.”

“But you deserve the best,” he rebuffs, “There is nothing I wouldn’t buy for you if you asked.”

“‘Toshi.. this isn’t really helping our case…”

The reporter turns to Ushijima, “Even though this is a special for the JNT fiancées, the players are allowed to give their own insight.” He informs your soon-to-be husband, “Do you have anything else to add for our viewers?”

Ushijima thinks for a moment, silent in thought as you look to your fiancé, and the sight of his matching engagement ring twinkling under the bright studio lights filling your home catches your eye all too quickly.

“Do you have anything you want to say, ‘Toshi?” You nudge his shoulder slightly when he continues to remain quiet, an encouraging smile on your lips.

He nods, bringing the hand with your ring on it before giving the intricately cut diamond a kiss, his piercing eyes gazing deep into yours, causing your face to heat up fervently at his wolfish grin.

“Treat your partner the best that you can, like the lady she is and deserves to be treated as.”

SHOYO HINATA.

“don’t forget your anniversaries!”

Shoyo’s leg bounces feverishly as the reporter speaks to you casually, unable to contain his excitement at being asked to join you for this broadcasted interview special.

His grin is wide, beaming whenever you sneak small glances at him whenever the reporter looks down at their cue cards of start up questions to ease into the conversation, before the real topic is brought up.

“Do you have any relationship advice for our viewers?”

You’re about to speak until Shoyo interrupts you, quite literally flying out of his seat while brightly smiling as his hand grasps yours with a tight grip, “I do, I do!”

The reporter chortles, smiling at his tactics, “Thank you, Mr. Hinata. But this interview is specifically for your fiancée.” Shoyo’s face sullens lightly until he speaks again, “But you’re allowed to give your own thoughts when she’s done.”

Shoyo slumps back into his seat dejectedly as you rub his back comfortingly, “Sorry, Sho. But just let me speak first, okay?” His pout is replaced instantaneously at your words with the usual smile he holds when around you, “Alright, baby!”

You look towards the reporter, hand still clasped in Shoyo’s securely. “Here is my advice for a healthy relationship; Don’t forget your anniversaries.”

Your fiancé’s mouth hangs open in shock at your words, head whipping to face you with a hearty laugh, “That’s what I was going to say!”

The look of shock that spreads across your face amuses him, staring at you expectantly for a few moments before you too erupt into laughter, shoulders shaking in surprise as the two of you cling to each other for support, with Shoyo nearly falling off the couch with how hard he cackles.

He clings onto your shoulder to stop himself from tumbling, which in turn causes you to laugh harder as you try to pull him back up as Shoyo calls out for you to ‘save him’.

“Baby, I’m falling!” Shoyo shrieks while howling with laughter, “Grab my hand!”

“You’re already grabbing my hand, Sho!”

Cameras stationed around your living room pan to zoom in on Shoyo’s joyful face when he fools around with you, the grip he still holds on your hand as clear as day as you jokingly attempt to rescue his bumbling self.

The out of frame reporter looks to the two of you happily, the fact that you both seem so absorbed in each other and have forgotten about the interview portion of the broadcast is surprisingly heartwarming for both the crew and the viewers watching the broadcast.

Once the two of you manage to calm down, you shyly look back to the NHK crew with a timid smile.

“Sorry,” you apologize to your interviewer, coughing as you try to hold back another bout of laughter when you catch Shoyo smiling at you again, attempting to contain his giggles. “We got a little- uhm, carried away.”

“It’s no problem,” the reporter chuckles, “I can see the two of you are very much in love, so is that the advice you wish to tell our viewers on how your relationship with each other is so healthy?”

You and Shoyo nod simultaneously, “Yeah, don’t you ever forget your partner’s anniversaries!!” Shoyo sternly but playfully warns the viewers, “I’m serious, guys! Anniversaries are important!”

“What anniversaries should our viewers be aware of when it comes to their lovers?”

This time you speak up, “Well, the major and most well known ones of course,” you begin, listing off the ones you can recall at the moment.

“For example; first month together, first year spent as a couple, birthdays could also count I suppose—”

“Did you know I proposed to her on our fifth anniversary?” Shoyo interrupts excitedly, the same happy and bright smile on his face shining when he proudly pulls up his hand to show off the ring on his finger, “I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot to put the ring on her finger after she accepted!”

Recalling that memory brings warmth to your cheeks, “Yeah, he literally forgot about the ring in the box until I asked him about it later.”

“But in any case,” you circle back to original topic at hand, noticing the way Shoyo’s smile dampens a little when you switch back so quickly as you shoot him an apologetic smile, you don’t want to waste the reporter’s and NHK crew’s time any longer.

“Don’t forget your anniversaries, people! They’re a big deal for a ton of lovers!”

“Th-that’s right!” Shoyo piggybacks off your response, “And if you do forget, you better apologize a lot!”

The reporter nods, turning their attention to your fiancé. “And do you have any final thoughts for our viewers on how you maintain a healthy relationship with your fiancée, Mr. Hinata?”

Shoyo smiles deviously at the open ended question he’s been dying to answer this whole time; his hand creeping teasingly up your thigh to the small of your back as he leans in real close to you with a knowing wink, the flushed expression displayed on your face at his actions encourages him even more to continue.

His eyes glint with amusement, the mischievous grin on his lips is firm even in front of several strangers and cameras rolling in real time, footage of his behaviour being broadcasted to the entirety of Japan this very second.

And without shame or guilt, Shoyo smirks.

“Make your anniversary nights real special for her, trust me on that one.”

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

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forusomimiya · 1 year

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Ushijima praising your beautiful pussy that he abuses until he sees his cock covered in white. He'll hold your hips and just watch you devour his cock endlessly.

"Don't stop please, keep - fucking me baby. Keep sucking me s-so good… this cock is all yours, all yours babe… keep it up."

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malereadermaniac · 4 months

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Studying ~ Ushijima x Male Reader

Some nsfw! Minors dni and fem readers dni!

Ushijima has always liked how smart you are

Ever since you two had been seated together in class, he admired how you always try in class but aren't too snooty about it - you help him if he needs it for whatever reason

The one time that solidified your relationship as friends was when Ushijima had overworked himself so much at practice because of nationals that his brain wasn't computing with the lesson at hand

"You good?" You whisper, noticing his disheveled look and empty piece of paper

"Uh.. yeah, I'm just confused" he whispered back, looking down at his notebook

Wordlessly you slid your notes to Wakatoshi

He looked up at you with widened eyes and you flash him a warm smile before turning your attention back to the teacher

Once you slowly started to hang out with Ushijima and Tendo, the muscular volleyball player didn't take too long to take a liking to you

Tendo always shipped the two of you, teasing you both by gushing over anything you two did

Which happened a lot, since you and Wakatoshi became really close

You were and still are a shy, gay nerd, you knew there was no chance of him liking you but that didn't stop you from showing affection like you would to any other friend

Wakatoshi on the other hand didn't register that he was head over heels for you

He could only get his head in the game if you were on the courtside cheering him on ever since he met you

He would put his arms around your shoulder when you two would walk to class

Fucking hell Wakatoshi not only catch himself staring at you for ages and conjure up excuses for himself

But finally, once you two finally got together nothing much changed

Except for Ushijima doing everything he used to do x10

He isn't one for a lot of PDA, but when in private, Wakatoshi is all over you

And you love it so, so much

In public he'll call you pretty or handsome, he'd hold your hand and hold you close but that's about all

In private, this man is holding you on top of him, complimenting you, constantly talking to you; there's never a moment of silence when you're with your boyfriend

You both do go out on dates, Ushijima has money and he aims to spoil his boyfriend as much as he can, so fancy restaurants and vacation homes are go-to's

But the two of you do a lot of study dates too

You teach him some things and vice versa

But the common trend amongst your study sessions is how they end

You'll start rambling about a topic you're passionate about and Ushijima will go silent, listening to you while admiring every part of your face and body

He'd look at you hands and touch them gently as you talk - his much bigger and rough hands juxtaposing yours, which he fucking loved

Then Ushijima would focus on your lips and eyes, until you notice and slowly go quiet

You'd look at him too for a split second, admiring his messy hair and sharp jaw

Until he interrupts your staring

"You're so gorgeous, (y/n)" Wakatoshi would softly say, then slowly moving in to kiss you

The work on the desk is long forgotten once you position yourself on Ushi's lap, making out like hormonal teens, his huge hands on your hips, subtly asserting his dominance over you

The more you two make out, the more depseperate you both get, your hips involuntarily grinding in short ruts against your boyfriend's bulge

Ushijima maneuvers you with his hands on your hips, his eyes closed as his tongue dances with yours

Your hands on you boyfriends strong, huge chest, rutting more and more against him as small moans and whines escape your throat

"Fuck you're so hot, (y/n)... I fucking love you" Ushijima mumbles against your ear as he breaks the kiss, leaving kisses down your neck to your nape

Your arms wrap around his neck as you mumble a quick "i love you too" in between breathy, quiet moans

You're both fully hard by now, making out for a further 15 minuets, just enjoying eachothers touch

Ushijima's hand is gripping your hair gently, guiding your mouth as he makes out with you

However, Ushijima notices how desperate you're getting and stands up, picking you up with him

Your legs wrap around your huge boyfriends waist , his lips still clashing against yours

He lays you on your back on his bed, not breaking contact with your lips even once

Ushijimas hands roam your body, palming your crotch and waist and thighs

Your arm hooks around you huge biyfriend's neck while your other arm reaches around Wakatishi's back

He breaks the kiss and looks down at you, admiring your panting, dishevelled state for a moment

"(Y/n)... can I eat you out?" Ushijima asks nonchalantly

"W-Woah wait aren't your parents here right now?" You ask, your boyfriend's question catching you off gaurd

But Ushi could tell you wanted to do it from how your dick twitched against his palm at the mention of him giving you head

"They're on the other side of the estate, don't worry about it, darling" Ushijima says with a soft look on his eyes, his fingers slipping under your waistband and slipping your bottoms and underwear down your thighs

"O-Okay then!" You sit up, looking your biyfriend in the eyes with a glimmer of excitement in yours

The brunette chuckles, fucking hell Ushijima loves you

Cut to just a few minutes later, you're a moaning, panting, whiny mess

Your legs are raised, feet flat on the bed while a pillow props your neck up just enough to watch as your boyfriend feasts on your hole

"Fuck, (y/n)! You taste incredible!" Wakatoshi grunts while looking up at you from below, his chin covered in a waterfall of his spit, his hair frizzy from your tugging and his eyes hazy with lust

You chuckle as Wakatoshi gets back to it

You watch as your boyfriend tries to subtly rut against the bed, eating you out making him incredibly hard

You pant like a bitch in heat, moaning like a porn star fir your boyfriend as he shoves his warm tongue into your hole

"Shit darling.. Mind if I do more?"

"Do.... Haaaa~ Do whatever you want, Ushi~" you say breathily

If you were loud before, fucking hell you were rasing the roof now

Ushijima slicked up his long, thick fingers with his spit and started toying with you ass, spreading your hole and curling into your prostate constantly

While he was gently working you open, your boyfriend also decided to pay your twitching, touch-starved dick some attention

Your hands dart to Wakatoshi's hair, tangling your fingers in his brown locks while your boyfriend laps at your dick while he abuses your prostate

You tug at his hair as he blows you and fingers you, your moans echoing throughout the room like a porn shoot

Ushijima was loving every moment of it, your face, the noises you were making and fucking hell you taste so good

By the end of what was supposed to be a study session, you and Ushijima are laying in his bed, him laying on top of you

"Wakatoshi. You're crushing me." You murmmer

"Hm... I can't wait to call you Wakatoshi too"

"Sorry!??!?" You shout, your high-school boyfriend daydreaming about marrying you catching you off gaurd

"What darling? I can't Fantasise about you like that?" Ushijima teases you

"Shush! We're in high-school lemme at least graduate first! Plus... who says I'm taking your name"

"My wallet is."

"Shush" you hit your boyfriend playfully

#gay #male reader #x male reader #fanfic #cute gay #fluff #gay smut #light smut #haikyuu x male reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x male reader #ushijima smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader insert #x male reader smut #male reader smut

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mikichko · 21 days

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ushijima has one of your engagement pictures framed and hung so it's visible as soon as anyone enters your home.

it's a bit out of character for him, honestly. incredibly ornate, immense, and dramatic.

and it's not that he doesn't partake in romantic gestures, you'll never deny that. but, his gestures are usually intimate and reserved for the two of you. his love for you and how he honors it is meant for you and you alone.

to ushijima though, this picture is a testament to your love. something that shouldn't only be framed but displayed for everyone to see. for those who step foot into your home to understand that this is one, if not the proudest achievement of his life. to understand the adoration and devotion that's housed within these walls.

it resembles an art piece, from the positioning down to the framing. at 147cm wide and 112cm tall, it takes up the majority of the wall opposite the entryway. it's frame is thick midnight wood, with waves carved by hand that glint with the gold and bronze finish. the sloping profile of the frame reminds him of the sea, it's tide, and the pull the moon has on the salty body. looking at the picture, it's easy to see you are his moon.

in the picture, the sunlight filters through gaps in the clouds, a glow surrounding your figure. highlighting your body's movements as you're captured mid-laugh. you're tucked into ushijima's right side, an arm wrapped around you securing you to him. head thrown back, silent laughter escaping your lips, with rays of light highlighting patches of your skin, ushijima is captured by you. in that moment, his torso turns towards you, eyes soft as he gazes at you with such affection you'd have missed it if not captured. in that frozen moment, with unabashed loving looks and gentle smiles, ushijima wakatoshi is captured at his happiest.

a/n: trying to get the code writing out of my head and get the real writing in there but as you can tell im still fighting that battle LOL

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mambalae-s · 1 year

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fallen glory — ushijima wakatoshi x reader

wc: 3.2k words

cw: god! wakatoshi x nymph! reader; unprotected sex; breeding kink; size kink; wakatoshi is a big boi; reader is described as a black woman; degradation; manhandling; ; creampie; not proof read; if i’m forgetting anything please let me know!

notes from author: please, if you’re under 18, do NOT interact with or read this post. i will block you.

there are legends among mortal towns, the tellings of stories passed on by flesh and bone. a god, mankind will utter through shrouds of smoke, beneath fire-lit nights of centuries old, where the stars would even hold their breath to hear the words of divine destruction. a god so mighty and fearsome that wields power in his breath alone, that the earth would tear herself apart and offer her burning heart, that she would so desperately beseech her master that this mere sacrifice would be enough to please him. mankind would sing those sorrow-filled ballads of flaming rivers that sputtered brilliant embers, so brilliant in their dying glory that venus herself would weep and beg for mercy.

and this god, oh, this righteous and almighty god, his heart would mirror the depths of darkness. how cruel, this god, that he would beckon the tempests and the floods to destroy and ruin the earth, that he would paint wars and famine across endless seas and planes until there would be nothing left of man. when he bestows his wrath on bellowing thunders and rips the heavens asunder with magnificent lightning, he holds no mercy for the weak and unfaithful. his eyes behold, and his left hand cast their judgement, and the earth can do nothing but wait with bated breath as the universe stands still around her, powerless, and without charge of the pestilence that would next consume her and wipe her filthy soul clean once more.

oh, but who could imagine the divine’s demise at the hands of a damsel?

let these words not travel far, lest they spread across continents and reveal him for what he is. let the world not know of his mortality, of a heart that quivers before summer-touched evenings and sings wretched hymns of manly lust and desire. of his visits to the holy garden, they must not learn, even less should they know of the soul that resides there — the very same that would tame the tempest, and incite a hunger so ravenous and feral only to quench it all the same.

he’s here; you know without even looking, and your intuition tells you that he knows that you know. you don’t need to look behind you to know that wakatoshi’s watching you, eyes of gold and olive that stalk you like a hunter. he takes in every part of your image as a devotee does with visions. the droplets of water that glisten across dark brown skin, the sheer white fabric that clings to your full mounds and ass, barely doing anything to conceal your perked nipples, or the dip between your plush thighs. by the heavens, you truly are a vision of sin and desire — one that held the key to destruction between two-toned lips and written like scriptures among dark coils of hair akin to sacred vines.

“well?” you sigh, sinking further into the pond. the cool water kisses your skin with a tenderness that washes away the day’s searing heat. goosebumps rise across your body and you lull your head to the side, and that’s when you see him, your god come here to visit the garden of eden. “will you just stand there or are you gonna join me?”

how brazen, you must’ve sounded, irreverent as if you knew not the god who’d walked into your sanctuary. yet you knew all too well who he was, and you knew what he’d come for. you knew that, just with the sight of your body drenched in water, you could unravel this benevolent god and reduce him to nothing but a man lost in desire. since the first day he found you here on a lonely spring’s afternoon so many years ago, you’d somehow wrapped his tongue between your teeth and poisoned him with pleasure untold so that he would return time and time again. he reminds you of a lunatic, seeking the taste of your nectar like a man who knows nothing else, and you’d become his drug and his achilles heel, the very thing that could unwind this god and render him to nothingness.

the waters part to make way, welcoming wakatoshi into the pool as he comes close to you. his body presses against yours and he leaves no room between, so greedy in the way his fingers dip into your waist and burying his face into the crook of your neck to take in your scent. you reach up one hand to wrap into his long, jade green locks, and you pull him closer to you, eager to feel his lips leaving soft kisses across your skin.

