Pairing/setting: Farmer!Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: very fluffy, implied sex, reader wants a baby
AN: I've been working on this sporadically for *checks watch* 2.5 years so I hope y'all fucking like it lmao. I really struggled with tying up the ending, so if it feels abrupt that's why! also was too intimidated to try and write baby-making smut, so feel free to imagine those particular shenanigans in your own huge and wrinkly brainsicle. love you all! ~valkyrie
It’s on mornings like this that you feel most unlike yourself. When you slip out of bed before your husband and tug on one of his huge flannels, the sun just peeking into your window. It’s too early. Too early to think, too early for food, too early to do anything but slip out onto the porch in bare feet and curl up on the porch swing. The birds are just waking up with you -- chickadees singing a greeting and the chickens clucking softly in reply. The dewy air sends goosebumps up your bare legs and settles in your lungs as mist clings to the ground. It makes you feel a little lost, a little out of place; mornings have never been meant for you.
When your husband wakes up with the rooster, he joins you on the porch swing, the screen door creaking shut behind him, and hands you a cup of coffee. You lean into his sturdy side and clutch your third favorite mug with both hands (the handle broke last year when you dropped it on the kitchen tile). He doesn’t say anything, just presses his lips to your temple and looks out to the mountains with you. He knows you’ve never been meant for mornings.
When his yellow mug is empty, he rubs your bent knee with a huge hand and leaves you to start farm chores. You may be entitled to a slow start, but the horses expect breakfast before 7 or they’ll be ornery all day.
The sun burns enough dew away for the farmhand’s truck to kick up dust as he drives up your long driveway -- your cue to go put on pants. Back in the bedroom, the stained glass ornaments hanging in the windows are casting shifting rainbows on the wall. This is what lifts your lips for the first time today and prompts the first sip of tepid coffee. You sprawl out on your unmade bed, stretching like a cat in a sunspot made just for you.
By the time you pad downstairs in jeans and an airy blouse, the morning has begrudgingly made a space for you in between its sense of purpose and quiet watchfulness. You set about making breakfast and more coffee, nudging the kitchen awake. You say good morning to the toaster and the butter bell and the kettle on the stove and purposely ignore the dishwasher, which has been giving attitude since the weekend.
You’re murmuring quietly to a pancake when Wakatoshi clomps back in, hanging his hat on the hook by the door.
“Good morning,” you greet, offering up your cheek, which he kisses along with a heavy hand on your hip.
“Does the pancake ever talk back?” he wonders aloud, looking over your shoulder into your cast iron pan.
“Not yet,” you reach for your spatula and grin up at him, “which is what makes it such a good listener.”
He hums thoughtfully and squeezes your waist with his big hand before turning away to reach for plates from the cupboard.
Breakfast passes in conversation about the farrier visiting in the afternoon -- some horses are due for new shoes -- between bites of food. Toshi disappears out the back door to start the rest of his day and you load dishes into the dishwasher. It grumbles to life after a swift kick to the bottom left corner. You’ll have to call the plumber before the weekend.
You’re feeling halfway back to yourself again when you settle into your creaky wooden office chair. It’s nearly the end of the month, which means today is for paying bills and making calls. It’s not nearly as much of a task as it was when you first took over the business side of the farm. Then, you’d had to wade through fifty years of an unintelligible filing system and re-negotiate deals that Wakatoshi’s grandparents had made just as long ago. You’ve always had a way with numbers and a sense for business; it’s the local politics that gave you trouble. People this far into farming country simply don’t trust outsiders, no matter if they’re married to the local golden boy.
Wakatoshi says it had been the same for his father, coming in as an outsider and marrying the beloved daughter of a beloved family. That’s why he’d left, when Toshi was just a kid, never having managed to really feel at home in the community or on the farm.
“But he didn’t have the advantage of your smile,” he’d joked, poking the corner of your mouth gently as you lay in bed late one night a couple of weeks after your wedding.
You’d giggled, swatting his hand away and burying your face into his broad chest. “Do you really think they’ll like me?” you asked in a small voice after a quiet moment.
“They’ll love you. Just like I do.”
You wouldn’t quite say they love you, but the town has at least grown to tolerate you after you’d asserted yourself into their daily lives. Miss Betty at the feed store still doesn’t give you a discount on grain like she had your mother-in-law, and Mary Fletcher still calls you a gold digger behind your back. But at least you’ve made good enough friends with her cousin Amber, who boards her horse in your stables and comes by almost every weekend, to hear about it.
You begin to sweat as the summer announces that it’s still here in the late morning and turn on the rotating fan in an effort to stay cool. The dial of the old rotary phone whirs under your fingertips as you call up the bank, one bare foot bouncing in the air where your leg dangles over the armrest of your chair and receiver cradled to your ear.
It’s a tedious conversation with Laurie, the one and only bank teller, whose daughter is going off to college in just a couple of weeks, that carries you over into lunchtime. You eventually manage to steer her in the direction of the purpose of your call, learning, amidst tidbits about her daughter’s roommate and her son’s soccer tryouts, that your check to the vet had bounced because of an error on the bank’s end. Thank God.
