College student who writes during her free time, in coming junior
kpop stan, ults aespa, nwjns, ive. more about me
request rules masterlist
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Majority of my readers are black!reader, I also write mostly family themed fanfics, but monthly write a smut (if my school schedule allows me to and if I have the energy to tbh)
Ushijima Wakatoshi’s hands rested at ten and two on the steering wheel, his posture disciplined behind the wheel just as it was on the court hours ago. The SUV hummed along at a steady 72 miles per hour, the cruise control a silent testament to his precision
In the passenger seat, you were curled into a loose ball, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over your locs, your breathing slow and even. In the back, strapped into his car seat, your two year son [], holding a stuffed owl against his chest,his tiny mouth slightly open, lost in the same peaceful sleep as you
Day three into the return trip from the two week volleyball camp Wakatoshi had been invited to coach as the season was on a halt. The weight of the drive was finally catching up with everyone, he insisted on doing all the driving, you argued, stating that his shoulder had seen better days and that he needed rest. But he just looked at you with unwavering eyes and said with calmness “I want you to rest”
With him it was never a negotiation, not because he was controlling but because when he decided something was his responsibility, he carried it without complaint until the very end.
He glanced at the gauge as the fuel light slickered, it was enough to make it to the next exit, but not further. ‘That’s good’ he thought to himself checking the review mirror seeing []’s head lolled to the side, a line of drool on his chin.
He took the next exit, following the green signs toward a truck stop that promised gas,coffee and a burger chain you mentioned craving two days ago.
He signaled his car,checking around and pulled near the restaurant, looking at you, your hood had slipped slightly and a few of your locs were dangling side to side.
Two weeks of you managing a toddler at volleyball camp, at the same time helping out with organizing meals, and handling so many issues. You hadn’t complained not once, but he knew you were tired, very tired. He saw the way you rubbed your eyes when he wasn’t looking, hearing the sigh you tried to bury when [] woke up third night in a row
The drive thru line was short, two cars ahead of him, he pulled up the menu on his phone as he waited, making mental notes of what to order. He knew when [] woke up he would demolish a four piece chicken nugget and half of fried, while you helped [] clean himself.
He ordered at the speaker, his voice low and even, the teenager on the other end, sounded tired and with a simple ‘thank you” Wakatoshi said with the same gravity he used for everything else but for his family. When he pulled up to the window, the same teenage blinked up and recognized him
“Hey aren’t you…?”
“Yes…have a good evening” Wakatoshi replied, taking the bag and the drink carrier and then paying, with a good amount of tip that made the teenager’s eyes go wide
He settled the drinks into the cup holders, your and his and then placed []’s food beside the car seat, for easy access. But he didn’t start the engine immediately, he looked back at [], his son’s face round and soft, the same serious brow Wakatoshi had as a child, but with your warmth around his mouth and eyes. []’s little fingers had gone around the stuffed owl and one of his tiny sneakers on the floor of the car
Wakatoshi moved the curls of his son’s face, him stirring slightly
“Go back to sleep” He says
[] went back to bed,putting his thumb into his mouth as Wakatoshi turned back around and looked at you
Your eyes were barely open, with a soft smile
“How long have you been awake?”
“Woke up a few minutes ago…can see you got us food” You stretched, your spine cracking “Yummy” You said grabbing your drink and taking a sip, your eyelids dropping in pleasure
“Did I tell you I love you”
“Many times”
“Well I love you” You repeated taking a long sip “Should have woken me up…”
“You were sleeping”
“Still…”
“I did not want to” Wakatoshi replied in that matter of fact way of his
You giggled, dropping your drink into the drink carrier “Toshi”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you” You whispered
He reached over and took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, bringing it up to his lips and kissing your knuckles “M’pleasure…eat”
You pulled the bag into your lap and fished out fries, handing it to him which he accepted it with comment
“Tasty?”
“Yeah”
You snuggle back into your chair as he starts the engine driving slowly as you ate your burger, the smell of pickles and cheese filling the car.
As he drove back on the highway, you fed him his fries, Wakatoshi angling his face to grab the fries and pay attention at the same time.
When the food was gone and the drinks were down, you gathered the trash into the bag,setting it aside on the floor in front of your seat, watching the sun paint the skies in shades of orange and gold.
You both soon hear a mutter and a little “M’hungry”
“Morning baby” You said looking back at [] as he wakes up
“Morning…mama…papa”
“You hungry? Papa brought nuggets and fries for you” You said patting his leg trying to make sure he woke up so he could eat
“M’kay”
You smile removing the nugget from the bag and handing it to him “We’ll be home soon”
“M’kay”
You turned around playing []’s favorite music humming to it as [] began to wake up eating his nugget slowly.
In the quiet of the car, the weight of his family, the simple act of driving them home was peaceful for him. He reached over without looking, finding your hand and lacing your fingers through his and held on.
Two more hours and then he was home with his family.
Your daughter loses her first tooth, so she shows it off to Kei's teammates
Sorry for any grammatical errors!!
WC: 1.1k
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The gym smelled of sweat and cedarwood polish, a scent so familiar to Kei, it was practically his second home.
Twack!
Twack!!
Twack!!!
The rhythmic sound of volleyballs meeting palms echoed off the rafters. Kei’s arm swung in a perfect arc, sending the ball over the net with a loud twack!
“Another one!”
Kei pushed his glasses up and wiped the sweat off his face using his practice jersey when you walked in with your 5 year old daughter
Your eyes immediately landed on your husband, his blonde hair damp, his knee pads slightly off his knees. He stood, with his height and the way he muttered under his breath after his teammate missed a block. He and the team been practicing like it was the last day,
Well it felt like it,nationals were only a few months away
“Break!” His coach yelled ,his voice cutting through the chaos
You watched as everyone took a breather, some laying on the ground, some gulping down water and the rest going to the coach to have some conversations.
You and [] were in the jersey Sendai Frogs provided the families of their players. It had “TSUKISHIMA #17” on the back and kei’s signature to show that you were his family.
“Try to stay calm baby” You told [] who had relentless energy, vibrating as she held her plushie
You watched him look around for you, his eyes sweeping past the empty seats, team managers to the corner of the gym. His expression didn’t change, it never did. But his shoulder, tense from hours of practice, dropped.
You knew he never liked showing much expression in front of his members, so his ‘too cool’ persona didn’t faze you.
He grabbed his towel, wiped his face one more time,tossing it to his practice side as he practically, though he wouldn't admit it, ran to you
“Hey” Kei greeted, his voice low and even, leaning down and, giving you a quick peck on your lips, his hand finding the back of your neck just for a moment.
A simple “I’m glad you’re here”
Then he turned to the vibrant [], kneeling down, ruffling her hair with both of his hands till she begged him to stop giggling
“Stop!” [] giggled
Kei raised an eyebrow still messing with her hair “Mama said you wore the jersey backwards”
“It’s fashion, you wouldn’t understand” [] replied
“Oh?” Kei chuckled, pecking her cheek “What brought you here?”
“She wanted to show you something” You replied
“Couldn’t wait?”
"Couldn't wait”
[] beamed and dug into her pocket into her jeans, and pulled out a small Ziploc bag
Inside was a tooth, small white and seemed bloody an hour ago
“I lost my tooth!” [] screamed, thrusting the bag towards his face, nearly smacking his glasses “It fell out when Mama picked me up from school!” [] said showing her gap toothed grin
Kei took the bag, examined it for some minutes before sighing “Baby did you make mama drive all the way here…for a tooth?”
“Kei!” You playfully warned him
“What?”
“She wanted to show you the evidence before the tooth fairy flies it away” You teased
“Tooth…fairy?”
“We talked about this” You replied
Kei sighed standing up and hanging the bag back to []
“Lemme see your mouth…say ah”
[] opened her mouth and closed it when Kei nodded
“So,how do you feel, baby?” Kei asked
[] taps her cheek before showing off her gap-toothed grin again “Happy!”
“Happy?”
“Mama said a tooth will grow there”
“Well she’s not wrong” Kei said before turning around to see his teammates staring at him
“Do you…?” Kei looked back at you for permission
“I don’t mind…she probably wants them to see it too”
At that every moment, they crowd [] with a smile
“Tsukishima, your kid has a hole in mouth” One commented
“Can see that”
“She’s growing up…” Another cooed
“I go to her every night, not blind”
“You have glasses” he replied
“Still not blind” Kei responded with sass before muttering under his breath “Surrounded by idiots”
“Daddy’s that’s mean…people have feelings!” [] replied
Kei looked at you with a confused face “Did she?”
“She took your sass” You giggled as he showed his sulked face, still hurt that his daughter took his teammates’ side instead of his
After dreadful minutes ,according to Kei, of his teammates asking her about how she feels for the millionth time, [] tugged on his practice jersey “Papa,papa,papa”
“What?”
“Can I have a piggyback ride?”
“No”
“Please?”
“No”
“Pretty please with a tooth on top?”
“No”
[] pouts, walking to you and resting her head on your tummy “Mama, papa’s mean” which earned Kei a glare from you.
Kei stared at her for a long moment and then without a word, bent down and scooped her up, settling her onto his back as she wrapped her small hands around his neck
“Mama look!”
“Looking baby”
“You and your mama are both menaces" Kei sighed
“If we’re…mena?”
“Menaces” You finished
“Thank you mama, if we’re what mama said, why did you smile when you called us…um mama what’s the word again?”
“Menaces” You repeated
“Me….na…ces?”[] questioned Kei
“I did not”
“Did too! Mama’s a witness… I saw a small smile!”
“She’s not lying…” You said adding into the teasing banter
“Treason” Kei whispered, the tips of his ears turning pink,before taking her to the bench and dropping her there before grabbing strawberry yogurt,her favorite from his practice bag “Might be soggy”
“S’ okay”
Kei opened it for her, occasionally wiping a smear of pink yogurt off her chin with his thumb and accepting the bag when [] puts it close to his mouth.
You sat beside [] when it was time for Kei to return to the practice, and soon [] fell asleep, resting her head on your lap as you watched Kei hit the balls with the familiar twack!, rubbing your hand over her hair.
An hour or two later, Kei jogs to you, dropping his practice bag beside your bag and,staring at [] who had her mouth opened, her hand around your hand
“Asleep?”
“Yeah” You replied and watched as Kei carried her gently on his back, [] making herself comfortable again as she falls back to sleep
“Time to go home” He whispered, grabbing her forgotten plushie “You okay?”
“M’okay”
“You sure?”
You nodded and Kei leans down, making sure [] was feeling comfortable, pecking your lips “Thank you for bringing her” kei whispers patting her back
“Of course…she won’t leave me alone if I didn’t anyways” You giggled
“I believe it” He replied “She’s persistent…gets it from you”
“Me?...should I remind you who stayed all night to apologize when we had a fight”
“I was a teenager”
“Really”
“It’s called dedication”
“I don’t think so”
“Well you married me so…it paid off”
[] wakes up rubbing her eyes “Papa…”
“You’ll be in a real bed soon baby” Kei replied as you carried your and Kei’s bag, both balancing on both shoulders
“Are you proud papa?” [] asks resting her head on his back
“Why you asking”
“M’ growing up…mama said you’re proud that I’m growing up”
Idc, normalize kink shaming. Cause y'all be using “don’t kink shame” and “it’s fiction” to excuse being into incest, pedophilia, cannibalism, etc. Like, be so fr, you ship a 14 year old with a 30 year, want to get railed by your dad and want to see two brothers f*ck each other. I don’t engage with things fictionally that I don’t like/wouldn’t want to do in real life. Yes, I’m judging you.
so cringe that ur writing HAS to be black!readers.. like js make it inclusive for all, white writers do it, most latina and asian writers too. don’t get the concept of saying black!reader if ur not gonna include culture specific to black people, not like yall have some anyway…
#ragebait, please go make your own blog and stop whining about it
They hold their son for the first time, headcanons
Sorry for any grammatical errors!!