“i can’t stop thinking about you…” he grumbles into your jawline, hungry and impatient. his fingers wrap into the thin fabric of your gown, nails digging into your flesh as he pulls you closer, pressing his hard cock into your ass as if he wants it to disappear between it. “fuck, what are you doing to me?”

you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips, though you know there’d be no sense trying to. coyly, you reach for one of his hands and bring it down to your pussy, pressing his palm flat against it and pushing yourself further against his length. “nothing, darling.” the words that leave you are teasing, almost to test him — accentuated by your sugary laugh when his fingers begin to peel your dress against your skin without you needing to tell him. “it’s you who keeps coming back here on your own accord.”

his fingers dip between your thighs and your knees buckle a bit when they brush against your pussy. you’re wet, wakatoshi discovers your slick already pooling into his hands despite him hardly even touching you. tauntingly, he caresses you, pools your slick along his fingers as he so barely slides them between your swollen cunt to hear the hiss that slips out of your mouth.

“look at you,” he chuckles, condescending. “so needy already, hm? do you want a god’s cock to defile you that badly?”

he’s baiting you, drawing on your words like a puppeteer, you know it. only touching you ever so slightly, giving you the smallest taste of what he knows you want, yet he wants you to beg for it. he wants you to throw yourself unto desperate abandon and give yourself up to him. and it’s working too damn well. greedily, you try to sink yourself down on his fingers, but he quickly stops you with a hand around your throat. frustrated, you whimper. “wakatoshi…” you keen. “for god’s sake, stop toying with me already!”

his teeth sink into your neck suddenly, the sensation of his lips sucking on your flesh causing your pussy to flutter. “nngh…” overcome with weakness, your head falls back against his chest, and your eyes are forced to behold the behemoth of a man behind you; the glistening droplets that slide down olive skin and the furrowed lines atop his expression. his lips part on breaths heavy and weighted as he squeezes his fingers tighter around your throat, and your own breath catches beneath his grip. you’re left wanting, needing the very air he robs you of, needing him inside your core, needing him and everything he’d give to you.

ah, you think bitterly, i’ll lose this war again today.

“you know what i want to hear from you, little one.” wakatoshi’s words ghost against the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver, heat coursing through each pulse despite the chill of the water. he takes his hand from your soiled thighs and brings his fingers to his mouth, and you watch with eyes glazed by lust as he sucks your juices from them and groans. “hurry…” he huffs. his cock twitches against your ass impatiently, his balls almost ready to burst and bury themselves inside your tight little cunt. “you know i don’t like waiting…”

those words so heavy and fogged over by hunger, you know he’s teetering on the very edge of snapping, letting you know that you’re not the only one who wants the other. he makes slow, intentional work of licking his fingers clean and he sees the way your inhibitions snap behind your eyes, revels in the whimper that leaves your lips as your hands fly to remove your dress all on your own. your breasts fall freely for him to see them glistening under filtered sunlight and of sight of your pursed nipples causes his length to twitch hungrily against your ass.

“please…!” inhibitions abandon you, your pride lost on the incessant pulsing between your legs. you need him to fill you, to ravish and demolish you — you’re aching now, impatient, craving him, “please, toshi, i need you inside me… now!”

you see the very moment wakatoshi reaches his limits and he snaps.

a yelp escapes you as he hoists you up, spinning you around to lock your legs around his hip. his lips crash into yours, mercilessly pushing his tongue into your wet cavern like a beast as he drinks you in. he feels your moans rumbling through his chest and he responds in kind, the space between you non-existent and your body flushed against him.

“that’s a good girl.” whimpering, you claw your fingers into his back as if holding on for dear life. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?” you want to curse him for toying with you, want to shut that filthy, irreverent mouth of his but your mind is too cloudy to give anything but sweet pleas of his name. drool pools from between your lips as he draws his tongue along your neck, suckling and biting every inch of skin. you’ll bruise blue and purple, you know it, but you can’t bring yourself to care. you want him to mark you, want him to possess your body and soul.

your fingers tangle into his tresses of green hair and you pull, causing him to hiss against your neck. “enough already, wakatoshi..!” despite your harsh words, you know they sound like nothing but muddled pleas to him. he’s so much bigger than you, it’s hard to forget he still has control over you — the way his large palms squeeze your ass, the way your body has to sit just above his hip, it’s hard to forget that fact.

“just fuck me already! you act like you don’t know the things you do to me, haah, like you don’t know how much you make me want you even— nngh, even when… you’re not here…”

ah, but how unfair of you, isn’t it? how can you accuse him of such things when really, you’re the one who does this to him? how could you not know that your visage haunts him day and night? that he dreams of taking you over and over, of pumping your hole full of his seed until your tummy would swell? that even then, he’d keep filling you up, keening to hear those sweet, filthy cries of his name over and over? you must know what you do to him; he growls against your skin, sinking his teeth into your collar and causing you to cry out and pull against his hair. “then tell me what you want, darling…”

frustration bubbles within you like an erotic poison as you glare down into emerald orbs. have you not been clear enough for him? what prayers would it take to satisfy this insatiable god? for him to finally give himself to you and abandon all else? you’re already powerless here in his hands, your dress reduced to a soaking bundle that wraps around your waist where his hands palm your bare skin. the tip of his cock only barely touching your core, and you can do nothing but wait until he sinks you down unto it. struggle as you might, your need couldn’t be fulfilled until he wills it, until he finally lets in and use you like you want to be used.

“i want you to take responsibility…” pettily, you huff, eyes narrowing further at the coy grin that sits on his mouth. even with his flushed cheeks and your spit coating his skin, he looks up at you, waiting for you to finish. “i want you to destroy me and fuck me senseless. i want you to force me to take every drop of seed and use me until your fat cock empties out everything inside me.”

wakatoshi hums, pleased, it seems, by your words, though he knows he wouldn’t have been able to hold off any longer even if he hadn’t wrung them out of you. oh, the things you do to him without even knowing that turn him into a wild beast. he all but eagerly lines up the head of his throbbing dick to your entrance, and the warmth of it is already so welcoming as he parts your pussy lips, teasingly rubbing your clit.

“take responsibility, hm?” he purrs against your skin as you whimper, soon forcing out the loveliest scream of his name as he brings you down in one swift motion. he watched your eyes roll into the back of your head, drinks in the way your lips fly open as his length spreads you apart. his own eyes narrow and he clenches his teeth — your tight walls squeeze around him so deliciously, so small and delicate as they clamp around the intrusion. “such a pretty, fragile little doll, aren’t you? fuck…!”

god, he hadn’t even fully sunken into you yet, and already he felt himself hitting the tip of your cervix, pressing deeper and deeper and causing your entire body to convulse as drool pours from your lips, fat tears pooling on your waterline. your orgasm wrecks your body in waves and you tremble, already fucked too weak to even support yourself. helplessly, you fall limp into wakatoshi’s arms, neck lulling back so that you’re forced to look up at the god above you, forced to watch his face contort in mortal pleasure as your hole continues to needily suck him in.

“aww…” he coos at your pathetic form. he brings one hand to cup your messy cheek while the other continues to support your weight, pushing a thumb into your open lips. almost mindlessly, you latch unto it and begin sucking. “already? kitten, i’ve hardly done anything to you yet.” even then, wakatoshi wants more from you. he wants to fuck you senseless, break you to nothingness until you couldn’t think of anything but him inside you. so he pushes, deep past your walls until he fully buries himself inside you, his tip so deliciously hitting your womb. you squeal and tighten your legs at the sensation of him bottoming out of you, dig your nails deep into his arms as if to ground yourself from slipping further.

“w-wait…! please, toshi—!” you cry, though your words are lost on him, drowned by his heavy breaths as he presses his lips against yours, pleas swallowed up while your body shakes. “i only just came, i’m— nngaah! ‘m too sensitive, slow down— fuck! ahh!”

despite your begging, wakatoshi doesn’t give you a moment to recover. he sets a relentless pace of pounding into you, pushing deeper and deeper, the sound of his balls clapping so filthily against your slick not yet enough to hide each honey-coated wail he forces out of you. “you said to… hnngn— take responsibility, didn’t you?” roughly, he wraps his hand around your throat and forces you to look up at him, all so he can take in that beautifully fucked expression you wear, teardrops lining your lashes and your mouth wantonly gasping for air. “that’s exactly what i’m doing, darling. isn’t this what you wanted?”

“yes..!” you can’t deny it. lying to him would be no use, it’s too late to try. your body’s already betrayed you for the pleasure he gives you, your battered hole pulsing around him with each thrust as he stretched you impossibly wide. “yes, wakatoshi..! fuck! i wanted you to fuck me n use me just like this!”

he chuckles, sinful and ungodly, as he releases his hold on your throat to place it around your waist and pulls you down, over and over, repeatedly until your body can do naught but fall to his mercy. “haah..! nngh….! fuck, fuck, fuuuck!”

“that’s it, kitten, just like that.” oh, heavens help him, he already feels himself beginning to waver, his hips staggering as he drives into you. he’s so close, his cock twitching viciously inside your beaten pussy, so close to exploding and filling you up. “take everything, you hear me? i’m gonna cum deep inside your filthy little cunt, and you better take all of it. gonna breed you again and again.”

“mhn! mhn! mhhn!” you’re far too gone to even understand the words he growls at you, far too gone to care for much else other than the sensation of him breaking you apart, or for the prayer you let escape your corrupted heart. “do it..! do it, waka…! let everything out and cum inside me, please, please, please!”

oh, how good did it feel to be at his mercy, to let him ruin you time and time again, at his beck and call. beneath his hold, you release all senseless moral and surrender to the wicked hunger of a being far greater than you. without warning, your body convulses beneath your pleasure as your second orgasm crashes over you. it rips through every vein in your body and releases itself from your core and you scream, your mind gone blank as you cream and squirt all over him. the very coil wound so tightly within your gut breaks like a tidal wave and pushes you off the edge, and after a few more harsh thrusts, you’re granted your reward.

wakatoshi grunts and gasps as his cock bursts his cum inside you, near panting as he pulls you flush against his hip and forces every drop into your delicate womb. his fingers dig deep into your doughy flesh, moans falling from him like a man needing air. he’d spent every last drop inside of you, his chest heaves on the aftershocks of pleasure, but gods be damned, he isn’t through with you yet. you, crumbled against his chest and fucked positively dumb, he hadn’t yet had his fill of you.

“h-hey, wakatoshi, what’re you—!” your startled shout goes unheard by the god as he forces you off his cock, only to bend you over rear up against the edge of the pool. shivers involuntary wreck your body, your whole clenching and your form already weakened by him. “please, i can’t take anymore, lemme rest a little— gaah!”

he silences you quickly by pushing his fingers into your stretched hole, pushing his cum back inside you as your walls object, already far too sensitive. “didn’t you hear me?” he grins, though you can’t see his expression from behind you. so, he pulls you up by your neck, grinning as he towers over your small frame. oh, how feeble and defenseless you stood before him, your legs couldn’t even support your frame, and it was all because of him.

“i said i’d make sure to fill up this tight little cunt. i’m not just done with you yet.”

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milktei · 2 days

Text

Homecoming

Ushijima Wakatoshi x gn!reader

Genre: Sickfic, hurt comfort

Warnings: Slight manga spoilers

Requests: Closed*

a/n: hello hello! (is acting like i haven’t been gone for forever), can you believe i found this just sitting on a random note in my phone 90% done???? i literally wrote this over a year ago and never found the motivation to finish it ;-; due to its age toshi might be a bit ooc.

anyways, i’m not entirely back yet but i keep seeing lovely comments and reblogs that just make me want to start writing again ;-; maybe with the haikyuu movie being released soon my motivation will amp back up. ALSO i’m gonna try to start reblogging regularly again

*request box is still technically “closed” but if anyone has some genshin or *ahem* Baldurs gate 3 requests, i may be inclined to write if they pique my interest :)

enjoy!

If there was one thing that you knew for an absolute fact. it would be that volleyball would always be his main priority.

You knew this well before you started dating him, it was part of the reason you refused to admit your true feelings for him. You refused to take him away from his first love. Something that he was so visibly passionate about.

So you stayed on the sidelines, watching wistfully as the boy you had a crush on rose higher and higher, while you stood on the ground looking up in awe. This was comfortable, you were content with just watching and admiring. It was all you thought you were able to do.

Until he had asked you out first.

You had genuinely thought that Tendou was joking when he had told you that the Ushijima Wakatoshi saw you as anything more than one of the team’s managers.

His face was always devoid of emotion. Your interactions were limited to him nodding in thanks as you gave him a towel or water bottle, or him humming in acknowledgment as you relayed to him the notes you took after the most recent practice match.

And yet you found yourself standing in front of him, just outside the gym after practice, heart absolutely racing as he asked you out on a date.

Your first date was awkward to say the least. Having never spoken outside of club activities, you found it hard to keep a conversation flowing as you two sat in a cafe sipping your drinks.

He had walked you back to your dorm that day, but before you could go in, he had grabbed your hand.

You stared in shock at the large hand enveloping yours, “Ushijima?”

Suddenly, you felt a tiny gust of wind and a slight pressure against your forehead. You could only stammer dumbly as you realized the pressure was his lips.

He pulled away after a moment. He was heavily avoiding eye contact and turned his head to the side, but you could see the tips of his ears turning red.

“I don’t know much when it comes to this stuff. But I know I would like to go out again… if that’s okay with you of course.”

You gaped at the boy in front of you “I- um we…” you took a deep breath to centre yourself and smiled “Yes I would like to go out with you again Ushijima.”

Your relationship progressed quite fast after that. More dates, hanging out with him and Tendou in their dorm.

You were there for everything, cheering him on during games, you were the first person he would seek out when he won, you comforted him after a loss.

Your relationship lasted through high school and even university. It wasn’t long before you two ended up moving in together.

When Wakatoshi found his place with the Schweiden Adlers you were ecstatic. You had also just landed a great job and it felt like your two were simply cruising through life with ease.

Unfortunately your seemingly perfect life would never last forever.

Being in the v-league, volleyball seemed to fill his schedule more now than ever. Constant practice, games outside of the city even in other countries sometimes.

You hardly saw Ushijima anymore despite living with him. Even when you did, he was tired or just about to leave for practice.

It felt like you were pushed back into the sidelines. Watching hopelessly as he rose higher and higher, to places where you could not reach. It was no longer comfortable, you could no longer look in awe, but in despair as you watch him slip from the already loose grasp you had on him.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you went on a date. Every time you mentioned doing something in his free time he had brushed you off.

Which led you to now.

You woke up to an empty bed yet again. It was your day off so you weren’t rushing to get out of bed.

Yet you felt off.

The dryness in your mouth and throat is what you felt first. Then how runny your nose was. Finally, the cold sweat you were experiencing.

You were definitely sick.

You groaned to yourself and pulled the blanket to your chin. Hoping that you could possibly sleep it off.

Yet your efforts were in vain. After what felt like hours of trying to fall back asleep you realized that you were just going to feel even more miserable without anything to eat or at least drink.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and immediately regretted it. The world spun around you and your entire body shook. You collapsed back onto your pillow and panted at the exertion it took.

As you caught your breath you turned your head towards your bedside table, where your phone sat charging.

Weakly, you lifted your arm and with a bit of effort you were able to grab your phone. As it turned on you winced at how bright the screen was and with bleary eyes you managed to open your contacts.

The words seemed to blend together as you searched through your contacts, you nearly sobbed in relief as your eyes finally focused on the name of your best friend.

You clicked the call button and dropped you hand to beside your ear, preparing for the way your throat would undoubtedly hurt as you spoke.

After a couple rings you heard the person on the other side pick up and you quickly began speaking, desperate to get them to come quickly so that you could hopefully feel better.

“Hey, I’m sorry if you’re busy but do you think you can bring me some drinks and maybe food? i’m not feeling the best and I don’t know if I can get up at all.”

The person on the other end of the phone began talking but you could barely decipher it as your head spun and your body shivered despite how warm you were.

“-/n….y/n?”

You froze at the deep voice on the other side of the phone. You pulled away an looked at the screen, nearly breaking down at the sight of Wakatoshi’s name instead of your friends. Quickly you put it back against your ear

“Ah I’m sorry Toshi. I meant to call a friend you’re probably busy you don’t have to come back home.” you said quickly, actually sitting up as you rambled nervously, reprimanding yourself for interrupting his practice.

You had called and texted him during practice before. At one point he was fine with it, responding during breaks or calling you back once practice had finished. But lately you had been greeted with one worded responses, or you were just ignored.

One time you even tried to pry once he got home from practice, asking him about his odd lack of response. That day, he had turned to glare at you.

“I’m busy y/n. I don’t have time for things like that.”