“Shit, that woman can talk,” you breathe when the receiver is safely in its cradle, and Laurie won’t threaten to wash out your mouth with soap for using foul language.
With a deep exhale, you allow your head to fall onto the back of the chair, languishing in the buzzing heat. For the millionth time this summer, you think back to your tiny city apartment, with its shitty water pressure and shitty commute and heavenly air conditioning. What you wouldn’t give….
Well, you wouldn’t give up Wakatoshi, for one.
And you’d had that, with him. You fit him into your tiny shower, washing each other’s bodies and then fucking on the bathroom counter when he couldn’t figure out how to finagle his limbs to fit. He kissed you every morning before work, pressing a packed lunch into your hands.
He proposed under your favorite oak tree in the park at peak foliage, asking you to marry him and move back to his home. You said yes.
You meant it.
But, God. This heat.
The afternoon drags you down, oppressive and lingering, and you find yourself incapable of thinking anymore.
You pass Wakatoshi on your way across the driveway and give him a brief wave, your ring of keys hanging off your middle finger.
“I’ll be back for dinner,” you call as he takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his sweaty hair.
He watches the way your legs propel you up into the elevated cab of his truck, loaded with some buzzing anxiety to move, even through this thick air.
“Okay,” he says.
The first summer you knew Wakatoshi, he invited you to visit home with him for a week. You weren’t together yet, still dancing on the periphery of a relationship with that youthful arrogance of those barely touching adulthood. Halfway through the six-hour drive from the city, he pulled over at a farmstand and bought peaches and lemonade. You ate them in the bed of his truck parked under a maple tree, boughs flush with green and peach juice slipping down your chin.
These grocery store peaches aren’t quite as tender -- you’re just too far North to get them really fresh -- but they’ll do. Still, you worry they’ll bruise as you set the paper grocery bag on the passenger seat next to the bakery box already there. You stand there for a second dumbly, trying to think of a better way to pack them in among your other groceries so they won’t bump around, until the afternoon sun has sunk into the top of your head so it feels like your brain is melting to the inside of your skull. Feeling a little foolish, but otherwise at a loss, you buckle the grocery bag and the box into the seat.
That makes you grin to yourself and snort a giggle as you slam the passenger door and circle around to the other side of the truck. The engine turns and complains for a second before giving in.
Sometimes this is all you need to put yourself back in your body. This little ritual of grocery shopping by yourself -- driving with the music turned up, reading ingredient labels, watching the deli counter guy slice half a pound of provolone. That mundanity, that routine of an adult woman who buys her own groceries, puts everything else in perspective.
You’re here because you want to be. Because you chose to be.
You come to a decision.
Wakatoshi doesn’t pick up the phone when you call on your way out of town, but that’s to be expected. This time of day, he’s most likely out with the horses, and cell reception gives out only a quarter-mile into the pastures. The call goes to voicemail, and you smile to yourself as his recorded voice instructs you to please leave a message. The tone beeps.
“Hey, I’m headed home now. I’ll be there in, uh, about fifteen? Anyway, meet me down at the pond for dinner. Maybe… six-thirty? I thought we’d do something a little special. Okay, I love you!”
The pond is at the East edge of the property, fed by a brook that bubbles out of the foothills. On the side opposite of where the horse pastures end, there is a willow tree that stretches and drapes down to trace the surface of the water. It is under that willow tree that you unpack your picnic basket, pouring white wine into thermos mugs as the low sun streaks through branches.
The heat of the day is finally breaking, giving way to a cacophony of peeper frogs that you can normally only hear distantly in the house. Here, it fills your mind and allows you to think of nothing else but watching the distant silhouette of your husband crossing the pasture towards you. He’s backlit, long shadow reaching across the fence long before he does. You watch him walk in an easy, rolling gait through long grass, watch him hop the fence like he was born for it.
And he was, you remind yourself. He was born for these wide spaces and nature smells. Where you must find space for yourself in the uninhabited corners of the farm (the office, the Eastern edge, the kitchen), he fills the rest as naturally as water fills the pond.
He says your name at the edge of the willow tree, ducking under a bough.
“Hello, love,” you say and smile and pat the blanket next to where you’re sitting.
Your husband sits, folding his legs under him like a little kid. It makes your heart feel a little tender as you tuck yourself into his side and explain your meal: sandwiches and fruit, cherry pie and wine for dessert. He thanks you simply, bending down to kiss you in that slow way that caught you like honey in a trap that first night in front of your apartment building, all those years ago. He tastes like vanilla chapstick.
You eat. Wakatoshi tells you about his day. About the farrier's visit and fixing a leak in the chicken coop’s roof.
“Wakatoshi,” you say, leaning forward to pick at the grass as he works the stone out of a peach with his pocket knife. He hums, deft in his work but listening. “What would you say about having a baby?”
He makes a sharp noise of pain and you look over, wide-eyed, to see he’s sliced clean through the peach and into his own palm. The blood wells before your eyes, mixing with peach juice as you gasp and lunge for the paper napkins in the basket.
“You have to be more careful! What if you seriously--”
“Yes,” he cuts you off as you’re taking his hand in both of yours, setting the fruit and knife aside, and wadding up the napkins to stop the bleeding.
