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#marquie x Ushi
mindninjax · 3 years
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Good Morning everyone: my head is empty save for the amorous idea of waddling around the house barefoot as Ushi’s tiny very pregnant wife. I am restless and cleaning, a term known as “nesting” because it our first child and nothing seems perfect enough for our little angel’s arrival.
He is watching me silently from the corner of his eye with his hands digging into his thighs because he just wants me to sit down before I hurt myself but he knows I’ll just get back up again and start cleaning because I just can’t sit down. He’s humoring me.
When he finally can’t take it anymore my giant husband just gets up, grabs me ever so gently and plops me down on the couch with a blanket over me. He pulls me into his arms and rubs my bulging belly and kisses the top of my head. He intertwines his fingers with mine and settles in on the couch saying something poetic like “I can’t wait to see what our love has bloomed into.”
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mindninjax · 3 years
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i promise i look at this so often. I know I sent it to you already but he’s perfect !!!
I literally will never ever get tired of looking at pictures of him.
I love him SO FUCKING MUCH omg. Like my heart cannot take this.
I just wanna be the reason he smiles this big. Like what if he just won a game and he’s just so happy to see you in the crowd and he fucking smiles at you like this.
Great I’ve just made myself sob. Bahah
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mindninjax · 3 years
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The Way It Blooms
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Pairing: Wakatoshi Ushijima x virgin!reader 
Rating: M for the sex but it’s FLUFF
Warning: it’s fluffy smut, pure fluff. 
Word Count: 3.4K
a/n: Do you remember the moment you fell in love with someone?  The very first moment the two of you made love? This fic is kinda about that. Ushijima has quickly become one of my comfort characters as you will see in this soft ass shit.
This was used as inspiration and it’s beautiful. Also, you should listen to  Get You by Daniel Caesar during the smut lol. 
Dedicated to one @dymphnasprose for dropping so much Ushi content in my DMs and making me fall for him more and more and for this fucking adorable ass pet name that I will always use and associate with both you and Ushi. I love you babe! 
Plucking the strings idly of your old acoustic guitar, you feel the familiar rush of calm wash over your body. You haven’t picked it up since your sophomore year of high school when you—embarrassingly— serenaded your boyfriend at the time with a dumb love song you wrote him after only dating for 3 months. It was Valentine’s day, you thought it’d be special. He broke up with you and called you “clingy”. And being the dramatic but valid—because that guy was a major asshole— teenager, you’d stopped playing. 
As you got older, you’d forgotten about it, shifted your focus on getting into college, becoming a journalist like you’d planned. Something changed in you in the last few weeks though. You were braver, more confident, happier with who you were as a person. 
It could be because the winter months were coming to an end, the sun was shining more, beating down into your dorm room and warming the cold dark depressing atmosphere you hidden yourself in for the past few months. Or it could be...him. 
Your face heats up and you pluck a sour note on the guitar as his face fills your mind. Piercing moss green eyes gaze into your subconscious and make a home there. Your heart flutters when you think about his voice, the last words he said to you, “I’ll be back to you soon, don’t worry”, before it becomes heavy with yearning and you remember he’s across an ocean right now playing an intense volleyball match you’re sure his team will win. 
Wakatoshi pulled the deepest emotions from you, the deepest and most forgotten portions of your personality, the ones you used to enjoy the most before society squeezed it from you. He admired your creativity, and his blunt comments or questions always caught you by surprise, in a good way. 
“God, I wish I could go up on stage and sing like that!” you’d said one date night while watching  a woman perform karaoke. 
“Why can’t you?” Toshi asked in a deadpan voice as he stroked the back of your hand. You blinked at him, not able to give him a clear reason of why you couldn’t go up on stage. It’d just felt natural to say, like you weren’t supposed to go. By the end of the night, you were on stage laughing and singing, full of joy as you watched him clap along to the music and his eyes followed you around on stage. It was the happiest you’d been in a while, and it was one the first few dates you’d gone on with him.  