“You’re sick?” your thoughts were interrupted by his voice again. He used a tone much gentler than the one he had used that day.

“A little bit, nothing to worry about I can just call-“ you cut yourself off with a harsh cough, unable to hold back the whimper as your throat throbbed in protest.

“I’m coming home.”

Whether from his words or the fever you couldn’t tell, but a chill ran down your spine

“N-no toshi you don’t have to I’ll be fine don’t leave practice just because of me”

“I’ll stop by the store for some ingredients don’t get out of bed.”

And with that the call ended. Slowly, you took the phone away from your ear and looked at it in shock. He was leaving practice early. Something you weren’t aware he was willing to ever do.

At least not recently.

Only when the shock settled, did you realize just how much your body was protesting you sitting up. So, despite your better judgment, you lied back down, waiting in nervous anticipation for him to come home.

What might have been half an hour felt like forever as you laid in bed. Shivering underneath the comforter despite sweating profusely, rubbing your nose raw from having to blow it constantly, all whilst it felt like you were spinning.

In your haze you didn’t even hear the front door or you bedroom door open. How could you when your body demanded all the attention you had?

Wakatoshi stood frozen in the doorway, a plastic bag hanging off his arm, silent as he took in the state you were in.

How hadn’t he noticed before he left? you couldn’t have possibly entered this state within the couple of hours he was gone.

He felt a tug of unease pull at his heart and willed himself to walk up to you.

“y/n,” he called softly. sitting on your side of the bed.

You flinched at the sound of his voice not knowing he was in the room. Slowly, you opened your eyes and winced at the light in the room.

“Toshi,” you croaked pathetically.

His face softened and he brushed your damp hair away from your face, frowning when he felt how warm your forehead was.

“Hey,” he greeted, he lifted a hand and that’s when you saw a thermometer from the medicine cabinet in his hand “can you open your mouth please?“

Weakly, you did as he asked, and as it sat in your mouth, he quickly walked towards the master bathroom. Mumbling something about a towel.

You didn’t hear him however as you turned your head back towards the ceiling and already felt your eyes drooping again.

You only came to when you felt something cool against your forehead, you opened your eyes to see Toshi looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. The thermometer beeped and when he looked at the reading the crease deepened.

Toshi disappeared for a moment again, making his presence known when he began to take the comforter off of you.

You whined as he did so, shivering even harder as air hit your body. You even sat up to try and grab it back.

“‘s cold toshi,” you slurred.

He was quick to place a thinner sheet on top of you “I know dear, but we have to get your body temperature down.”

As you pulled the blanket closer Wakatoshi opened the bag he brought with him. You heard the rattle of a pill container and then the crack of a bottle being opened. Wakatoshi turned to you and held out some medicine and water.

You reached out a shaky hand to take the medicine, placing the pill in your mouth. Wakatoshi helped you hold the bottle, noting how weak your arms were.

You sighed in temporary relief when you finished drinking, glad that your mouth felt less dry.

Wakatoshi allowed a small relieved smile to cross his face and he quickly helped you lay back down.

“I’ll make you some food, stay here.”

Once he was sure you were comfortable he made his way to the kitchen quickly getting his ingredients ready.

It was only when he was midway through washing some rice when he took a moment to pause.

When was the last time he had cooked for you?

Wakatoshi continued his task albeit feeling guilty thinking about how you’ve been the one cooking and eating dinner alone for some time now. It used to be a shared responsibility. Now he usually came home late so you would put a plate aside for him or he would go out to eat with the team.

He was still deep in though as he pushed the bedroom door open with his back, a tray consisting of a bowl of rice porridge and a cup of tea left a trail small trail of steam as he walked.

You were asleep but woke easily at the sound of his footsteps. It took a moment for your eyes to focus on him.

He gestured with the tray, “Do you think you can eat?”

You looked at the food, perfectly plated and garnished, your mouth watering slightly at the savoury smell.

“I think so. At least a little bit.”

He helped you sit up, and when he saw the weakness still in your arms he fed you himself.

You hummed contently at the first bite of food. You had missed this more than you thought you did.

After about half the bowl was done and your tea finished, you signalled that you stomached as much as your body would allow. Now with your body temperature having gone down and your stomach full you could feel yourself becoming less and less loopy. You watched quietly as he put the tray on the bedside table. When he was finished with that, he sat still on the bed and stared at the wall.

You looked at his face, despite it deceptively lacking emotion, you knew better than anyone else that something was bothering him.

However before you could ask he began to speak

“Why wasn’t I the first person you contacted when you realized that you were sick?”

You froze, looking down in your lap fiddling wIth a loose thread in the blanket.

“…Well…you’ve been busy as of late….I didn’t think it was important enough to take you out of practice. Someone less busy would have probably been willing to come.”

He slowly turned to face you. “You didn’t think that your wellbeing was important enough?”

You shrugged, “Well volleyball is always going to be your biggest priority. I’m just sick it’ll pass.”

Obvious distress crossed Ushijima’s face “y/n, you are my main priority.”

You paused. Perhaps it was time to tell him how you were really feeling instead of dancing around the subject.

“…It hasn’t felt that way lately.” you say hesitantly, your voice small.

Wakatoshi faltered. You kept looking down, almost scared to look him in the eye.

“I was content with that at first, your love of volleyball is admirable, it’s was drew me to you at first. But it always made you seem unattainable. When you asked me on that date all those years ago I was over the moon,” you paused to clear your throat huffing in annoyance as your sickness interrupted you.

“But I can only endure so much Toshi. Nowadays it feels like your going where I can’t reach. You’re always busy, which is understandable for a professional athlete… I just wish it wasn’t to the point where I’m worried about your reaction if I were to try to talk to you.”

There was a shift in the mattress. Then familiar arms that you had been longing for wrapped tightly around you.

“Toshi you’re gonna get sick.”

“It’s fine,”

“but-“

“I’m sorry y/n.”

you stiffened but stayed quiet to let him speak.

“You’ve done so much for me without complaint and I have done so little in return. i’m sorry for letting it get to this point. It took you getting this sick for me to realize.”

A stormy look crossed his face, “I… I’ve been struggling to balance work and home, in return I’ve been neglecting you and letting how tired I am influence my reactions. you don’t deserve that. you are my first priority y/n, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You sniffled and wiped a tear that fell from your face. You didn’t even know you were crying. For a man usually so quiet and stoic, he always knew what to say to you when he needed to. It was always so endearing to you.

“If I had known you were going to take it this well I would’ve said something earlier,” you say softly.

He smiles sadly, “I haven’t been making it seem that way hmm?”

You shake you’re head but smile back, “no”

He sighs to himself but places a gentle kiss against your forehead much like how he did all those years ago. Your eyes flutter shut and you make let out a pleased sigh. You were much more comfortable than you were when you first woke up.

“We’ll talk more once you get better. I promise,” He eventually says. holding you a bit closer to him.

You nodded and snuggled closer to his chest. While it wasn’t an immediate fix, it was a start.

“Sounds good to me Toshi.”

He smiled down at you “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

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therealvalkyrie · 8 months

Text

the morning, the evening

Pairing/setting: Farmer!Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: very fluffy, implied sex, reader wants a baby AN: I've been working on this sporadically for *checks watch* 2.5 years so I hope y'all fucking like it lmao. I really struggled with tying up the ending, so if it feels abrupt that's why! also was too intimidated to try and write baby-making smut, so feel free to imagine those particular shenanigans in your own huge and wrinkly brainsicle. love you all! ~valkyrie

It’s on mornings like this that you feel most unlike yourself. When you slip out of bed before your husband and tug on one of his huge flannels, the sun just peeking into your window. It’s too early. Too early to think, too early for food, too early to do anything but slip out onto the porch in bare feet and curl up on the porch swing. The birds are just waking up with you -- chickadees singing a greeting and the chickens clucking softly in reply. The dewy air sends goosebumps up your bare legs and settles in your lungs as mist clings to the ground. It makes you feel a little lost, a little out of place; mornings have never been meant for you.

When your husband wakes up with the rooster, he joins you on the porch swing, the screen door creaking shut behind him, and hands you a cup of coffee. You lean into his sturdy side and clutch your third favorite mug with both hands (the handle broke last year when you dropped it on the kitchen tile). He doesn’t say anything, just presses his lips to your temple and looks out to the mountains with you. He knows you’ve never been meant for mornings.

When his yellow mug is empty, he rubs your bent knee with a huge hand and leaves you to start farm chores. You may be entitled to a slow start, but the horses expect breakfast before 7 or they’ll be ornery all day.

The sun burns enough dew away for the farmhand’s truck to kick up dust as he drives up your long driveway -- your cue to go put on pants. Back in the bedroom, the stained glass ornaments hanging in the windows are casting shifting rainbows on the wall. This is what lifts your lips for the first time today and prompts the first sip of tepid coffee. You sprawl out on your unmade bed, stretching like a cat in a sunspot made just for you.

By the time you pad downstairs in jeans and an airy blouse, the morning has begrudgingly made a space for you in between its sense of purpose and quiet watchfulness. You set about making breakfast and more coffee, nudging the kitchen awake. You say good morning to the toaster and the butter bell and the kettle on the stove and purposely ignore the dishwasher, which has been giving attitude since the weekend.

You’re murmuring quietly to a pancake when Wakatoshi clomps back in, hanging his hat on the hook by the door.

“Good morning,” you greet, offering up your cheek, which he kisses along with a heavy hand on your hip.

“Does the pancake ever talk back?” he wonders aloud, looking over your shoulder into your cast iron pan.

“Not yet,” you reach for your spatula and grin up at him, “which is what makes it such a good listener.”

He hums thoughtfully and squeezes your waist with his big hand before turning away to reach for plates from the cupboard.

Breakfast passes in conversation about the farrier visiting in the afternoon -- some horses are due for new shoes -- between bites of food. Toshi disappears out the back door to start the rest of his day and you load dishes into the dishwasher. It grumbles to life after a swift kick to the bottom left corner. You’ll have to call the plumber before the weekend.

You’re feeling halfway back to yourself again when you settle into your creaky wooden office chair. It’s nearly the end of the month, which means today is for paying bills and making calls. It’s not nearly as much of a task as it was when you first took over the business side of the farm. Then, you’d had to wade through fifty years of an unintelligible filing system and re-negotiate deals that Wakatoshi’s grandparents had made just as long ago. You’ve always had a way with numbers and a sense for business; it’s the local politics that gave you trouble. People this far into farming country simply don’t trust outsiders, no matter if they’re married to the local golden boy.

Wakatoshi says it had been the same for his father, coming in as an outsider and marrying the beloved daughter of a beloved family. That’s why he’d left, when Toshi was just a kid, never having managed to really feel at home in the community or on the farm.

“But he didn’t have the advantage of your smile,” he’d joked, poking the corner of your mouth gently as you lay in bed late one night a couple of weeks after your wedding.

You’d giggled, swatting his hand away and burying your face into his broad chest. “Do you really think they’ll like me?” you asked in a small voice after a quiet moment.

“They’ll love you. Just like I do.”

You wouldn’t quite say they love you, but the town has at least grown to tolerate you after you’d asserted yourself into their daily lives. Miss Betty at the feed store still doesn’t give you a discount on grain like she had your mother-in-law, and Mary Fletcher still calls you a gold digger behind your back. But at least you’ve made good enough friends with her cousin Amber, who boards her horse in your stables and comes by almost every weekend, to hear about it.

You begin to sweat as the summer announces that it’s still here in the late morning and turn on the rotating fan in an effort to stay cool. The dial of the old rotary phone whirs under your fingertips as you call up the bank, one bare foot bouncing in the air where your leg dangles over the armrest of your chair and receiver cradled to your ear.

It’s a tedious conversation with Laurie, the one and only bank teller, whose daughter is going off to college in just a couple of weeks, that carries you over into lunchtime. You eventually manage to steer her in the direction of the purpose of your call, learning, amidst tidbits about her daughter’s roommate and her son’s soccer tryouts, that your check to the vet had bounced because of an error on the bank’s end. Thank God.

“Shit, that woman can talk,” you breathe when the receiver is safely in its cradle, and Laurie won’t threaten to wash out your mouth with soap for using foul language.

With a deep exhale, you allow your head to fall onto the back of the chair, languishing in the buzzing heat. For the millionth time this summer, you think back to your tiny city apartment, with its shitty water pressure and shitty commute and heavenly air conditioning. What you wouldn’t give….

Well, you wouldn’t give up Wakatoshi, for one.

And you’d had that, with him. You fit him into your tiny shower, washing each other’s bodies and then fucking on the bathroom counter when he couldn’t figure out how to finagle his limbs to fit. He kissed you every morning before work, pressing a packed lunch into your hands.

He proposed under your favorite oak tree in the park at peak foliage, asking you to marry him and move back to his home. You said yes.

You meant it.

But, God. This heat.

The afternoon drags you down, oppressive and lingering, and you find yourself incapable of thinking anymore.

You pass Wakatoshi on your way across the driveway and give him a brief wave, your ring of keys hanging off your middle finger.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” you call as he takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his sweaty hair.

He watches the way your legs propel you up into the elevated cab of his truck, loaded with some buzzing anxiety to move, even through this thick air.

“Okay,” he says.

The first summer you knew Wakatoshi, he invited you to visit home with him for a week. You weren’t together yet, still dancing on the periphery of a relationship with that youthful arrogance of those barely touching adulthood. Halfway through the six-hour drive from the city, he pulled over at a farmstand and bought peaches and lemonade. You ate them in the bed of his truck parked under a maple tree, boughs flush with green and peach juice slipping down your chin.

These grocery store peaches aren’t quite as tender -- you’re just too far North to get them really fresh -- but they’ll do. Still, you worry they’ll bruise as you set the paper grocery bag on the passenger seat next to the bakery box already there. You stand there for a second dumbly, trying to think of a better way to pack them in among your other groceries so they won’t bump around, until the afternoon sun has sunk into the top of your head so it feels like your brain is melting to the inside of your skull. Feeling a little foolish, but otherwise at a loss, you buckle the grocery bag and the box into the seat.

That makes you grin to yourself and snort a giggle as you slam the passenger door and circle around to the other side of the truck. The engine turns and complains for a second before giving in.

Sometimes this is all you need to put yourself back in your body. This little ritual of grocery shopping by yourself -- driving with the music turned up, reading ingredient labels, watching the deli counter guy slice half a pound of provolone. That mundanity, that routine of an adult woman who buys her own groceries, puts everything else in perspective.

You’re here because you want to be. Because you chose to be.

You come to a decision.

Wakatoshi doesn’t pick up the phone when you call on your way out of town, but that’s to be expected. This time of day, he’s most likely out with the horses, and cell reception gives out only a quarter-mile into the pastures. The call goes to voicemail, and you smile to yourself as his recorded voice instructs you to please leave a message. The tone beeps.

“Hey, I’m headed home now. I’ll be there in, uh, about fifteen? Anyway, meet me down at the pond for dinner. Maybe… six-thirty? I thought we’d do something a little special. Okay, I love you!”

The pond is at the East edge of the property, fed by a brook that bubbles out of the foothills. On the side opposite of where the horse pastures end, there is a willow tree that stretches and drapes down to trace the surface of the water. It is under that willow tree that you unpack your picnic basket, pouring white wine into thermos mugs as the low sun streaks through branches.

The heat of the day is finally breaking, giving way to a cacophony of peeper frogs that you can normally only hear distantly in the house. Here, it fills your mind and allows you to think of nothing else but watching the distant silhouette of your husband crossing the pasture towards you. He’s backlit, long shadow reaching across the fence long before he does. You watch him walk in an easy, rolling gait through long grass, watch him hop the fence like he was born for it.

And he was, you remind yourself. He was born for these wide spaces and nature smells. Where you must find space for yourself in the uninhabited corners of the farm (the office, the Eastern edge, the kitchen), he fills the rest as naturally as water fills the pond.

He says your name at the edge of the willow tree, ducking under a bough.

“Hello, love,” you say and smile and pat the blanket next to where you’re sitting.

Your husband sits, folding his legs under him like a little kid. It makes your heart feel a little tender as you tuck yourself into his side and explain your meal: sandwiches and fruit, cherry pie and wine for dessert. He thanks you simply, bending down to kiss you in that slow way that caught you like honey in a trap that first night in front of your apartment building, all those years ago. He tastes like vanilla chapstick.

You eat. Wakatoshi tells you about his day. About the farrier's visit and fixing a leak in the chicken coop’s roof.

“Wakatoshi,” you say, leaning forward to pick at the grass as he works the stone out of a peach with his pocket knife. He hums, deft in his work but listening. “What would you say about having a baby?”

He makes a sharp noise of pain and you look over, wide-eyed, to see he’s sliced clean through the peach and into his own palm. The blood wells before your eyes, mixing with peach juice as you gasp and lunge for the paper napkins in the basket.

“You have to be more careful! What if you seriously--” “Yes,” he cuts you off as you’re taking his hand in both of yours, setting the fruit and knife aside, and wadding up the napkins to stop the bleeding.

“What?”