WC: 552
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Zuko
Zuko rushes to your chambers after hearing you were in labor, apologizing for not being there on time and keeping quiet when he sees an infant swaddled in a blanket on your chest
The second he carried his son, who immediately blinked at him, this man froze. The fire lord, your husband who had fought off assassins, guards with his powerful fire bedding alongside the avatar, is completely undone by the seven pounds of the sleeping infant.
He notices everything, the softness of their hair, the crust of their fingers, the way the clothes is swaddled around him, the gentle breathing of the infant, he never realized he could no
He chuckled, whispering that your son had your lips with the most watery and soft smile, his voice cracking when the baby wrapped his fingers around his index finger
Zuko let out a few tears, remembering how he grew up with a father who looked at him like a disappointment, so carrying his own son, after all the trouble his life has been, breaks him down. He promises that he would never treat his son, the way his father treated him
He hands your son back to you and pecks your knuckles, forehead and your lips, and then the baby’s head, switching between the two of you like he can not decide who he loves more.
Watches the maids help your son latch on to your breast, covering it with his hand so the royal healers don’t intrude
“They’re going to be so loved” he murmurs “I promise”
Aang
For a monk who has been patient throughout his life, this moment has been heart wrecking to him. Ha paces outside the door for hours, Katara and Sokka having to calm him down and ease his nerves whenever Aang starts to fidget.
The moment he’s allowed, he rushes in and sees you holding the baby, stopping dead in the doorway, his hand over his mouth and his eyes having tears by the corner of his eyes.
Sits beside you and stares at you and your newborn son for a long time as Katara checks up on you. He keeps looking between you and the baby like he can’t process the fact that this is his reality
Pecks your forehead and thanks you so many times, that Katara and Sokka begged him to stop, he only stopped when you giggled and pecked his lips saying he needed to save his voice to speak to his son
When he finally holds him, he starts to talk softly to him, telling them about the world and bending, about appa and momo, about how beautiful you were. The baby just blinks up at him like aang and him have been talking for months
Your son came out with hair so Aang runs his fingers through it gently, letting the curls fall off his fingers “They’re so….perfect…you did so good…so good”
Holding his son is the most healing things he has ever experienced, after marrying you of course. But because he lost everything, his family and his community, his son ignited the fire that was once in him
Cries freely, doesn’t apologize for it, his tears fall onto the baby’s blanket and he laughs softly though them
“I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you”
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a short one since sophmore year is over, hopefully I finish haikyuu and I can start to write on haikyuu.
Warning ﹕college au , fingering , edging , orgasm denial , degradation , semi-public sex , mild choking
This was so fucking embarrassing. No—forget embarrassing. It was humiliating.
It was the third time this week.
The third time you’d found yourself sitting at the back of your professor’s lecture, cheeks flushed red, legs pressed tightly together in a futile attempt to ease the throbbing ache between them. Your mind drifting to thoughts that had no place in a classroom.
The thoughts in question? Nothing too innocent. Just your brain replaying the memory of a certain smug blonde bastard bending you over his desk like a cheap whore, and pounding that dripping pussy raw from behind.
The echoes of your pathetic sobs and broken pleas for mercy still rang in your ears—mixed with the wet, obscene sound of his hips slapping against your ass. You squeezed your thighs harder, feeling a fresh gush of slick soak your panties as your face flushed even hotter.
A frustrated sigh slipped from your lips as your eyes dropped to the notebook in front of you. It had remained untouched since the start of the lecture. Only the date and today’s topic stared back at you mockingly, as if reminding you that all that “studying” you’d been doing with Tsukishima was anything but academic.
Because instead of helping you with your weakest subjects, Kei had spent most of the time balls-deep in your cunt, fucking your brains out until you couldn’t even remember your own name.
He loved belittling you while he did it too—calling you his dumb little cockslut, mocking how the only thing you seemed to understand anymore was how to take his thick cock like a good girl instead of actually passing your classes.
And those long, slender fingers of his… the ones that always made your pussy flutter no matter what they were doing… they’d wrap so perfectly around your throat, squeezing just tight enough to make your greedy walls clamp down on his dick even harder.
Fuck. It left you weak in the knees every single time.
But who could really blame you? He was just that damn good at dicking you down. If anyone else knew what you got to experience on a daily basis, they’d probably understand. Not that you’d ever let them find out. Over your dead body. You weren’t quite set on sharing just yet.
Just as your mind started spiralling deeper into those dirty thoughts, the loud ring of the bell snapped you out of it, signalling the end of the lecture. You let out a shaky sigh of relief and started packing up your things.
Until your professor’s cold voice cut through the room:
“Stay behind for a moment.”
Yeah. you were totally fucked now.
The conversation that followed was exactly as painful as you’d feared. Your professor spoke firmly, almost coldly, pointing out your obvious lack of attention in his class and the sudden drop in your grades. You barely registered the rest of what he said. The only part that really stuck was his final warning: get your head out of the clouds and start paying attention again.
Which brought you to now—sitting at the back of the campus library with the exact person who’d been plaguing your filthy thoughts even worse than usual.
Books were spread out in front of you, a few highlighters and sticky notes scattered around, your pen gripped tightly in your trembling hand as you let out a loud, frustrated groan.
“Ugh… I don’t fucking get any of this shit.”
You grumbled, letting your head drop heavily onto the table in defeat.
Kei sat beside you, watching with that signature shit-eating grin plastered across his stupidly handsome face. You’d specifically told him you wanted to actually study this time—no messing around. He’d just shrugged with that infuriating smirk and muttered a lazy “Sure.”
“Tsukki… please be a decent human being and explain this to me…” You turned your head to look at him, eyes taking in how focused he appeared. “You’re smart. You’d get this way better than I do.”
He hummed softly, resting his cheek on his palm as he stared down at you with that unreadable expression.
“Why? Because you’re slow?”
You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Hah! You wish. Need I remind you I’m doing great in all my other classes?”
A proud little smirk tugged at your lips.
“Right,” he drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like your professor didn’t just tell you you’re failing his class.”
“I’m not failing! My grades are just slipping, that’s all…”
“Right. So, technically failing.”
“Shut the hell up.”
You scoffed and sat up straighter, running a hand through your hair, annoyance clear on your face. “So, are you gonna help me or not?”
He smirked wider, his free hand patting his lap invitingly.
You deadpanned, letting out a heavy sigh. “Are you already forgetting what I said? We’re not doing this today, Kei. Come on.”
You muttered, looking back down at your notes. You heard the soft click of his tongue.
“Come on, don’t be so difficult. Just come sit on my lap.”
You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously before sighing in defeat. “Fine. But no funny business.”
Yeah, right. Like that promise was ever going to last.
You stood up slowly and lowered yourself onto his lap, your notebook still in front of you, pen in hand. “Alright, Mr. Know-It-All. Help me.”
Kei leaned forward immediately, his broad chest pressing firmly against your back. His hot breath ghosting over your ear as his large hand slid down to rest on your thigh, rubbing slow, teasing circles that felt far too innocent for him.
But you knew better. Nothing with Tsukishima was ever innocent.
Your breath hitched sharply, your body tensing as heat flooded between your legs.
“… Kei…” you whimpered pathetically.
His low chuckle vibrated against your back.
“What? I’m not doing anything… yet,” he murmured, voice dark and filthy in your ear.
Before you could protest, his long, slender fingers slipped under your skirt, casually pushing your soaked panties to the side. Without warning, he slid two thick fingers deep into your dripping cunt, curling them perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you.
“Just don’t mind me…” he whispered teasingly, pumping his fingers slowly, stretching your tight, gummy walls. “Only keep those pretty eyes focused on that textbook of yours…”
You couldn’t focus on the textbook in front of you no matter how hard you tried. Your hands trembled pathetically, barely able to grip the pen as your eyes glazed over with unshed tears from the overwhelming pleasure of Tsukishima’s long fingers stretching your dripping cunt so perfectly.
A broken gasp slipped from your lips when he slid a third finger inside you, slowly sinking into your soaked, greedy walls. Your back arched sharply, another needy whine escaping before you could stop it. Tsukishima drank in the sight of you struggling to stay quiet, his golden eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction as your thighs quivered violently and your hips bucked desperately against his hand with every slow, deliberate thrust.
You were trying—god, you were really trying—to keep quiet.
But Tsukishima had no intention of letting you succeed.
He curled his fingers with cruel precision, stroking that spongy, sensitive spot deep inside you until a deep, throaty whine tore from your chest. A low, breathy chuckle rumbled against your ear as he leaned in closer, pressing his chest flush against your back. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his voice dropping into a sinful, velvet whisper.
“Come on now, gorgeous…” he purred, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You know you need to focus, don’t you?”
You whimpered helplessly, your pussy clenching greedily around his invading fingers. Your entire body tensed as he pushed even deeper, grinding the heel of his palm firmly against your swollen clit. Your mouth fell open in a silent, desperate cry, breath hitching in your throat.
“You wouldn’t want your professor failing you,” he murmured, voice thick with mocking amusement, “just because your tiny little brain can’t concentrate with my fingers buried knuckle-deep in your messy cunt, hmm?”
His pace was torturously slow and teasing, deliberately bringing you right to the edge of ecstasy only to pull you back again and again. The wet, obscene sounds of your arousal echoed softly in the room—filthy, slick, and shameless.
Your head lolled back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you surrendered to the relentless pleasure he was forcing upon you.
Tsukishima’s free hand slid up your body, long fingers wrapping possessively around your throat—not squeezing, just holding you in place, a silent reminder of who was in control. He nipped at your earlobe, then soothed the sting with his tongue.
“Listen to how wet you are,” he whispered hotly, deliberately pumping his fingers a little faster so the lewd squelching sounds grew louder. “You’re making such a mess… and all because of three fingers? Pathetic.”
broken sob of pleasure escaped you as he suddenly scissored his fingers wide, stretching you open even more. Your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing the friction you so desperately needed.
He laughed softly, the sound dark and mocking. “Look at you. Can’t even sit still. How are you going to pass this class if you can’t stop creaming all over my hand?”
You tried to protest, to tell him you were trying, but all that came out was a high-pitched moan when he curled his fingers again, pressing hard against that perfect spot while his palm continued its merciless grind against your throbbing clit.
Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your belly, burning hotter with every thrust. Your thighs shook uncontrollably, muscles clenching as you teetered right on the edge once more. Just as you felt the first tremors of release beginning to crash over you, Tsukishima slowed his movements to an agonizing crawl, barely moving his fingers at all.
A frustrated cry tore from your throat. “K-Kei… please—”
“Please what?” he taunted, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your neck. His breath was hot against your flushed skin. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what this needy little pussy wants.”
You whimpered, too far gone to feel any shame. “Please… let me cum. I can’t— I need it—”
He hummed thoughtfully, as if considering your plea, while continuing those shallow, unsatisfying thrusts that kept you dangling painfully on the brink.
“Mmm… I don’t know,” he drawled, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “You still haven’t read a single page. Maybe if you can recite the next paragraph without moaning like a whore, I’ll think about it.”
His fingers gave one firm, deep thrust, punching the air from your lungs.
“Or maybe…” He leaned in even closer, lips brushing your ear as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, “I’ll just keep edging this sloppy cunt until you’re crying and begging so prettily that everyone in the library can hear how much of a desperate slut you are for me.”
