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#hq wakatoshi x reader
noosayog · 1 year
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[baby fever] ft. ushijima wakatoshi
wc: 400
iwaizumi | atsumu | osamu | sakusa | kageyama
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You’re standing outside the gym where the Olympics team is practicing when you see Iwaizumi walk by, hand in hand with a clumsily waddling toddler. Iwaizumi nods at you and the toddler waves a chubby arm at you. You giggle and wave back. 
“Did you want to wait inside?” Iwaizumi asks. 
You’re about to decline when the toddler tugs on your fingers. 
“Come in?” he asks. 
You agree, letting him lead you by his grip around your ring finger and pinky. Inside the gym, Iwaizumi asks you to watch his son as he finishes up with the team. The child quickly settles into your lap, his babbling trailing off as he dozes away. You’re fiddling with a loose thread in his little sweater when Wakatoshi comes up behind you, freshly showered. He greets you with a brief kiss on the head and sits quietly next to you when he sees the sleeping kid in your arms. 
“Who’s this?” 
“Iwaizumi’s son,” you respond distractedly.
Ushijima stares intently at you as you gently rock the small child in your arms. He continues to watch in silence as you double-knot his shoelaces, straighten the sleeves on his sweater, and swat away the drool at the corner of his open mouth. He notices when you laugh quietly at his little snores.
His eyes are still on you when you finally look up at him. 
“What,” you laugh. “What are you looking at?” 
Before he can answer, Iwaizumi comes to relieve you of childcare duties. He thanks you and you assure him that his son was wonderful. 
“You’re in a good mood,” Ushijima states. 
You only smile at him, swinging your clasped hands in wide arcs and skipping a bit. 
Later that night, with your back nestled into his broad chest, he rubs a warm, large palm on your tummy. The gesture is innocent and gentle, but the circles get slowly wider. 
“You like kids, huh?” As he talks, the palm slides up to cup your breasts. 
“Is that what this is about?” 
“What do you think,” he asks, hands not stopping. “About having kids.” 
You push him onto his back and roll on top of his chest, eye to eye with him. He gazes at you lovingly and you’ll never get tired of it. 
“I want a girl,” you say. “I really want to see your big muscly arms holding a pink blanket with our little daughter in it.”
He gives you a confused look, “if that’s what you want.” 
He flips the two of you over, hands back on your body. 
“What are you doing!” you laugh. 
“Starting now,” he says simply, as his hands continue their trail down your body.
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teamatsumu · 6 months
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CRUSH (ushijima wakatoshi x reader)
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summary: wakatoshi has a crush.
word count: 720
warnings: fem!reader, its all just fluff
tags: @keiva1000
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Ushijima knows he has fans. He might be simple-minded and a little oblivious, but he’s not stupid.
He knows girls stare at him from the balcony during practice. And he can hear their giggling when he passes them in the halls. Tendou often calls him Shiratorizawa’s Golden Boy, which Ushijima wholeheartedly disagrees with, but never voices out loud. Tendou often says strange things. He doesn’t mind.
Ushijima doesn’t understand his popularity. Sure, he is a good player. The best ace in the prefecture. But most of these girls have no understanding of volleyball. So why are they spending hours upon hours in the stands, watching him play?
“They’re not watching the match, Wakatoshi-kun. They are watching you.”
Hm. Strange. His play is very consistent. Watching him do the same thing over and over has to get boring, especially when they aren’t watching for the sake of the game.
But then he sees you for the first time.
You are in his third year English class. In his three years of high school, Ushijima is sure he has never seen you before. Because if he had, there was no way he would forget you.
He is curious. And a little enamored by you.
You are, by all means, a regular girl. You sit on the same chair every day, bring your own bento instead of eating from the cafeteria. It is always wrapped in a pretty multicolored patterned cloth, done up in a knot on top. You have a small stuffed cat chain on the zipper of your backpack. And you wear your hair differently every day. Some days it is tied up, some days it is let down. And some days it is half-up and half-down. You have one pink bunny hairclip that you wear maybe once every two or three days that Ushijima thinks is very cute. Your uniform is always immaculate.
There are so many tiny details about you that Ushijima has learned, and he finally understands why girls would stay hanging over the gym balcony to watch him for hours, because he could watch you for hours too.
You are very smart, he could tell. You always answer correctly when the teacher would call on you, and he has glimpsed at your notes. Simple, but neat and easy to understand, just the way he likes it. There are no crazy colors and highlighters, and your handwriting is neat and beautiful, just like the rest of you.
You are also quiet. You have a select group of friends that you talk to, and while you are nice to anyone who interacts with you, you don't go out of your way to stand out. Again, Ushijima loves that. It seems he loved everything about you. All the minor details that make you a little bit more unique to everyone else.
When you show up at his game, he nearly loses his focus.
It in’t an important game by any means, just a practice match with another local university team. So why are you here? Have your friends dragged you along? Or are you here by your own volition? Ushijima feels how sweaty his palms are when he clenches his fists, and it surprises him.
Is he….. nervous?
Why? Because you are watching? How ridiculous. Ushijima has never once doubted his own strength, or his ability to win. How could your presence alter that? The thought annoys him, and he is determined to prove that you being here would not be a hindrance to his play.
Turns out, he needn't have worried. It seems your presence had sharpened his senses more than ever. Shiratorizawa won in straight sets, and of the 50 points they scored, 39 had been from Ushijima’s hand.
“You were on fire today, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou comments as the final whistle rings. Ushijima unintentionally glances at you in the stands, cheering for the team. Cheering for him.
His heart is beating a mile a minute, and he doesn’t think it is because of the game he had just played. He hears Tendou let out a dreamy sigh.
“Ah, the miracles of having a crush.”
He feels his lips tick up in a tiny smile as he throws a towel over his shoulders. Tendou is wrong. Ushijima doesn’t think he has a crush.
He thinks he is in love.
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brutallygod · 2 months
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minors don't interact !
cw: female!reader, size difference, belly bulge.
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size difference, size difference, size difference!! imagine!!
“it won’t fit!” you sob out loud, hair clinging to your sweaty face as you roll your hips. your walls flutter around the thick cock in you, trying to suck him in but failing. he's bigger than you and your pretty cunt always struggles to take all of him. but you're determined today, telling him you wanted to fit everything in you.
he trails his fingers up and down your side before one hand snakes down to thumb at your clit while the other large hand clasps your hip. "i'll make it fit," he promises, soft as he pleasures you. he rubs your clit, making you wetter for a smoother entry. you’re whimpering as you slowly sink down, taking more and more of his cock. a mix of pleasure and pain courses through your veins and you gasp out as soon as you manage to take every inch of him.
"there you go, good girl," he praises, kissing your temple as he moves the hand on your hips to rest on your lower stomach, where an imprint of his cock shows under your skin. his fingers still rubs your clit. "look at how deep my cock is, spreading your cunt open and making you mine."
reiner braun, ushijima wakatoshi, jing yuan, + your fav!
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hanaonesflower · 1 year
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“Princess, can I ask you something?” He speaks, breaking the silence of the long, uneventful car ride. “Sure, anything!” You chirp, unsuspecting of what is to come.
“Why don’t you ever let me do anything for you?” Ushijima says, his eyes remain fixated on the long stretch of roads ahead. The fog heavily roll down the sides the hills on your either sides, lowering visibility. His hand tightens around the wheel, while the other grips yours.
“What do you mean by that?” You sit back, eyes wandering his features, looking for any sign that he’s just cheerfully asking you. Knowing Ushi though, he’s sometimes not as light hearted as you’d think.