You strum a few chords, humming to yourself as you get caught up in the music. You’d forgotten how calming it was, how much strumming and humming helped you feel when you allowed yourself to just be you. It was strangely how you felt every single time you were around Wakatoshi, comfortable yet protected. You pick up your phone and check the time, an idea forming in your head. He’d be in the middle of the game right now so he won’t have his phone until it’s over. 
You prop the phone up on a pillow with it facing you. Your face is bare with no makeup, your hair is a little messy from the wear and tear of the day and you were in the middle of getting ready for bed so you’re wearing an old cami and tiny shorts. You shrug, electing not to worry about your appearance, prop the guitar up on your leg, clear your throat, and press the record button on your phone. 
You strum a simple tune, something that repeats where the beat can be easily kept. It’s a swaying melody, one that tiptoes up and down the score with light steps; like a soft lullaby intended to serenade and rock the listener into a dreamy slumber. You’re not nervous, you don’t worry about what anyone might think about you, you just close your eyes and think of Toshi and how much you miss him.
 You focus on how much you want to feel his arms around you, how he makes your heart jump into your chest when his fingers lightly draw over your skin. You giggle when you think about his dry attempts at jokes just so he can see you smile and the way he will poke at where the dimple would be if you smiled when you're frowning. His own little silent gesture to say “smile little doe,” because he's not a man of many words. 
You lose yourself in the melody, start to sing the words that sashay around your head and heart. You’re not sure if they make sense, or if they fit the tune, you only know you want him to know how you’re feeling and for some reason this feels like the perfect way to show him. You pour your heart into each word you sing, communicating in the most intimate way you know how to while he’s away, and it’s evident in the passionate way you float to each note.  
Your voice wavers when you sing about how much you wish he was here with you, how much you want him to touch you and hold you and feel you, even going so far as to mention making love to him. You two haven’t been dating long a few months at most, and you’re astounded at just how much you crave him. Except that isn’t the word you want to use. The word you want to use scares you, so you’re hoping, praying that he will feel it when he hears this. 
You end the song and stop the recording, softly and with purpose as if to solidify every feeling you’ve contained in this beautiful little song for him and before you become too afraid and erase it. No, he deserves to hear this song for him. A message in a bottle that you send across the ocean and with it, hope and comfort that there is someone out there in the world who understands him and sees him. 
You type a quick message and attach the video quickly before you talk yourself out of it: 
Toshi, here’s a little something to help you sleep! See you in two days! ❤️
You hit send and chew on your lip before tossing the phone aside and quickly finishing your night routine for bed. 
--
“Get some rest Ushiwaka! You deserve it after the win you got us today!” 
Wakatoshi waves off his teammates silently as he shuffles to his hotel room and pulls out the keycard. He sighs heavily when he hears the affirmative beep and the lock clicks. He’s exhausted, the long 5 set match finally done. The other team put up a great fight and he’s always appreciative of a team who has a fighting spirit, but he’s exhausted and hasn’t been able to see or hear from you all day. He collapses on his bed and digs through his bag for his phone. He turns it off before matches so he can keep his focus but he always sends a quick message to you before he does and he never turns it off until he gets a text back from you. 
When the screen lights up and comes back alive he smiles to himself. It’s your face on his phone background. One that he took when you both visited the park near campus. You’d picked a huge sunflower and you were beaming. He’d had to move quickly and figure out how to open his camera to take it before you realized, but it came out stunning. You looked so happy, the dimple in your cheek deepening as you caught his love-filled gaze on you. 
Your face smiles back at him on screen now and he frowns when he realizes how much he misses you. He wishes you were here with him. It’s very seldom that you aren’t at one of his games, cheering him on, watching his every movement, being his motivation. He plays harder when you’re watching, he wants to make you proud, although you’re always proud of him. But the way your eyes light up when he wins a match, how you jump on him and squeal when he leaves the court sweaty and still full of adrenaline from the match, makes the win all the more worth it. 