Your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers at his filthy words, another flood of arousal gushing out around his hand. Tsukishima groaned softly in approval, finally starting to move again—still torturously slow, but with just enough pressure to make your vision blur with overwhelming pleasure.
Then, finally. he gave it to you.
He thrusted his fingers in hard and fast, curling them perfectly—and you broke.
Your back arched sharply, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. Your walls fluttered wildly around his fingers at the filthy words still echoing in your mind, another flood of arousal gushing out around his hand. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, hips grinding helplessly down on his fingers as your body convulsed with pleasure.
Tsukishima groaned lowly behind you, the sound deep and almost proud, as he kept his fingers buried deep inside your fluttering cunt, drawing out every last tremor.
“Look at you…” he muttered, slowly pulling his slick fingers out, deliberately watching the way your thighs twitched and your pussy clenched around nothing. “You made such a fucking mess.”
He clicked his tongue, holding up his glistening fingers with a smug grin.
“Just had to cum all over my hand like that, didn’t you?”
He gently rubbed your back, almost mockingly sweet, like he hadn’t just fingered you into a blubbering mess in the middle of the goddamn library.
It was safe to say the only lesson you walked out with… was how Tsukishima's fingers were way more skilled than any professor’s lecture could ever be.
Fr𖹭m yours truly ﹕my brain fucking hurts jst by staring at this, i cant even be bothered to explain to u all how much I love Tuskishima and how hes my husband and shit BC of how long this took me. im telling you ive proof read it over 10 whole times (not kidding by the way I always always ALWAYS proof read my work more than once jst in case) but literally gave up by the time I reached the end ao ykw if it doesnt make sense half way through jst know I gave up and couldn't be asked to go back and change it honestly ts took me and embarrassingly long time (it took me a day and a half to finish) since it was an adaption of one of my other works from a diff platform. But enough of me bitching jst know that I rlly did try with this....
Hiiii!!!! How do you think wakatoshi reacts when reader wears his favorite lace set, and sends pics to him because he had complained that he missed her and his teammates were kinda annoying , (they’re married, also is it possible to have reader be a black fem, no biggie if not!!).
AGAJSVDKSKKKK WAKATASOSHI YESS YES YESSSS.
USHIJIMA X BLACK READER
18+|| MDNI
CW: it's mainly suggestive no explicit sex
It had been a day since you spoke to ushijima due to his flight and busy practice schedule you've only had the time to text on and off but finally he had some free time to talk even though it was super late in his time zone.
"Missed you" he says his voice relaxed with that strong baritone you know him for.
"Aww 'toshi, but you're there with your teammates having fun"
"They're so annoying especially Kageyama, they could never compare to you"
Wakatoshi has always been very straight forward with everything no matter what, if he misses you it's nothing else besides that and he means it plainly, and you absolutely love him for that.
"Tell me what you've been doing, I don't want to talk about them anymore than I have to"
"Hahaha, nothing much really I just went shopping picked up a few things here and there"
"Hmm like what? " his voice has a curious but teasing tone to it
"Just clothes, perfumes, skin care and hair care you know and maybe I stopped by Victoria secret who knows"
You hear the sheets shuffle like he's moving from a laid down position to a seated on
"Really busy whilst I'm gone, don't you want to do a haul unboxing for me wifey"
"Okay switching to face time" you pan the camera to a stack of shopping bags and boxes. Going full influencer mode.
"─and I love this new body glow oil I found like it's so shimmer and moisturizing, doesn't it look so good on my skin 'Toshi?"
"Mhm it's so pretty and glowy"
The entire conversation was filled with you excitedly explaining all the new products and restocks you got like how the new Shea butter cream you got is so amazing for your curls and just makes it shine so well, and how you got this new vanilla scented perfume oil, and the new pair of heels you got and the entire time he was listening giving you attentive nods and hmms and ohhs with a side of that's so good, so pretty, amazing love and it looks perfect on you.
After that you were left with one final bag the Victoria secret one.
"Last but not the least HER"
"Finally."
"You know what cause of that you don't get to see anything, good night sir"
You end the call abruptly, he immediately starts apologizing in your dms you feign disinterest just to rile him up already plotting a perfect present for him.
The next day you plan everything right, putting on the shea butter cream to add and extra sheen to your hair, using the body glow oils to really make you chocolate skin glow just right in the sun, putting on his favorite lip combo shade and finally the perfect olive green lingerie that matched his eyes perfectly, you got them to replace the previous set he ripped when eating you out.
The color looked so good on your skin the shade standing out against your darker complexion. You were posed on the bed getting perfect angles just for him knowing damn well the hell about to break loose when you were done.
*sent*
"The last bag btw do you like it? "
[image]
Ushijima was in the middle of a water break when his phone dinged and he noticed it was text from you, he felt so relieved you reached to him, when he clicked on the text that relaxation turned to a hot flush running down his entire body, his hand gripping his water bottle was white from how much he was gripping it.
In the picture you were standing with the camera tilted upwards, his eyes trailed from your shapely legs wrapped in a gather belt, to the lace panties wrapped around your hips, then along your stomach, and the lacey bra gripping your tits perfectly and lastly on you face that had an expression of want and need "fuck it's green" it's like finally registered to him what color- no who's color you were covered in.
Just recovering from that one picture and you kept spamming him for the rest of the day with angles from in between your legs, to down your cleavage and you with his pillow between your legs.
Just to say maybe he got way more than he bargained for and was hard the entire practice game
Why can't I stfu when given a simple prompt.
Hope you like it and thank you so much for the ask especially cos it's ushijima 😭😭😭
Hiiii!!!! How do you think wakatoshi reacts when reader wears his favorite lace set, and sends pics to him because he had complained that he missed her and his teammates were kinda annoying , (they’re married, also is it possible to have reader be a black fem, no biggie if not!!).
AGAJSVDKSKKKK WAKATASOSHI YESS YES YESSSS.
USHIJIMA X BLACK READER
18+|| MDNI
CW: it's mainly suggestive no explicit sex
It had been a day since you spoke to ushijima due to his flight and busy practice schedule you've only had the time to text on and off but finally he had some free time to talk even though it was super late in his time zone.
"Missed you" he says his voice relaxed with that strong baritone you know him for.
"Aww 'toshi, but you're there with your teammates having fun"
"They're so annoying especially Kageyama, they could never compare to you"
Wakatoshi has always been very straight forward with everything no matter what, if he misses you it's nothing else besides that and he means it plainly, and you absolutely love him for that.
"Tell me what you've been doing, I don't want to talk about them anymore than I have to"
"Hahaha, nothing much really I just went shopping picked up a few things here and there"
"Hmm like what? " his voice has a curious but teasing tone to it
"Just clothes, perfumes, skin care and hair care you know and maybe I stopped by Victoria secret who knows"
You hear the sheets shuffle like he's moving from a laid down position to a seated on
"Really busy whilst I'm gone, don't you want to do a haul unboxing for me wifey"
"Okay switching to face time" you pan the camera to a stack of shopping bags and boxes. Going full influencer mode.
"─and I love this new body glow oil I found like it's so shimmer and moisturizing, doesn't it look so good on my skin 'Toshi?"
"Mhm it's so pretty and glowy"
The entire conversation was filled with you excitedly explaining all the new products and restocks you got like how the new Shea butter cream you got is so amazing for your curls and just makes it shine so well, and how you got this new vanilla scented perfume oil, and the new pair of heels you got and the entire time he was listening giving you attentive nods and hmms and ohhs with a side of that's so good, so pretty, amazing love and it looks perfect on you.
After that you were left with one final bag the Victoria secret one.
"Last but not the least HER"
"Finally."
"You know what cause of that you don't get to see anything, good night sir"
You end the call abruptly, he immediately starts apologizing in your dms you feign disinterest just to rile him up already plotting a perfect present for him.
The next day you plan everything right, putting on the shea butter cream to add and extra sheen to your hair, using the body glow oils to really make you chocolate skin glow just right in the sun, putting on his favorite lip combo shade and finally the perfect olive green lingerie that matched his eyes perfectly, you got them to replace the previous set he ripped when eating you out.
The color looked so good on your skin the shade standing out against your darker complexion. You were posed on the bed getting perfect angles just for him knowing damn well the hell about to break loose when you were done.
*sent*
"The last bag btw do you like it? "
[image]
Ushijima was in the middle of a water break when his phone dinged and he noticed it was text from you, he felt so relieved you reached to him, when he clicked on the text that relaxation turned to a hot flush running down his entire body, his hand gripping his water bottle was white from how much he was gripping it.
In the picture you were standing with the camera tilted upwards, his eyes trailed from your shapely legs wrapped in a gather belt, to the lace panties wrapped around your hips, then along your stomach, and the lacey bra gripping your tits perfectly and lastly on you face that had an expression of want and need "fuck it's green" it's like finally registered to him what color- no who's color you were covered in.
Just recovering from that one picture and you kept spamming him for the rest of the day with angles from in between your legs, to down your cleavage and you with his pillow between your legs.
Just to say maybe he got way more than he bargained for and was hard the entire practice game
Why can't I stfu when given a simple prompt.
Hope you like it and thank you so much for the ask especially cos it's ushijima 😭😭😭
Everyone thought Oikawa Tōru was a playboy. It made sense.
He was handsome, ridiculously popular, always surrounded by squealing girls, and flirted like breathing was a competitive sport. Rumors followed him everywhere—stories about dates, confessions, heartbreaks. Half of them weren’t even true, but Oikawa never bothered correcting anyone. It was easier to laugh dramatically and move on.
So naturally, when Oikawa Tōru actually fell in love for real… it became a complete disaster.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO ASK HER OUT?!” Iwaizumi’s yell echoed through the empty gym.
Oikawa sat sprawled dramatically across the bench, clutching a volleyball to his chest like he was in a tragic romance movie. “Iwa-chan, lower your voice! This is a sensitive matter!”
“You flirt with girls every day.”
“That’s DIFFERENT!” Oikawa cried. “That’s easy! This is serious! This is terrifying!”
Iwaizumi stared at him like he’d grown another head. “You’re telling me the guy who winks at cashiers is panicking over one girl?”
Oikawa slowly lowered the volleyball from his face. His expression became strangely genuine. Soft. Nervous. “…Because it’s her.”
And somehow, that shut Iwaizumi up for exactly three seconds. “…Still pathetic though.”
“Iwa-chan!”
The truth was, Oikawa didn’t know what had happened to him.
Maybe it started during lunch breaks, when you absentmindedly handed him half your milk bread because you noticed him staring. Maybe it was when you scolded him for overworking himself without sounding impressed by his talent like everyone else did. Or maybe it was the terrifying realization that your attention mattered more to him than winning arguments, fan attention, or even his stupid pride.
Whatever it was, he was doomed. Completely doomed.
Because suddenly, Oikawa Tōru—smooth talker, captain of Aoba Johsai, self-proclaimed ladies’ man—couldn’t even say good morning properly around you anymore.
“Y/N-chan!” he greeted one morning in class, dramatically sliding into the seat beside you. “You look beautiful today—”
Then your eyes met his. And he immediately choked on air. “—I MEAN NORMAL. You look NORMAL today. Not that you’re usually ugly! WAIT—”
Hanamaki nearly fell out of his chair laughing. Matsukawa looked genuinely concerned. “Did someone hit him in the head with a volleyball?”
Meanwhile, you blinked slowly while chewing your snack. “…Are you okay?”
“No,” Oikawa whispered weakly. “Not anymore.”
It only got worse from there.
He started rehearsing imaginary confessions in the mirror.