“I’d say yes to having a baby.” He’s looking right at you with those hazel eyes, the expression in them so close to reverence it stuns you.

“Oh,” you breathe, staring straight back.

At that exact moment, the setting sun glows orange at the top of the pasture hill, streaking Wakatoshi’s cheek with gold through the willow branches. All the breath is gone from you, your head gone light from having this question you’ve mulled over for weeks answered so simply.

His uninjured hand finds your cheek, tucks stray hair away from your face.

“Are you asking? Do you want to have a baby?”

“I-- Yes. I’m asking.”

He smiles, soft as the cattails that sway at the opposite edge of the pond, and leans in to meet your lips with his. You let yourself sink into it for a moment, unable to stop smiling against his mouth, but pull away to further inspect the slice across his palm. He lets you, his fingers curled gently inward while you dab away blood and rub a gentle thumb on his wrist, but his gaze never wavers from your face. It’s intense-- almost like how it was when you first knew him, but with an undercurrent of affection that makes your chest warm.

“It doesn’t look too deep,” you conclude, folding up some clean napkins and pressing them to the wound. “But we should clean it--”

“It can wait.”

“But it could still get infected, what if--”

“It can wait,” he interrupts again, insisting with gentle obstinance. The next words are low in his chest. “I can’t.”

You don’t get back to the house until late, August constellations suspended thickly overhead. It’s like you’re kids again and the barn cat is your mother, watching disapprovingly from her perch on the porch railing as you sneak in after curfew, wine-tipsy and elated. Your husband crowds in the door after you, handsy even after you’ve done nothing but touch each other all evening. You pull him into the kitchen and make him wash his wound thoroughly, your thumbs rubbing into the meat of his palm.

“I hope our daughter has your eyes,” he says. He’s close, his own eyes finding yours in the almost-dark.

“A daughter, huh?”

“A daughter. She’ll be just like you.”

“And what am I like?” you ask, coy, looking up at him through your lashes in the starlight streaming in the window.

Wakatoshi leans forward gently, resting his brow on yours. “You are,” he swallows thickly, eyes fluttering closed, “you are the world.”

Your day ends nothing like it began. Your day ends with utter surety of your place in this house, in this town, in Wakatoshi’s arms. The day ends and you feel completely yourself again, cradled in the gently rolling hills of the life you’ve chosen.

#ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #fluff #reader insert #haikyuu!! reader insert #valkyrie writes #tw babymaking #tw fluff

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zenphiaaa · 7 months

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Vulnerable (Ushijma Wakatoshi)

Friends to Lovers Arc Gen!Reader

You found yourself staring blankly at the man standing in front of you. You watched as his face slowly started to turn red before he ducked his head down. You suppose that was your cue to respond but, you just didn't know how to. You never once suspected that one of your close friends had feelings for you, much less expected them to confess to your face.

You never once thought of him that way and you were sure he felt the same. But as you stared at the male in front of you, who was acting bashful, you knew you didn't want to hurt him. But did you even feel the same way? You couldn't tell in the moment.

"You don't feel the same." Ushijma stated as a few more seconds had past and you continued to stare at him like some sort of alien. "You don't have to. Our friendship means the world to me, I just wnated to let you know that someone loves you like that. I wanted to tell you, but I'm not expecting anything from you." Ushijma spoke in a soft tone. "Nothing has to chnage. I didn't confess for things to be awkward."

You bit your lip as thoughts flooded your head. You knew what Ushijma was saying was ture. He wouldn't put you in a situtation where you would be uncomforable. You wondered how long he has felt this way.

"it's not awkard I just," You finally found your voice as you struggled to speak your thoughts. "Feelings change so fast, are you sure?" As soon as those words left your mouth you wanted to slap yourself. "I didn't mean to question your feelings! I just um..." You wanted to die in a hole.

"It's okay." Ushjima says, taking your hand into his as he gently rubs your knuckles as a source of comfort. "I understand why your anxious. Let's just forget about it, I didn't mean to send you panicking."

You quickly shake your head and grasp his hand into yours futher. "I'm not sure how I feel about romance itself so I never gave it a second thought. I'm not evens ure if its something I want." You quietly shared.

A few beats of silence past before Ushijima spoke up, "Then how do you feel right now? Knowing I have these feeling for you?" The male questioned, eyes on how your hands were still clutching each other tightly.

"I..I'm not sure, but I don't feel uncomforable. Just nervous."

Ushijma hummed, "Do you remember that manga you showed me a few days ago? Where the characters come up with that plan?" The male's face srunched in thought as he tried to better verbalize his words.

"You mean, fake dating?" You asked confused.

Ushijma shook his head, "Not quite, if your really not sure about this, why don't we have a trial run of sorts? I am confient in my feelings for you. And if you would let me, I would be honored to treat you how you should. Even if it doesn't end up with us together. At the end of the day, I only wish you happiness."

Your heart thumped in your chest as you carefully took in his words. You knew Ushijima would never hurt or force you to do something you didn't. He was giving you an out as well as a chance to explore your feelings. Was it really okay though? It felt like your were playing with his feelings if you both went down this path and turned up empty handed.

You just didn't want to hurt him. He didn't deseve it.

"Let's go on a date after classes. I don't have to be a practice until much later. We could have lunch, just a trial date." Ushijma explained, now lacing your hands together.

Your face heated up as you noticed yourself playing with his hand. With a deep breathe you slowly nodded your head watching as Ushijma's eyes lit up in happiness. "Sure." You replied, you hoped that your feelings would soon come clear to you.

Your heart just had to catch up.

#haikyuu x y/n #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu ushijima #hq ushijima #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #gender netural #ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n

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seokiloquy · 1 year

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Wine and Movie Pt 1 - Ushijima Wakatoshi

Au: Regular (timeskip)

Tags/Warnings: GN! Reader, swearing? I can’t remember

Word Count: 2.9k

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3

Yawning, you slugged into the gym a few minutes later than planned, and dropped yourself onto the bench next to the coach. Suzaku brushed his goatee, taking his eyes off the gym floor to give you a curious look from the corner of his eye.

“Bad date?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“I’m sorry, Kid. That sucks. You were looking forward to it.”

“Yep.”

He waited, lips pinched together until he couldn’t wait any longer. “What happened?”

“Ugh!” You sunk into the bench, back hunching until you fully curled over your lap. “He was just. So much? Too little? Everything and nothing at all?”

“How… descriptive.”

You groaned again, lifting your head to see the team walk in together with their training gear on and made their way to one of the trainers who was waiting in the centre of the gym to lead their warm-ups. You lowered your voice as they made a large circle, and some of the towering players settled into their spots a couple of steps in front of you.

“Okay, first, we agreed to see a movie. And I thought, ‘sounds good. I love movies; it’ll give us something to discuss afterwards.’ I got to choose the film and, of course, I went with that murder movie, right? He slept through it! And when I asked what he thought, he said ‘it’s no DC cinematic classic.’ So I already wanted to leave, but at that point, we had already gotten to dinner.” You breathed, trying to whisper as you noticed the players glancing over their shoulders to get an ear on what you were saying. “He spent the whole time whining about his ex, who for the record, sounded lovely, and how she didn’t take care of him enough. Honestly, that woman was a saint for putting up with him for more than five hours. He didn’t even listen to a word I said. Gosh, why do I even bother dating men? Do you have a daughter, Coach Suzaku?”

“I do, but she’s got some anger issues and spends most of her time whining. She’s also four, so, ya know.”

You huffed a laugh, earning a pat on the back from the man. “I should just get off dating apps. It‘s done nothing but cause me headaches.”

“I think you need to meet someone the old-fashioned way. You know, I met my wife in college. There was a campus party, and I threw up in the toilet while she was crying in the bathtub.”

You gave him a horrified look. “And she went for that?”

“After laughing at me, ya.”

You chuckled, imagining Suzaku with his arms wrapped around a toilet bowl and acidic chucks falling from his nose, being laughed at by a woman with messy hair and tear-stained cheeks that was curled up in the nearby tub. “She sounds wonderful.”

“Oh, she is. But my point still stands. You need to connect with someone naturally instead of searching for it.”

“I’ll give it a shot.”

“Just don’t drink too much.”

“Haha, I’ll stick with wine.”

You both turned back to the team.

“Hey, Toshi, face the team. There’s nothing important going on over here.”

Ushijima, who had twisted his spine around while stretching, had his sharp eyes zeroed in on you and the coach and missed the call for him to turn onto the next stretch. His eyes darted back to the team, and he eagerly switched his position to keep up with the rest.

You chuckled. “That’s unusual.”

“It is. But not surprising. He’ll get lost in thought if he gets distracted.”

“Him? Distracted from volleyball?” Ushijima was one of the youngest on the team, having been recruited right before graduating high school, but managed to outrun everyone in terms of focus. Everyone on the team was a volleyball geek. The V league seemed only to recruit those who would dedicate their lives to the sport. But even with the stiff competition, Ushijima had struck you as someone who relied on the sport like a lifeline, not the other way around. He relied on volleyball. Volleyball didn’t rely on him. Any deviation was a distraction from his life path.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it? Can’t be a bad thing, though. He’ll wear himself thin if he spends all his free time practising. Which reminds me, I’m going to have to confiscate the gym key from the youngsters.”

You saw that we pinched his eyes toward Kageyama and Hoshiyumi, who were next to Ushijima’s right.

“Like that will stop them from booking time at a local gym.”

Suzaku kissed his teeth. “You’re right…. It’s better to have them here. Here, where you can watch them.” he slapped your shoulder.

“Seriously? Look. I may like my job, but hanging out in a sweat-filled gym is not my idea of a good time.”

“Better than going on another bad date, though. Right?”

“I guess.”

“Good.” He grinned, looking back at the team. “Toshi! Pay attention.”

Sighing, you watched the three as they spent their time off doing exactly what they’d do if it were their time on. Hoshiumi would throw the ball into the air, Kageyama would toss it, and then Hoshiumi would spike it past Ushijima if he managed, and then they rotated.

“You know, we all have to go to dinner in an hour, right? You should all shower and get dressed.”

Kageyama and Hoshiyumi were vocal in their desire to keep playing, glaring your way as they harrumphed. Ushijima, both as you expected and, to your shock, turned to you with his usual stoic expression and nodded before walking to the showers.

“Did he just?” You looked toward the other two, who mirrored your expression. “Nevermind. Just follow him, you stink, and it's an industry dinner.”

Being the one with the driver's licence and a car, it was you that got to drive the damp-haired men to the venue. Making it just in time, you ushered the three to your teams tables and got them in their seats before the MC of the night began talking. It was a rush, and after getting Kageyama and Hoshiumi onto one table and Ushijima to the other, there wasn’t enough time to run to the back of the room where the rest of the staff was.

“Welcome, everyone!” the MC started, as you placed a crumpled handkerchief onto Ushijima’s lap. “We are in for a long night, filled with interviews, conversations and food. Staff will be coming around with your orders of food and drink, we ask that you please stay seated until the end of recording and eating. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Ah shit,” you cursed. The cameras were rolling, and you’d have to run across them or crawl and risk disrupting the event either way. You ducked as the hanging camera swung overhead.

“Sit here,” Ushijima said in his usual low tone, while pulling out the chair next to him.

“I can’t do that! I’m not a player, people will notice!”

“Not enough people will care.”

“If you saw a stranger sitting with your team, wouldn’t you be a little curious or concerned?”

He didn't answer, looking off for a moment before meeting your eyes. “Sit.”

“Ushijima, you’re as stubborn as a boulder.” You slowly rose to your feet, still hunching as to not get higher than everyone’s heads. “I shouldn’t sit here.”

Taking your hand, gently, by the tips of your fingers, he pulled you down onto the plush chair just as you landed the camera swung back over your head. “Sit.”

“You’re like a toddler.”

“Not a boulder?”

“You can be both.”

“I like the boulder.”

“Fine. A boulder.”

As much as you enjoyed the world of volleyball, you found yourself zoned out as the MC called various coaches and players to the stand. Sadly, you couldn’t converse too much or move anywhere; you were glued to your chair until the first commercial break came. But, just as you were about to sneak away—

“Excuse me, I don’t have your order. Are you in the wrong seat?” A waitress had arrived, dawning a completely black outfit that made her blend into the background.

“I am, I was just about to move to my seat.”

“No, no. I’ll bring your food here, we want everyone to stay where they are until the end. What was your name? I need it so I can find your order.”

You hunched back into the chair, mumbling your name out while fiddling with the table cloth.

“And what would you like to drink?”

“...Red wine?”

“Excellent, I’ll be right back.”

“Great.”

There were a few moments of chatter before Ushijima turned his chair towards you.

“What school did you go to?” He asked.

“Which one? High school or university?”

He paused again, thinking. “Both.”

“Wakutani, then 2 years of Miyagi U.”

“What did you study?”

“Sports science, but I did it really quickly.”

“Hmm.”

Nodding, you waited for a moment before putting out your own question.

“Why are you talking to me? You don’t seem like the type to… idly chat.”

He shrugged with one shoulder. “You seem interesting.”

“Oh.” You blinked at him, fighting down a blush, “I can’t say I’ve been told that before.”

He nodded, “You are interesting. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Thank you,” you choked, trying to find something other than being flustered to focus on.

“You went to Shiratorizawa right? Did you do anything besides volleyball?”

“No… Not unless my teammates took me somewhere. Tendou liked to get dessert.”

You had no idea who Tendou was, but you nodded along hoping something else would come to mind before you got to stuff your faces with food.

“Do you like desserts?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“I like hayashi rice,” he offered. “It’s not a dessert though. I have to keep myself healthy.”

“It’s okay to treat yourself now and then, but if you prefer healthy foods anyways, then it’s no big deal.”

“Do you like deserts?”

“Umm, sometimes? I like salty things more I think. I always get popcorn when I go to the movies, chips are too loud.”

“Hmm. You like mysteries right?”

The waitress came back, placing your place of food on the table cloth. You smiled at her quickly before turning back to Ushijima.

“I do. Were you listening to me and Coach talk?”

He paused again, “Maybe.”

You laughed, trying to keep your voice down as the MC returned to the stage. “You’re a little stalker.”

“I’m not little.” He huffed.

“I know, that makes it even funnier.” You took a sip of wine. “Do you have a favourite genre of movie?”

“Hmm. Philosophical?”

“Really? I thought you would’ve said sports.”

“I like those too.”

“Figures. Are there any volleyball ones you like?”

“No. They’re all bad. They don't portray volleyball correctly.”

“Ah, so you watch sports you don’t know anything about because you can’t criticize the specifics but can relate to the characters as athletes.”

Ushijima took a breath before nodding. “Ya. Is there a reason why you like mysteries?”

“I like that they make me think. Make me try to solve a puzzle with the same clues the characters have. Really good ones give you the clues without making them too obvious. There’s a balance.”

“Hmm, would you want to see a movie together sometime? Your pick. Maybe have some wine with it?”

“Trying to ask me out already after having one conversation that doesn’t pertain to your physical health.”

“Um.. Sure?” he didn’t seem sure.

You chuckled, shaking your head and hand, dismissing it, before looking at him with a calm smile. “So, wine and a movie?”

Again he paused, then nodded. “Wine and a movie.”

“He’s like… 25? And asked me out for wine and a movie like he's a 40 year old woman.”

Sara, who sat, draped, across your couch gave you a side eyed look. “You love those things.”

“Yes, I do. But it doesn’t mean I can’t be surprised… and a little bit confused.”

“Well, maybe he likes you.”

“He likes volleyball.”

“And paid enough attention to something outside of volleyball to be able to remember something.”

You stopped your pacing, blinking. “Oh shit, you might be right.”

“Oh look at that, I’m right. Once again!”

“I said might be.” You glared over the armrest.

Sara shrugged. “Same difference. So when is this happening.”

“After practice on Monday… He usually stays behind to do extra drills.”

“Oho, you really got him out of his comfort zone.”

You groaned, dropping onto the couch by Sara’s feet, which she immediately placed in your lap. “Why did I agree to this? How did I end up agreeing to this?”

“Hey, it’s not a bad thing. He took note of some of your interests, there’s nothing wrong with appreciating the gesture.”

“The bare minimum really.”

“It’s more than most men can say they do.”

Sighing, you stared at your ceiling, hoping to find a clear thought among the white void. Nothing came and you were left with hearing your heart thumping in your ears.

Ushijima’s home, despite being in a luxury apartment not too far from the training grounds, was like walking into a traditional temple. Somehow, he managed to collect and cater his home to a certain design choice through decorations alone.

You stared at some of the photos in his living room wall. There was a lack of family pictures, maybe one or two, but the majority was made up of candid shots of his mid-air, left arm pulled back as he prepped for a spike, or blurry photos that he definitely didn’t take himself.

“That’s Tendou,” Ushijima said, using the rim of a wine glass to point at the red mass in the corner of one of the photos. “He moves too quickly. Every picture he takes is bad.”

You laughed. “Bad or not, you still hang them up.”

“He did it without my permission.”

Raising a brow, you tilted your head his way. “And yet, you haven’t taken them down.”