“What?”
“I’d say yes to having a baby.” He’s looking right at you with those hazel eyes, the expression in them so close to reverence it stuns you.
“Oh,” you breathe, staring straight back.
At that exact moment, the setting sun glows orange at the top of the pasture hill, streaking Wakatoshi’s cheek with gold through the willow branches. All the breath is gone from you, your head gone light from having this question you’ve mulled over for weeks answered so simply.
His uninjured hand finds your cheek, tucks stray hair away from your face.
“Are you asking? Do you want to have a baby?”
“I-- Yes. I’m asking.”
He smiles, soft as the cattails that sway at the opposite edge of the pond, and leans in to meet your lips with his. You let yourself sink into it for a moment, unable to stop smiling against his mouth, but pull away to further inspect the slice across his palm. He lets you, his fingers curled gently inward while you dab away blood and rub a gentle thumb on his wrist, but his gaze never wavers from your face. It’s intense-- almost like how it was when you first knew him, but with an undercurrent of affection that makes your chest warm.
“It doesn’t look too deep,” you conclude, folding up some clean napkins and pressing them to the wound. “But we should clean it--”
“It can wait.”
“But it could still get infected, what if--”
“It can wait,” he interrupts again, insisting with gentle obstinance. The next words are low in his chest. “I can’t.”
You don’t get back to the house until late, August constellations suspended thickly overhead. It’s like you’re kids again and the barn cat is your mother, watching disapprovingly from her perch on the porch railing as you sneak in after curfew, wine-tipsy and elated. Your husband crowds in the door after you, handsy even after you’ve done nothing but touch each other all evening. You pull him into the kitchen and make him wash his wound thoroughly, your thumbs rubbing into the meat of his palm.
“I hope our daughter has your eyes,” he says. He’s close, his own eyes finding yours in the almost-dark.
“A daughter, huh?”
“A daughter. She’ll be just like you.”
“And what am I like?” you ask, coy, looking up at him through your lashes in the starlight streaming in the window.
Wakatoshi leans forward gently, resting his brow on yours. “You are,” he swallows thickly, eyes fluttering closed, “you are the world.”
Your day ends nothing like it began. Your day ends with utter surety of your place in this house, in this town, in Wakatoshi’s arms. The day ends and you feel completely yourself again, cradled in the gently rolling hills of the life you’ve chosen.
Genre: Smut/NSFW! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS.
TW: Hints of jealous and/or possessive sex
A/N: I wrote this in the middle of class because all of a sudden I had become an Oikawa brat. Please enjoy this short drabble! I won't do a word count for now since I'm in class lmfao.
The flavor of your honeyed, hopeless voice dripped onto his tongue as he pried your thighs apart further, your walls fluttering and quavering around his length as he dived even deeper into you, heady whines drawn from your mouth. The searing feeling of his cock against the area that sent brilliant shivers slithering down your spine made you writhe, your thighs trembling against the force of his hips crashing against yours like violent ocean waves. He wouldn't stop until you'd be cloaked in the savors of lovemaking–the smell of him driving you into utter rapture so that everybody else knew that nobody else could fuck you better than him. He grinned in a predatory manner as your combined saliva dribbled down your chin, your face licentiously doused in a film of rapture.
SUMMARY: In which the faculty at U.A. — ehem Present Mic and Midnight — and 1-A tried to get the two of them together, only to find out they were together all along.
UNWANTED SURPRISES — ANGST
[PART ONE] & [PART TWO]
SUMMARY: Aizawa Shouta was always a man full of surprises, but that doesn't mean that it's always pleasant.
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY — FLUFF
SUMMARY: You give Aizawa a memorable Father's Day gift.
(CAT)ASTROPHE — FLUFF
SUMMARY: A normal night patrol changes when you encounter a strange quirk on the way home.
FUTURE — FLUFF
SUMMARY: You and Shouta take a big step for the future.
CHRISTMAS SPIRIT — FLUFF
SUMMARY: Who knew a little plant can push the both of you to confess?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY — FLUFF
SUMMARY: Waking up to your husband casually looking like a Greek God is the best birthday present ever.
DEMON SUMMONING 101 — SMUT
SUMMARY: Maybe summoning a demon wasn't so bad after all.
DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY — FLUFF
SUMMARY: Under the moonlight where confessions are made, you and Aizawa Shouta dance the night away.
AIZAWA FINDING OUT YOU'RE TOKOYAMI'S SIBLING — FLUFF HC
SUMMARY: Exactly as the title says. Protective vibes from Tokoyami and Dark Shadow ensue.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! — FLUFF
SUMMARY: There was a special announcement on mother's day.
TOSHINORI YAGI / ALL MIGHT
A THOUSAND MILES AWAY — SLIGHT ANGST & FLUFF
SUMMARY: There was always this distance between you and your father and you were determined to erase that.
MIDORIYA IZUKU / DEKU
WORRIED — FLUFF
SUMMARY: You admire your brother's passion and determination in achieving his goal but sometimes you get a little too worried about his well-being.
BAKUGO KATSUKI / DYNAMIGHT
UNDER ARREST — FLUFF
SUMMARY: If anyone can capture Bakugo's heart, it's you.