He googled “how to ask a girl out naturally” at two in the morning.
He borrowed romance manga from Hanamaki and immediately regretted it because now he was comparing himself to fictional male leads.
And worst of all—he started pestering Iwaizumi nonstop.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered dramatically during practice. “What if she says no?”
“Then move on.”
“But what if she hates me afterward?”
“She won’t.”
“But what if she thinks I’m annoying?”
“You are annoying.”
Oikawa collapsed to the floor. “I’m doomed…”
“Get up, Trashykawa.”
But despite all his dramatics, everyone noticed the difference.
Because when Oikawa flirted before, it was effortless. Playful. Meaningless. With you, though?
He became careful. Terrified.
He remembered every little thing you said. He carried extra snacks because you liked them. He walked slower so you could keep up beside him. He’d casually brag about his serves one second, then short-circuit completely if you praised him too sincerely.
And whenever you smiled at him? God.
He looked like he’d seen heaven itself.
One evening after practice, Iwaizumi found Oikawa sitting alone outside the gym, staring at his phone with the expression of a man moments away from cardiac arrest.
“What now?” Iwaizumi asked tiredly.
Oikawa slowly turned the screen around.
A single text from you glowed on it.
“Thanks for waiting for me today :)”
Iwaizumi stared. “…And?”
“She used a smiley face.”
“…You’re unbelievable.”
“She used a smiley face, Iwa-chan.”
And that was when Iwaizumi realized something horrifying: Oikawa Tōru was genuinely, hopelessly in love.
Not in the dramatic fake way people assumed.
Not in the shallow playboy way rumors painted him to be.
No—this was worse. Because the great Oikawa Tōru had turned into the most embarrassing lovesick idiot alive. And honestly? It was the realest anyone had ever seen him.
A/n: Here is that smut I promised about Aang's tatto's glowing during sex
The room is dim, lantern light low and warm, but it was not the flame that catches your attention.
It’s him.
Aang’s tattoos are glowing.
Soft at first, just a faint shimmer along the blue arrows that trace his skin, but with every breath, every movement of his body against yours, the light pulses a little brighter.
Alive.
You’re beneath him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your pussy warm and tight around his cock as he moves slowly, trying, failing, to keep himself grounded.
Aang exhales shakily, his forehead dropping close to yours as his hips roll forward again, pressing deeper into you.
The glow flickers brighter and you notice immediately. Your hands slide up his arms, over his shoulders, tracing the faint light along his skin as your lips part in a soft breath.
“…Aang.”
He hums quietly, distracted, too focused on the way your body keeps tightening around him.
“Yeah?”
Your fingers brush along the arrow on his bicep, following the glow as it pulses again.
“You’re glowing.”
That gets his attention, his eyes flicker open.
“What?”
You smile softly, still breathless, your hips shifting just enough to make him inhale sharply as your pussy squeezes him again.
“Your tattoos…”
You trace them again, your touch slow, reverent.
“They’re glowing.”
Aang stills for half a second then his face turns red, the tips of his years red. “Oh—”
Your smile widens as you roll your hips slowly, deliberately.
The glow pulses brighter as his breath stutters as his fingers clutched your hips .“…that’s....that’s not—”
You tilt your head, looking up at him with soft amusement, your fingers still tracing the light across his skin. “Beautiful.”
That is what breaks him.
“Aang,” you whisper again, your voice warm, teasing but gentle as your hips move beneath him, “you’re beautiful.”
He groans as his head drops briefly to your shoulder, his body pressing closer to yours as his hands tighten at your hips.
“You don’t.... you don’t need to say it like that,” he mutters, voice strained.
You laugh softly, your breath brushing his ear. “Why not?”
Your pussy tightens around his cock again.
The glow flares.
He gasps. “Because you know what that does—”
You move again.
Slow, with a roll of your hips as the motion drags a broken sound from his throat as his hips push forward instinctively, his cock pressing deeper into your pussy.
“Oh—”
“There it is,” you murmur softly, smiling as you feel his body react, “it gets brighter when you feel good.”
“That’s not..... that’s not—”
He can’t finish the sentence.
Your fingers glide along the arrow on his bicep then trailed down his back, following the glow as it pulses in time with his movements.
“It’s pretty,” you say, almost dreamily.
He lifts his head, eyes meeting yours, still flushed, still completely undone. “It’s not supposed to..to do this—”
You lean up slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as your arms wrapped around your neck. “It does now.”
Your hips roll again, the glow pulses brighter as his breath breaks.
“Aang—” His name comes out softer this time, less teasing and more wanting now and that shift hits him harder than anything else.
His hands slide from your hips up your sides, gripping just enough to pull you closer as he leans down, his mouth finding yours again in a deeper kiss.
And when he moves this time, he stops holding back.
His hips drive forward, deeper, stronger, his cock pushing into your pussy with more urgency now, the rhythm no longer careful, no longer restrained.
The glow along his tattoos brightens with every movement.
Soft blue light spilling across your skin, illuminating both of you in a way that makes your breath catch.
“Aang....” you gasp, your fingers tightening against his shoulders.
He groans into your mouth, the sound low and overwhelmed as his control slips further. “You keep saying that...” he breathes, voice rough, “and I’m not going to be able to....”
You roll your hips again on purpose as you dug your nails into his shoulders. “Don’t stop,” you whisper.
That’s all it takes.
The Avatar state doesn’t fully take him but the energy is there, just under the surface, feeding into the intensity of his movements as his body reacts fully now, his cock pressing deep inside your pussy again and again.
Your legs tighten around him, your breath breaks as the glow pulses brighter.
Hear me out.... What if... What if Enjin and pregnant s/o? This came up in my mind I don't know why... I MEAN I KNOW THAT ENJIN PROBABLY WONT LIKE TO HAVE THEIR S/O PREGNANT. If this is impossible then maybe Enjin with a pregnant friend or smth.... THIS CAME UP IN MY MIND SUDDENLY PLEASE DONT JUDGE ME
NO MORE DANGER
☂︎ ENJIN X READER
☂︎ SYNPOSIS: Enjin's practically glued to his girls side at the beginning stages of her pregnancy, trying to do everything for her
☂︎ WORD COUNT: 0.6K
☂︎ CONTENT WARNING: slice of life? kinda silly
☂︎ honestly had no idea what i wrote but i think it works
☂︎ THIS WORK BELONGS TO AN 18+ BLOG, PLEASE HAVE AN AGE INDICATOR ON YOUR BLOG IF YOU CHOOSE TO FOLLOW
Being pregnant, so far, was easy-ish. Sure Y/n had some morning sickness and pain with it but nothing crazy. Nothing Enjin needed to fret over for no reason.
For someone who claimed to not like kids, he sure as hell didn't mind becoming a dad, literally this time. Not one he picked up off the street.
“Move, I’ll finish,” Enjin told her in the kitchen as she was making but off then breakfast, which then turned into her feeding Zanka, Riyo, and Rudo too.
“I don't trust you,” Y/n told him as she blocked him from taking the skillet away from her.
“You should be resting,”
“Yeah I don’t know how much I trust Enjin to cook.” Riyo said
“Feels like we might get food poisoning,” Zanka added
“I’m not that bad,” Enjin said
“You burned my pickles wrapped in bacon last night.”
“I still question that food choice.”
“Get out of the kitchen.” Y/n told him
“Fine fine,” Enjin said and stood on the other side of the counter with the teens.
After a few more minutes the food was ready.
“Is there chocolate on the bacon?” Zanka asked
“And what's in the pancakes?” Riyo asked, as Y/n was already eating
“Salted carrots. shut up and eat it or get out,” Y/n told them
“It's actually really good,” Rudo said
“You’ll just eat anything dude,” Enjin said
“Rudo's my new favorite,” Y/n said as she enjoyed the food she made
“I thought I was your favorite?” Riyo said
“No I’m her favorite,” Enjin argued
“Huh, its actually not to bad,” Zanka said as he eyed the bacon
The other two took bite of the food and were surprised. “Damn. Maybe we should let your pregnancy cravings control the kitchen more,” Riyo said
“I don't know about that,” Enjin was still skeptical
“First you ban me from missions now I can't enjoy my cooking?” Y/n said
“This is why your not her favorite,” Zanka said
“Hey!” Enjin yelled
“Don’t you know its not cool to crap on a pregnant ladies cravings?” Riyo asked
“You were doing the same thing!”
“Uh… Y/n can i have more of the bacon?” Rudo asked
“Yeah, go ahead. Did you eat the pancakes too?”
“Look at you already being a mom,” Enjin cooed
“Pick up the slack on being a dad,” Y/n dead panned him
Y/n made the older man clean up for her after the kid finished their food and headed off while she enjoyed her meal. “Pancake?” Y/n asked as Enjin walked over and stood between her legs while she was sat on the counter.
“You need it more than me,” The blond said as she happily ate the piece she offered him
“You know I can still do missions right. Didn't have to put me on leave yet. Even if I'm just talking to people. I'm not even showing.”
“Not happening. If you wanna fight something you can hit me. I'm not letting anything happen to this little guy.” Enjin smiled
“How do you know it's a boy? What if we have a girl?”
“Its a figure of speech babe.”
“Do you want a boy more than a girl?”
“I want a healthy baby.”
“Answer my question Enjin.”
The blond sighed. He knew there was no winning against her now. “How about we take a nap?”
“Son or daughter, what do you want?”
Enjin just picked her up and walked to their room. “Hey!” Y/n yelled at him
🗨️ ͝♡ ︎ ֹ ︎ ܸ ︎ favourite season : rainy 𖬺𖬺 spring
🗨️ ͝♡ ︎ ֹ ︎ ܸ ︎ favourite book series : the naturals 𖬺𖬺 scum villain’s self-saving system
🗨️ ͝♡ ︎ ֹ ︎ ܸ ︎ favourite fictional characters : a lot... so i’ll just list a few: luffy, michael townsend, spencer reid, senku ishigami, tim drake, jason todd, keith kogane, malleus draconia, maomao, frieren, ivan, shigaraki tomura, etc
.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟. Thank you thank you thank you for the tag vie!! sending lots of love!!!
—𓇼𓂃 ོ name : rory/riri
—𓇼𓂃 ོ zodiac : geminis
—𓇼𓂃 ོ hogwarts house : Gryffindor
—𓇼𓂃 ོ height : 5’3 (160 cm)
—𓇼𓂃 ོ orientation : Heterosexual
—𓇼𓂃 ོ ethnicity : Mixed heritatge (primarily Maghrebi (Moroccan/Arab-Berber) heritage, with significant West African (Senegalese) descent)
—𓇼𓂃 ོ favourite fruit : mango , watermelon and green grapes !
—𓇼𓂃 ོ favorite season : summer & autumn!! But mostly summer
—𓇼𓂃 ོ favorite book series : PERCY JACKSONNN!!! and independent book The outsiders!
—𓇼𓂃 ོ favorite fictional characters : (a few of) Annabeth chase, Carmen Sandiego, Kat stratford, Megara from hercules, Tiana from Tiana and the Frog,Belle,Jasmine,Anastasia,Pocahontas....the list goes on and on...
—𓇼𓂃 ོ favorite scent : sweet and frutal for summer such as Mango Yara by Yara and sweet and vanilla for winter such as Free by Yves Saint Laurent or Coco Vanille by Mencire
—𓇼𓂃 ོ favorite animals : felines & swans
—𓇼𓂃 ོ favorite band / artist :My holy trinity (Michael Jackson , Sade & Beyoncé) hn: Frank Ocean,Tyler, The creator , ABBA, etc.