“You are always so insistent on doing everything yourself. You won’t let me help you, like earlier, when you refused to let me tie your shoes. That isn’t the first time you refused my help.” He goes on a spiel, his thumb reaches to the toggle and lowers the volume, making his breathing more prominent than ever. It has occur to you that you have always been doing everything by yourself despite his looming figure always by your side. The hyperindependence is slowly starting to bother him. He wants to help you, wants to give you the fullest extent of a princess treatment yet the only thing really holding him back from that is, you.
“It’s just something that I could easily have done for myself, you didn’t need to bother with that, don’t worry, baby,” you try to comfort him, hoping some words of affirmation can help. It really isn’t a big deal, it’s some shoe laces that came undone, not a heavy errand.
As soon as the car is pulled into a parking spot at a rest stop, quickly shifting the car in “park”, turning to you and he sighs. A real sigh. One so full of frustration and… hopelessness. “I’m not bothered. It has never mattered how big or small anything is, I want to do everything for you. Why are you holding yourself back from me?” He is starting to put things into perspective for you. After going through a useless ex-boyfriend, then a man who gave you hot and cold attention, lastly a guy who gave you princess treatment to fill his inflated ego before meeting Ushijima, learning to only rely on yourself has been the protector of your heart, your soul and your sanity. You find that by depending on your good ol’ self is the only way to prevent yourself from throwing your body off a bridge.
“Ushi, it’s not—,” before you can finish your sentence, truthfully you don’t really know what to say. He’s right, you are holding yourself back from him. Holding yourself back from the hurt that you’ve known all too well, he interrupts, holding both your hands in his, “baby, you’re my priority, my everything, your well-being, happiness and comfort are my main concerns and I want it to be that way,” he stops, taking a breath. Reminiscent of the times where Ushijima offered to go so out of his way to help you but being kindly turned down has left him feeling absolutely useless and uneasy. Ushijima’s love language is act of service and because he hasn’t been able to do the bare minimum for you, he feels it eating him alive.
“I am aware of your past, I know that I can’t change what was, but I’m here to make a difference now, I mean it!” You are moved by his words, he means what he says and you know it. You’ve seen it. He’s a big man of his words, always keeping promises, has never ever disappointed you in any way. Yet the walls have been reinforced many times again that it has cemented itself in your life, creating a barrier between the two of you. “I want to open doors for you, pull out chairs for you, pick you up from a friend’s house, drop you off at the airport, all of that, please, baby, please just let me.” You have to say, it is like he is begging for you to allow him in, allow him to integrate further into your system, a system you’ve built to keep you from going down a slippery slope time and time again.
“I’m so grateful for you, Ushi, you’ve done so much for me, you really have. I just feel like I can’t be asking for anymore than what you’ve already given me,” before you can inhale a full breath, he branches his body over to your side of the car and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you melt. “I’m at your disposal, you are my world, let me in, don’t keep shutting me out,” he says, breaking away from the kiss.
You chuckle, “yes, Wakatoshi, I accept your offer,” and you’ve never seen him smile wider. A big, toothy grin coming from the infamously stoic dude. He kisses you again, “thank you, baby.”
He unbuckles your seatbelt, hastily running from his side to yours and opening the door for you, and just like the universe is rooting for the both of you, your shoe laces come undone, again.
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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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ushiwhacka · 1 year
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time skip! ushijima wakatoshi + fem! reader | mdni | 580 words | established relationship, pussy eating, rough sex, creampie, size kink, aftercare, it's just smut <3
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wakatoshi is not usually a vocal lover. he will pant against your ear, hot breath tickling your skin. or grunt, deep and guttural as he slides himself inside of you. breathing heavily, there’s something primal about the way he folds you in half, knees pressed to your chest. eyes dark and heavy with lust but always fixated on you. watching as you arch your back, the sweetest moans leaving your swollen lips. wordlessly attends to your every need, his large hands twisting your body, shaping it around his own until you can feel him on every atom of your skin.
but when he does speak it’s devastating, earth-shattering, it makes your brain foggy with the need to be claimed by him. to be held so close that his scent becomes your scent, to be unable to think of anything else but how good it feels to wrap yourself around him. 
it comes when you’re laying on your bed, feet propped on his shoulders as he spreads your legs apart. massaging the back of your thighs as he slowly drags his lips down towards your pussy. already slick and aching in anticipation. then he lifts his head to look into your eyes as if he’s trying to make sure you hear him. “you’re dripping all over the sheets,” he chokes out, voice hoarse and deeper than usual. olive eyes heavy as he takes in the state of your cunt, puffy and swollen, a bead of slick drooling out of your clenching hole. you gasp as he pushes his tongue against your opening, not letting a single drop go to waste. drunk on the taste of you, his arms close around your thighs, tight enough to bruise. drunk on the soft moans and high-pitched whines that pour out of your lips, the nails clawing into his forearms. so pretty and spread out for him, his to devour.
he’s lost to the feeling of your walls squeezing around him, so snug as he bullies his cock inside your cunt. too big and too thick and throbbing. the fleshy tip pressed against your cervix. pleasure so intense it sends the blood rushing to your head. his powerful body pressing down on you, fucking you into the mattress. drops of sweat rolling down corded muscles, his damp hair tickling your cheeks, the almost suffocating heat of him on top of you, it’s all so carnal. clinging to each other, wanting more and more and more. he’s spent and panting, hips stuttering as he thrusts into you. “can i cum in you?” lips grazing your forehead, desperate pleas followed by desperate thrusts, trying to go deeper. “please, love, i need to cum inside you.” a broken up yes and he buries himself in you to the hilt. your pretty pussy clamping down, milking his cock for every last spurt of thick cum, until you’re full to the very brim. and now he’s the one whining and too sensitive and shuddering above you. 
he holds you in his arms, thick fingers rubbing smoothing circles into your soft flesh, little unspoken apologies for being too rough and too intense. leaves tender, chaste kisses on your temple and your cheeks and on the curve of your jaw. “you know,” you are entirely unprepared for the sentence that follows, “you look so pretty when you cum on my cock.” and it takes every little bit of self control you possess to not straddle him and ride him until he cries.
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thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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natriae · 5 months
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ushijima definitely enjoys having his girl speak for him. It doesn't make him uncomfortable or angry, if anything he quite enjoys how you know exactly what he's thinking.
"Ushijima do you understand?"
"yes, he does. He's not stupid," you say firmly. Easily taking notice of how his hand holds yours under the table.
Or when he was sick...
"Wakatoshi's not feeling well" you say over the phone.
"did he tell you that?" a voice rings out over the line. Most likely his coach.
"No, but i know," you say pouting, putting you hand over his forehead feeling the growing fever, "He will rest today, goodbye" He also loved how you never gave people the chance to question you. The ring in his gym bag will definitely have a new home soon.
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ilylovelyz · 9 months
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⍣ ೋ Honeymoon
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˚ · . ushijima x afab!reader
: ̗̀➛ timeskip!ushijima, manly!ushijima, god hes such a man, big dick moment 3., pregnancy, pregnant sex, "traditional" lifestyle, creampie, reader has mommy boobs, reader is a lil chubby, lactation, soft sex, size kink, slight manhandling, secret relationship, was listening to lana del rey's honeymoon
we both know that it's not fashionable to love me but you don't go 'cause truly there's nobody for you but me.