Wakatoshi doesn’t know exactly what it is about you that he likes so much. He finds himself pondering it as he watches you do mundane tasks. When you twirl your pencil while you work on homework, the way you bite your cheek when you’re thinking of something, or the way you gravitate toward him when you’re sitting next to him, he finds it entertaining. He could watch you all day and never get bored, and that’s a first for him. It’s a first that anything other than volleyball has kept his attention and he’s not bothered by it. 
He opens the message from you, swiping up to unlock his phone and his eyes grow a little wide when he sees you’ve sent him a video. He reads the message before getting up, grunting as he stands to go take a shower. If the video is to help him sleep, he figures he should get ready for bed before he watches, plus he likes the idea of your face being the last thing he sees before he drifts off to sleep. 
When he’s showered and his muscles are relaxed and dripping from the shower, he pulls on his boxers, dries himself and climbs into the stiff hotel bed, wishing once again that he was climbing in next to you. He grabs his phone again as he lays on his back. He opens the message once again, smiling at your face—he misses so much—and plays the video. 
The guitar strums surprise him, he didn’t know you could play guitar. It’s automatically soothing and he stores this fun fact in his brain, vowing to never forget it as it’s information on one of his favorite things. The tune you strum is simple yet beautiful, maybe because it’s you playing it or just that your fingers so meticulously strum the strings. He can tell this is your craft and you’re good at it. 
He closes his eyes as he continues to listen to the repetitive melody and he’s immediately thankful that you sent him this. It will help him sleep and he can drift off knowing that even though you aren’t here, you’re still helping and supporting him from afar. 
His eyes shoot open when you start to sing. Your voice is astounding. It is unlike anything Wakatoshi has ever heard before. It twinkles like a delicate little bell, rings loud and strong as the words continue and pierce his heart. It swirls, sways, rocks and swaddles him in all the love you project through these lyrics. Your voice is sweet, relieving, like ice cream on a very hot day after practice, and when you sing his name and about making love, he grunts in approval. It’s suddenly all he wants. His body, his heart aches for you and all he wants is to be with you again. When the song ends on a tender note, he plays the song again and again, hanging on every lilt of your voice and committing it to memory. 
Right before he drifts off to sleep, he texts back a quick message to you, a vow he intends on keeping. 
I am coming back to you soon little doe.
--
Your hair is brushed from your forehead and you sigh in contentment. You’re sure you're dreaming, it’s been the same recurring dream every night since Toshi has been gone. When you feel a hand cradle your face, your eyes shoot open to see him, sitting on the edge of your bed caressing your face in his large hand. Tears well in your eyes when you see him and you jump up to wrap your arms around his neck. 
“Toshi!”
He pulls you into his lap and cradles your body against his. You can hear his gym bag slip from his shoulder and you peep over his shoulder to see his luggage in the corner of your room. His luggage. You pull back to look into his eyes. 
“Toshi, did you come straight here when you got off the plane?” you ask looking concerned and trying to wipe the tears from your eyes. He’s faster than you, reaching a long finger out to catch a falling one and swipe it from your cheek. 
“Yes. You don’t have to cry. It was no trouble,” The deep baritone rumbles his body and moves through you. It’s only been a few days since you two have seen each other, but his voice still sends a shiver up your spine whenever you hear it. 
You shake your head in defiance, “Wakatoshi, you should’ve gone to your dorm. You need to rest,” you say furrowing your eyebrows and trying to be serious. 
He stares at you with an intense stare and you’re momentarily worried. Wakatoshi has never looked at you this way before. This stare is usually intended for his teammates or a rival, when he’s serious and focused during a match. 
“No. I needed to see you.” 
You’re not sure what comes over you but his words ignite a fire in you and you kiss him, hard and passionate. Ever the prepared sportsman, he kisses you back matching your passion and groaning into your mouth. All the yearning the two of you shared over the last few days rushes out of you and into the kiss. It’s sloppy and you both have to pull back and catch your breath. 
His hands fall to your hips as he pulls you closer against him. Your hands roam down his chest, up his broad shoulders and down his bulging back muscles. You breathe his name against his lips and he growls, picks you up and places you down on your back on the bed. 