—𓇼𓂃 ོ coffee, tea, or hot cocoa : Ice Tea, Atay, Coffee , Moccha & Oreo Milkshake
—𓇼𓂃 ོ average sleep hours : I would say in between 6-9 hours
—𓇼𓂃 ོ number of blankets you sleep with : Now in summer with 1,in winter up to 3 blankets
—𓇼𓂃 ོ dream trip : I hove lot's of dream places,but currently i would say Bielorrusia,Greece,Hawaii and Italy (again...yes...)
—𓇼𓂃 ོ last thing googled : ''Are Steve Wonder & Michael Jackson cousins?''
—𓇼𓂃 ོ account created : @fromrory (previously xoxorory) in march 2025, and @roriesdiary in september 2025
—𓇼𓂃 ོ how many blogs followed : 253
—𓇼𓂃 ོ number of followers : @fromrory 2,390 at the moment, and @roriesdiary 14
—𓇼𓂃 ོ what you usually post about : : yapping, essays, Fanfics, and yapping hehehe
—𓇼𓂃 ོ do you get asks regularly : i would say yeah???
—𓇼𓂃 ོ what’s your aesthetic :idk,maybe girly,clean,romatic,,,thought daughter??
🦢℘ - name: nawal (my nickname yall can call me)
🦢℘ - zodiac: virgo *september*
🦢℘ - hogwarts house: ravenclaw
🦢℘ - height: 5'10 1/2 (179 cm)
🦢℘ - orientation: straight/heterosexual
🦢℘ - ethnicity: East African ( Somali & Kenyan )
🦢℘ - favorite fruit: Mango, Watermelon, Strawberries, Bananas
🦢℘ - favorite season: spring & fall
🦢℘ - favorite book series: Twisted Series (i don't have a lot time to read)
🦢℘ - favorite fictional characters (few I can name hehe): Wonder Woman, Cat Woman, Vixen, Sakura Haruno, Geto Suguru, Tiana (princess and the frog), Mulan, Jasmine, Aisha (winx)..
🦢℘ - favorite flowers: lotus, lilies, hydrangeas
🦢℘ - favorite animals: cats (all of them tigers etc), turtles, sea horses, bunnies, orcas, birds
🦢℘ - favorite scent: sweet and fruity, vanilla bean, floral, (honorable mention: yara prefume)
🦢℘ - favorite band/singers: (here are a few of my fav singers): Michael Jackson, Beyonce, Sade, Victoria Monet, Doechii, Megan Thee Stallion, Ariana Grande, Halle & Chloe Bailey, Mariah Carey, Tupac, Rihanna, Tyla, Sza (here a few of my fav bands): New jeans, Skz, Enhypen, TXT
🦢℘ - coffee, tea, or hot cocoa: matcha, lemonade, boba, or oreo milkshakes (I LOVE OREOS)
🦢℘ - average sleeping hours: 5-8
🦢℘ - number of blankets you sleep with: summer (1) winter (2)
🦢℘ - dream trip: Europe (etc.), Spain, Greece, New york, Japan, Korea, Mogadishu
🦢℘ - last thing googled: "dua to say before exam"
🦢℘ - acc created: @myauraisperrywinkle
🦢℘ - how many blogs followed: 370
🦢℘ - number of followers: 65
🦢℘ - what do you post about usually: fanfics, reblogs of arts, stories
🦢℘ - do you get asked regularly: sum times but not really
🦢℘ - what's your aesthetic: ONLINE: Marine core (my blog lol im changing it soon hehe), IRL: pink, y2k, lover girl (i love doing OOTD on tt)
thanks for tag <33
(lmk if you wanna be tagged)taglist: @katarasdoll @msdaizydoll @alexvolkovsgirl
Hiiiiii,my request is that reader is a non bender and feel bad about that so she distanced her self from her husband Aang, she doesn’t talk to him for some hours and then goes missing . Aang worried doesn’t eat or sleep until he finds her a week later and they cry and make up,reader apologizing for leaving . Thank you!!!!
You Are My Home
╰┈➤ pairing: Aang x female! reader
a/n: this is such a good request! I was getting very emotinallll lolll
summary: After insecurity over being a nonbender drives you to leave, Aang spends a devastating week searching for you before finally finding you in a distant coastal village and breaking down in relief when he realizes you’re alive.
wc: 3.7k
contains: hurt/comfort, emotional insecurity, nonbender reader, established relationship, marriage, separation angst, desperate reunion, crying, clingy/protective Aang, emotional dependency, comfort hugs, fear of abandonment, soft romance, heavy emotional themes, reassurance
The first few days, Aang thought you just needed space.
That was all.
Everyone had bad days.
And lately, you’d seemed quieter than usual.
More withdrawn. You smiled less. Spoke less.
Sometimes he’d catch you staring off somewhere distant while the others laughed around you. Every time he asked what was wrong, though, you always answered the same way.
“I’m fine.”
But Aang knew you better than that.
He noticed the little things. The way you stopped joining training sessions with the others. The way your smile faded whenever conversations turned toward bending or Avatar duties. The way you pulled away slightly whenever people praised him in public.
“The Avatar and his powerful friends.”
“Master benders.”
“The strongest people in the world.”
And you-
You’d just stand there quietly beside him.
Human.
Ordinary.
Nonbender.
Invisible.
Aang tried so hard to make sure you never felt lesser. Because to him?
You weren’t. Not even a little.
You were his peace.
His safest place.
The person he trusted most in the world. But lately something had shifted.
And he could feel it slipping through his fingers no matter how carefully he reached for you.
That morning had started quietly. Too quietly. Aang woke up reaching for you automatically. But your side of the bed was cold already.
He frowned slightly.
Usually you stayed tangled up with him for at least another hour. He sat up slowly.
“Baby?”
No answer.
The apartment was still. Aang found you standing outside on the balcony staring out over Republic City. The wind moved softly through your hair. You didn’t turn when he approached.
Immediately his chest tightened.
Because lately you’d been looking at him less and less.
Aang stepped beside you quietly.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Straight to it. No pretending. You stared ahead silently.
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“Yes you are.”
His voice stayed soft. Gentle.
You swallowed hard.
“I just need some space.”
“For what?”
Your chest tightened painfully. Because how could you even explain this without sounding ridiculous?
You finally looked at him and gosh. The concern in his face nearly broke you immediately.
“I’m tired of feeling useless.”
Aang blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re not useless.”
You laughed bitterly under your breath.
“Aang.”
His face fell instantly hearing that tone from you. “You’re the Avatar,” you whispered. “Your friends are some of the strongest benders in the world. Everywhere we go people admire you and them and then there’s just…” Your voice cracked slightly. “Me.”
Aang stared at you like you’d said something impossible.
“Just you?”
You looked away again quickly.
“I can’t bend. I can’t fight beside you properly anymore. I can’t help the way everyone else can.”
“Baby- ”
“And I know you’d never say it but sometimes I wonder if you regret marrying someone ordinary.”
The second the words left your mouth-
Aang looked genuinely shattered.
Like you’d physically hurt him.
“What?”
You instantly regretted saying it. But the thoughts had been building for months. Years maybe. Watching him soar through the skies while you stayed grounded.
“I know it sounds stupid- ”
“No,” Aang interrupted immediately.
His voice shook slightly now.
“No, don’t do that.”
You finally looked at him again.
And tears already filled his eyes.
“I have never regretted loving you.”
Your chest ached.
“Aang…”
“You think bending is why I love people?”
“No but- ”
“I love you.”
The emotion in his voice cracked hard.
“You think I come home exhausted every night searching for you first because you’re a bender?”
Tears burned behind your eyes immediately.
“Aang- ”
“You’re my wife.”
His voice softened then.
Quieter.
More hurt.
“And somehow you really think I’d ever look at you and see ‘less.’”
You couldn’t look at him anymore. Because part of you knew he meant every word.
But another part
The insecure part
Still whispered ugly things into your mind constantly.
You stepped back slightly.
“I just need time.”
Aang’s face fell immediately.
“…Time?”
You nodded weakly.
“I can’t do this right now.”
“Do what?”
His voice cracked again.
“Talk to me.”
That hurt him. You saw it happen in real time. But he still nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
Quiet.
Broken.
“Okay.”
---
You were gone by sunset.
No note. No warning. Nothing.
At first Aang thought maybe you went walking. Then night came. And you still weren’t back.
By midnight, panic had already started clawing at his chest.
By morning-
The entire city was searching.
Katara found him standing in your shared bedroom staring blankly at the untouched side of the bed.
“Aang.”
He looked horrible already.
Eyes bloodshot.
Still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
Katara’s heart cracked immediately.
“We’ll find her.”
But Aang barely seemed to hear her. “She wouldn’t answer anyone.”
His voice sounded distant.
“She wouldn’t even look at me.”
Days passed.
No sign of you. And Aang completely unraveled. He stopped sleeping properly first. Then eating.
No matter how much Katara or Sokka begged him. Every waking second became dedicated to finding you.
He searched villages personally. Meditated desperately trying to feel for you spiritually.
Flew across entire regions on Appa without rest. Anyone who might’ve seen you got questioned immediately.
And every single night
He came back emptier.
More exhausted.
More terrified.
By the fifth day, Toph quietly told Katara she’d never sensed Aang this emotionally unstable before.
Because underneath the exhaustion
There was fear.
Real fear.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Pure devastation.
The possibility of losing you was destroying him. “Aang,” Katara said softly one night while finding him awake again before sunrise, “you need to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“You haven’t eaten.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“She’s alive,” Katara insisted gently.
Aang finally looked up then. And the pain in his eyes nearly shattered her.
“What if she thinks I’m better off without her?”
Katara immediately moved beside him.
“She does not think that.”
“She left.”
His voice broke completely.
“She left me.”
---
It was one week later when Aang finally found you.
A tiny coastal village far from Republic City. You’d been staying in a small room above a tea shop helping the elderly owner clean and cook in exchange for somewhere to sleep.
You looked thinner.
Tired.
Miserable.
Because leaving hadn’t fixed anything.
It just made you miss him so badly it physically hurt.
That afternoon you stepped outside carrying a basket of linens.
And froze.
Appa stood at the edge of the village.
And Aang-
Aang was staring at you like he’d finally found air after drowning.
For one horrible second neither of you moved.
Then suddenly-
Aang ran.
Fast enough the wind kicked up around him.
Your basket hit the ground forgotten.
And before you could even speak-
He crashed into you.
Arms wrapping around you so tightly it stole your breath.
“Oh my gosh,” he choked out.
His entire body shook.
“You’re alive.”
Your own tears spilled instantly hearing the raw panic in his voice.
“Aang- ”
“You left.”
His voice cracked apart completely.
“You left and I couldn’t find you and I thought- ”
Emotion overwhelmed him so hard he couldn’t finish. You clung to him immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
Aang buried his face against your neck.
Actually crying now.
Real tears.
And suddenly you realized just how badly this week had destroyed him. He looked exhausted.
Thinner.
Like he hadn’t rested once.
You pulled back just enough to see his face.
“Aang…”
His eyes were red. Sunken.
“You scared me,” he whispered. The guilt hit so hard it nearly knocked the air from your lungs.
“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why would you do this?”
His voice wasn’t angry.
That somehow hurt worse. It was heartbroken. You shook your head desperately.
“I just thought maybe you deserved someone stronger- ”
Aang physically recoiled like the words hurt him.
“Stop.”
Tears spilled harder down your cheeks.
“I didn’t want to hold you back anymore.”
“You never held me back.”
His hands cupped your face desperately.
“You are my home.”
The sincerity in his voice shattered whatever walls you had left.