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bright cameras flash amongst the dense crowd as ushijima is guided along with his teammates, surrounded by a dozen security. many shout and yell out questions directed towards the tall men, yet remain unanswered as they continue their way towards the stadium.
it's after the volleyball match when ushijima is approached by a female reporter, insistent with her microphone as she pesters him with the same questions he's been asked for a long time. "was that your wife you were with back in kyoto?"
he only wipes the sweat off his brow with his handkerchief before he's walking away from her, leaving her unanswered.
albeit, not truly knowing to what extent, ushijima does know that he's considerably favorable towards his fans for a specific reason. unfazed by the lingering eyes of the crowds of lusting women that waited outside the stadium specifically for him, he continues his way towards his car.
the strange favoritism seems to not be limited to only his fans, but also to some other professional volleyball players as well. he remembers the few scandals he's been in due to some delusional professional volleyball players claiming they "felt a spark," or whatever nonsense along those lines after speaking to him only a handful of times.
he ignores the catcalls and whistles from the women, all trying to get his attention through sultry gestures and inappropriate language. to a normal man, he would certainly be stoked by all of these gorgeous women wanting his attention, maybe perhaps give in to their desires.
however, as ushijima settles into the comfort of his car, driver greeting him, he thinks deeply. but he's not a normal man, and he does knows that. he searches throughout his gym bag with care, not particularly rushing to find the object he's searching for.
he knows he's much different from a normal man. he's of great skill, body athletic and big. it doesn't take much to notice the way his biceps bulge, or the way he his strong thighs flex and buckle, somehow supporting his heavy weight. he goes to the gym every day, training intensely for hours at a time. he goes to great lengths to meal plan and eat healthy foods to support his exhausting training and schedule. hell, he's a well known professional volleyball player.
he doesn't get the obsession though. he doesn't understand what does particularly make him stand out compared to his teammates. he's just like any other good volleyball player. maybe better, but he still would like to be viewed just as equal as to his teammates.
his eyes glint up at the object he's been searching for. he pulls it out, careful not to drop it due to the slight tremble of the car. if he dropped it, then it might as well be the end of the world. he'd probably not see it again, lost to the monstrosity of this luxurious car.
he gently pushes the accessory onto his ring finger. black and silver, lined with tiny diamonds, a marital ring. he thinks back to the time he had a discussion with his wife, a little while before the wedding and coincidentally searching for wedding rings, he had asked out of curiosity why do these random women obsess over a total stranger?
it takes awhile, but he's eventually driven to his home. quite large, a traditional minka, for a traditional guy like ushijima. he steps out of the black car, a mercedes, the grovel crunch pleasingly under his feet. his ears perk up at the little laughs coming from the garden at the side of the minka. he's bowing to his driver before heading off towards the joyful laughter, eyes softening at the eyes of his wife.
you're running around the garden, seemingly playing a game of tag with your only-daughter toddler, and currently, only child. he watches from the edge of the garden, softly smiling at this beautiful moment of what is the love of his life playing with what is the product of his love.
although wanting the wonderful moment to last a little longer, he decides to interrupt when he notices you're not wearing shoes. "y/n, where are your shoes?" you almost freeze in your steps, clumsily almost slipping on the puddles of water. you turn your head towards the familiar voice, cheeks warming up out of innocent embarrassment.
"a-ah, i didn't notice you coming home 'toshi." you squeak out, taking a moment to notice the way your apron is stained with various liquids, feet covered with what you can only guess is mud, grass, and groundwater. your attention is shifted when your young daughter yells out of excitement at her father's presence.
"papa!" she yells, small bare feet patting against the hard concrete as she runs up to her father. he can only watch her from above as she hugs his leg, small hands only reaching so far up to his hips. he watches dotingly over his daughter, not resisting to swoop her up in his arms, placing a soft kiss onto her soft baby skinned cheek.
he carries her with one arm as he walks over to you, eyebrow slightly arched with concern as he takes in your current figure. "ah.. kaiya snuck out to play in the garden five minutes before you arrived. i had to chase her down to stop her from eating the berries, sorry 'toshi." you meekly say, hand coming up to caress the back of your neck.
he leans down to place his daughter onto the engawa, "go wipe your feet off kaiya," he says, watching the way his daughter listens begrudgingly, knowing better than to disobey her father. she might not get dessert if she doesn't listen. he then turns to you, staring at you closely.
you're much smaller than him, barely reaching his shoulder when barefooted. his eyes are low, mouth pursed into a line. "you shouldn't go without your shoes, you'll get sick," he says monotonously. to anyone who didn't know him, he might just sound cold and maybe even annoyed, but to you, someone who's known him for over a decade, you know he's speaking purely from the heart.
smiling at his adorable concern, you straighten your back to showcase your good health. "i'm okay. don't you worry." he blinks at your pride before turning slightly towards the house, a hand of his reaching for yours. you take him up on his offer, lightly blushing at his sweet warmth that is his hand.
ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-
ushijima is careful with his steps as he walks through the halls of house, not wanting to wake up his young daughter. much like her father, she's a light sleeper. he walks into the kitchen, where he is not surprised to see you cleaning up after dinner.
you squeal once again when you turn around to see him with the remaining plates in his hands. he's so quiet, almost like a ghost. "you scared me." you say, hand coming to press against your suddenly rapid beating heart. "you don't need to be doing the chores, why don't you rest?" he offers, placing the stacks of dishes into the sink. he'll wash the dishes tomorrow morning before going to the gym.
you sigh at his words, hand coming up to his forearm as he steps closer to you, looking down at you with those beautiful green orbs of his. his hands come up to the tie of your apron, quick to untie it and set it onto the counter. he places his palms onto the sides of your belly, finding comforting in what is your very pronounced baby bump.
you smile at the soft moment, ushijima, although still slightly struggling to put into words how much he loves you, he will never fail to show you through physical affection. his touch is gentle, almost as if he's scared, almost hesitant to cradle your bump with his burly hands. he's so gentle, it makes you giggle.
he raises a confused at your strange giggle, before asking turning his attention back to your unborn baby. "have you thought of a name for her yet?" he asks, fingers prodding and poking curiously at your cotton clad bump. "her? you want it to be a girl? another one?" you grin, lightly slapping his shoulder.
you're just at your 6th month mark, the special appointment just a week away. while you were at your 6th month, you did look more heavily pregnant than that. it wasn't unexpected after all, ushijima was a big guy who made big babies. all jokes aside, if you're going to be honest, before your first child, you never really thought ushijima was much of a family-oriented person.
while you did know he was somewhat traditional, you never knew it was to this extent. the moment he earned enough income, he had bought a house solely with his money, and urged you to quit your job, even though you didn't even have a child with him at the time. the two of you were freshly married, and yet he still wanted to you stay at home. "i just want my wife to be happy and comfortable at home."
and if you're going to be even more honest, it's like his love for you had doubled since then. even seemingly, if it's even possible, tripling with the birth of your first daughter. lavish nonstop gifts and flowers constantly showing up at your door while he's away, sweet little cards with written "i love you"s.
just how long ago was it when he was still a young lad, still wearing his school uniform and still deciding on his future? it flusters you a little, the way he's such a man now. his hand moves down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.
he dotes in the way you meekly avoid eye contact with him, even after all these years, after the countless of love making the two of you had, you still blush even when holding his hand. "y/n," he calls, free hand coming up to your chin to make you look at him. he revels in the light blush on your cheeks before he's leaning down to kiss you.
the kiss is soft and tender, his lips taking the lead and pushing against yours. his grip on your waist prevents you from pulling away, effectively trapping you in, it makes you wonder if he knows how strong his grip on you is. you swallow back the nervous lump in your throat when he's suddenly pushing towards you more, angling his face to get impossibly closer.
it's not long before the kiss was leaving you breathless and causing you to tremble on your swollen ankles. noticing, ushijima effortlessly picked you up, carrying you bridal style to the master bedroom.
he's everything but unfocused, eyes watching intently as he caressed your body. he undressed you, careful and slowly like the first time. and still like the first time, his pupils dilated at the sight of your bare skin and curves. he was quick to attach his lips to your neck, suckling at your collarbone and every soft spot he could think of, leaving angry red marks wherever he could latch onto.