Ushijima looked away, heading toward the mats and table that were low to the ground. Any other person would have thought he ignored you, but even a short conversation was enough to let you know that he hadn’t.

“They’re bad photos, but I like them.” He poured the red wine into two glasses, and poured out the chips he had hidden beneath one arm into a bowl. “Hmm, You don’t have to worry about the chips making noise, subtitles are on.”

You smiled. “How considerate. Or are you worried that you won't be able to hear the movie?”

Ushijima just hummed, and sat down on one of the pillows, leaving an invisible invitation on the matching one for you to sit on.

It was your choice of movie, but you had decided on something that hopefully combined both of your interests.

Soul from Pixar.

Combine both of your interests… as little as possible.

Though, to be fair, the movie did have a philosophical side to it, and was about passion, just in music instead of sports. It didn’t have any mystery, which was fine… There’s no reason you had to have your favourite genre included, you had chips and wine.

Not that Ushijima went for the chips at all. More for you. A trade off.

It was odd though. Despite Sara’s claims, it didn’t feel like a date. You both sat on opposite ends of a square table, too far away to think about cuddling up even if there wasn’t a table in your way, sitting silently (as much as the chips would allow) as the movie passed. However, at the odd times you’d glance at Ushijima, you’d see a man, fully wrapped up in the story unfolding in front of him with the lights reflecting in his eyes. Focused, thinking, and certainly not asleep or whining about his ex.

The bag of chips and bowl were completely empty by the time the film ended. Had it not been a monday, the wine would have been too.

As the credits rolled you took your last sip of wine for the night, dipping your head back as the last drop rolled onto your tongue.

“I liked it,” Ushijima said. “I wish I could have seen where 22 went though.”

“Hmm,” you thought aloud, “I think that may be part of the point though. What would have seeing where 22 went served? They found a passion for life, that was the end of their story. At least, the end for this part of it.”

“Ya… It just felt incomplete in a way.”

“Why do you say that?”

Ushijima turned on his pillow, sitting with a straight spine as he faced your slouched posture. You gulped and straighten up.

“There’s so much time that’ll follow that point of the story.”

“Hmm, ya. Well, what do you want to see 22 do?”

“Music? Food maybe.”

You grinned, “I like that idea too. I think food works really well. Maybe a social worker in some way. 22 fell in love with being a person, I feel like it makes sense if they want to help people in some way.”

Ushijima nodded. “Do you want to watch another movie?”

You blinked, glancing at the clock on the wall before thinking it over with a smile, calm as can be. “You know what, sure. You choose this one.”

I don’t know if I should write a second part to this or not… - Bacon

Posted: 26/02/2023

#Ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #Haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #x reader #oneshot #oneshots #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu reader insert #reader insert #aus #haikyuu aus #fluff #haikyu #haikyu x reader #anime x reader #anime

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bokubear · 2 years

Text

Haikyuu!! — he thinks you’re cheating

❥ including ; kageyama tobio, atsumu miya, ushijima wakatoshi, kuroo tetsuro

❥ genre ; hardly angst, slight insecurity, comedy, fluff, suggestive themes

❥ notes ; my first post in a whole month! gosh it’s been a while, but i’m glad to be back(*'▽'*)

Kageyama would never assume such a thing, instead, he’d try his hardest to talk it out—scared helplessly throughout. It was after his practice that day, and as he was approaching you for your daily walk home together when he overheard you talking with that guy. So, kageyama being kageyama, strutted to the perpetrator and grabbed his shoulder with an iron grip. “Y/n, what’s going on?” You could tell he was trying his hardest to deepen his voice, causing you to suppress your giggle. “Tobio, are you worried about me being with him?” Oh Kageyama Tobio was so easy to read. From his nervous glances at the two of you talking in the hallway to even now where you saw him from afar, that doubtful gaze told all that was on his mind. “We we’re planning a party for the team.. but I guess you didn’t realize..” The boy he was suspicious of spoke up, pointing to the décor surrounding the two that he’d yet to notice. “Since you guys went to nationals y’know.” You smiled sheepishly, pointing to the door. “And Takeshita is the only one with a spare key to decorate indoors.” Without saying anything else you were wrapped in your boyfriend’s embrace, his face snuggling into your neck. “Thanks for not leaving me.” He muttered, hoping the boy he now knew was named Takeshita didn’t overhear. However their laughter told him otherwise. He was red as a tomato.

Atsumu immediately throws a fit, flaying himself dramatically onto any surface to belch about how “‘ya never loved ‘im!” Very annoying. And the guy working at the ice cream stand seemed to agree. “Hey! I heard you two getting all cozy up in here earlier.. she’s MY baby.” He’d repeatedly remind to which you frantically rush to apologize for the Miya’s unnecessary behavior. “Tsumie! Quit!!” You slap his arm, eyes staring daggers at the irritating blonde. “Mmm fineee.. but watch out. I’m everywhere.” He hissed, trying to act intimidating ( or whatever that was supposed to be ). Apparently he had it out for this ice cream shop worker, pulling you to the side with knitted brows and a jutting pouty expression. “You’re my baby right? Don’t tell me you’re into-“ His whining cut short at your soft lips pressing to his, eyes widening into saucers. “Always your baby.” You smile, brushing a loose strand of dyed hair from his face. “Mine.” He whispered, lifting you up by the thighs to spin you around. “This looks cheesy.” You complain, unable to keep yourself from getting lost in his honey orbs. “I don’t care cause you look like an angel right now.” Wow. It was hard to even think you were slightly mad at him earlier. Charmer.

Ushijima would confront you. Of course since ushijima is indeed ushijima, his mature and knowledgeable nature leads him to invite you to a dinner. Initially you’re surprised, it isn’t you’re birthday, and it’s not any important date? Weird. And he doesn’t hesitate to get right to the point, asking if you’re interested in “another” he said. It was extremely puzzling of how the ushijima wakatoshi was fiddling with his fingers—appearing nervous. That was a first. “Another? Toshi I-“I’m sincerely sorry if I didn’t give you everything you want, you see I’m not very good at this dating relationship and I’m learning so I understand if you went to someone else-“Why would I ever want to break up with you?” The continuous fiddling of his fingers continued, clearing his throat. “Are you okay?” You leant forward, doting features sending ushijima’s mind into a frenzy. “Ah yes, you just-look stunning in that dress.” This statement floored you. God he was perfect. “Toshi, that’s my brother you were referring to. The ‘another.’” You swore his jaw dropped to the table. “Oh then.. I believe this was a misunderstanding, shall I take you home?” A sly smile crept at your lips, taking his comment and twisting it mischievously. “Take me home? To do what?” You chided, watching as his face contorted ever so slightly. “To.. help you out of your dress, it’d be hard to unzip it.” And once again a gentleman despite your coaxing. “Perhaps we could do something else after I help you from your dress?” Now it was your jaw’s turn to drop.

Kuroo mopes. He utterly mopes. Sitting on the couch with one of Kenma’s cats sleeping peacefully atop his head while watching literally every season of Naruto in existence. At some point even Kenma himself steps from his room to ask if he’s still alive. It’s a miracle really that he’s still eating that bag of Lays, munching nonstop. And as expected Kenma receives a call from you in the midst of the ordeal, asking where your potato-chip-eating boyfriend is. Kenma doesn’t lie to you, explaining that the raven-haired is in a state of denial because you paired with someone other boy in your Biology for the project “when you could’ve been learning the periodic table song with him” he quotes, earning a burst of laughter from you. Boy Kenma was a great impressionist. Nonetheless you show up uninvited, standing in front of the tv screen with crossed arms. “You! You’re in love with him aren’t you! The greasy hair, ugly face and everything! Look at you little missy thinking you can get away with-“ On his entourage of accusations and complaining he stands so close to you it’s not hard to smell the stench of 2 days worth of couch-potato days sticking to his clothes. “Ugh! You stink! How long have you been on the couch?” You plug your nose, unbeknownst to the amused Kenma recording at the doorway. “Uhh.. Two.. days? Wah! Wait!” Kuroo calls as you disappear into the bathroom. “No! I’m not coming out ‘till you shower!!” — “Fine but then can I sing you the periodic table song?” — “..Maybe.”

-maak

Plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited

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chrissshub · 2 years

Text

LOFT MUSIC

FT. USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ PAIRINGS: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Stripper!Fem reader

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORD COUNT: 3.2k

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ CW: pwp, Ushijima’s inexperienced, Reader’s experienced, grinding, public(ish) sex, use of protection, use of petnames

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ WORDS FROM CHRIS: So this comes from Loft Music by The Weeknd. I feel like it fits Ushijima honestly bc of his personality and not really knowing how to let loose. So if you listen to the song while reading, you’ll understand it exactly what I mean :)

Ushijima wasn’t used to this. The blaring beats of loud music simmering through his very bones, the melding scents of marijuana, spilled alcohol, and cigarette smoke unashamedly striking his pure nose, down the flashing strobes only granting him a clear sight every few minutes. Routine was a concept he’d fallen in love with since his youth—and a loft party was far from his norm.

In those hazy moments of trafficking, all he knew was himself. All he knew was the very clothes on his back—a plain white tee hugging every curve of his chest with jeans he’d only wear when it called for. All Ushijima knew was the difference between him and everyone around him, all drunk off the cups in their hands and the joy circulating through their veins.

If there was one wish Ushijima had for the night, it was to embrace all he could without the self-shrouding fears.

Self-deprivation was one hell of an addiction, believing one deserves less than average treatment. It was this one hell of an addiction that had Ushijima by the very grips, resulting from based on his own selfish thoughts of self-entitlement.

Apart from him was the firm belief that he was better than what the world could offer, overlooking such places of recreation as a whole. But there was always that voice in his head chiding for that way of thinking, pushing Ushijima off the self-entitled high horse.

So as he wandered doe-eyed and curious through the cramped floor, there was one reiterated fact he couldn’t ignore.

He was better than most but not better than all.

That much was clear in his mannerisms; how he walked amongst the crowd, awkwardly mumbling poor excuses for apologizing, all lacking in his usual confidence. Nothing felt real to Ushijima at that moment, the raw essence of sonderous thoughts forming his astute state. So many different people surrounded him, so many different lives intertwining, and yet…Ushijima hadn’t breathed it all in for face value.

And it was through his sonderous state of mind that led him to you, mindlessly being pulled to the party’s main attraction. One of the many dancers hired for the night, you were the one that caught his eye—the only other spirit freed from the hindering influences. He was tantalized off how you moved, a slow rock to your hips yet concern pearling your eyes. It was that moment he wanted to free you, pull you into world of his so-called “fever dream”.

The glossy hues of a peridot green clung to every inch of you, shamelessly hinged on the tiny top holding at your bust. Such soft, supple mounds were barely protected by the thin string of the yellow bedazzled bikini top. He trailed his sights even lower, instantly gawking the loosely tied knots residing on either side of your waist.

From there, nothing held Ushijima back fully indulging in your presence, admiring the delicate hold you maintained over the metal pole. Intrigue couldn’t have been the only word to describe Ushijima’s exact feeling. Enthralled was better suited, especially with the dopey gravitation he’d found himself underneath.

His feet shuffled on their own, the fresh soles of new sneakers nearly toe-to-toe with the makeshift stage of a tabletop. It was at the very view of you that Ushijima experienced a foreign sensation breaking out across his body, a rush of heat supplied with a sweeping frigid wave. His heart raced beyond its limits and suddenly that’s all he can hear, the tempered pangs flooding his ears.

There was one other fact Ushijima discovered tonight, one only a sin-deprived man could realize: he needed to have you, one way or another.

It wasn’t even a sensation Ushijima could explain. The sudden urge to have the heaving hull of his chest smothered by your own, to have you sitting pretty atop his thighs with a teasing grin on full display.

He’s heard about it all in the movies and from friends, a lap dance being something to indulge in. Those large hands grip hard at his pockets, slender digits catching onto the thick fold of his wallet.

Though, if not for the grace of your awareness, Ushijima would’ve been there for hours clawing at his wallet for a single bill. Within two steps, you came face to face with your sudden admirer, leaning in close for a sense of privacy.

Broken gasps were solely what he could form in your presence, aside from the flickering stare he offered. The only thing able to break Ushijima’s trance was the sound of your voice, the words rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Do you want a dance or somethin’ ?”

A shameless nod fell from his head, paired with a shied hum for your ears only.

“Yes…please.”

A delighted smile came to your features at his brash confirmation. There was something simply adorable in the man before you, the dangerous blend of innocence and curiosity. Nothing more and nothing less. It was easy from that point on, slipping down from the table and into the dark abyss of the ground.

Standing at his side, everything about him changed in an instant. Suddenly, his build towered above your own, broad shoulders, burly arms, and a face for the charming. He’s taller, larger yet kinder than many, accompanied by a comforting aura.

You knew better than to dig, ask what a guy like him was doing in a place like this, asking for something he knew nothing of. Nonetheless, not a fiber in your being could deny him. You were already reaching out to take his hand before second thoughts could arise, leading him through the crowd once more.

“So, can I get a name or something you call you by?” you began, sending a sly glare to the straggling stranger.

“Ushijima, call me Ushijima.”

“Well, Ushijima, I’m Y/N and something tells me…you’re not used to this, are you?”

“W-What makes you think that?” he muttered, the hues of glossy peridot now marked with a worrisome glimmer.

All you can do is give him an assuring squeeze of your hand, thinking of the exact words to soothe the impulsive jolt of concern.

“You just got the look…and feel. But I dunno, makes my job that much more exciting fr’ me

You and Ushijima end off on a subtle smile, the curled ends of your lips speaking more than what could have ever been said. For what seemed to be an eternity to the backrooms of the loft, your hands never once slipped from each other, only breaking when the time called.

Upon the pulling of the velvet curtain, Ushijima’s eyes widened at the mere scene playing out before him. A small room stood before him, blackened walls with a rich soft carpet beneath his feet to match. Dimmed lights lined the ceiling, casting off the bed fit for two people.

At your every whim Ushijima had fell to, relinquishing all control to you. He was far from his element, that much becoming clear. He wanted to hide it all, the growing heat of reality breaking across his body. The highs of his cheeks prickled, his chest grew heavy with every breath, and embarrassingly enough, his hand seemed to melt with pebbling droplets of sweat.

But the second his back caved along into the bed’s headboard with you sinking atop of him, the sense of self Ushijima walked in was now replaced with one free of all worries.

It’s just as he imagined it, the perky mounds of your tits now smothered by the heaving hull of his chest. The supple curves of your ass sat all the more righteously on his lap. The tips of your nails traced along his limp arms, heat rising to meet your short-lived touch. Inches of space existed between you both, riddled with both hints of the natural and unnatural.

Ushijima didn’t know what it was he’d gotten himself into but, all he knew was one thing—he wanted more than just your company.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you hum, slotting your thighs beside his own “I’ve got you, Ushijima.”

With that, you brought your arms to encircle Ushijima’s neck in a gentle fold, keeping him close. Your hips picked up with a brushing grind along his groin, using the dense fold of the jean’s zipper as the best source for friction. Every so often you brought more and more weight to sit atop Ushijima, digging in just enough to feel the confined bulge rise beneath you.

His face was shot with red, the flustering hues of crimson illuminating his skin. Even underneath the white tee you felt him, the same heat compelling you to keep near. Your intentions were to move on with something different, but something about holding Ushijima like this entertained you even more. Though it was unspoken, it was clear he preferred you stay like that too.

He was subtle to a point, trapping the strenuous groans within his chest. His hips would jerk to meet the passes of your hips, the nudgings sinking through to your cunt past the thin covering of your g-string.

But you couldn’t have expected it, the large palms of his hands cupping your waist. There was no presence or desire of control in his grip, only the pure imbues of novelty.

Entirely, he wasn’t supposed to touch you—but god, did it feel nice? It was nothing you’ve experienced before, soft, kind, and free of higher influences. You could’ve melted into his hold, trusting that you’d let fate guide the night elsewhere.

His hands cupped at your tits, using gentle squeezes to pluck shushed whimpers from your lips. The pads of his thumbs drifted across the buds of your nipples and should he have the chance, you could’ve anticipated that Ushijima was just seconds from prying that top off.

You decided to muse him, tease him just enough to pull all he had to give to his cock. Your lips came to brush past his, settling only a peck before pulling away.

“This isn’t your scene, Ushijima. I can you’re different, too clean and too immature this type of lifestyle. You look like you have morals, something to live for. Better leave before you make a mis–”

“But I can handle it, I swear I can! I wanna—”

“I’ve heard it all. The only thing I can give you is a rush of lust. Don’t expect anything real from me.”

“What if that’s exactly what I’m looking for?”

Ushijima tugged at the knots lining your stilled hips, spilling the selfless whimpers to urge his plea. He knew there stood truth in your words, as much as he didn’t belong there, he knew nothing of what he was asking for. What would happen after? Would he leave and end it as if nothing happened? Would he still feel the way felt now—hungry and desperate for all of you?

All the questions he had sat with you, the answers waiting to be discovered. All he could do was offer you one final word of suggestion.