You sobbed openly then. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Hiiiiii,my request is that reader is a non bender and feel bad about that so she distanced her self from her husband Aang, she doesn’t talk to him for some hours and then goes missing . Aang worried doesn’t eat or sleep until he finds her a week later and they cry and make up,reader apologizing for leaving . Thank you!!!!
You Are My Home
╰┈➤ pairing: Aang x female! reader
a/n: this is such a good request! I was getting very emotinallll lolll
summary: After insecurity over being a nonbender drives you to leave, Aang spends a devastating week searching for you before finally finding you in a distant coastal village and breaking down in relief when he realizes you’re alive.
wc: 3.7k
contains: hurt/comfort, emotional insecurity, nonbender reader, established relationship, marriage, separation angst, desperate reunion, crying, clingy/protective Aang, emotional dependency, comfort hugs, fear of abandonment, soft romance, heavy emotional themes, reassurance
The first few days, Aang thought you just needed space.
That was all.
Everyone had bad days.
And lately, you’d seemed quieter than usual.
More withdrawn. You smiled less. Spoke less.
Sometimes he’d catch you staring off somewhere distant while the others laughed around you. Every time he asked what was wrong, though, you always answered the same way.
“I’m fine.”
But Aang knew you better than that.
He noticed the little things. The way you stopped joining training sessions with the others. The way your smile faded whenever conversations turned toward bending or Avatar duties. The way you pulled away slightly whenever people praised him in public.
“The Avatar and his powerful friends.”
“Master benders.”
“The strongest people in the world.”
And you-
You’d just stand there quietly beside him.
Human.
Ordinary.
Nonbender.
Invisible.
Aang tried so hard to make sure you never felt lesser. Because to him?
You weren’t. Not even a little.
You were his peace.
His safest place.
The person he trusted most in the world. But lately something had shifted.
And he could feel it slipping through his fingers no matter how carefully he reached for you.
That morning had started quietly. Too quietly. Aang woke up reaching for you automatically. But your side of the bed was cold already.
He frowned slightly.
Usually you stayed tangled up with him for at least another hour. He sat up slowly.
“Baby?”
No answer.
The apartment was still. Aang found you standing outside on the balcony staring out over Republic City. The wind moved softly through your hair. You didn’t turn when he approached.
Immediately his chest tightened.
Because lately you’d been looking at him less and less.
Aang stepped beside you quietly.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
Straight to it. No pretending. You stared ahead silently.
“I’m not avoiding you.”
“Yes you are.”
His voice stayed soft. Gentle.
You swallowed hard.
“I just need some space.”
“For what?”
Your chest tightened painfully. Because how could you even explain this without sounding ridiculous?
You finally looked at him and gosh. The concern in his face nearly broke you immediately.
“I’m tired of feeling useless.”
Aang blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re not useless.”
You laughed bitterly under your breath.
“Aang.”
His face fell instantly hearing that tone from you. “You’re the Avatar,” you whispered. “Your friends are some of the strongest benders in the world. Everywhere we go people admire you and them and then there’s just…” Your voice cracked slightly. “Me.”
Aang stared at you like you’d said something impossible.
“Just you?”
You looked away again quickly.
“I can’t bend. I can’t fight beside you properly anymore. I can’t help the way everyone else can.”
“Baby- ”
“And I know you’d never say it but sometimes I wonder if you regret marrying someone ordinary.”
The second the words left your mouth-
Aang looked genuinely shattered.
Like you’d physically hurt him.
“What?”
You instantly regretted saying it. But the thoughts had been building for months. Years maybe. Watching him soar through the skies while you stayed grounded.
“I know it sounds stupid- ”
“No,” Aang interrupted immediately.
His voice shook slightly now.
“No, don’t do that.”
You finally looked at him again.
And tears already filled his eyes.
“I have never regretted loving you.”
Your chest ached.
“Aang…”
“You think bending is why I love people?”
“No but- ”
“I love you.”
The emotion in his voice cracked hard.
“You think I come home exhausted every night searching for you first because you’re a bender?”
Tears burned behind your eyes immediately.
“Aang- ”
“You’re my wife.”
His voice softened then.
Quieter.
More hurt.
“And somehow you really think I’d ever look at you and see ‘less.’”
You couldn’t look at him anymore. Because part of you knew he meant every word.
But another part
The insecure part
Still whispered ugly things into your mind constantly.
You stepped back slightly.
“I just need time.”
Aang’s face fell immediately.
“…Time?”
You nodded weakly.
“I can’t do this right now.”
“Do what?”
His voice cracked again.
“Talk to me.”
That hurt him. You saw it happen in real time. But he still nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
Quiet.
Broken.
“Okay.”
---
You were gone by sunset.
No note. No warning. Nothing.
At first Aang thought maybe you went walking. Then night came. And you still weren’t back.
By midnight, panic had already started clawing at his chest.
By morning-
The entire city was searching.
Katara found him standing in your shared bedroom staring blankly at the untouched side of the bed.
“Aang.”
He looked horrible already.
Eyes bloodshot.
Still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.
“She’s gone,” he whispered.
Katara’s heart cracked immediately.
“We’ll find her.”
But Aang barely seemed to hear her. “She wouldn’t answer anyone.”
His voice sounded distant.
“She wouldn’t even look at me.”
Days passed.
No sign of you. And Aang completely unraveled. He stopped sleeping properly first. Then eating.
No matter how much Katara or Sokka begged him. Every waking second became dedicated to finding you.
He searched villages personally. Meditated desperately trying to feel for you spiritually.
Flew across entire regions on Appa without rest. Anyone who might’ve seen you got questioned immediately.
And every single night
He came back emptier.
More exhausted.
More terrified.
By the fifth day, Toph quietly told Katara she’d never sensed Aang this emotionally unstable before.
Because underneath the exhaustion
There was fear.
Real fear.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Pure devastation.
The possibility of losing you was destroying him. “Aang,” Katara said softly one night while finding him awake again before sunrise, “you need to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“You haven’t eaten.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“She’s alive,” Katara insisted gently.
Aang finally looked up then. And the pain in his eyes nearly shattered her.
“What if she thinks I’m better off without her?”
Katara immediately moved beside him.
“She does not think that.”
“She left.”
His voice broke completely.
“She left me.”
---
It was one week later when Aang finally found you.
A tiny coastal village far from Republic City. You’d been staying in a small room above a tea shop helping the elderly owner clean and cook in exchange for somewhere to sleep.
You looked thinner.
Tired.
Miserable.
Because leaving hadn’t fixed anything.
It just made you miss him so badly it physically hurt.
That afternoon you stepped outside carrying a basket of linens.
And froze.
Appa stood at the edge of the village.
And Aang-
Aang was staring at you like he’d finally found air after drowning.
For one horrible second neither of you moved.
Then suddenly-
Aang ran.
Fast enough the wind kicked up around him.
Your basket hit the ground forgotten.
And before you could even speak-
He crashed into you.
Arms wrapping around you so tightly it stole your breath.
“Oh my gosh,” he choked out.
His entire body shook.
“You’re alive.”
Your own tears spilled instantly hearing the raw panic in his voice.
“Aang- ”
“You left.”
His voice cracked apart completely.
“You left and I couldn’t find you and I thought- ”
Emotion overwhelmed him so hard he couldn’t finish. You clung to him immediately.
“I’m sorry.”
Aang buried his face against your neck.
Actually crying now.
Real tears.
And suddenly you realized just how badly this week had destroyed him. He looked exhausted.
Thinner.
Like he hadn’t rested once.
You pulled back just enough to see his face.
“Aang…”
His eyes were red. Sunken.
“You scared me,” he whispered. The guilt hit so hard it nearly knocked the air from your lungs.
“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why would you do this?”
His voice wasn’t angry.
That somehow hurt worse. It was heartbroken. You shook your head desperately.
“I just thought maybe you deserved someone stronger- ”
Aang physically recoiled like the words hurt him.
“Stop.”
Tears spilled harder down your cheeks.
“I didn’t want to hold you back anymore.”
“You never held me back.”
His hands cupped your face desperately.
“You are my home.”
The sincerity in his voice shattered whatever walls you had left.
You sobbed openly then. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
contains: aged up!Atsumu , ab riding, whimpering, no Y/N used in this, ab fetish,cursing, flirty atsumu (per usual), etc
read at your own risk! 18+
You two are currently lying on the couch, one leg above his, your head snuggled in between the space of his neck and shoulder, and the size difference is differencing. Atsumu is holding his phone with one arm under his head, scrolling mindlessly. Bored, you slide a hand under his shirt and feel his chiseled abs.
“sumu?”
“yeah, baby?”
“I like your abs.”
“oh really? y’wanna get a closer look on it, hm?”
IMMEDIATELY WET.
“YES.” you reply almost immediately, too fast.
“don’t complain once you start to shake, i won’t stop if ya start crying.” atsumu smirks.
he lifts up slightly on his elbows to pull his shirt up, using one hand to place the end of the shirt onto his mouth. he’s holding his shirt up with his teeth, abs flexing and his happy trail ending at the top of his boxer shorts into heaven. The sight is absolutely beautiful.
you move down to straddle his thighs and lean down with your ass in the air and chest on his waist to pepper kisses on top of his stomach, Kitten licking near his happy trail. You grab the ends of his shirt then pull up to remove his shirt. you let out a small moan when his muscles come into view while he pulls his shirt the rest of the way off. his stomach flexes when you trace your fingers over the ridges of his abs.
“stop teasin’ bae.” he grins, grabbing your waist and scooting you up from his hips to press your cotton shorts right against his abs.
“agh! atleast warn me before you do that.” you roll your eyes.
atsumu is pulling down your shorts as you speak, grabbing onto the soft plush of your ass. He moves you up slightly to pull the shorts off from your feet. your slick already wetting the shorts, strings of slick connecting you.
“fuck baby, you’re so wet.. you got this wet because of me?”
you roll your hips, whimpering when your wet pussy connects to his abs and give you that perfect friction on your clit. You place one hand in front of you and one behind to support your weight. you chase the feeling, eyes shut and whimpering. you gasp when you feel his fingertips tracing up your sides, his callused hands holding you gently. he circles your covered nipple and your pace breaks, breath getting caught as he continues his teasing.
“haaahn- s-sumu! i’m sens-mphm-sensitive there!!”
“i told you that I wouldn’t stop if you started cryin.” grinning in response.
he takes one of your nipples between his fingers, rolling it and tugging softly, smirking at the way you buck your hips. his other hand moves up, dragging a finger up the center of your throat and tracing your soft lips. In response, you take his finger in your mouth and start sucking.
your head’s feeling fuzzy, you feel the sweat dripping down your neck as you reach your breaking point. he’s talking so sweetly, touching you like you’re gonna break in just one small mistake. Then one more tug on your nipple and a flex of his abs, your hips still as you lean forward giving him the perfect view of your face as you cum. Face scrunched, eyes shut, legs shaking, and your mouth slack.
“so, wanna try out my dick next?”
“…”
a/n: sorry for the wait, i haven’t been posting since finals are coming up and stuff but i really hope you enjoy this one, ill be posting more soon, loves!
pairing: ushijima x fem!reader
synopsis: Problem: ushijima keeps getting confessions.
Problem: apparently, he has someone in mind already.
Problem: you’re hopelessly in love with him.
Solution: ?
tags: slowburn but it’s cause reader’s oblivious, “unrequited” love, childhood friends, angst (I guess. Reader crashes out a little lol), fluff
word count: 4.8k
/ᐠ ◜𖥦 ◝ マ banner art by @/hk_smith_man on twitter! author's notes at the end.
SHIRATORIZAWA IS A prestigious school—everyone knows that.