laying you down onto your back, he threw aside your bra, his hands massaging your plush and heavy mounds. "they've gotten bigger.." he said to himself, noticing the way your breasts nearly spill out of his considerably large hands. his cock twitches in his pants when a spill of milk leaks out of your swollen bud.
like nature, he takes your nipple into his mouth, eagerly sucking down the milk that trickles out. his other hand squeezes at your free breast before he's switching to said breast and repeating his actions onto the puffy bud. ushijima has always seemed to love your breasts, even when they were much smaller than what they are now.
he finally pulls away from them, pushing the mounds together, kneading them like a type of stress ball. he could play with your breasts all day, but unfortunately he doesn't seem to have the luxury for that.
you coo out his name, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure. he leans down to kiss you passionately, only pulling away when you tug at the hem of his t-shirt. he gives into your request, quickly discarding the t-shirt. you've seen his body many times before, yet you still cannot help the obsession you have with it.
ushijima notices the lustful look you have in your eyes, noting that it's similar to those of the strange women who surrounded him earlier. as your palm comes up to caress against his hard abs, trailing up and down his pecs and abdomen, he suddenly remembers what you told him during the early days of your relationship, when he asked you why you got so excited when he took his shirt off during a swim party.
"you're such a man, 'toshi.." you mewl when his finger pads come up to press against your clit. yes, thats it. because he's "manly." your hand grips at his bicep, squeezing the muscle as he slides a finger into your wet cunt. he grunts slightly as your walls contract around his finger, eventually adding a second.
he remembered being told that women eventually become loose after a while, but that was when he was young. now, that he's an experienced man, he knows how dumb that stupid belief is, most likely made up by some pitiful losers. he even has some evidence to back it up, as you're still so tight, even after all these years of taking his thick cock.
"'toshi.." you cry out, clawing at his arm when he adds in a third finger. he doesn't hesitate to find your sweet spot, abusing it ruthlessly, looking down at you with curious eyes as you writhe underneath him. with years of skill and dedication, he's making you cum far quicker than you expected. you arch your back, fingers gripping around his bicep as you clench your eyes shut, orgasm taking you by storm.
in the aftershock, your thighs are already trembling, tears falling from your eyes as you try to regain your breath. obviously, you know this is not the end of his pleasurable torture. his hand attaches at the back of your knee, pulling your left leg upwards towards your chest. he climbs closer to you, his right leg crosses over your right leg and tucking underneath your calf.
you look down as you begin to take deep breaths, seeing as ushijima's hand wraps around his cock so he can guide it towards your helpless cunt. the stretch has you closing your eyes shut, tears escaping as the burn shakes you to your core. "f-fuck.." you rasp out, only relaxing when ushijima places a comforting hand against yours.
he slowly rocks his hips into yours, grunting slightly in pleasure at the feel of your gummy walls around him. he pushes your knee back a little further, but theres only so much as it could go before it's stopped by your precious baby bump.
you're so beautiful, so pretty underneath him. he can't help the way his cheeks flush a little at the way you're sprawled out underneath him. face contorted in pleasure, your swollen breasts jiggle with every movement, belly round with his second child, you're everything he's ever wanted. you're everything he's only ever wanted to have.
he soon finds himself losing himself to you, hips desperately humping against you so hard it has you jolting against the futon. his hand comes up to cradle your tear scarred cheek, admiring your gentle features.
you feel yourself grow a little conscious at the way your body seems to jiggle a little more than usual. you remember the time you were too a little more toned and active, but with your first daughter you had gained a healthy amount of weight, as per ushijima, and the doctor's request.
you remember asking ushijima if you should get back into fitness to lose the gained weight, only to be surprised when he said a stern "no," faced contorted with distaste and bewilderment. later that same night, and even now, your fears were/are soothed at the way he pawed at the plush of your waist and thighs, finding comfort in the soft flesh.
"ah, wakatoshi 'm gunna cum." you moan out, but before you could even finish your sentence, ushijima is rolling his hips in a way that has nearly has you screaming in pleasure if not for the nearby pillow. he knows you like the back of his hand, almost studying your body in his younger days to find more ways to pleasure you more sufficiently.
"y/n-" he croaks out, doubling down and throwing himself against your body, hiding his face in the valley of your breasts as you clenched around him so tightly it caused his own orgasm. he stilled against you, cock sheathed entirely inside you, spilling his warm seed inside you as he held his own breath, cursing silently as you milked him so deliciously.
finally, he let go of the breath he was holding, his thighs slightly trembling as he held himself up as to not crush you. his cock, now limp, left the warm confirms of your core as he pulled away so he could lay down next to you. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, trying to pull you close to him until he was reminded of your baby bump.
you giggled at the way he fumbled to somehow get you flush against him, eventually getting comfortable into a position that had you on your still back while he was on his side, head resting against his neck while his arm laid over your chest.
"i love you." he whispered softly, nose inhaling deeply into the sweet scent of your hair as you slept. he listened quietly to the your soft snores, wanting to keep this moment locked, hidden away forever.
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kentobb · 4 months
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The Promise
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Character: Ushijima Wakatoshi x F!Reader
Warnings: Heavy angst, cursing, slight comfort on the end.
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It has been a rough month and Ushijima knows it. He has been overworking himself, pushing his limits at each practice. His typically calm and composed face is now etched with stress and strain. His temperament, once steady as a rock, is now volatile and erratic, akin to a stormy sea. The month had been grueling, a relentless onslaught of training sessions and personal workouts. His body is aching, his mind is strained, and his spirit is beginning to waver.
Today, he returns to his apartment later than usual, bone-tired, his muscles screaming in protest, only to be greeted by your sight, his sweet and loving girlfriend. Your smile always warm, eyes filled with concern, having dinner ready, a hot bath drawn, and comforting words falling from your lips.
He should feel guilty for his recent behavior, matter of fact he should apologize. He was not a man prone to emotional outbursts or thoughtless actions, and yet, he had allowed his stress to control him, to turn him into someone he hardly recognized these days.
He had ignored you, brushed off your attempts at conversations, and retreated into himself. He had been mean, cold, distant. He had forgotten your presence, forgotten the warmth you brought into his life, forgotten the love that had once made his heart flutter.
And tonight was no different, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders, his mind foggy and his spirit was weary. As he kicked off his shoes and hung his jacket on the hook, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafted through the apartment. He followed the scent into the kitchen, his eyes landing on the sight of you, sitting at the kitchen table, a spread of dishes laid out in front of you.
You looked up the entrance and your face lights up with a smile that reaches your eyes. A sight that used to warm his heart, a sight that used to make him forget about exhaustion, a sight that used to make him feel loved.
“‘Toshi, you’re home!” You smiled happily.
But today, he could only muster a tired sigh in response. He saw you on your feet in an instant, your chair scraping against the floor as you rushed towards him. Your arms wrapped around him in a tight hug, your warmth seeping into him. But he didn’t return the hug, didn’t wrap his arms around you, didn’t press a kiss to your forehead like he always does. He just stood there, his body rigid, his mind elsewhere.
You pulled away, you don’t know if it is out of embarrassment or…due to a sudden heartbreak due to the neglect you have been suffering, but your hands suddenly cup his face, eyes searching his for a sign of the man you loved. “Um, we should, well, you should go eat,” You urged, your voice soft and your touch gentle. But he shook his head, his voice coming out gruff as he muttered, “I’m tired.”
But you didn’t back down this time, didn’t let him retreat into himself like he has done all this month. You tugged at his hand, tried to lead him to the table with the dinner you worked very hard for, trying to make him eat. “Come on, Toshi, you been avoiding me this past month,” You insisted, your voice firm, your grip tight. “Just be here, yeah?” You smiled.