“Please?”

A giggle spilled from the depths of your chest, your hand breaking from its hold to cup Ushijima’s cheek. If that was what he wanted, you couldn’t help but oblige—leaving all else up to the stars in the sky for judgment.

“Then…you found the perfect girl for the task,” ending Ushijima’s words with the brash push of your lips. What began as polite grew to ruin, your tongue lacing around his own. The occasional clash of teeth was ignored, soapy spools of spit ran their course down your chin, and yet the addictive weight of his lips draws you in deeper.

There wasn’t a moment of delay in your touch, returning the kiss to Ushijima. Your fingers slid down between the soothing crash of your bodies, fidgeting with the clasp of Ushijima’s jeans.

His hips raised in assistance, the unruly denim being dragged down the thick of his thighs with his briefs in tow. A hiss cuts from behind his teeth, the nipping cold settling around the pink head of his cock.

Your digits unconsciously slid to his cock, the soft pads of your fingers ghosting along the pulsing veins. There’s a pretty sheen of pre-cum painting the tanned skin between your palms sweeping across the girthy expanse, sitting deliciously snug between your small hands. Every squeeze of your grip brings forth the pearly tears right from out the fluttering slit, drawing out silenced groans from Ushijima’s chest.

It’s a sight so pretty that your mouth can’t help but water, anticipation brewing at the pit of your tummy. Ushijima looks so innocent in your wake, glimmers of that same lustful curiosity fueling your own arousal. You couldn’t wait to see him crumble, eyes rolling back, and to lose all sense of composure within the smothering hold of your walls.

“You don’t have to hide it,” you croon, hands still honeying Ushijima’s cock with loose strokes. Your thumb settles over the thick head, swiping relevantly to smear away the onslaught of rousing tears.

The chills that run down his spine entice your eye, watching as Ushijima hid all his desires behind a crumbling straight face. You couldn’t help but ease his nerves, whispering a word of advice against his quivering lips.

“We can get it all out, just relax and enjoy yourself, ‘kay?”

Before you can look up to meet Ushijima’s eyes, he’s prying at the gold foil wrapper lost in his pants pocket, ripping the condom free. He placed the suctioning cling of the condom at the tip, rolling down the edges to sit at the base. Your fingers tug at the inseam of your g-string, the thin covering resting along your inner thigh.

The anticipation guides you through a drunken spree as you loom above his cock, your entrance splitting around the flushed crown. Each drop of your hips emits a trembling shake through your legs, your hand shooting to brace along his shoulders.

You knew better than to get ahead of yourself, leaving your pussy to sit halfway of his length. You haven’t even moved and the essence dripping from your walls already rains down to stain his cock sinfully.

“Shit, you’re so big!” you gasped, bringing your forehead to rest along the crook of his neck.

Ushijima hadn’t felt anything like it, the gummy yet suckling clench of your pussy. He can feel every twitch lining his cock, strumming against the veins in a dangerous beat. The shaky rise of your hips pulls at his being, the nerves brimming with a heat he’s never known.

He couldn’t even have begun to ignore how tight you were, fitting around him like a glove. His cock carves at your walls, making it that much easier for you to hold him in place.

It’s become even more of a vice to have you like this on top of him, tits bouncing, eyes screwed shut and the tips of your nails decorating his skin in careful crescents of crimson. The beauty of you working so hard for him and yourself pulled at his heart, wanting to help bring you to an orgasm he had the honor of providing.

“Fuck!—Let me— I wanna do something…” Ushijima whispers out into the heavy air. The flesh of your ass is met by the digits of Ushijima’s hands, fingertips itching deep. Yet, not a notion in his mind could guide him from this point on. He’s clueless, creating a scene out of a need for power—just to provide nothing to either of your impending highs.

Your lips crowd at his neck, pressing spiteful kisses along the thumping pulses. He’s hot but it’s far from. It’s the embarrassment that simmers at his skin, something you’ve come to notice all too quickly. Pity graces your tongue as you speak softly, the slick words ringing in his ear.

“Cute, I just know that you don’t know how to please, Baby. But go ahead, I’ll let you try.”

Through the mellow sense of encouragement, As carefully as he could, he set you down onto his lap, leaving his cock to sit snug at your womb. A shrill squeal rips from your lungs, jolting from Ushijima’s thighs for a sliver of refuge.

“I-I can’t take it all! Fuck–Just give me a sec!–”

“Shhh, you can take it, Pretty. I know you can, that’s why I’m helping you, wanna see you cum all over my cock..kay?”

What you didn’t—moreover, couldn’t—have anticipated was Ushijima’s resilience, how he’d worked himself to the bone to make his words into a reality. He relied on the sounds of your voice and as his focus, sending his cock drag across your sweet spots. Your walls ghosted over his cock, seizing him in place as the waves of ecstasy flooded about your body.

When a sharp mewl spills from your lips, he knows he’s too deep, just striking what he’s learned to be your cervix. Yet when he brings his hips to a tilt with just the slow reeling of his cock, he knows that he’s grazing past by the different song falling from your mouth. It’s free of whimpers and pleas, replaced with a pacing urgency to reach a high.

So as you approach that envied high, Ushijima felt it all the same. How your breaths shift from long and drawn to short and tearful, your lips prancing about a pout to fit. Your nails dig deeper than they have before, slipping beneath his tee for a peace of mind. At the immediate flutter of your walls, that searing clench holds him so tight that he’s the one seeing stars.

What seemed to be the height of your orgasm, Ushijima couldn’t resist it any longer. Running from the soles of his feet was the sudden burst of pressure so heavy that nothing coherent could be formed at Ushijima’s disposal. The thick ribbons of white flooded the surrounding confines, drenching what space did exist within the condom in his scents.

Through the gathering breaths of both your lungs, you peered up at Ushijima, a burning question waiting to be unfolded.

“What do you have to say for yourself? Feel anything?”

Ushijima leaned back onto the bed’s headboard, hazy eyes of olive scanning you from head to toe. He’s, without inner conflict, his heart still yearning to be relieved while he had the chance. He only wanted to ask one more thing of you, praying that regrets would pass him by.

“Can…can we go again?”

𐐪𐑂 ♡ ｡ﾟ ━━━ TAGS: @gabbylovesu @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @dejwrites @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @whore4mikey @pixelsanji @yooniluvbot444 @sleepy3 @itzgabs22 @slaughterakira @elnitta @woahhajime @tojidilfs @pulchritxde @tirzamisu @hannas16 @devilgirlcrybabiey @icelyn20 @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @mitsuyasfavorite @missyasma @auri127 @simpliheavenli @mymysenpai @ssabvln @desiray562 @urfilgoth @lostgxrlblog @sleepilysworld @lovemegood @luvrdrop @ahya @nuttyunknowndetective-blog @tojibreedingme @honeyhoneyhonie @itsteiiteii @widepipepaladiknight @nekoriots @rainycami @tonaken @holychocopie @whore4levi @bloobrryktty @hon3ybee-3 @simpforerenn @dabis0bitch @zorosbozo @maxx-15 @mysecretstash00 @svlims @your-next-daydream

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willowfolksong · 2 years

Note

Hi i just discovered your blog and your writing is so amazing and fluffy! I'm not sure if you're taking requests right now but if you do can i request a cute scenario where kageyama+hoshiumi and atsumu+hinata (not as couples btw they all have their own spouses) team up to dress their babies in their respective jerseys and organize a mini competion like see whose kid crawl faster or something like that lol. If that's too chaotic you can just do kageyama and hinata because i know they'd absolutely compete with their kids while their spouses are shaking their heads lovingly in the background 😂

MSBY Jackals against Adlers. Baby edition 🍼

- Atsumu Miya x Reader | Kageyama Tobio x Reader | Hoshiumi Kourai x Reader | Hinata Shoyo x Reader. Implied: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader | Kiyoomi Sakusa x Reader

Plot: The guys put their kids in a mini race against one anothers, in mini t-shirt versions of their teams.

- SFW

a/n: hiiiiii @leuyen2004 !!!! so sorry for the late response! I absolutely adored your request!!! One of the most wholesome ones I've ever gotten 🥺🥺🥺♥️ I hope you like it!!! and thank you much for your words, you're so sweet!!

Love,

Willow ☀️

(Requests are currently closed, but I'll let you know as soon as they open ☀️)

This is it. Finally, the most important and decisive match against the Addlers and the MSBY Jackals.

One that could change sport's history.

"Alright, let's do this!" Atsumu yells, and places his kid on the ground. The little toddler of only two years looks around, at the other babies that form a perfect — for now, at least— line, and then proceeds to stick his entire left fist on his mouth "No don't do that" Atsumu says, squatting down beside him "Don't eat your hand. It's match time!"

"That's because his teeth are coming out" Kageyama explains, looking smug. His own kid looks at him curiously, before leaning his little head full of dark hair against his leg, clearly in search of a quick nap "My son has all his teeth out already"

Hinata snorts and blows a raspberry at his former teammate, now on a rival team "What's your kid? A shark? That can't be!"

"Shut up you know nothing!" Kageyama yells.

"I literally have a little girl of my own! What are you talking about?" Hinata says, rolling his eyes and rocking his little girl back and forth "Right, princess?"

"Alright, let's do this!" Hoshiumi finally snaps, clapping his hands. His little girl on the ground looks ready to start crawling, and Hoshiumi actually has to stop her from starting to move "Or are you all really that scared of my girl?"

"Fine, fine" Atsumu nods "Come on!"

🍼 When Hoshiumi finally gives the signal, only his little girl moves. A small, little bolt of energy with a puff of white hair on top of her little head. She starts crawling forward with all her might, only to stop short, look back at his father, and automatically turn back around.

🍼 They all decide it's best to use something that can motivate the babies to crawl forward, and so go looking for their toys.

🍼 All the babies are, of course, dressed in miniature versions of their teams shirts.

🍼 Once the toys are in place, the parents get their kids in position again.

🍼 When Hoshiumi gives the signal this time, all the babies start moving forward, except Kageyama's boy, who's already sleeping against his father's leg.

🍼 "Hah! Your kid is so gonna lose!" Hinata screams, pointing at the sleeping toddler, and the clapping at his little girl "You go princess!"

🍼 "Shut up you stupid idiot!" Kageyama yells back, bending down "You're gonna wake him up!" then he gently picks up his kid, moving his head so it can rest on his shoulder "Hey, are you that tired? Maybe I should take you to your mom..."

🍼 Atsumu's boy suddenly stops in the middle of the mini race, and looks back at his father, just as Hoshiumi's girl had done before. Suddenly finding himself too far away from him, his eyes fill with tears and he starts crying uncontrollably.

🍼 Atsumu tries to encourage him to keep crawling forward, suddenly panicking a bit.

"Don't cry! Don't cry!" he says, slowly walking towards his kid.

"It doesn't counts if you help him move!" Hoshiumi tells him, keeping a close eye to his girl "Come on! Let's beat this guys!"

Atsumu kisses his little boy cheeks and ruffles his hair, trying to calm him down a bit "Come on, come on, please stop cryin'. Your mom will kill me if she sees you cryin'"

"Maybe he's hungry" Hinata pipes up, making Kageyama snort.

"Hey, go feed your kid or something"

🍼Both Hinata and Hoshiumi's girls are the only ones that keep pushing forward by then, on a clear intent to reach their favorite plushies, while both dads cheer them on excitedly, hoping to bring victory home for their team.

🍼 It's a close race, with Hinata's baby girl giggling as she moves, and Hoshiumi's daughter crawling forward with the same energy his father always has.

🍼 Then, when they're almost about to reach their respective toys, a side door opens, and both Ushijima and Kiyoomi emerge from it, making the toddlers stop short.

🍼 "What is this?" Ushijima asks, looking down at the babies, and then at the parents.

Kiyoomi makes a face behind him "You shouldn't let your kids crawl on the floor. What kind of parents are you?"

"Ignore them, baby girl!" Hoshiumi yells "Go get that teddy bear!"

🍼 But it's in vain, as both girls start crawling again, but this time towards the two men that just entered the room. Ushijima looks at them with the curiosity of someone who still doesn't has kids, while Kiyoomi slowly retreats back.

"I have a child too" he says, trying to keep his facemask in place "I shouldn't be getting near other kids, so I don't get their germs and infect mine"

"What the hell is your problem?" Kageyama angrily whispers "My child doesn't have any germs!"

🍼 Both babies end up being picked by Ushijima, and the race ends with no winners whatsoever.

"Babies are...interesting" Ushijima says, juggling one on each arm. "And this small t-shirts of our teams..."

"Aren't they so cute?" Atsumu asks, having finally managed to calm his baby "Mine is the cutest tho, of course. But still"

🍼 At the end, the mini match didn't had any winners, but it might have served to convince Ushijima to try and have his own child.

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gatitties · 1 year

Note

kinda wondering if you could write wakatoshi ushijima x fem! basketball player reader headcanons where compared to him, she's the social butterfly with her being so cheery, upbeat and optimistic but is a hyperactive person that none can keep up with her energy. (and maybe a tomboy as well) also she doesn't seem to be intimated with ushijima's appearance at all after meeting him?

─Ushijima Wakatosi x fem!reader

─Summary: a confusion makes you meet the volleyball captain with whom you decided to befriend like anyone else

─Warnings: none

just say that they accidentally write basketball player but they referred volleyball player

─ The first time you met Ushijima he mistook you for a boy trying to get into the gym's girl bathrooms.

─ Definitely none of you had a good vision of the other, because he scolded you for trying to spy on the other girls while you were offended by the accusation, you got to the point of telling him that if he wanted you could show him a tit so he would believe you.

─ Luckily for both of us, one of your friends came out asking why you were taking so long to come in, you were usually one of the first to wash up after an intense volleyball practice.

─ Ushijima completely confused there while you rubbed in his face that you were right, of course, you hadn't felt the least bit intimidated by his presence in this little incident you wouldn't on other occasions.

─ The second time you saw him was because he came to apologize for the misunderstanding, Ushijima can be many things and among them a true gentleman who knows how to accept and correct his mistakes.

─ You didn't need much more and automatically 'adopt' him into your friends list than one, they don't have that many friends or two, they're not very talkative.

─ At the end of the day you ended up coinciding in volleyball tournaments, he appreciated your passion for the game that he also enjoyed, and sometimes if he could go to see your games.

─ No one can change this thought, but a tireless person full of energy is equal to a libero (most of the time) so yes, that was your position.

─ Ushijima doesn't mind that you're the one who always leads the flow of the conversation, he has Tendou on his team so he's used to it, he's a good listener.

─ He doesn't care that whenever you decide to go for a run or a walk, you stop to say hello to almost half of the students you meet, although if this interrupts the rhythm he will simply put you on his shoulder and continue running with your weight dead on it, you keep waving to people from there.

─ You are Shiratorizawa's personal cheerleader, yes, yes, we all know that they have an amazing band that sings and claps the anthem, but the entire male team will always find you in the crowd, either because of your screams or because you decided to buy a costume of eagle as if you were the mascot of the team.

─ No doubt you and Tendou are best friends after you and Ushijima start dating.

─ There is not much change after that, you continue to behave the same with each other, only now there is more intimacy on other occasions.

─ He respects that you want to catch up with the large number of friends you have just as you know that he has a strict training schedule, but you always make time to be together despite this.

─ Many students question how the most expressive person on campus ended up with the least expressive, they assumed that opposites attract, or rather, complement each other.

#hq #haikyuu #haikyuu xreader #reader insert #request #fem reader #volleyball player #ushijima x reader #ushijima #wakatoshi #sfw #headcannons #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa x reader

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mambalae-s · 10 months

Text

wc: 7.8k words

cw: milf! reader; reader is described as a plus sized black woman; masturbation (m); public masturbation (m); no penetrative sex; fantasizing — throat fucking; one (1) mention of a daddy kink; one sided sexual tension; wakatoshi is a simp; he’s down bad; let me know if i’m forgetting anything!

notes from author: so, i’d wound myself up for an entire month working on this and i still had so much i wanted to write for it despite it already being nearly 8,000 words long…! i’ll certainly try my best to make a second part for this, one i’ll want to write from our reader’s experience too! this, truthfully, wasn’t the first idea for my milf reader idea, but i think it’s so much better, and i’m happy with the plot i settled with! i hope that, at least even a little bit, it’ll be satisfying for you to read, too!

it’s amidst a blistering summer’s day when you move into the house next to his.

there’s blood pumping beneath ushijima wakatoshi’s skin and boiling beneath each heavy breath that wafts from his swollen lips. his feet pound against the paved roads as he jogs at a steady pace, and he feels his fibers tinge with a static as they blaze beneath the sweltering noon’s heat, a familiar ache ebbing deep within his muscles and crawling through his veins. the sweat clinging to his brow burns like a toxin that pours out through every cell, his heart beating with the drums that pound through his airpods and teach him a dance he’d learned many times before. iwaizumi had told him once that running could be as addictive as any drug, and here, beneath clear blue skies and through heavy draws of air, wakatoshi considers that maybe he was right.

he takes a deep breath as he mounds the slight hill that leads to his house, and abruptly, his pace halts, chest heaving still as his eyes take to the moving truck parked out in front of the house next to his; a house that had, for a while, remained empty, certainly gathering dust and stale air after the elderly couple had moved away nearly a month long past. it had been easy for him to forget all about the vacant space, what with him dedicating his days to training and months of traveling for practice and tournaments, and it seems that, within that time, someone’s finally purchased it and were moving in today.

he’d been gone long enough for the hard working men to have finished their work, wakatoshi muses, as he watches them pack away their trollies and begin making to either door of their truck. though, as he stands there, he feels puzzled, confused and seeking reason to something he can’t find. there’s nothing spectacular about seeing these two men readying to go about their day, nothing that should keep wakatoshi’s feet planted and his laboured breaths stilling beneath the wind, yet he finds himself waiting, lulled into a curiosity that he can’t explain as he watches the break lights glow red and listens to the engine roaring to life.

and then, he sees you.

you, who wears a gorgeous sundress, deep purple fabric woven like a tapestry of flowers that blossom over a body of voluptuous curves. he finds himself enraptured by your brown skin that shines beneath the scorching sun like smoky quartz, by the sweat that lines your brow as he likens the glistening sight of it to beautiful jewels that shine around your smile and set you alight with the luster of ten thousand diamonds. the strands of your black hair, they sheen on the painting of the midnight sky; dark and elegantly falling around your round face and pouring like a river of obsidian and black tourmaline across your busty chest.