ANNOYING — FLUFF
SUMMARY: You mistake Prince Bakugo as a thief and he finds you annoying. (ROYAL AU!)
TOGATA MIRIO / LEMILLION
LOVE NOTES — FLUFF
SUMMARY: You try to convey your feelings to your childhood bestfriend through various notes.
TOKOYAMI FUMIKAGE / TSUKUYOMI
MISSING PIECE — FLUFF
SUMMARY: The Underworld and its King isn't as cold and harsh than what they made it to be. (AFTERLIFE AU!)
TODOROKI SHOUTO
FIRST LOVE — LIL ANGST & FLUFF
SUMMARY: Who knew you'd experience your first love after you died?
NO MATTER WHAT — LIL ANGST & FLUFF
SUMMARY: You love Todoroki Shouto for who he is, no matter what. (TOKYO GHOUL AU!)
KIRISHIMA EIJIRO / RED RIOT
SING FOR YOU — FLUFF
Summary: Kirishima Eijiro was not a hopeless romantic, at least that's what his fans think. Imagine, the shock when he suddenly releases a song dedicated to his lover.
OJIRO MASHIRAO / TAIL MAN
EXTRAORDINARY YOU — FLUFF
PART TWO COMING SOON
SUMMARY: Ojiro lived a boring life being a workaholic. He finds out he never lived life to the fullest until he met the Goddess of Death. (FANTASY AU!)
UKAI KEISHIN
(STRAW)BERRIES & CIGARETTES — FLUFF
SUMMARY: You hate cigarettes—and the people who smoked them—so why was he different?
ARRANGED — ANGST & FLUFF
[PART ONE] & [PART TWO]
SUMMARY: You tried to make it work, you tried so hard, and now that you were ready to let go, Keishin couldn't. Nothing good ever comes out of an arranged marriage, does it?
KAGEYAMA TOBIO
MILK CONFESSIONS — FLUFF
SUMMARY: Feelings are complicated, Love Alarm makes it a pain in the ass. Kageyama clears some misunderstandings while confessing with your favorite milk drink. Is this a dream? You hoped not. (LOVE ALARM AU!)
YAMI SUKEHIRO
GAMES — FLUFF (MODERN!AU)
SUMMARY: You get hooked on a new game and Yami isn't a fan. Or is he?
Author Note: What is it about my need to write angst lately? Anyway, Enjoy! (criticism is always welcome)
This started out as a 500 words drabble, but it got out of hand.
Kuroo had no idea how he would get through this fucking course without breaking down at some point. The worksheets and load of work he had to pull through would get him a few early gray hairs, his psyche suffering tremendously, but oh well... that’s what college was about.
The only thing he looked forward to was getting home, where you were probably waiting for him with a warm smile and a heart-melting “welcome”. Those were the time where he could feel all of his stress and negativity dissipate into thin air.
The sound of the lock opening brought a flutter in his stomach, him already anticipating the sweet relief of finding you there upon opening the door.
The cold and dark room was the only thing to receive him.
Oh, right... you were not there anymore.
You had left a long time now, exhausted by his constant neglect. Could he blame you though? Of course not.
If he was honest, in fact, he wouldn’t have put up with his sorry ass for half of the time you did. But seeing the empty shoe rack by the door, and the hangers stripped from that hideous scarf you insisted on wearing, he could not fight the tears that threatened to fall. What was he supposed to do now?
The click of the switch brought light into his house, which he no longer called home. Kuroo ran a hand through his messier than usual hair, and sighing heavily he left his bag on the floor, not caring about his spilled books.
He didn’t feel like doing his project anymore, and talking to your mutual friends would only bring him more despair, as Bokuto seemed to only know how to talk about you.
The creaking of the mattress when he heavily fell on it used to bring him joy, because it was often accompanied by your soft giggle, followed by the usual “Tough day, huh?”
You had no idea.
You had no idea just how tough his days had been since you left, depriving his apartment from the spark it used to have.
It was unfair for him to feel this sour about the situation. Break-ups sucked, and he had every right to feel hurt about it, but he recognized his actions had lead to the outcome. You tear-streaked face would hunt him for eternity.
“I can’t handle this anymore Kuroo...” Your whispered words, so tiny and fragile, but so powerful at the same time, breaking his heart in a million pieces.
The words died in his mouth, so he just steeped aside, letting you go without even trying to make you stay.
All the I love you’s and promises he never got to make, all the late night snacks and pillow talks you would never share.
Now they were nothing but a wish, an illusion that dissipated into thin air.
The first week you were gone, he was resentful and shady over social media, like he was only a teenager who’s crush rejected. But, as Kenma had put it in simple words. He was just a sore loser.
You had tried your best, but the fights started to rise, In volume, in frequency, in anger. And they were about the stupidest things ever, like him not feeling like getting up on his sparse free moments to go out with you, him refusing to eat with you at the table. Once you were gone, he regretted letting all of his frustration and stress out on you.
Half of his helplessness came from a selfish place if he really thought about it. You were his mini vacation, his heaven on earth, and he had destroyed it, even noticing his mistake until it was too late and the sheets were cold, just like the half-finished cup of tea you had left at the counter, and he still didn’t have the courage to put away.