He crawls over you, fixating himself between your thighs. You’re both still clothed but the aching for each other is more than just the sex. You just want to be close to him, to feel him wrap his arms around you, to feel his lips against yours again. He bends down to your face and kisses you again. Softer this time, as if he’s afraid to hurt you or lose control. He kisses down your jaw, bites and sucks on your neck, marking you as his. 
You hear him rumble into your neck, “Mine” before he bites down and makes another mark. You moan at the sensation and Wakatoshi momentarily stops to savor the sound. It’s almost as sweet as your lovely singing voice, and he’d give anything to hear you moan his name. You paw at the hem of his shirt as he continues to kiss your cheek and neck. 
“I want to see you Toshi,” you whimper. He gazes into your eyes for a moment before removing  his shirt and you marvel at his rippling muscles. He’s so big, his herculean frame always able to make your mouth water. He can see the pride of having him be yours in his eyes and he likes it. 
He wants you to be proud to have him, the same way he’s proud to have you. He grabs the end of your shirt and slowly pulls it over your head. Large hands clumsily grasp the clasp of the bra He observes you like a work of art, committing every freckle and mole to memory. 
“You’re beautiful,” he says and the way the word “beautiful” falls effortlessly from his lips when describing you makes your face grow hot. There’s nothing you want more than him, now. He removes his pants and underwear and slides yours down your legs as well. When you both are left staring at each other in awe, you pull him back down to kiss you again. 
You can feel his engorged cock twitching against your thigh as he hovers on his elbows over you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, desperation escaping with your next exhale. He kisses down your chest, covering every inch of you with the sweetest embrace of his lips. He licks at your nipple, nips softly and when he hears you gasp he bites down a bit harder before licking to soothe the brisk pain. 
Your heart beats faster with every kiss, this feeling inside of you overwhelms you and when you push your hips up to meet his, a silent plea, he pulls back to look at the exquisite fountain between your legs. He holds his weeping cock in one hand and for the first time you look at him nervously. Will it fit? What if it doesn’t? Will he still want to be with you? He reaches a large hand to caress your cheek and the tumbling storm in your chest calms with his sweet gesture. He stares into your eyes and that same intensity burns there, passionate and solicitous, like the sun. 
“Don’t worry little doe, I’ll be gentle,” he says running a thumb over your cheek. The anxiety is gone instantly and you look at him with the utmost trust as he places the tip of his dick to your entrance. He rubs it against your slippery folds, slathering your slick over his copious length and preparing you for all his glory. You nod to him when he looks at you for permission to enter. 
He pushes inside of you, moving slowly and passing the first ring of muscle. He grunts when the crown of his cock is sitting comfortably in your fluttering walls. You whimper as you become accustomed to how full you already feel. When your heaving chest slows down from the initial insertion, he continues to slide into you, hips moving closer to yours in a welcoming embrace. You stretch around him and it burns, but you clench as well, your body’s way of telling him not to stop. 
When he’s fully sheathed inside of you he grunts and you moan in unadulterated pleasure. Your eyes are shut as you concentrate on how he feels inside of you. Despite the fullness and the stretch it doesn’t feel foreign as you expected. It feels like he belongs, like your body will mold to his because it knows it’s supposed to be him. 
Little salty droplets bead at the corner of your eyes as you think about this, and when you open them Wakatoshi is staring with an unknown expression. The emotion, the love, grows inside of you like a sunflower reaching for the sun. It tumbles from your lips when he, while never severing your gaze, pulls his hips out ever so slightly and plunges back into you.  A quick chaste “I love you” that you’re sure and are slightly thankful he doesn’t hear. The fear and insecurity bubbling and shielding the sun again.
You cry out instead, “Oh god Toshi!” He wraps his arms around your body, leaning his weight onto his arms to avoid putting it all on you but wanting to pull you closer to his body. Your arms wrap around his neck as he pulls out all the way and slowly plunges back inside you again, starting a slow sensual pace. He rocks his hips, latches his lips to your neck as you dig your hands into his hair and you lift your hips to feel more of him. 