But he snapped. “For fuck sakes Y/N, I’m tired!” He barked, his voice louder that he intended, his tone harsher than he meant. He yanked his hand out of your grip, his eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “You have been nagging me all these past nights to have fucking dinner and you don’t understand that I am tired.” He yelled again.
The silence that followed was deafening, the tension in the room palpable. You took a step back, embarrassed that your boyfriend had to yelled at you like that, “Ah, sorry, I just thought—“ You were saying but were cut off immediately by his sharp words.
“Thought what? Thought what, Y/N?” He yelled in disbelief, “That you have been a pain in the ass for the past few days?” He asked as he raised his voice louder, tone meaner.
“I-I’m sorry,” You apologized, trying to mask your disappointment, “I have missed you…” You mumbled embarrassedly, trying to hide your flushed face from him.
“Missed me?” He yelled, “We live in the same fucking apartment and we see each other every night!” He yelled, his voice echoing in the quiet apartment.
“I- I know, I know, Toshi,” You said, trying to calm him down, “B-But we haven’t been able to talk, you haven’t kissed me or touched me…” You admit painfully as you looked at him with teary eyes.
“God, you’re so fucking clingy and needy,” He yells as he rolled his eyes out of frustration. “All of this mess because of that?” He chuckled, “I am tired for this crap right now.” He said.
The room fell silent, the tension hanging heavy in the air. He watched your face fall, your eyes reflecting the hurt his words had caused. And guilt washed over him like a tidal wave, his heart clenching at your sight.
You know he didn’t mean any single word of it, right? He was just tired, so incredibly tired. His days were filled with endless practices, his nights consumed by restless sleep. He was pushing himself to the brink, his body and mind paying the price.
He didn’t mean it.
“Sorry,” You mumbled, “I will clean the mess,” You said as you hid your face away from his, walking towards the kitchen again.
His mind raced, guilt and regret swirling within him. He wanted to apologize, to explain, to make you understand that fuck, he didn’t mean any of it. But the words wouldn’t come, his throat tight with emotion. He was trapped in his own guilt, his own exhaustion, his own regret. And he didn’t know how to escape.
He watched from the doorway as you busied yourself in the kitchen, cleaning up the dinner he had refused to eat. His heart clenching at the sight, guilt gnawing at his insides. He had been harsh, mean even, and he regretted it.
Your movements were mechanical, your usual cheerfulness replaced with a somber silence. He watched as you wiped the table clean, packed the uneaten food, and washed the dishes. Your shoulders are tense, lips pressed into a thin line.
And he noticed, noticed how you tried to compose yourself, how you tried to hold back the tears. But despite your efforts, a few escaped, trailing down your cheeks and disappearing into the collar of your shirt. Each tear was a stab to his heart, a painful reminder of the hurt he had caused.
Once you were done, you turned off the lights, plunging the kitchen into the darkness. The only sound was the sound of the soft padding of your feet as you made your way to the bedroom, where he was waiting.
Both of you sat on opposite sides of the bed, an uncomfortable silence hanging between both of you. He watched as you changed into your sleeping clothes, your movements slow and deliberate. You climbed into bed, your back to him, body curling up on your side.
He was at a loss. He didn’t knew what to do, didn’t know what to say. He was worried, his mind filled with the thoughts of you, of the hurt he had caused. He knew you had taken his words to heart, knew that you were hurting. And it was all of his fault.
In the dimly lit room, his silhouette was barely visible as he climbed into bed next to you. The only sound that broke silence was your soft, muffled sobs. His heart clenched at the sound. He reached out tentatively, his hands finding their way around your waist. He drew you close, his chest against your back, both of your hearts beating in a rhythm that was painfully off sync.
He leaned in, pressing his lips against your swollen and teary face, tasting the saltiness of your tears. “I’m sorry,” He whispered into your hair, his voice barely audible. His words hung heavy in the air, a confession and a plea all at once.
You remained silent, sobs subsiding into quiet sniffles. And he could feel your body stiffen at his words. It was an unspoken tension that made his heart race with worry. He wanted to say more, you deserved way more, to explain, to ask for forgiveness, but the words stuck in his throat.
“Talk to me, love.” He implored, his voice barely a whisper. His fingers tracing circles on your waist, a silent plea for you to respond.
But you don’t. Your silence was deafening wrapping you both in a shroud of uncertainty. And he held you tighter, his mind racing with thoughts and fears. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, and that scared him.
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The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. He stirred, his eyes fluttering open to a new day. His body felt heavy, his heart even more so. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind like a haunting melody.
He found you in the kitchen, a solitary figure bathed in the morning light. You were cradling a cup of coffee, your gaze fixed in the steaming liquid. Your face was pale, eyes rimmed with red. The sight of you, so vulnerable and distant, twisted his heart.
“Good morning,” he tried, he really did, his voice echoing in the silence. But you didn’t respond, didn’t even lift your gaze to meet his. It was as if he was a ghost, unseen, unheard. He felt a pang of guilt, a sharp reminder of his words last night.
“For fuck sakes Y/N.”
“You have been nagging me all these past nights to have fucking dinner and you don’t understand that I am tired.”
“God, you’re so fucking clingy and needy.”
His mind was whirlwind of thoughts. He had hoped that giving you space would help, that it would give you time to heal, time to warm up to him like you always do. But as the day dragged on, the silence between both of you grew. His phone remained silent, devoid of your usual messages.
No updates about your day, no reminders about dinner, nothing.
It was a silence that spoke volumes, and it terrified him.
Who would have thought? Ushijima Wakatoshi, the man who faced countless opponents on the court, was scared. He was scared that his actions had created a chasm between you, a distance he didn’t knew how to bridge.
As he returned from practice on the night, the apartment was dark. The usually welcoming lights were all turned off, a stark reminder of the cold silence that awaited him. He knew you would be in bed, probably feigning sleep. There would be no warm welcome, no home-cooked meal, no soft smiles.
He lingered at the door, his hand hovering over the knob. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the silence that awaited him. As he stepped into the dark apartment, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of dread that clung to him. He was walking into a battlefield, and he didn’t know how to fight this war.
The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the noise of the world outside. He stepped in, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words. The sight of the shared room, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, was a painful reminder of the happier times.
There you were, a small figure curled up on the bed, your back to him just like last night. Your eyes were open, staring blankly at the window. The sadness in your gaze was palpable, a silent cry for help that tore at his heart.
He took off his shoes, placing his gym bag in the kitchen before making his way towards you. He tried to speak, to break the silence that hung between both of you.
“How are you?” He asked softly, but his words fell on deaf ears. You didn’t respond, didn’t even acknowledge his presence.
Undeterred, he climbed onto the bed, his large frame curling around your smaller one. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, making you face him. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, each kiss a silent promise to make things right.
And then he hears it, he hears you crying. Tears falling like rain, burying your face on his chest and soaking his shirt. Your sobs were heart-wrenching, a testament to the pain he had caused.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He held you tightly, as if his touch could somehow ease the pain he had caused. His apologies were a soft murmur against your hair, a desperate plea for forgiveness.
He gently lifted your face, fingers tracing the contours of your features. His lips found yours in a tender kiss, a silent vow of his love for you. He kissed away your salty tears, each one a testament to her pain, each one a reminder of his mistakes.
“I love you,” He whispered, his voice barely audible. His words were soft, filled with emotion so raw yet so powerful that it took his breath away. He repeated the words over and over, a mantra of love and regret.
Slowly, your sobs subsided. Your breathing evened out, your body relaxing against his. Falling asleep in his arms, your tear-streaked face buried in his chest. He watched you sleep, his heart aching with relief and regret.