Akaashi’s couch was soft and comfortable, hugging your body as if it was a cloud.
But it wasn’t Kuroo’s bed. The warmth the boy irradiated as he sleeps was missing. The way he would sometimes mumble nonsense or when his hand would reach for yours in the middle of the night, simply because.
Those were the things you missed the most. At those times at night you couldn’t help but think. Were you over reacting?
You knew he was stressed about school, maybe you shouldn’t have been as harsh, but thinking about letting him go over you like if you were nothing but the shoe mat in the front door, made a bitter taste settle in the back of your mouth and a resentment you never wanted to have towards him bloom.
If you didn’t walk away when you did you would have ended up hating him, or hating him in the tough moments at least, because when everything was going good, Kuroo made you feel like you were floating, and oh so loved.
But he tended to lock himself inside his head, submerging in a spiral of unhealthy habits of insomnia and a full gallon of caffeine to keep going. Shutting you out completely, brushing your attempts at spend time with him off.
Sighing, you rolled on the couch by the tenth time that hour, restless and sad. Akaashi’s apartment was pitch black. The only thing cutting through all the blackness was your phone, displaying a picture of you and Kuroo, smiling at the museum, in front of a painting of Marie Curie. That one was taken in summer vacations, when he still hadn’t started his courses and could spend some time with you while being awake.
Maybe it was unfair of you to disappear from his life out of nowhere, just picking everything up and running to hide behind your friend, not able to confront Kuroo and see his reaction at your abandonment for more than ten seconds.
You turned again, the blanket wrapped around your shoulders slipping to your waist. You didn’t even bother to readjust it.
“You know, I Can hear your sorrow all the way from my room.” Akaashi’s voice startled you, Looking up you noticed his silhouette in the living room entrance. Sighing, he uncrossed his arms and started towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make tea.”
Two heartbeats later, a steaming cup was in your hands, your friend sitting next to you, sipping his green tea in silence.
“Okay...” He said once he finished the cup, leaving it in the table. His voice calm and collected. “What is it? You obviously need to talk.” You kept silence, focusing on the pale color of your drink. It didn’t taste like Kuroo’s tea at all. This one was missing something... You sipped again, still unsure about speaking up about what was bothering you.
“ I know it’s about Kuroo, and I know you need help to figure your feeling out... But understand I Can’t help you if you don’t speak to me... I’ve been patient for the two weeks and a half you’ve been crashing in my couch.” He turned to you, resting his elbow in the back of it, his face supported by his hand. “Don’t get me wrong, i love having you here and all. But it’s obvious you don’t. Judging by the way you’re stabbing daggers at the tea...”
“Sorry, I just...” You didn’t know what to say. That you missed Tetsuro’s bed or his tea? That you could not get the way he sings in the shower to cheesy 80’s songs out of your head? Or the way your hand always felt empty without his in it? “I miss him...” That seemed to sum it up pretty well.
“I thought you couldn’t handle the relationship anymore...” He prompted
You shook your head, setting your still full cup in the table.
“I couldn’t... but I don’t know” You were bad at communicating, maybe that was one of the reasons you chose to escape rather than talk.
“Do you think you could have handle things different with him when it started getting rough?” Akaashi’s words were intense, just like the look he was giving you, his clever gaze analyzing up every single reaction you made.
Yeah, in fact, you thought about that.
Maybe that was why you were so restless, the guilt o knowing you could have done more for the two of you, but choose to do nothing weighted on your conscious
“You know, if you want to go back with him, that doesn’t make you any less strong (Y/N)... Sometimes we just don’t handle our emotions in the right way. And it seems to me that the both of you made a few mistakes... Maybe you should talk to Kuroo. Who knows? This time it could go better...” Akaashi got up and went to his room, throwing a “Try to rest” Over his shoulder.
What were you going to do? The shame of your actions overshadowed all logic and reason.
What if Kuroo told you to fuck off? He could hate you for all you knew.
You hadn’t made up your mind the next morning, still teetering on the edge to throwing your pride to the garbage and just beg him to take you back or just leave everything as it was. Time cured everything, right?
Coincidentally with this debate you were having between logic and feelings, your college sent you an email regarding a few missing papers you needed to hand over in the office. Bad -or good-thing was, you left that folder at Kuroo’s place thinking you wouldn’t need it anymore.
Seems like you would have to see him, you wanted it or not.
Three knocks on his door woke Kuroo up that Saturday morning.
He considered the possibility of just not getting up, too tired by his restless nights to function properly, but by the time whoever was outside the door knocked again he was walking to the door, throwing a random hoodie that was lying around his naked torso to look somewhat presentable. He didn’t want to look like a perv in case it was his landlady, a sweet grandma that was always nice and used to bring you cookies from time to time. Kuroo remembered tenderly those times where the lady and you would spend hours in the corridor sharing recipes and exchanging goodies.
He missed those days.
Kuroo opened the door and froze in the middle of zipping the hoodie up.
Was he dreaming? It wouldn’t be the first time, Those weeks without you were a torture, and your memories usually haunted his dreams, you in the arms of someone else were a popular theme in his subconscious.