His pace quickens as he becomes lost in the passion of your warm velvety walls, what he assumes is heaven. You’re moaning his name over and over, tears now falling down your cheeks as your ecstasy creeps upon you. When you feel the coil inside you snap, you pull him closer, nails digging into his back as your thighs shake and wrap around his waist. You cry out again, no longer able to hold it in, “I love you! Toshi, I love you so much!” 
The words tumble from your lips as his cum spills inside you and grunts your name loudly. He connects his lips with yours as the two of you ride out your orgasm together, as one. When you both come down from your high, he rubs his forehead against yours brushing his nose against yours before whispering in his deep baritone voice something you almost don’t make out. But when you do hear it, you wrap your arms around his neck again and hug him close, intent on never letting go. 
“I love you, little doe.”
--
Thanks for Reading!!
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mindninjax · 3 years
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Ngl I had the cutest idea: You rambling to Ushi about some topic you are obsessed with and he doesn't understand a thing you are saying but he will still listen anyway with that same stupidly cute look on his face.
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KIKI IM FUCKING SCREAMING, THIS IS SO CUTTTTEEEE. 🥺🥺🥺He would listen to me ramble about weasels! And omg he console me and rub my back when I cry about finding out one of the species is endangered and almost close to extinction (because I did fucking do that in real ass life) and would pat me on the head when I showed him my wholesome weasel memes. 
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mindninjax · 3 years
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Inebriated Titilation
Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader
Warnings: smut (18+), umm bruh masturbation while he fantasizes about sex, mention of a blow job, mentions of alcohol and drunkeness, you and ushi are in college 
a/n: If you’re surprised, you don’t know me that well bahahah my hyperfixations thoroughly run my body and creative spirit. Also this was what I wrote when I was drunk two nights ago bahahah so it’ll properly be titled what drunk marquie titled the document until I think of an actual title so please enjoy. EDIT: I thought of a title.
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You are in Wakatoshi’s bed. Shirtless, braless, pantless. Nothing but the delicate little twine of your thong digging into the flesh that dips at your waist. You’re on your side, curled in a ball, back facing him so the curve of your ass looks the most plump it can—or so he thinks.
The swimming curvature of your waist that cascades into your thick thighs is like a painting, perfect in all its glory. Your shoulder blades poke out ever so slightly in your back as you snuggle into the pillow you’ve wrapped your arms around, his pillow. Your nose buries into the fabric, takes in his scent, and you sigh in contentment.
Wakatoshi watches your every movement like a hawk, piercing olive eyes studying you like a scientist with a new discovery. He sits in the computer chair in his dorm room, trying to distract himself with tapes from the last volleyball game he played, but the tiny sighs and moans from your slumbering form, pull his eyes back toward you. 
You are asleep in Wakatoshi’s bed. Drunk sleeping from the house party he so graciously carried your intoxicated self from after you'd gotten giggly and handsy with him. You’d swayed back and forth, eyes droopy but full of life as you found him in the crowd. 
“Toshii, I’m so tiredddd,” you slurred, falling into his arms as you found him at the party. 
He kept an eye on you as you flitted around the party, always the social butterfly in your relationship. But when you fell clumsily into his lap as he sat quietly with his friends, when you’d kissed his cheek and ran your hands down his large chest, brushed over his very sizable cock in the loose shorts he wore, he knew it was time to get you home. 
He’d picked you up, cradled you against him, holding you like the princess he always treated you as, and announced with a simple “Y/n and I are going home now,” that he was done socializing for the night. 
Wakatoshi adores you, though if you watched him on the outside you’d never be able to tell. There’s something about the way you’re able to know what his actions mean. He’s never had to explain to you, it’s why the two of you work so well, it’s why he knows you’ll be the one he marries after college. 