He ran his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. His eyes welled up with tears, the guilt and regret overwhelming him. He kisses your forehead, a silent promise etched into your skin.
“This is the last time,” He vowed to himself, his voice chocked with emotion. “This is the last time I’ll make you cry,” He promised.
He held you close, his arms a protective shield around you.
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Reblogs, notes and comments are appreciated <3
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moechies · 8 days
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wakatoshi ʚɞ
“y’feel so good honey.”
your cunt sinks onto his meaty tip, pulsing erratically at the unfamiliar stretch.
“hah—.. h-help me, please!”
“take your time, you can do it.”
you try, you really do, shoving yourself onto your lovers cock. he holds you tightly but the fat of your hips, gently guiding your cunt to wrap more and more of him.
“eek— w-waka!”
he sighs, face flushed and eyes shut tight from the pleasure. he lays back into the soft of the bed, peeking out of one eye to watch your flustered expression and your body shiver with pleasure.
“please , n-need your help. i can’t do it m’self..” you mewl, body giving up and landing atop of his, sniffles muffled as you hide yourself into the crook of his neck.
“poor baby.” he teases, soothing over your hair with one hand, the other soothing across your shivering ass. “too much for my honey?”
you nod, bracing yourself as he flips you under him, forced to meet his eyes as he hovers above you.
“y’were almost there,” he stares down at the remainder of his cock you were unable to get inside your cunt, sloppy swipes over your clit in order to quiet his baby’s complaints. “y’gonna do better next time? so i don’t have to do all the work, hm ?”
“y-yes..! t-thank you waka, thank you f’helping me!”
he groans; what sweet pleasure it was to feel your plump ass meet his pelvis.
“no need. thank you f’this perfect pussy honey.”
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piichuu · 7 months
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♡ SLEEPING ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT
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FEATURING: sugawara koushi, kageyama tobio, ushijima wakatoshi
WARNINGS: hurt/comfort (ish), fluff, gn!reader
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SUGAWARA KOUSHI
“let’s not fight anymore, the couch must be uncomfortable for you to sleep on,” your boyfriend speaks as his hand is gently put on your shoulder. he has been sitting on the floor, right by the couch for a couple of minutes now, but this is the first time he speaks up. you should’ve known that he wouldn’t let you go to sleep in such an uncomfortable place, especially not after a fight. “we don’t have to talk about it right now, i just want you to come to bed so you’ll have a good nights sleep. if you don’t want to cuddle, we don’t have to, just don’t sleep out here.”
sugawara begins to brush his fingers through your tangled hair and sighs, waiting for you to reply or move. it takes a little bit, but you eventually begin to sit up, now looking down at the man who is still sitting on the floor, wearing the pajamas he put on hours ago. “there you are. come on, let’s head to bed,” he reaches his hand out for you to take which you do, allowing him to lead you into the bedroom where the two of you lie down without you saying a word to one another.
he watches as you get under the covers and once again turn your back to him, so he strokes your arm gently. “i’m sorry for earlier, sweetheart. it’s been a long week for the both of us and we aren’t in our right minds. just know that i’m not mad at you for anything, it may have seemed like it earlier, but i promise you that it was stress that has been built up by my co-workers, not you,” sugawara explains as he eventually moves his hand away from you so you’ll get the space you need.
as you don’t say anything, he closes his eyes and attempts to fall asleep. the two of you usually never go to sleep without solving a fight, but he won’t force you to try and talk to him either, knowing that it might just cause the frustration to grow. so he tries his best, hoping he’ll wake up in the morning and be able to talk to you, but he can’t sleep like this, not knowing whether you’re mad at him or not. those thoughts are however put to sleep as you finally wrap your arms around his middle and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. “i’m sorry, i don’t want to fight.”
a slight smile spreads over his lips and he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “we’re good, baby. let’s just go to sleep together now. i love you.”
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KAGEYAMA TOBIO
he sighs when he finds you already sleeping on the couch, not having spoken to him since he went to take a shower in hopes to rid of all the frustration and stress that’s been taking over for the last couple of days. volleyball practices have become more as him and his team are about to go into a tournament in just two days, so the stress has truly gotten to him, but also to you. he’s aware of the fact that you’re stressed about not being able to come with him for his upcoming games due to school work, so you try to spend as much time with him as possible, but it’s difficult when he’s barely home.
kageyama wants to be with you more than anything in the entire world, but the time often flies away when he’s practicing and the time for you decreases into only a few hours at night when you’re already asleep. when you wake up in the morning, he’s either making a quick breakfast for himself and gives you a kiss goodbye before leaving or he’s already left without a word. he’s never able to wake up beside you nor come home when you aren’t asleep.
today he was tired after hours of practicing and even though he had been looking forward to seeing you as he would finally get home a little earlier, he didn’t expect himself to be met by you with tears in your eyes as you begged for him to stay home the next day so the two of you could spend time together before he had to leave. it wasn’t possible, not now when it’s only a few days left until the tournament, his coach would kill him.
so here he is, standing by the couch, contemplating every single life choice he’s made. what did he even do to deserve someone who keeps trying when he is barely ever there? how come you stay when you never get to talk to him? he certainly doesn’t know, but something he does know is of his love for you. “i’m sorry,” he whispers while laying down behind you on the couch. his arms wrap around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. “i’m gonna come up with something to spend time with you before i leave, i swear. i love you so much, so so much. i wish i could be a with you all the time…”
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USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI
he sits on the edge of the couch, leaning back against the cushions while looking at you who’s already sleeping. you would be in bed if it wasn’t for him and his stubbornness. ushijima injured his arm during his last practice and had been told by doctors not to work out for at least a month, but how did you find him when you got home from work? carrying weights back to their place as if he had just been training. how could you not scold him when he was risking his own arm getting even worse?
at first, he wasn’t agreeing to anything you said as he kept on saying that it wasn’t a big deal and that “it doesn’t even hurt anymore”. but as you only became more furious about the fact that he wouldn’t listen and then went to sleep on the couch instead of in bed with him, he slowly but surely began to understand that he was in fact making his arm worse. you had the right to be worried, but ushijima had no right being so stubborn.
“i’m really sorry for not listening to you,” your boyfriend mumbles as he searches for your hand to hold, giving it a gentle squeeze. “i won’t work out again until the doctors tell me that it’s okay, i promise. it was stupid of me to not listen to either them or you,” he sighs and closes his eyes for a moment, drowning in his own stupidity until he can hear you stir.
“you always make me worry about you so much, you’re so stupid,” you mumble while sitting up, wrapping your arms around his neck. “next time i find you like that, i might actually commit a crime,” usuijima chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “i won’t do it again, i swear. i will listen to your worries from here on out.”
he eventually climbs onto the couch and wraps his arms around your waist. “i hope your arm doesn’t hurt too much now,” you mumble, stroking his hair. ushijima shakes his head and flashes you a soft smile. “it doesn’t, thankfully. thank you for looking out for me, darling.”
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dabiekql · 1 year
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HQ Ushijima - Members Meeting His Girlfriend (Fluff)
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If the members found out that Ushijima was in a relationship, they will initially think that he was joking, but at the same time they knew he wasn't the type to joke around, so they were like, "HOW?!" They didn't even think he was capable of liking someone. All he cared about was volleyball, but apparently that wasn't the case.
So when they finally got to meet his girlfriend, the first thing they asked was, "You don't happened to be threatened by him, right?" The members knew Ushijima wasn't really the type to threaten, but they knew others could mistaken his words that way that they couldn't help but ask.
"No, of course not. Why do you say so?" Y/n asked confused while Ushijima had a confused face as well. "Why would I do that?"
"N-Nothing..." The members just shook their head as they tried to process everything.