And now, you were there, right in front of him, close enough to extend his hand and brush the skin on your cheek. He was dumbfounded, not able to emit a word.
He thought you were no longer going to speak to him, sending Akaashi or Bokuto to pick up the remainder of your stuff.
“Um... Hi” You hesitated, trying to look at anything but his exposed mid drift, but failing completely. “Sorry to bother, but I forgot a few important papers the last time I was here.” you tried to say as nonchalantly as possible
“Oh... “ He said, stepping aside, letting you into the apartment you used to share. “Sure... Do you remember where it was?”
You took a step in and the rush of longing took you by surprised.
You missed that tiny and uncomfortable couch so much, and the horrible square pattern blanked Kuroo bought ant kept in the chair next to it. The curtains that would slap you in the face if the windows behind the sofa was open, everything there felt like home, and you knew you were the one to go away in the first place, but still.
Akaashi was right, you didn’t even try to talk to him before running away, too traumatized by past experiences to even try to make it work. Th tears choked you and threaten to fall.
It was too late. Asking to try again would be so selfish, after the mess you caused yourself.
“(Y/N)?” Tetsurō‘s gentle tone broke you out of your trance.
“Huh? Oh yeah, It’s probably in the bedroom...” Was it even appropriate for you to go inside his bedroom still? Kuroo must’ve noticed your hesitation because he signal with his hand for you to go first.. The flash of sadness in his eyes almost going unnoticed by you.
Everything was just as you left it inside the room. The same glass of water on the nightstand, your drawers only halfway closed cause you were in a rush when you left, afraid that you back out of your dumb and rushed plan to break up with him all of the sudden, thinking that way would be better, just like ripping a band-aid.
In the bookcase against the wall you spotted the red folder you came looking for. Once it was in your grasp, you really didn’t have an excuse to delay your exit from Kuroo’s house... that used to be your home, and that you wanted so bad to call it home once again.
Turning back to him, who was standing at the door you hugged the folder to your chest.
“So... this was it. Thank u Tets...” You noticed your mistake and tried to correct it “Kuroo... I better leave now.” You advanced towards the door, but his sulked figure blocked the way. “Kuroo?”
You looked up at him, and the tears in his hazel orbs stunned you. His lips trembled slightly and with a frustrated groan he rubbed his eyes harshly.
“Fuck!” He exclaimed, keeping them covered. A broken sigh shaking his shoulders, “I hate this... I hate it so much...”
Your heart clenched, and you regretted not sending Akaashi in your place. He obviously wasn’t okay with you there.
“Oh um... Sorry, I’ll just leave now.” You attempted to sidestep him to get out of the room, but in heart beat his long arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest.
The sobs of the boy you loved made his chest vibrate under your skin, and the pain he was feeling you could feel it too. You didn0t hesitate, and as if it was a second nature to you, you squeezed him harder, kissing the soft bare skin of his chest, as you felt your chest collapse into itself.
Could someone die from sadness and love at the same time? Because that was how you were feeling.
“I’m sorry... I know it’s too late and all... But I really am sorry...” He started, his words coming out strangled by the tears, but you shushed him as the tears slipped over your cheeks, leaving wet trails on them.
“Shh... I’m sorry too.” You chocked on a I love that you refused to let slip past your lips. He could be trying to move on, and this was just a minor setback, you would not be that selfish and just throw your feeling into him.
Still presses against his body, you sighed
You missed so badly the feeling of his arms around you, and the way your body fit into his in all the right places, his hands burying themselves in your hair as he brought you closer to him.
Kuroo Tetsurō was your home. The home you lost the key to, locking yourself out of it in a careless action.
“(Y/N)?... I’m sorry...” You opened your mouth to say it was okay when he spoke again. “I love you so much... and I’m so sorry I pushed you away...” The air was sucker punched out of your lungs. And now it was your body, the one being rocked by uncontrollable sobs.
You loved him too, but were too busy weeping to respond to his declaration.
Kuroo held you in his arms, while the both of you cried.
It was almost therapeutic, finally being able to apologize about his mistakes.
Something muffled came out of your mouth and he didn’t catch it, since the got lost against his skin, your warm breath tickling him.
“What baby?” He asked, and wanted to kick himself for it. He was not respecting your decision of separating with his actions and words, but he couldn’t help the overwhelming waves of emotions that watched over him.
“I want to come back home...” Kuroo stayed silent, processing what you just said. “I’m sorry for not trying to make us work Tetsu... But I miss you like crazy, and I was scared and I don’t know what I was thinking... I’m just so sorry...”
His response was simple. He hugged you closer, picking you up like he had done so many times in that same room.
He sat at the end of the bed, with you sitting on his lap, your head tucked in the crook of his neck while his hands caressed your scalp.
Once the sobs retreated, you lifted your head and looked at him in the eyes. Your eyelashes were shimmering with the remaining wetness the tears left behind, your nose was red as well as your cheeks.
Your eyes scanned his face and Kuroo held his breath when you leaned in, your lips softly brushing his, almost as if you feared rejection.
He could never say no to you.