But right now, Wakatoshi wants to fuck you. He’s wanted to since he felt your soft lips on his cheek at the party. Your body is driving him insane. Your parted lips, your sleepy gasps and moans, the way your back muscles flex and relax when you breathe in and out, makes him want you. He sits and watches you sleep, his hands move almost automatically to his cock quickly climbing in size the more he watches. 
He grits his teeth when you moan his name in your sleep; the smallest sweetest little voice, dripping with desire, affection, lust. What are you dreaming about and when can he make it reality? It’s almost natural when he slips his cock from the shorts and compression underwear he's wearing.  
“Toshi…” you breathe in your sleep induced haze and his large fingers wrap around the base of his dick. 
He wants you but he’d rather lose a game of volleyball then wake you from your peaceful slumber. It’s ok though, your body will be his muse, and he will have you tomorrow when you’ve awakened. 
For now though, he has his imagination. When looking at Wakatoshi, most figure he’s one track minded, only volleyball techniques dancing around the recesses of his mind. Not the case. Wakatoshi is an only child, volleyball was his childhood, but so was his imagination. 
Before he met you, he could come from the most intense masturbation session, painting realistic pictures of himself fucking big tittied women in his mind. Now that he had you, there was no need, but right now, he can use it to his advantage. 
You and Toshi don’t fuck often, but when you do, it’s mind-blowing, out of this world, mostly because the two of you are so determined to blow each other’s minds with each other’s skills; that’s the competitive nature shining through. So he has ideas, something to work with as he pumps his length. 
Will his hand ever feel better than the glorious promised land that is your pussy? No, but it doesn’t mean he can’t imagine that it can. He spits into his palm and makes a tight fist over the tip of his swollen pink head. 
He fantasizes it��s your mouth, remembering the night you sucked him off so well that you joked he came so hard it almost spewed out of your nose. He’d scolded you for the lewdness, but stored the way your mascara had run down your face, the way his cum dribbled from your chin as you tried to swallow each and every drop, in the back of his mind for a moment like this. 
He starts slow, picturing your lips spreading around the thick cock head, the way your rosy tongue would flatten to make more room and take all of him in.  When the crown of his cock passes through his tightened fist he groans, low in his chest, trying to keep quiet.
He stops for just a second when he hears you rustle on the bed. He thinks he’s woken you and curses before watching your eyes flutter and hearing a tiny drunk hiccup escape your lips. He smiles to himself when you stop moving and your breathing returns to a uniform pattern. 
He gets back to work, pumping himself slowly savoring the delicious image of you in his head. You’ve maneuvered on the bed, poked your ass out more towards him so that it sits like a luscious peach he wants to take a bite out of. He pictures your ass bouncing on him, the slap of your skin against his, the way it jiggles as you push back on him when he fucks you from behind. 
Wakatoshi isn’t very loud during sex, except when he’s fucking you from behind. That position has always been his favorite. You’re so good about meeting his thrusts, and when you clench around him, he can feel every sensation of your warm velvety walls wrap around him. His breathing and pace pick up at the thought. He drags his fist up and down, curling his toes into the cheap carpet of his dorm room and flexing his thighs as he lifts them gingerly to fuck up into his palm. 
He shuts his eyes tightly, gasps and grunts in his deep baritone, and pulls his shirt up at the last moment before he shoots cum onto his chiseled abs. He’d been so wrapped up in his fantasy he hadn’t noticed the lack of measured sleepy breathing. 
He opens his eyes to see you sitting up on the bed, rubbing your eyes and watching him in confusion. He quickly tucks himself back into his underwear and shorts, pulls his shirt over his head, and grabs a kleenex from the box on his desk to clean the mess he made. He stands and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed. 
“I’m sorry, angel. I was trying not to wake you,” he says in an even tone. You move to sit in his lap and wrap your legs around his torso. His hands immediately move to cradle your ass and you kiss his cheek and grind down on his semi.
“Toshi, you’ve been so sweet to me all night. Now it’s my turn to help you,” you purr into his ear as you reach a hand into his shorts and his cock grows again. 
--
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