Once they processed everything, the members were determined to help Ushijima out with his relationship since they didn't trust him when it comes to relationship. They wanted to make sure that there was no misunderstanding between Ushijima and y/n. But they will soon see how pink the air between them is.
Ushijima was so gentle with her and just looking at his eyes, there was no way y/n will think Ushijima doesn't love her anymore. They saw them holding their hands tightly as they walked around and Ushijima gently pulling her inward to avoid bumping into others. They even saw him smiling time to time as he listened to her. This side of Ushijima caused the members to rub their eyes in belief. "Are we seeing this right?"
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teamatsumu · 4 months
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At any given moment, i am thinking about Apex Alpha!Ushijima.
Not just alpha. But apex Alpha.
It’s pretty clear even from a distance that Ushijima is like no other alpha around him. Taller than any of his fellows, undoubtedly broader, he takes up space in a way the others fail to. His face is set in a perpetual blank look. Something in his expression screams ‘watch out’.
He also has an excruciating presence. When he enters a room, the scent of every other alpha pales in comparison. Even before he presented, Ushijima had an aura about him, so no one was surprised when he presented not only as an alpha, but an apex.
Shiratorizawa is proud to have an Apex in their ranks, considering how rare a breed they are. Ushijima is a star pupil, a star athlete. Shiratorizawa’s golden boy. The alphas revere him. They can’t even bring themselves to have a jealous streak when it comes to him. All that exists is envy. And the knowledge that they can never be him.
And the omegas. Oh lord. The omegas throw themselves at his feet. Often figuratively, and sometimes even literally. An apex alpha would be the ideal mate. The very pinnacle of the food chain. Any omega who he ended up with Ushijima would be the luckiest little thing on the planet. What a rare luck it would be, bagging an apex alpha as your mate?
Imagine how the school reels in surprise when Ushijima sets his sights on you.
You are, by no means, special. You are not a prime omega. Your scent, while undoubtedly omega, is light. It is not an omega scent that reels alphas in with how rich it is. Your stature isn’t particularly impressive for an omega either, though it isn’t bad. There is no way to describe it. You are just….. ordinary.
So you are confused as all hell when the king of alphas, an apex, presents you with a delicate bracelet one day. He had always been friendly with you, and you assumed it was just him being kind to the students of Shiratorizawa as part of his makeshift pack. But this, a thin, shiny chain with a single heart-shaped charm, made his intentions clear. This was a courting gift, there was no two ways about it.
You saw the apex alpha smile for the first time when you accepted his gift. And it solidified the fact that you accepted his advances.
Being courted by an apex alpha was also an interesting experience. Different to other alphas. His gifts were extremely personalised, stuff that he knew you needed or would be very useful. He was a man of few words, but his actions were glaring, they seemed to scream his intentions at you loud and clear. His aura and scent were so strong that there wasn’t even any need for him to scent you or your things. Five minutes in his presence meant that everyone would know where you had been for hours afterward. Despite being so physically huge, his touch was gentle and comforting. And slowly, you grew so attached to him that it hurt to be without.
Overtime, you realised that a lot of what ushijima did was not his status but rather just him. He was naturally so firm yet gentle. His gifts being so practical was just how his mind worked. Being a good person and a good leader was not because he was an apex, but because he was….. Ushijima Wakatoshi.
It was so easy to love him. And to choose him as your mate. He was truly the ideal. And every second of every day you were grateful that he had chosen you, for whatever reason, to be his omega.
Just the thought of Apex Alpha!Ushijima is so near and dear to me. If anyone can be an Apex, it’s him.
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romeavecryst · 16 days
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.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.
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˖ ࣪⊹ He’s the kind of guy to help put and take off your shoes, even if your not drunk, but if your getting ready his large hand wrapping around your ankle as he slips your shoe on next tying the laces or strapping the heels your wearing “Hmm there you go love can’t have you bending over to put them on no?” His voice deep and tender kissing your lips gently.
Ushijima, IWAIZUMI, Daichi, Kuroo, TSUKISHIMA, BOKUTO, TANAKA, Kageyama,
Little reminder rq are open!(im desperate ☹️)
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angelltheninth · 1 month
Note
How about the HQ Team captains getting injured and their girlfriend helping them heal/stay in bed?
There are quite a few captains but I guess I'll just include my faves.
Pairing: Daichi Sawamura, Tetsuro Kuroo, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Kotaro Bokuto, Toru Oikawa x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, injury recovery, slight angst, kissing, teasing, being stubborn, changing clothes, reassurance
A/N: Guess we're starting the day with angst and injury.
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Daichi is very understanding that he has to take a break for his leg to get better. As long as he gets rest it should be fine, it's just annoying to have to call you every time he needs to go somewhere cause it's hard to get around on his own. Really boring too, stuck at home all day, at least you visit every day and tell him what's been going on.
Kuroo wants to go and play despite his hand being broken. Argues very strongly that he can always use the other one. He can't even eat with his injured hand, let alone attend practice, or worse games with his team. Stubborn he insists that he's fine but has to bite back a groan of pain when you so much as kiss his hand.
Wakatoshi doesn't say anything about his ankle hurting until the game is won. For which he gets a lot of scolding for you and you spend some time at his place to make sure he's not walking around too much. Or at all really, he won't say it hurts even if it does so you poke him to remind him that yes, his ankle is indeed hurting.
Bakuto complains a bit too much for the level of leg injury he has, he just overdid it on his leg muscles a little and will be fine after a few days. Bold of you to assume he won't milk this situation for all it's worth, constantly keeping you by his side and telling you only your kisses can make him feel better. Which means he'll be fine.
Toru almost pouts when he realizes he's cracked a rib and has to stay home. Flirts with you when you tell him that you'll be helping him get dressed, he'd rather you help him get undressed. Despite his complaints and trying to brush things off he is very grateful to have such a caring girlfriend.
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honeybleed · 25 days
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— ★ CAPTAINS AS WORK HUSBANDS
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content & warnings: fem!reader, post time skip, changed daichi to a firefighter because fuck the police (idea courtesy of deja 😁), kind of suggestive in oikawa & kuroo’s ones, fluff & crack
featuring: various captains (that i’m more familiar with): daichi sawamura, tetsurō kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima & toru oikawa
author’s note: my first written thingie for haikyuu, i’m so nervous i made them ooc ;-; ik i’m late but i really went from supporting my kuroo harem mooties from the sidelines to joining. divider credit to @/xxbimbobunnyxx
daichi sawamura:
Working with Daichi Sawamura was comparable to smooth sailing.
Usually, your colleagues, seniors and juniors could come to the agreement you were exhausting to work with considering your tendencies to play by the book.
No exceptions.
Regardless, the past few weeks of organizing assemblies for schools around the prefecture regarding fire safety with Daichi had been…pleasant?
It was going to be the last assembly and this time it was for the fifth and sixth graders, you and Daichi were sitting in your office tidying up the paperwork.
“It’s late…how are you getting home?” He questioned.
“Oh…the trains are still running. I’m saving up for a car.” You said with an uneasy laugh, a little embarrassed.
“Nonsense, I can drop you home.” Daichi smiled.
“No, no Daichi. I don’t want you to go through all that trouble, thank you for the offer.” You said sheepishly, overwhelmed by the kind offer.
“I wouldn’t feel right about a woman going home this late at night. It’s no trouble for me, at all.”
A sliver of mischief overtook you.
“What? You think cos I’m a woman I’m too fragile to go home by myself?”
Daichi gave you a vacant look before panic set into his system.
“What?! No, no! I don’t think that women are very- No, YOU are more than capable-"
“Daichi, I was kidding.” You giggled. “Honestly, I think it’s sweet you have that chivalrous nature to you. Too many men on the trains give me the creeps anyway.”