He applied a little more pressure and he finally tasted your lips again. God, how he missed the feeling of your lips against his. Your breath tickled his mouth each time you pulled away to take a breath in between kisses.
Kuroo’s hands went to your back as the kiss rose in intensity. Your hands grabbed his shoulders, your fingers pressing his arm.
Kuroo could feel his erection grow, pressing against his gym shorts, and he was sure you could feel it too by the way your face was getting hotter to the touch.
You readjusted on top of him, your hips straddling his, and the friction from the movement tore a moan from his throat. Embarrassed, he tried to kiss you again to hide his blush, but you pulled away and looked him dead serious in the eyes. He started to feel nervous and was about to apologize, when all of the sudden you moved again, grinding against him. He let out another whiny moan and an entertained glint flashed across your eyes.
Your fingers found the zipper of the hoodie, and the cold skin of your knuckles brushing him as you undid it, exposing his abs. You admired them for a second before kissing him again, breathing in his scent. Slipping the hoodie from his shoulders, a shiver traveled his spine when your fingers brushed the sensitive spot in his clavicle. And an amused smile twitched in the corner of your lips, as you brought your face down to meet your lips with his skin.
Your scorching mouth against his neck made his head spin, and when your teeth made an appearence, he could not help the clench of his stomach, the nibbles you left on his skin sending a tingling to his toes. He sucked in a sharp breath when to licked behind his ear all of the sudden, and the low chuckle on his ear snapped him out of the daze you had him in.
Grabbing your hip and back, he pressed you harder against him, and a gasp left your lips. Smiling smugly, he flipped both of you over.
Kuroo smile above you, as he teasingly trailed his fingers against your sides, until he came to a stop on the edges of your pants, looking at you once again to confirm you were still okay.
Your smirk was the only confirmation he needed.
He unbuttoned your jeans and he took them off, throwing the garment somewhere behind him. His mouth came down to your lips once again as his hand slipped inside your underwear that was a dripping mess because of him.
Pride swelled his chest at the thought he was the one making you feel like this, craving his touch just as much as he craved yours.
When his fingers brushed your clit, a strangled moan came out of you, and oh how much he missed the sounds you made when he touched you like that.
He kissed you like there was no tomorrow, his mouth claiming yours, teeth pulling your lips and soft words whispered into them as his finger kept stimulating you, a fog settling over your mind.
“I love you so fucking much...” His mouth went to your chin, and kept going down, trailing your skin, an electric shock struck you from head to toe when he kissed that one spot in your hip he knew drove you crazy. “So fucking beautiful...” He praised.
He kept going down, his lips ghosting over your inner thighs and his breath brushing over your cunt and making you whine out his name.
“Kuroo...” You said. Your hand digging into his hair as your eyes flutter closed.
“What is it, baby?” He asked, and you could even hear the mock in his tone. You were going to respond, when his teeth nibbled the sensitive skin, careful not to hurt you.
Pulling aside your underwear, his mouth found your pulsating sex. And a shock wave of ecstasy filled your body. It didn’t take too long for him to have you at the edge, your toes curling and your hand clutching his hair. Heaving breaths rose your chest and with one last flick of Kuroo’s tongue an orgasm hit you full force, his name coming out of your lips.
“Tetsu...” A series of spasms rocked your body, and your legs clenching around his head, and Kuroo Chuckled at your reaction, amazed at the intensity of your pleasure.
Once you came out of your high, Kuroo settled next to you in bed, his erection still present and bothering him a little, but he was content with making you feel good. He needed nothing else. He could take care of his arousal later.
Rolling over you sat on top of him, leaning down you kissed his neck as you dragged your hands down his abs, feeling the smooth muscles underneath your fingertips, and you noticed just how much you had missed the intimacy you both shared. Your hands kept traveling until you found the elastic of his pants and pulled them down, brushing his swelling member as you pulled the garment down, stripping Kuroo of his last garment.
With his pants out of the way, you could feel the heat from his cock against your wet pussy. He helped you take out your shirt and kissed the exposed skin in between your breasts.
You rubbed on him once more, and the friction ignited the fire in your stomach. You circled Kuroo’s neck with your arms, and leaned you damped forehead on his chest, soft moans coming out of your mouth.
Lifting your hips slightly you aligned Kuroo’s dick with your entrance and in one swift motion you were filled to the rim with him.
“Shit (Y/n)!” He threw his head back, fingers digging at your hips, as you slowly adjusted to him. “God, I love you so much, I love you so fucking much baby...” Kuroo hissed. Kissing your temple, he then guided your hips up and down, feeling every inch of you tightening around him.
Your moans were shushed by his mouth, while your hips kept moving, feeling the way his member pushed at your walls, tightening the knot in the pit of your stomach.
Switching up the pace, Kuroo sat up and picked you up. Laying you on your back you admire the sight of him, his smooth skin and tall frame, his muscular legs and abs, his gentle hands, and his eyes that were so full of love.
You turned around, lifting your ass up and inviting him in. An almost animalistic growl left his throat at the sight.
“Please Tetsu...” You looked at him, with your eyes full of lust and a glint of mischief in them. “I want you inside of me”
In less than a heartbeat he was inside of you once more, his hips colliding mercilessly with your ass, the lewd sounds of skin against skin mixed with the whimpers that involuntarily came out of your throat as he pounded your pussy like he wanted to.