Besides the outrageous fees (seriously, a million yen already for the tuition alone—not even counting entrance fees, uniforms, dorms… hah! Shouldn’t this be considered daylight robbery?), they’re picky about who they take. Most kids you know got in through sports scholarships or recommendations. And if it wasn’t connections that got them their place, it was tremendous academic achievements.
You’ve seen it yourself—the anxious buzz that surrounds campus whenever entrance exam season rolls around, the way the local hotels get all that more busy every January. The truth of the matter is that students from all over Miyagi flock to Shiratorizawa just for the chance to attend.
Shiratorizawa is a prestigious school. It only takes the best of the best.
All that to say, with the high school being so picky about who gets to wear its colors, you’d like to argue that everyone could be considered a bit of a local celebrity in their own right. After all, you’re always brushing shoulders with rich kids and geniuses and athletes who’ll probably go pro. Even the most boring kid at Shiratorizawa is excellent in some way.
So, you think, seething silently, it would be really awesome if people could switch it up and stop confessing to the same guy!
“You’re killing your mochi,” Tendou observes, peering over your shoulder.
You blink and look down at your hand where you’ve crushed the snack—sticky, sweet red bean paste stuck between your fingers. “It was always like that.”
Tendou just digs around in his bag and hands you a wet wipe. “Like the milk bread from last week? Or the onigiri from the week before?”
You shove the remains of the rice cake in your mouth and viciously scrub your hands clean, eyes flicking back up to glare at the two students standing at the other end of the hall. “The cafeteria had it on discount.”
Tendou follows your gaze to where the last member of your little trio stands, patiently waiting for a blushing girl to hand over the chocolates she’s got behind her back and say her piece. You know her; she’s that cute soccer captain from Class 3-B. You’ve seen her around at tournaments, cheering loudly whenever Ushijima scores, and you rip the wet wipe apart in your hands because you also know exactly what she’s about to say.
“I like you, Waka-kun! Please go out with me!”
Tendou exaggerates a wince at that and sneaks a glance back at you. Your eye twitches slightly at the nickname but you stay your hand. Your mochi will be the only casualty this afternoon.
(A pity. He’d been hoping for something more drastic. He’s still got that bet going with Semi and Tendou’s been looking forward to cashing in that win for weeks now.)
It’s a bit difficult to hear exactly what Ushijima says—between the three of you, he’s always been the quiet one—but that doesn’t stop you from craning your head to listen anyway. If you concentrate, you can just make out that familiar rumble of his voice as he bows his head politely to the poor girl.
“I am sorry, but I cannot reciprocate your feelings.”
It’s not like his response is anything new—it’s all part of the same script that he follows each time another confession comes up (“I appreciate your efforts… thank you for your support…” and so on and so forth), but that doesn’t stop the small sigh of relief that escapes you anyway.
At least the worst part of this whole song and dance is over. All that’s left is for him to excuse himself from the heartbroken captain and make his way back to where the two of you are waiting. Then the three of you will walk back to your dorms together and yeah, it’ll be awkward for a second but Tendou will go and say something stupid and it’ll be shocking enough to distract you from the lingering jealousy that curls in your chest.
What’s important is that the moment will pass and you’ll be able to put this all behind you. That’s how it’s always been, and so long as Ushijima keeps turning down confessions, how it will always be. In fact, you’re already turning back to Tendou, ready to change the subject in anticipation when he shakes his head and jabs his finger back where Ushijima is still standing at the end of the hall.
“He’s still talking.”
You whirl around and watch in horror as for the first time ever, Ushijima deviates from that perfectly practiced script and says something new.
“I cannot reciprocate your feelings because I have someone in mind already.”
For all intents and purposes, Ushijima might as well have just set off a bomb. Faintly, a part of you registers that he and the soccer captain are still talking, but they might as well be speaking a different language for all you care. You’re not listening anymore. All you can hear is the ringing in your ears as you turn those three words over and over again in your head.
‘Someone in mind.’
Ushijima has feelings for someone. He’s been turning down confessions, not just because he doesn’t reciprocate, but because his heart’s already taken. By someone else. Someone who isn’t you.
You’re going to be sick. You might actually throw up.
“Tendou,” you say slowly. “Does Ushijima have a girlfriend?”
Tendou stares at you for a long time, his sharp sweeping gaze studying you with such focus, you can’t help but suddenly remember that he’s known for his otherworldly intuition, the one that lets him predict a move before you make it. The one that makes him such a monstrous opponent on the court.
It’s unnerving, seeing it turned on you all of a sudden. You’ve got half the mind to backtrack when he blinks and something clicks, some kind of understanding that dawns on him and leaves a strange sort of giddiness in his eyes when he realizes you’re serious. “Hmm. Dunnoooo. It would explain a lot, though, wouldn’t it? Some kinda secret girlfriend.”
“...I see.”
“...You’re making a really scary face right now,” Tendou says, poking at your side. “See, this is why Semi assigned us jail bail days.”
You shoot him a look, wriggling away from his relentless attack. “What? What the hell does that even mean?”
“Goshiki thinks you’re going to go to jail. He wouldn’t stop crying till Semi set up a schedule to make sure someone’s always gonna bail you out.” Tendou pauses and squints at you. “You weren’t supposed to know that part. Don’t tell him I said that.”
You wrinkle your nose, briefly distracted by the admittedly hilarious vision of Goshiki wailing at poor Semi during practice, before you shake it off. “I’m not going to jail!”
“Never hurts to be prepared,” he chirps.
You don’t bother dignifying that with a response, simply huffing when he laughs at you. Whatever. Your efforts are best spent elsewhere anyway, like in turning your attention down the hall to dig for whatever scraps of information you can get.
You see, the thing that always shocks people the most about your unorthodox friendship is when you tell them that, between the two of you, Ushijima has always been the one to wear his heart on his sleeve.
Of course, no one ever believes you. They’ll pause and their eyes will flick between the two of you standing side by side—the loud, eccentric manager and the taciturn statue beside her. But it makes perfect sense to you. Ushijima is blunt and never minces his words—it’s why you’ve had to come to his defense more than once on the playground back in primary school. Ushijima believes in saying what you mean and doing what you say. He sees no reason to pretend otherwise. Is it really that unbelievable that he would be this honest about his feelings too?
Perhaps your insight is because of your proximity to him: having grown up side by side, you know him in the same way you know that the sun will rise and set, and that hayashi rice is delicious. You can see it even now, that imperceptible shift as the tension leaves him, the way his shoulders relax and drop ever so slightly when he looks up and sees that you’re still waiting.
You’ve known Ushijima Wakatoshi since childhood. You can read him better than anyone else. This very skill that you take such pride in is how you know that, despite your wishful thinking, Ushijima has never suddenly fallen head over heels in love with you the way you have with him. You would’ve noticed the change otherwise.
So how could you have missed this? This apparent secret girlfriend of his, these feelings that he’s kept to himself all this time. He’s always with you or Tendou—so when did he find the time to fall in love without you?
Perhaps you just don’t know him as well as you thought.
Tendou blows a raspberry at the sight of your sulking. “Eh? What’s wrong with you? Not like you to give up so easily.” He pokes at your side again, exaggerating a sigh. “I thought you liked to win?”
You tense at that. While you might not have known Tendou since childhood like you have with Ushijima, the two of you have been friends long enough for you to realize when he’s up to something. It doesn’t take a genius to see through him, especially when he’s sporting that cheshire grin of his.
He’s teasing you. Goading you.
The worst part is that it’s working. Tendou’s right—you know it, and he knows you know it. You do like to win. It’s what makes you such a good manager, and it’s why Coach Washijo keeps you on the team even when your competitive nature has been a subject of debate between the two of you.
(“When I said look for weaknesses in our opponents, I meant physical ones—volleyball related ones—not that their libero was bullied in middle school!”)
Hah…fine. You can admit that Tendou has a point, even if he’s making it up for his own hidden agenda. You can’t give up this easily, not when you have something worth fighting for, right? So maybe Ushijima has feelings for someone, some kind of secret girlfriend—that’s fine! Everything’s fine! You’ve got a plan.
Clearly, there’s only one reasonable thing left to do. You can’t spend the rest of your life burying your infatuation, hoping you won’t accidentally let it slip out some day. You need to be brave and rip off the bandaid, find out the truth so you can move on. You need to confront your feelings. You’ll do it— you’ll really make a move this time.
As it turns out, it’s much easier to break into Ushijima’s room than it is to confess that you’ve been in love with him for the past year.
The door unlocks easily with a satisfying click! and you dart in, slamming the door behind you. The hallway was clear the last time you checked, but you don’t want to push your luck. For some reason, you have a feeling that the disciplinary committee won’t take “it’s not breaking-and-entering if I had a key” as a valid defense.
You slip the spare key back in your blazer, tucking it safely in your pocket as you wander around, peering curiously at every nook and cranny.
Ushijima’s room is just as neat as you remember it: textbooks organized alphabetically on his bookshelf, a few pictures on his desk, his volleyball tucked in the corner of his bed where it meets the wall. If you’re being honest, it’s always been a little too empty for your tastes: a little too minimalist, a little too boring. Though you suppose that this technically could be considered an improvement from when you were both children. At least there are pictures now.
You still remember visiting his home for the first time, wide-eyed and eager to finally see what the inside of such a grand estate would look like: something like over a dozen places to hide in hide-and-seek, a bedroom the size of your living room back home, even a swimming pool. With how large the place was, surely there must’ve been a room dedicated to volleyball—no, an entire court in there somewhere!
You also remember being disappointed when you walked in and there was decidedly no secret indoor volleyball court that he’d been hiding. You’d been right about the size of his bedroom, but it just reminded you of one of those sample rooms in those fancy magazines your mom read from time to time. A little too pretty. A little too lonely.
You’d never said anything about it, chalking the whole thing up as one of his quirks, something from his more traditional upbringing, but you did start bringing stuff over from your room to leave at his. Nothing huge—just some plushies you’d won in crane games, a few toys from gachapons, a couple drawings you’d doodled in class—but you’d sneak them in in a bulging bag and scatter them around his room when he wasn’t looking.
In hindsight, you probably weren’t very inconspicuous, being clumsy and loud and eight, but if Ushijima ever had a problem with you decorating his room, he never said anything. Every time you came back, all your baubles were still there, exactly where you left them.
Some of them are here in his door room now. Your heart does a funny flip at the sight of those cheap gachapon figures sitting on his bookshelf. It’s been years since you first bought them, and yet none of them show any signs of standard wear and tear. It’s like they’ve been handled gently all their lives.
You jump as your phone chimes loudly with your reminder that training’s about to start.
Right. No more reminiscing. You need to focus on what you’re here for: the secret girlfriend.
Realistically, you’ve only got an hour before someone’s bound to walk in. You’ve timed it perfectly—you know Ushijima’s just finished class and he’s got training next. As the manager, you don’t technically need to be there for that, so your absence shouldn’t be that suspicious. And since Tendou needs to be at training too, there’s no chance you’ll be interrupted by him either. It’s the perfect plan.
You waste no time digging through the bookshelf, rifling through textbook after textbook, drawer after drawer. Embarrassingly enough, you’re a little uncertain what to look for since you’ve never really had any admirers yourself. For whatever reason, no one’s ever really confessed to you.
It used to sting when you were younger but you’ve since learned to shrug it off. It’s not like you were an outcast during things like Valentine’s Day. Thoughtful as he is, Ushijima always bought you something. Plus, you’ve read plenty of shoujo manga before. Surely that’s pretty much the same thing.