He drove a modest car. It suited him. Reliable and not too flashy.
There was an air of melancholy as this would be the last time you’d work together.
As he killed the engine when you directed him to the parking lot of your apartment complex, he gave you a warm smile.
“I really enjoyed working with you.” He said.
“I could say the same..” You replied.
“Forgive me for getting ahead of myself…but I don’t want this to be the end.”
“Huh..?”
“I want to keep seeing you. Would…you like that?” He asked, voice cautious not to overstep.
But you nodded.
“I’d love to keep seeing you. I enjoy your company, Daichi.”
Two people in their late twenties, blushing wildly as their fingers brushed over the gearstick.
tetsurō kuroo:
“I can see you, you know.” You said in a wry tone, your fingers flying over the keyboard and your eyes fixated on the screen of the PC.
“And here I thought I was a stealth master.” Kuroo said in mock defeat as he stopped peeking from the doorway and headed towards your desk. “Alright, tell me. What gave it away?”
“It’s kinda hard to miss that rooster haircut of yours.” You responded. “Not to mention the fact you have to bend over not to bump into the doorframe.”
“Figures. I got some gossip for you.”
“Yeah?” You said as you raised a brow. “Don’t keep me on edge.”
“Seems like Takuya the tech guy has the hots for you.”
“…Me?”
“Don’t act all humble on us now. You know you’re the resident hottie.” He chuckled.
“Big achievement in a workplace where the average demographic in the administration office is middle-aged men. What do you want, Tetsu?” You sighed. “You only compliment me when you want something.”
“Well, I just came here to tell you I warded him off. No need to thank me.” He grinned as he folded his arms.
“And why would you do that?” You questioned, astounded by the absolute audacity.
He scoffed.
“Why wouldn’t I? The man has black under his nails and had to be called into HR because his B.O. was considered a bio-hazard.” Kuroo said, adamant in his decision.
“Okay, but it’s not your place.” You snickered, amused but still wanting to scold him a little.
Kuroo Tetsuro didn’t mind a little nagging if it came from you, anyway.
“Well, I’m sorry for having your best interest at heart.” He sulked as he eyed you making your way over to him.
Suddenly, his heart began to hammer as you yanked his tie down so his face was close to yours.
“For a team player, you sure don’t like to share, huh Tetsu? I know you want me all to yourself but try not to make it so obvious to the others.” You whispered, breath tickling the shell of his ear.
Heading out of the small office, Kuroo stood as if his feet were glued.
“Fuck, not now…” He groaned as he felt a strain down his slacks.
wakatoshi ushijima:
“Here.”
You looked up to see none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi, brandishing a small bottle in his hand.
As his physiotherapist for the last few months, it was easy to note his habits. For example, he always made sure to turn up to your appointments five minutes early. On the dot.
On the rare occasion he missed it (which had totalled up three times over six months) he’d make sure to email you the day before.
Even if he was ill, he knew his body. He knew a virus was on its way even without experiencing symptoms.
You tentatively took the small bottle from his grasp and gave him a grateful nod.
As you fixed your eyes on the label, almost as if he read your mind he spoke with that smooth voice of his.
“It’s kefir. Good for gut health.”
“Thank you, Wakatoshi.” You smiled. “That’s very sweet of you. Go ahead and take a seat and I’ll be right with you, okay?”
He nodded but one word threw him off.
…Sweet?
Ushijima felt the tips of his ears heat up. Nobody had called him sweet before. He instantly jerked when you set a hand on his lower back and ushered him indoors.
You were used to Ushijima’s strait-laced nature so you were taken aback at him being jumpy at physical touch.
He took a seat on the padded examination table.
It was always funny to see Ushijima’s hulking figure in your office, you smiled to yourself as you eyed him looking around aimlessly.
It was a little hard not to stare at those firm tan thighs of his.
You’d caught a few of his games where he usually dominated the court. His interactions with others were usually brunt and nothing too interesting.
“So, how's the pain been since our last session?”
“It still flares up during serves and spikes. But it’s manageable.” He replied earnestly.
“Do you mind if I examine that?” You asked.
He nodded and shed off his tracksuit top, a white vest underneath showing off his broad shoulders.
He may have agreed but he wasn’t prepared for those soft, manicured hands of yours to begin to knead and palm his right shoulder and back.
“…There seems to be the issue.” You stated as he jerked and hissed at a particular section of skin.
“Wakatoshi, I told you to ice that area. Have you been skipping out on doctor's orders…?” You teased as you tilted your head.
“You’re not my doctor.” He said bluntly.
“I’m the closest thing you got to one.” You chuckled, undeterred by his frigid tone. Quite frankly, it amused you.
“We'll probably need to focus on strengthening exercises. Can you dedicate time to that?”
“I’m sure.”
“Good. I want to see you at a hundred percent for that game that’s in two weeks."
“You’re coming to the next game?” Wakatoshi asked, a little taken aback. He knew your work schedule was full to the brim since every athlete came running to you.
“…Is that a problem?” You questioned, arching an eyebrow.
“Of course not.” He swallowed thickly and then met your gaze. “I’ll make sure to be on my A game.”
“You’d better be.” You grinned as you slapped his lower back, earning a deep groan from him:
toru oikawa:
“Remember what I told you.” You hissed as you and Oikawa walked into the brightly lit press conference room after his win.
“Relax, relax…! You’d think I was such a nightmare to work with with all your worrying.” He chuckled.
“I mean it. You might be doing fine in games but your publicity is in the toilet. I’m not saying be all sugary but try to be a little gratuitous. Thank your fans…something!”
You froze when you felt his large hands plant onto your shoulders, eyes widening.
“What did I just tell you?” He teased with a glint in his eye.
“…I’m a publicist, Toru. Relaxation doesn’t exist in my world.” You said bluntly.
In your peripherals you noticed a flash go off, causing you to roll your eyes.
There’d always been rumors circulating about the sexy PR manager and Argentina National Team’s Number 13.
You always nagged Oikawa to shoot them down for his own sake since his fangirls were relentless but the most he did was drop a ‘will they/won’t they?’ answer which annoyed you to no end.
“Maybe when you get time off I could fly you out. They have killer massages in Bangkok. You could use one.”
“Just go.” You hissed, pushing his hands off. As he jogged over to the table, he turned around to shoot you a wink.
Oikawa was a natural when it came to commanding attention. As he stood at the podium with microphones, with his billion-dollar smile, the journalists and reporters were buzzing with excitement.
“Alright, alright. Sorry for the hold-up folks. I know this was the first thing on your mind when you woke up.” He chuckled.
You automatically facepalmed.
Your advice went in one ear and out the other. Oikawa was lucky he was handsome. Because despite how douchey that was, it earned a rambunctious round of applause and cheers.
After the cheers settled down, the first reporter stood up, clearing his throat.
“Firstly, I’d like to congratulate you on your win. How does it feel to lead your team to victory once again?”
“It’s as natural as breathing.” He chuckled. “But our opponents put up a great fight. I’ll give credit where credit is due.”
“Despite the adoration from your fans, you’ve faced some criticism regarding your unsportsmanlike behavior of riling up rivals. Any response to that?” A female reporter enquired.
“Well, I know my sense of humor isn’t for everybody. Luckily I got our publicist keeping reins on me. And boy does she keep the leash tight, if you catch my drift.” He said with an impish grin.
At first silence, then it was a sudden flurry of questions, reporters and journalists fighting it out to get the first question.
“Are you dating each other?”
“Are you single or taken?”
Toru Oikawa had a talent for sparking media frenzies.
As your eyes met, you gave him a chopping neck gesture as you grit your teeth, earning a belly laugh from him.
You were so screwed.
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