“thank you so much once again,” your voice comes through with fluency in his mother tongue, the japanese you speak perhaps a little regional… osaka, he considers, or kyoto? your voice sings on the breathlessness of intense labour, and wakatoshi deludes himself into thinking that the exhaustion on your sultry voice mirrors the intensely beating heart that stirs in his chest with a restlessness that he doesn’t attribute to his run. “seriously, you two… i can’t tell you how much i appreciate coming all this way!”

the older men you speak to are friendly in their departure, cheering with bright smiles that resemble yours in their warmth and openness as they drive down the deep slope, passing him by the side and far from his mind as he loses his focus on you. suddenly, the fog that clouds his mind doesn’t come from a sweltering summer’s day, but instead from the picture of you, hot and bothered and eyes squeezed shut as you try to wave cool air over your wet skin. the daze that locks around his tongue is the one of your sheen-covered lips as they part and let pass the heavy breaths that sit on your chest, of the rise and fall of your large breasts and the bit of tummy that he can see atop your curves. that daze that consumes wakatoshi, he tells it to lust — a venom that crawls through his bloodstream and tinges his tongue with desire unchecked, so that he becomes consumed by you and the deceptively innocent visage that burns itself into his skin. and suddenly, wakatoshi feels too damn hot, his heart beats so hard he fears it’ll leap right from his throat, and his pants are too damn tight.

oh. fuck… how embarrassing could it be to get a hard on in front of your new neighbour? he didn’t think he’d ever have to ponder such a specific scenario, and he certainly isn’t happy to have a taste of it first hand. even worse, what is he supposed to do when the very same neighbour turns her eyes to him and catches him staring like some demented creep? wakatoshi’s face burns with a heat that far precedes the blazing sun and he wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole as his mouth starts to taste of sand and parchment paper. really, he shames himself, how appallingly embarrassing!

just like a guilty child, he averts his eyes as his blood boils across his neck. his feet act on their own, guided by the desire to disappear as quickly as he can with hurried steps and trembling hands that are more than eager to open his front door and seal him behind their sanctuary, and he feels even more guilt for awkwardly avoiding the kind yet confused smile you’d sent his way as you watched the large man scurry up his front steps. the protruding bulge that pokes out from his trousers is so painfully obvious, almost aching behind its confines as he prays that you hadn’t had enough time to notice it. and even then, behind his barrier of safety, he’s left with a problem — a very big one that powders his nose red and takes his breath on laboured climbs.

huffing, wakatoshi trudges to the kitchen, desperately searching his refrigerator for the coldest bottle of water he can find and starts chugging right away. arctic drops spill between his lips and down his throat, though the chill does nothing to dissipate the heat coursing beneath his skin and inside his pants. he doesn’t intend to slam the now half empty bottle down on his counter the way he does, but he loses control and water spills over, and his olive eyes only glare at the puddle that drips over on his marbled floor with something of disdain and increasing frustration.

for all that was holy, he can’t stop thinking of you. even now, with cold water sticking to his skin and poured over his bare feet, wakatoshi cannot get this image of you out of his mind and is rendered powerless to the aching boner that refuses to go away. within just one moment, you’ve seeped into his mind like a parasite that morphs and festers on sin and fornication, plaguing him with your large breasts and plump thighs that sheened with sweat and poured out from beneath your sundress. it’s a hard battle he faces with himself, feeling morally disgusted by the thoughts he finds himself with, and all about a stranger, no less. there’s no way he could be acting so depraved, right? is he a man so starved that the mere sight of an admittedly attractive woman could send him reeling like a damn teenage boy?

once more, wakatoshi heaves a heavy sigh, slouching for a moment with hands clenching the edge of his black stone counter before he rises to his full height. it’ll do him good to at least clean up this spill, and perhaps, he thinks, he aught to keep himself busy — surely then, he’ll forget all about you, and this glaring problem beneath his trousers will forget you too.

thankfully, it’s easier than he’d had hoped to fill the hours of his day. after taking care of his spill, wakatoshi takes to his home gym and continues working out till the late evening, when he showers and prepares himself to settle in with a cup of white wine and a book that he’d bought himself a while back, though only just recently had the time to begin. it’s only so rare for him to be able to enjoy slow days like this between training and volleyball tournaments, and he finds himself at peace with this lull in his schedule. finally, he feels relaxed and at ease, and his stressful situation from the afternoon earlier is far from his mind, until there’s a knock at his front door, and his heart lurches in his chest.

apprehensive, he turns his jade coloured eyes to the smoky glass panels by his entrance, and he feels his tongue turn heavy when he sees you waiting. for a moment, he hopes that you’ll give up if he doesn’t answer, though he immediately feels a bit guilty for thinking that. you’re only wanting to greet your new neighbour and make a good first impression, he considers, and it certainly isn’t any fault of yours the situation he’d found himself in earlier that day. you’re entirely blameless, and it’s really him who apparently needs to mature and grow a bit more than he’d thought. taking a long sip from his glass of chardonnay, wakatoshi builds himself on liquid courage and meets you by his doorway — though there’s no amount of wine that could’ve possibly prepared him for the sight that greets him once he opens the door.

you’re here, but you hadn’t come alone. hiding behind each leg are a young boy and girl who look about the same age and share striking resemblance to your own soft features. heads topped by black, wavy curls, with her tied in pigtails and his cut to his shoulders, there’s curiosity in their dark brown eyes as they appraise him, and he feels almost as if they’re judging him with something that he can’t identify. and you, you smile sweetly at him, your lips painted with a clear gloss that shines golden beneath the lights of his entryway’s chandelier.

“i’m sorry for disturbing you so late in the night, mister,” you offer your apology, and wakatoshi can hear more clearly the distinction in your accent that he’d only briefly heard before. now, as he listens attentively, unconsciously taking in the sultriness of your voice as your words flow from your two-toned lips, he’s certain that it really is a kansai dialect. “i’d just wanted to introduce ourselves since we’d just moved into the neighbourhood.” you lift your hands, that he now notices are not empty, to present a beautifully packaged basket with a little pink bow tying it closed. “and we also brought you these as a gift — a thank you gift, kind of! for having us here with you!”

wakatoshi accepts the gift basket from your hands, trying his best not to focus on the way you tuck your hair behind your ears and beam brightly up at him. standing so close, he’s able to notice new things about you that he wishes he didn’t feel so curious about; like the way you style yourself elegantly, your straight black hair parted to the side, curling the smaller hairs surrounding your forehead so that they lay neatly and perfectly brushed to frame your round face, or the fact that you stand several inches shorter than him, perhaps only barely reaching his chest. he wishes he doesn’t take in the clothes you wear and how they fit your beautiful figure, how your white cardigan hangs elegantly over a beige tank top and khaki coloured pants that accentuate your mature body. he tries, not to notice these many things about you, and so hopelessly fails, as he clears his throat and tries to offer you a polite smile that he hopes doesn’t come off as a grimace.

“thank you for being so thoughtful,” he says, and your smile widens, your eyes creasing around your expression as you respectfully bow.

“it’s my pleasure! i really should be thanking you for welcoming us this late!” theres a timidness to your grin as you lift yourself to full standing once more and you bashfully laugh. “it took us a little longer than we thought to prepare all our gift baskets — oh, right!” your eyes widen on a realization, “my name’s (l/n) (f/n), and these two here,” gesturing to the two children behind you, you bend down a bit to rest a hand on either of their backs. “this here is asahi, and this is makoto.”

the two young children, with your encouragement, bow their heads in greeting to him, with the boy — asahi — quickly returning to hide behind your leg, while makoto continues to stare at him, now with her curiosity unbridled and what looks like an eagerness that roars beneath her brown eyes.

he looks back up at you and offers a bow of his own, ducking his head with the basket clutched to his chest. “my name’s ushijima wakatoshi,” he says his name, and immediately, he hears two simultaneous gasps from the children by your feet. though, at least in this moment, he decides not to ponder too much on the expression. “thank you for introducing yourselves and for bringing a gift.”

you wave your hand in a ‘shoo shoo’ motion and shake your head. “no need for thanks, ushijima-san,” you hum, “really, it’s nothing much, but i hope you’ll be able to find good use for them— ”

“are you a volleyball player?”

suddenly, the little girl, makoto, blurts out a question that causes your eyes to widen and catches him off guard as you both turn your attention to her. she continues to stare up at him, as if awaiting his answer despite you reaching for her hand to gently pull her back. “makoto!” you exhale, a bit surprised, it seemed, as if you hadn’t expected her to ask something like that. though wakatoshi, he doesn’t take any issue at all with her question, and he simply nods his head, once more offering the most polite of smiles he can muster.

“that’s right. i play volleyball.”

you seem to recognize something within the awe-filled gazes of the two children that he doesn’t, because before either of them can get a word out, you’re hurriedly reaching for their hands and making your way down the stairs. “thanks so much again, mr. ushijima!” you call back to him with one free hand, leaving the man standing stunned inside his doorway as you walk away from him. “let’s get along well from now on!” when you think you’re far enough, he thinks he hears your voice taking to astonishment as the little girl whines a complaint — “but mom, we saw him on tv! it’s really him!” and your response heavily pouring with your dialect as you lightly scold her for blurting out so suddenly.

he’s left here, basket in his hand as he hears several gears creaking to their abrupt stops and clanking as they fall apart in his mind. mom? she’d said mom, hadn’t she? with ghostly steps that are far too quiet for a man of his stature, wakatoshi shuffles to his expansive living room where he sets your gift atop his clear glass coffee table, right next to his glass of wine and his book, and collapses into the black suede sofa behind him. you’re a mother? the guilt that consumes him tastes bitter and threatens to crawl up his throat. he sits, hands folded above his lips as his elbows dig into his thighs, and he stays this way for one minute, then two, constantly replaying the sound of your daughter calling you mom. your daughter, your daughter and son, you have a daughter and a son who both call you mom—

wearily, wakatoshi’s eyes glaze over your cutely packaged gift and straight to the glass of wine that sits like a pretty temptation, and cruelly, he thinks of how you are just the same. a beautiful and painfully enticing temptation that will surely render him helpless if he gets any more involved with you. he groans, hissing under his breath as he reaches for the glass and stands up. it’ll serve him better to retire for the night, he concedes, a hand nursing the growing migraine that sits on either side of his head. he’ll finish his glass and read his book peacefully in bed, and for the second time this day, wakatoshi will forget all about you.

except, he doesn’t.

amidst his waking dreams and long night, forgetting you is impossible. how can he, when you come to him here in his bed, the straps of your purple dress falling from your brown shoulders and your breasts pouring out from the thin material? how is wakatoshi supposed to forget you when in his dreams, you tease him with the likeness of a vixen, when you lift the edges of your skirt to show him just how plump and fleshy your thighs and ass are, whispering “do you wish to touch me, mr. ushijima?” in that sultry, silk-like voice of yours. he dreams of the way your eyes would roll back into your skull if he brushes his fingers over that sweet spot between your legs, if his tongue traces lines over your panties until your knees buck and you fall right on top of him. in his dreams, he wants you so much that it’s an ache he needs to fill, until he’s unconsciously fucking his mattress and squeezing his pillows with a vice. his breathing is laboured and tasting of honey as he begs you yes, yes, please, i need you… need you so bad, please i need to touch you—

his climax rocks his body like an earthquake and tears him away from sleep with a jolt, his chest heaving as sweat clings to his skin and his eyes, disoriented, search his dark room for your image before they fall to the soiled mess leaking through his boxers and between his thighs. his damn cock is twitching, still painfully sensitive, and wakatoshi stutters through a gasp as his hips buck uncontrollably, as if chasing some phantom feeling, cum still continuing to spurt from the angry red tip. he reels from pure shock and a bit of morbid amazement as he reflects on his dream, and as he recalls those dirty visuals his mind managed to conjure, he lets out a loud, frustrated cry and falls flat against his mattress. really, is this the man he is? a perverted fool who has inappropriate thoughts and dreams about another man’s wife?

he curses himself, and curses his mind too, as he begrudgingly swings his legs over the edge of his california king and. sleep evades him now, he certainly fears reliving that dream that felt far too realistic, your touches, the taste of you — all far too real that it leaves him shaken. one hand lifts to brush his sweat-matted hair away from his forehead as his eyes disdainfully behold the mess he’s left all over his dark sheets, where his semen sits in a large puddle while there are still drops running down his thighs, and he unwillingly thinks about you once more. those sounds that your voice made in his dream, all those dirty songs and cries of his name that you’d uttered, the way your skin felt so supple and soft beneath his hands as he felt you up and spread your legs apart—

a surprised moan causes wakatoshi to slap a hand around his mouth as his cock twitches in his soiled boxers, still very hard and leaking through the now cold material. no, he decides, he really won’t be able to fall asleep again — not like this, at least. but wakatoshi has practice in the morning, and within all his years of playing volleyball, he’d never gone a night without proper sleep. for the umpteenth time, he groans helplessly, flopping back down on the edge of his bed. he glares at his boner, wishing it would just peacefully deflate and that, really this time, he could forget you and just go back to bed; and again, once again, he sighs, and submits himself to a decision he’s certain that he’ll immediately curse himself for as he pulls out his cock and wraps his fist around it.

he hates himself for it, but it’s so easy for him to build a perfect fantasy of you. one where you’re sitting prettily on your knees and batting those doe-brown eyes up at him through your lashes. his hand squeezes softly around his erection and at first, he moves slowly, choking back each heavy breath of air that threatens to burst through tightly pursed lips. but god, he thinks of the way you’d tease him, slowly tracing your mouth over the tip and leaving a trail of saliva and strawberry flavoured lip-gloss while your manicured nails would trace tantalizingly lines down his thighs. his hips buck impatiently into his own fist and his chest heaves with soft grunts that become more uninhibited as he imagines you finally slipping him into your warm mouth and his very spirit crumbles on the lust that consumes him.