To no one's surprise, Ushijima isn’t hiding any love letters in his math textbook. You kick at the ground when your search through his drawers comes up empty too. There’s not that many places left to look. Even though Ushijima lucked out this year and got his own private room, the dorm rooms still aren’t anything luxurious. There’s really only the closet left (which ended up just being a collection of his uniforms—boring) and whatever he keeps in the storage units.
You eye the tiny space under his desk and sigh. Well, you’re already here. No sense in doing half the job.
You shrug off your white blazer, tossing it onto the growing pile of clothes on Ushijima’s bed, and wriggle into that cramped spot underneath the desk. It’s tight and distinctly uncomfortable—you swear you can feel something digging into your shoulder and your leg—and you’re briefly granted a moment of clarity as you contemplate if any part of this, this whole adventure, is genuinely insane.
You’re this close to giving up, to swallowing your pride and pretending like you didn’t just spend half an hour searching for something that apparently—doesn’t exist—until you catch sight of something in your periphery.
There! Right there, under his desk, there’s an old box neatly tucked away in one of the dorm shelving units. At first glance, it doesn’t look like anything special, just one of those cheap plastic containers from Daiso. You and Tendou have one too—you know Tendou’s using his to keep all his Jump magazines in one place, while yours is home to a collection of your favorite guilty pleasure: romantasy manga. So unfortunately, it’s not the groundbreaking find you were looking for. You’re ready to move on, already squirming to move out of the uncomfortable position you’ve squashed yourself in except—
Except that worthless plastic container—it has Ushijima’s name on it. He’s written it down himself. You’d recognize that handwriting anywhere—you’ve seen it before, scattered around his home. His old volleyball. His first sketchbook. His father’s novels. You know better than anyone that he only does that with the things he treasures most. And if that's the case… what could possibly be in the box?
It has to be the evidence you were looking for. Something incriminating, like trinkets that belong to his secret girlfriend. There can be no other explanation for why he would need an entire container to store something so special to him.
You did it. You found what you were looking for.
So why aren’t you satisfied?
You heave a great sigh and reluctantly pull your gaze away from the familiar scrawl of Ushijima’s handwriting, crawling back out from under the desk. Should you really even be doing this? Using the spare key that Ushijima trusted you with to rummage through his stuff—is this really the right way to go about things? What would Tendou say?
He’d say to listen for anyone outside the door before you open the box, your brain supplies helpfully.
You shake your head, absentmindedly swatting at the air as if batting the temptation away. If Tendou of all people would be encouraging you, that should be all the reason you need not to do it then.
Besides, you know it's not right. You know it’s none of your business who Ushijima dates or who he has feelings for. You’re just his childhood best friend— no more, no less. In fact, what you should really do is just clean up the mess you’ve made before someone notices and pretend like you never even saw the box.
You swallow and move to stand, to gather the papers you’d scattered all over his table in your frenzy, when your eyes catch the framed photo sitting by his lamp. It’s an old photo; one your mother snapped back from a time when the two of you were still the same height.
You’d been coming home from your first summer festival together, dressed in your matching yukatas. The two of you had spent the night hand in hand as you eagerly dragged him from stall to stall, chattering away. By the time the festival came to a close, you were dead on your feet, sluggishly letting Ushijima guide you back home.
You’d felt bad about it at the time, the kind of worry that comes with thinking you’re being a nuisance, the kind of nonsensical, childish guilt that you’d failed him as his (self-proclaimed) senior. You’d wanted to impress him, to show him something as cool as volleyball, but here you were hours later, so tired that you could barely muster another word, let alone figure out how to get home.
Kids that age are fickle. You know without a doubt that he must’ve been exhausted too, running after you all night. It would’ve been all too easy for him to excuse himself and go home early. You would’ve understood if he did. There was certainly no expectation for him to walk you all the way back home, especially since his house was much closer to the festival than yours.
But because he’s Ushijima—kind, gentle, dependable Ushijima—the thought of leaving you behind had never even crossed his mind. He’d just taken your hand and matched your snail’s pace, slowly maneuvering you through those crowded, winding streets. And then when you’d nearly tripped over your own two feet, he’d simply stopped and offered you his back. Your mother had opened the door to find him standing there with you wrapped around him, dozing off with your face tucked in the crook of his neck, and snapped the photo without hesitation.
You pick up the picture and softly trace the borders of the frame. It’s an old photo and yet—it’s in perfect condition. There’s not even a smudge on the glass.
You don’t want to lose him.
The thought comes to you unbidden, that ache in your chest growing heavier as you gingerly set the picture back down where it used to be. That’s the crux of the matter, isn’t it? You’re just his childhood friend—no more, no less, but god—you don't want to be.
You don’t want to lose him, not to someone else— never to someone else—but the truth is half the jealousy you feel every week is just envy. Envy, because even though you might seethe quietly at the audacity some of these admirers have, using affectionate nicknames and professing their love when they don’t even know him, at least they can confess. Unlike you, they’ve got nothing to lose. Unlike you, they’re not bound by this invisible boundary that they can’t cross.
The truth is you wouldn’t be able to bear it, even though you knew it was only a matter of time before your luck ran out. The only thing worse than someone else having his heart would be you taking the gamble and losing it all.
You glance back at the photo, at the way Ushijima held you so easily even then, as if it was second nature to have you by his side. He wasn’t looking at the camera either, you realize. He was always looking at you.
Your fingers twitch at your sides and then you’re looking back only once to check the door before you throw yourself back under the table, reaching in, twisting your arm in an awkward angle to snatch up the box and drag it back out to the center of the room.
The white plastic stares at you accusingly as you trail your hand across the lid and huff out a laugh. There’s not even a layer of dust. Typical. You really shouldn’t be surprised—Ushijima has always been diligent about taking care of the things he loves.
The things he loves. You curl your fingers around the corner, digging them into the space where the lid meets the container. It’s a bad idea. All of this. Even if you were successful in your impromptu investigation, what would be the point? It’s not like you could confront him about it—you can’t without explaining how you found out to begin with.
You should put it away. Once you open it, there really will be no more going back.
But you would finally know the truth.
Your eyes flick back to that picture of the two of you and you pause only a moment before you give in and finally rip that damn lid off.
…
Oh.
It’s you.
It’s all you.
You’d been bracing yourself for the worst—love letters, pictures, gifts too precious to keep out on display—but all that’s staring back at you in that stupid, worthless plastic tub is a lifetime of memories you’d almost forgotten about.
There are the notes that you used to pass to him during lectures, back when the two of you were still lucky enough to be in the same class, safely tucked away in a plastic sheet and organized by year. Your little doodles are still there, ink smudged slightly on the paper but in otherwise pristine condition. Behind them are the messy, half finished polaroids you snapped of the two of you, with handwritten dates for each one. Bottles, wrappers from the late night konbini runs.
And there, in the center of it all, is the flower you gave him at recess, the Japanese camellia you shoved into his hands when you made him promise to play with you forever.
He kept it. He kept all of it, this collection of trinkets, and pieced it together into this haphazard mosaic of the story most precious to him: the story of the two of you.
You carefully reach in and cup the camellia in your hand, tenderly running your thumb over the dried petals. It’s smaller than you remember. When you first snatched it from your neighbor’s garden, clambering over that fence while she hollered at you, you’d been giddy with your stolen prize. You didn’t have the words for it back then, didn’t understand the dizzying, overwhelming affection you felt for your best friend. But instinctively, some part of you recognized that with those pretty, pink petals that seemed to spill past your fingertips, your gift could do all the talking for you.
You know better now. Perhaps even back then, that too, was love.
You smile wistfully. You needed two hands to hold it back then. Where did the time go?
“Nice flower. What’re you doing in Wakatoshi’s room?” Tendou chirps as he leans over you.
You yelp and shove the flower back in the box, slamming the lid back on top. “Tendou! God— nothing! I’m just waiting for him to be done with class!”
Tendou squints his eyes, staring at you and the plastic box that you’re currently trying to discreetly kick back under Ushijima’s desk.
“Eh? It’s already 5. Class was over an hour ago. You missed practice—you never miss practice. Washijo thought something happened to you. Goshiki wanted to search the nearest holding cell.”
The box makes an unhappy thud when you shove it again and it ends up wedged between the desk and the shelf. There’s a brief lull in conversation when you and Tendou pause to stare. You cough loudly and stand up, dusting yourself off. “You know how it is. I just lost track of time.”
“...This is about today’s confession, isn’t it,” he says slowly, inching closer.
“No!” you blurt, throwing your hands in his face. “I mean— why would it be? Hah! Wakatoshi gets confessions all the time! It’s no big deal—”
Tendou easily dodges your attempt to blind him and just gives you a satisfied, impish grin. “So you’re not trashing his room to find his secret girlfriend’s stuff?”
“I don’t have to answer that,” you sniff. Tendou just waggles his eyebrows and you narrow your eyes, annoyed. “Hang on. Don’t change the subject. What are you doing here? Don’t you guys still have training?”
Tendou yawns and throws his hands behind his head. “I left early cause I had a feeling you were gonna do something stupid.”
“And you wanted to help me?”
“And I wanted to be there to see it,” Tendou corrects.
You take a deep breath and bravely resist the urge to just grab him and stretch him like taffy. “Thanks.”
“Ehhh, don’t look so mad! You should be glad I’m here~”
“And why’s that?” You force out.
Tendou gleefully waves his phone in front of your face. “How else would you know that Ushijima just sent me a text. He says he’s coming over to find us.”
Your head shoots up so fast you nearly smack Tendou in the face. “How much time do I have?”
Tendou checks his empty wrist. “Probably like ten minutes.”
You let out a particularly creative string of curses as you frantically sort through the mess, shoving books back on shelves and papers back in drawers.
(Tendou plops himself down, gangly limbs draped over Ushijima’s chair, and rests his head in his hand as he watches you fuss over the pile of clothing you’d made when you tore through Ushijima’s wardrobe.
He wonders if you can see it—you, in a room that only you have the spare key to; a room with the trinkets that you bought for Ushijima as a child; a room he decorated with your favorite colors. If you’ve noticed the way that Ushijima always brings his jacket to the gym, even when he’s going to be playing, because you get cold easily. If you’ve ever caught how, instinctively, whenever someone confesses to him, the first place he always looks is toward you.
Though, given that you’re here in his room frantically trying to cover up the minor crime you’ve just committed, probably not.
Ah well, he thinks, idly scrolling through all the other messages Ushijima’s sent about you. She’ll figure it out eventually. It’s only a matter of time.)
author's notes: so. this was in fact supposed to be a short 2k piece that would give me a break from working on Without Apology. as you can see it did not end up being 2k. anyways. I had a lot of fun working on this piece and even though it was supposed to be mostly comedy, I think I slipped and accidentally wrote something really earnest. I’m sure you will make fun of me for this later Liya.
I think ushijima really shines in these “dense x guy who’s been in love since he was six” tropes because he’s very much an “acts of service” kinda guy. In that sense, reader’s right—if he was in love, it would be really obvious because there would be special treatment. She just doesn’t realize she’s getting special treatment because it’s just how Ushijima has been for as long as she can remember.
I also think it’s really funny that this is supposed to be an ushijima fic and then I basically only had him appear in the beginning and say like 10 words. And then none of those words were directed at reader lol. It’s just like real Haikyuu.
Anyways. My beautiful wonderful beta readers. Thank you to @sun-snatcher for reading like 5k words about a guy you don’t even know and hyping me up anyway. And of course, a big thank you @yuechihua for being so thorough with your edits.I know you absolutely despise ushijima so it means a lot that you would sit down and read 4.9k words of fic dedicated to my beast. I love you hehe!