“does that feel good, mr. ushijima?” you’d beseech him, so eager to please as you’d trace your tongue across his leaking slit, collecting the drops of precum that poured out and smear it around your lips. and he’d be just as breathless as he feels in his fantasy, trying and failing to conceal each gasp that evades him as he nods, “yes.. yes, your mouth feels so fucking good.” he’d force you to swallow him whole, pushing your head down to the base until you’d choke and your eyes would water as he’d throw his head back — without his will, his hand moves faster around his cock and fills his dark bedroom with filthy, sloppy noises. “take every inch, don’t you fucking dare spit it out. that’s it, shit…just like that. swallow it all the way down.”

he thinks of how fleshy and warm the back of your throat would feel as you’d gag around him and dig your nails into his thigh, struggling to take even a single breath through your nostrils as he’d mercilessly fuck your face. he’d drag you off him suddenly and slap his cock against those messy lips, and he’d get to admire the way you’d fall apart as your mouth lolls open as if begging him to put it back in. “ohh, such a greedy little slut, aren’t you?” he’d taunt, and a particularly loud, wanton moan rises from his chest as he imagines the way you’d use your hands all while staring up at him. you’d be the very picture of salaciousnes as your hands wrap around his smeared length, teasing the underside of him with your tongue and groaning through your own arousal. he imagines how he’d wrap his hand around your throat as he’d tower over you; he’d have your face pressed right up to his stomach while he’d reach down and grab a handful of your breasts, reeling at how soft and squishy they’d feel pouring between his already large hands before he’d twist your nipples, and you’d whine like a helpless nymph from how sensitive your body would become. “go on, then.” he’d hum, and he wouldn’t give you even a second to prepare before he’d have you choking around his length, groaning as spit would bubble around his erection and pour from your nostrils. “use those pretty little lips of yours. mhm, let daddy feel your tongue on his dick while he fucks your throat.”

and its as he pictures the way your eyes would roll into the back of your head, cheeks puffed and stuffed full as you whine around him that, for the second time that night, wakatoshi cums into his fist. pleasure sears through his teeth and down his spine as spurts of semen explode from his slit and he forgets himself on the suddenness of his orgasm. “shit… ahh— aahhhh, shit!” the spots in his vision and the heat that consumes him from his bone and to his skin, it all coalescences on a pleasure he’d never once felt in his thirty-three years of living. his entire body trembles and his cock twitches against his abs, cum splashing against his sweat-sheened skin and dripping over his skin like hot, molten lava. the afterglow of pleasure is forsaken for the adrenaline that courses through his blood and turns the taste of his tongue to metals untold.

through his bliss, wakatoshi reaches clarity, and is overwhelmed by an intense wave of disgust and repulsion as he glares at his cock so feebly slapping against his stomach; it’s still hard, the damn thing, and every cell in his body craves ravenously for more, more, more…but he refuses. absolutely refuses to repeat what he’d just done. for christ’s sake, you are a mother — a wife to someone who you return to each night, who gets to hold you and touch you, to whom you may give your heart and gentle affections to. tonight had been a mistake, he tells himself; an irrational lapse in judgement, and come morning — he means it this time, really! truthfully! — he’ll forget all about this sin, and forget about you. you’ll be nothing more than a new neighbour who moved in with your family, and your interactions will be few and far between, enough that he’ll be forgiven for the immorality that he’d let himself fall to.

but the devil, oh, the devil, bless his soul, he has his tricks, and he loves to play.

wakatoshi hasn’t at all forgotten about the previous night, but he pretends that he has. on the cusp of dawn, when the rising sun sinks her warm fingers through his tousled hair, he focuses on his beating heart and his laboured breath as he jogs through the park and back through his gated community. he pretends that he didn’t jerk off to his new neighbour and envision her doing the dirtiest things to him, and he almost succeeds.

almost.

he nearly swears when he walks out of his front door the next morning and bumps into you at the earliest hours of dawn. there you are, where you shouldn’t be — not this early in the morning before the sun had risen, when he’d made sure to leave early enough that he would’ve avoided this situation exactly. it’s summer, isn’t it? why, wakatoshi wonders, had you woken up so early? could he really be do unlucky? he sees you and your two children, and he’s now certain that they must be twins, and you’re too busy fixing their backpacks on their backs and fussing over their hair and faces to even notice him awkwardly frozen by his doorstep.

“you both have everything you need, right?” your voice reaches him on tones of faint worry and anxiousness as you lean down over your children, unwittingly showing off your rack for him to see between the button up blouse you wear. even from where he stands, it’s such a clear picture that he feels his head spin as his eyes remain glued there. “you’ve got your toothbrushes and toothpaste? lotion? shampoo and conditioner?”

your son, asahi, tries to escape your busy hands, though it doesn’t dissuade you very much it seems. “mama, we already have everything!” he grumbles with a slight pout, “we’ll be alright.”

a quiet sigh falls from your lips as, finally, you relent, kneeling down to hug your two children. “i know you will be, asahi,” you whisper softly before pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. “promise me you’ll both be good and have lots of fun, alright? can you send me a text when you get there safely?” both the twins nod their head yes before placing a kiss on either of your cheeks, and wakatoshi finds the sight endearing as he sees your smile brighten on tenderness and motherly affection. a part of him feels as if he’s intruding on what should be a family’s private and treasured moment, something precious that should only be seen by your husband and not the creepy neighbour next door. his stomach turns in on itself and, like a demon he can’t escape, guilt and shame crawl over his neck.

“bye mama!” makoto is the first one to hop on to her bike, waving her hand excitedly and full of energy despite the early morning, while her twin follows in a far less eager manner as he waves at you too. “i love you!”

“i love you mama..!”

“i love you both, you two!” now standing at full height, you wave both your hands as both asahi and makoto start to pedal away. “make sure to have lots of fun!”

before long, both your children have gone down the hill and you’re left alone with a wistful smile, and wakatoshi finds himself desperate to go before you have the chance to notice him standing. his normally sure feet fail him on a moment as he stumbles in his hurriedness, and in his attempt to steady himself, his hands fall slack and drop the very large, very metal he’d bottle been carrying with a loud clang! that causes your head to whip around. he meets your gaze, shame bubbling in his gut and he wishes that lightning would just fall from the sky and take him from his misery. what happened to avoiding you as best as he could? he wonders, what happened to leaving at the crack of dawn and being on his way before he’d need to lay eyes on you again so soon after last night?

wakatoshi is so embarrassed that he could die.

“ah! good morning, mr. ushijima.” you, oblivious to his plight, greet him politely, bowing your head. he notices the way you absentmindedly pull your cardigan over your sheer night dress, the chill from the morning mist having caused you to shiver a little. your nipples have turned hard and poke through the thin white material, and are very, very visible without him needing to try and see them. he purses his lips, sighs through his nostrils and averts his gaze, focusing instead on retrieving his traitorous waterbottle and praying that his grey slacks do well to hide the problem that now begins to grow beneath them.

“good morning, mrs. (l/n.)”

he tries to focus on his feet as he descends down his front steps, ensuring that he doesn’t lose his footing once more rather than looking at you. and yet, he can’t help the awkwardness that he feels as every muscle in his body seems to have tensed up despite him having gone jogging to warm himself up. you remain none the wiser, something he’s thankful for, as he hopes and prays that he can get past you and on his way before you notice his strange demeanour.

“do you normally get up this early?” you ask in a polite attempt at making small talk, to which wakatoshi offers you a slight nod as he gives you just enough of his attention.

“yes,” and, admittedly, he’s also curious, and he returns a question against his better judgement. “do you?”

laughter bubbles up from your lips as you shake your head. “goodness, no!” you chime playfully, lifting your watch to see the hour; 5:39. “it’s too early for me, but asahi and makoto are about to start summer camp for their club — i’d only been seeing them off today.”

he offers an understanding nod, similarly recalling the days of his youth where he’d also attended summer camps during elementary through high school. right now, he considers would be a perfect time to end this conversation and see himself away now that he’s heard what he wanted from you, but something in him urges him to stay, to talk to you more and spend some time with you. he knows he’s not the best at small talk, is all too aware that his social skills are terrible, at their worst, incredibly abysmal, but he wants to try — against his better moment, and he’s reminding himself all the while that you’re a mother and a married woman, but despite that, he wants to talk more with you. perhaps, and it’s a delusion that he forces himself to believe, he’d want to be friendly with you. it’ll certainly be easier than perpetually avoiding you when you’d done nothing wrong to him, after all.

“are you—” fuck, his voice sounds scratchy as he clears his throat, blush creeping over his cheeks. “are you um… headed back to bed then?”

as you ponder his question, he gets to take in your morning appearance. your hair’s been brushed and tied back with a little white bow, and your lips look air brushed and as soft as rose petals. hugging your sides beneath your cardigan, you shiver, and wakatoshi notices the way you slightly lean back and forth on your heels. “i guess it’d be a waste to try and sleep again now,” you hum with your gaze turned towards the horizon, where the sun begins to peak over the far off mountain on soft blue touched by golden hues. “i’ll need to be ready for work in a few hours.” you turn your gaze to him with a cheekish grin, and his heart skips a beat. “why not start my morning now, right?”

oh. oh, this is bad. for the second time, waktoshi tries to clear his throat with a hand covering his mouth and averts his eyes from your beaming face. “i’ll let you get to it then,” he says, his voice sounding so small and timid to him that he feels his mind reeling and his tongue turning heavy. “enjoy the rest of your morning, ms. (l/n).”

“thank you, ushijima-san! you do the same, okay?” for a second, he lets his eyes find yours, and they dazzle him within just that moment that he has to look away. he leaves as you re-enter your home, and it’s the only thing he can do to squeeze the straps of his bag to rid himself of the jittery feeling racking through his spine. his heart beats too loudly and he feels dazed, as if he walks on clouds and forgets how to even breathe.

he doesn’t— no, he can’t be; his feet break from the slow pace as he breaks into a jog, each muscle within him burning cold and begging for release from the thoughts in his mind. there’s no way… he doesn’t like you, does he? why else would he have dreamt of you the way he had? why else would he feel so nervous and timid when you stand face to face? the morning dew tastes like liquid mercury and sets through his veins on a violent rush as he runs, as far away from you as he can get, hoping to immediately expel you from his thoughts, to escape this hold that you seem to have locked around him.

he laughs at himself, helpless and bewildered; is he really nothing more than a foolish boy? at thirty-something years old, ushijima wakatoshi is developing a crush on his married neighbour — even the mere notion to him is so adamantly ridiculous that he could throw himself off a bridge. he feels embarrassed, utterly and completely mortified, and it’s for his sake that he tries to push the notion far, far away, so that, at least for the day, he wouldn’t have to think about it. he suppresses these budding epiphanies in the face of his teammates, who tease him for being seven minutes later than he usually is and tries to ignore the fact that it’s all because he’d stayed and talked with you. he tries to forget about you through the drills and practice rounds, lets the heavy beating of his heart turn its turmoil into adrenaline and sweat that seeps through his thin shirt. wakatoshi falls into routine and this time, certainly, this time, he’s moved on. the feelings that soaked through his core on the early morning’s dawn have disappeared and melted away on summer’s blistering heat, and he thinks that finally, he can let go of that ghost that’s haunted him from the night until morn.

but noon, as it always does, succeeds the dawn, and there you are.

the burn in his muscles turns to a seething fire that he fears will consume him right where he stands, amidst the people around him going about their days while he remains glued in place. his heart, oh the poor thing, it beats on the fallings of a thousand horses and threatens to rip right from between his rips and spill itself out on the pavement. wakatoshi wants to run, he wants to take flight and escape into the burning sun, but his feet fail him on the jolts that run through his aching muscles when your eyes, oh, he imagines he sees the world in them, find his amidst the sea that threatens to swallow him whole.

“ah? mr. ushjimima!” your voice calls out to him a surprise he thinks he feels on tenfold as you approach the man. god, how many hours has it been, even? he’d only just seen you this morning, isn’t it too soon for him to be put through this never-ending crisis? he doesn’t feel as if he’s ready, as if he can look you in the eyes while trying to force away the memories of last night, or the turbulent mess that dances and ties red knots around his throbbing heart. “i didn’t expect to see you here too.”

neither did i, he thinks helplessly, though he offers a single words that sounds choked up in his throat, “practice.”

“oh!” you chime, your eyes gazing behind him to where the large sports gym stays only so many paces behind — if he really wants, wakatoshi could easily pretend that he has to return if only to escape from you, but he doesn’t — for some incomprehensible reason, his tongue betrays him with the phantom taste of you.

“well,” you smile, and laughter spills from your lips as you tuck your hair behind your ear and meet his eyes from behind your lashes. “i didn’t think i’d see you again so soon — and at my place of work, no less.”

i didn’t think i would, either, wakatoshi thinks to himself, and then your words rewind in his mind and everything halts. your place of work? the question spills from his lips before he can even think to stop it. “you work here?”

you nod with a hum, gesturing with your palm to the academic buildings that span the expansive lot. “i teach vocal composition and contemporary piano courses here.”

“ah.” of course. wakatoshi is bewildered; how unlucky could he be? for the married woman he fantasized about to be working at the very same university that his team frequents for volleyball practice? he takes a moment to curse the heavens and the cruel gods within them because certainly, they must find humour in his agony.

like lasers, wakatoshi’s eyes become too hyperfocused on you all at once. there’s sweat gleaming down your neck and dipping between your breasts and trailing wet marks down your v-line as you, absentmindedly, fan at yourself. he takes in the way your eyes scrunch together and your lips part with a heavy breath, a sigh that, to his ears, sounds lewd and filthy, and on that single breath, his world runs like a viscous furnace. he’s like a moth drawn to each and every detail about you that swells on the summer’s heat and as he stands here, everything consumes him — the slight pout of your full, puffy lips, the display of your breasts that look so big that they could pop out of your low button up dress at any second, those big, doe-like eyes of yours that are so close to rolling back beneath the agonizing heat — every bit of you accords into a vision of immeasurable pleasure and lust, and then you look at him, head tilted back and panting ever so slightly, and it’s enough and too much all at the same time.

“it’s awfully hot today, isn’t it, mr. ushijima?”

wakatoshi thinks he’ll lose his mind.

something breaks like a faucet and pours scalding water all over himself as he feels his grey sweats becoming too tight, too confining, just like the situation he finds himself in and he decides that now would be the perfect time to leave. “i have to head back.” he nearly stutters over his abrupt sentence, and he sees the slightly startled look that comes over your sun kissed face. again, he feels guilty for fooling you, for lying straight to those innocently pure eyes that are none the wiser of the effects you have on him. in a pathetic attempt that he doubts you’ll even believe, he tries to dissuade you with a simple, yet suffocated, “practice is gonna start soon.”

“oh, of course!” his lie seems to work, and wakatoshi hopes that the relief that locks inside his throat isn’t too obvious as you turn your feet to the opposite direction. “i didn’t mean to hold you up, i’m so sorry!”

“no, it’s alright.” it’s not, but what is he supposed to say? “i’m sure you’ll need to prepare for your next class soon.”

you giggle, hiding your smile behind your hand, and your eyes crinkle at the corners. “you’re right. it was a very nice surprise to see you again, mr. ushijima!”

as he makes his pathetic escape, wakatoshi prays that you don’t find him weird after this, but perhaps if you’d have any inclination of what he’d done, what he’s about to do, would you look at him in disgust? of course you would — he asks himself, how could you not? his feet can’t take him to the secluded gym fast enough as he forsakes everything about himself, purely fueled now by this burning desire that’s carnal in its awakening. the bathroom door locks and the bolt slams with a loud click, the ac languidly blowing through this confined area not nearly enough to quell the fire blazing across his skin. it’s immoral and utterly deprived what he considers doing, and the shame he feels is bound to be an eternal scar. yet in this moment, with his cock so painfully hard and pressing uncomfortably against his thigh, leaking so much precum that it stains through the thick material of his shorts, wakatoshi doesn’t care — not for the ungodliness of the act he’ll commit, nor for the consequences that could follow him. not now, at least. as he releases his throbbing member from its binds and wraps his fists around it, it’s the farthest thing from his mind as he thinks about you. again, it’s you.

the wind in his lungs is knocked out from his mouth as he rapidly pumps his dick. in an instant, the empty bathroom is filled with the squelching noises that bounce and echo off the tiled walls, only contested by his laboured breaths and groans. his knees threaten to lose their ground, and he desperately clutches the cold edge of the sink, the chill consuming his palm almost jarring to the aggressive heat that pours all through him. the image of you with your head tilted towards the sky, of your lips hanging open on salacious cries of his name as he envisions you on top of him, it all drives him to the brink of insanity.

wakatoshi thinks of your body in that tight button up dress blue dress. he thinks of how elegant and put together you looked, the picture perfect woman, and how he wants to tear apart only the top pins open and let your breasts fall out so that he could take them between his lips. how would you sound, he wondered, if he rolled your nipples between his teeth, sucked on them with his tongue until they’d turn hard and perky? would you cry out his name just like you always do? would that sweet voice of yours sing out on torrential pleasure as you’d call out to him, your thighs squeezing around his waist while your hips buck and wriggle over his cock? that innocent façade you wear, how quickly could he make you abandon all reason for desire, until you begged him with your words of honey for him to destroy you?

his fantasy falls apart and rips through him like a comet as cum explodes from his throbbing member and spills through his fingers, ever so narrowly missing his pants and spurting out on the tiled floors. it’s non-stop, this horrible, horrible mess that keeps on growing, his body jolting and knees feeling weak and he struggles to hold himself up because he can’t stop coming, so consumed in his fantasy that the moans he fought so hard to contain now ring freely inside the empty bathroom as his hand continues to milk every drop that jolts out of him. you’re the only thing in his mind, consuming him with hellfire as pleasure winds him up and tears him apart over and over again, and he knows he needs to stop, he’s being too loud, too careless, he could get caught, but god, does this taboo feel so good that he loses control. his depraved mind wonders on you catching him, cumming all over his hands like a depraved beast, all because of you?

there’s a daze that overcomes wakatoshi, heat fading to a warmth that fights for some kind of structure to hold on to as he, breathlessly, leans over the sink. his eyes look down between his legs, the length of his cock still twitching in his palm and cum smeared around it and webbing along his fingers. it doesn’t yet come to him, the reality of what he’s done, and its awakening is slow and steady, until it crashes all around him with the last wisps of adrenaline trickling out of his system. for a long time, he stares at his hands, at the mess smeared in his palm and all over his pants, and he meets his stare in his reflection. he stares, but doesn’t comprehend as a minute becomes two, and then five, and when it’s been far beyond ten, his body flushes over with red-hot embarrassment as he clenches his teeth and drops his head.

wakatoshi, filled with shame, wishes he could throw himself into the sun.

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