“Fuck, I missed so much being inside of you.” He grunted, biting his lip.
Kuroo picked up his pace, and you reached for his hand. Intertwining your fingers, he kissed your knuckles, leaning to bite your neck playfully right after.
You could almost feel his abdomen twitching with the need to release his load inside of you. Your chest was flushed against the bed, as Kuroo’s rhythmic movements hit every right spot.
“Tetsu...” You whispered. “Please cum inside of me... I need you.” You begged, aching to be filled by him once more. Your words caused something on him, as if you had stepped on the gas .
The thrust of his hips got more intense and fast, hammering your pussy like it was the sole purpose of his existence. Your thoughts were jumbled and the only coherent thing on your mind was his name, so that all you said.
“Fuck” He moaned, his erratic pace almost matching the beating of your heart. “Oh god baby.... shit.”
With two last powerful you felt him filling you with his cum, releasing three weeks of frustration and desire.
Kuroo tried to pull out of you, but you prevented it, grabbing his wrist and pulling him down to rest on top of you, his bare and sweat covered chest against your back.
A content sigh left his lips and he kissed your shoulder, and your heart could have exploded right then and there.
“So... Now what?” He said, asking the question you were too afraid to voice.
You didn’t know how to precede. Did he wanted to try again? Or was this only a fling of the moment and nothing more?
“Hey.” He called your attention, shifting slightly so he could be lying half of his body on the mattress. You turned your head to him and came nose to nose with him. Kuroo placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “Quit over-thinking and be honest... I won’t get mad if this is really over and you regret this thing we just shared.” His face showed a vulnerability uncharacteristic of him and your heart clenched.
“What do you want?” You turned the question around, a nervous flutter in your stomach.
Without hesitation in his voice or in his eyes, he answered
“You.” He pecked your lips, pressing your foreheads together. You observed his beautiful eyes as he reassured you. “That’s all I ever wanted... You’re my home (Y/n), this house feels empty without you... My life feels empty if you’re not sharing it with me. So... what do you say baby, do you want to give us another chance?” He asked.
— SYNOPSIS: while your hype squad does their job terribly, you get a lil comfy with matsukawa.
— NOTES: BYE THERES LICHRALLY NO PLOT IN THIS ONE IM SO SORRY i shitted this out last night during my boba run </33 i promise that ur gonna get mediocre plot content soon!!!!
pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader (any gender!!)
genre: fluff, friends to lovers i guess
length: 1.7k words
omg hello this is my first time writing something shdfhsdfg so this oneshot was inspired by one of my favorite songs, Shut Up by Greyson Chance! also bc i wanted something to help me cope with stress and idk writing something seemed like the best way possible. unbeta-ed but who cares!
I cannot hold my tongue, you give me much to say
The first time you met Ushijima Wakatoshi was when your family moved in next door. You were unable to help out with the moving boxes so you decided to walk around the neighborhood. You caught him playing volleyball with a man that appeared to be his father.
The man asked if you wanted to play with his son and you agreed. For the rest of the day, the boy taught you volleyball with as little words as possible. It was mostly you in the conversation -- asking him questions and repeating his instructions as he nodded all throughout. His father couldn’t help but smile as his quiet and shy son made a new friend.
For the rest of your childhood you were hanging out with him. You were the most talkative person ever. You never ran out of things while he would look at you and either nod or shake his head. You didn’t mind his silence as long as you know he understood every word you said.
Although there are times when you would be taken aback at how much he remembered the things you’ve said. One day he gave you your favorite flower, the next was a drawing of a butterfly in your favorite color, and whenever you got sick, he would visit you with a snack that you loved the most.
He knew so much about you, yet you only knew little about him. It was your main worry that you could count on your fingers about the things he liked. He likes volleyball, Hayashi rice, the volleyball ace in his dad’s stories, Vabo-chan, drawing, taking care of plants, and -- what else?
One time, both of you were resting under the tree after playing volleyball and a finished session of rambling about life, you asked him, “Wakatoshi-chan, what is your most favorite thing in the world?”
He faced you, staring at your eyes, and all he could say was “You.”
=====
I’m sweating bullets, nervous that you’ll push away
You developed your first crush right before first year of high school started. It was finally decided that you were allowed to move into Shiratorizawa Academy and live in the dorms, and the crush in question helped you with the packing and moving. His name was Ushijima Wakatoshi.
It happened on a whim, really. You realized that the both of you were growing up. His body and facial features were maturing, and you knew that he was growing up to be a handsome young man.
You both agreed to help each other unpack first in your dorm then his after. You couldn’t help but feel so anxious because it was your first time living away from your parents and on top of that, Shiratorizawa’s high academic standards were something you have to uphold. When the pressure gets to you too much, you tend to spout out a lot of “what ifs.”
But it was Wakatoshi to the rescue. He stood close in front of you and held both of your shoulders, which made you pause and look up to him. Huh, since when did he get so tall?
“You’ll be okay. I’m here”
And suddenly those five words washed the nerves away. You closed the distance between you two and wrapped your arms around him. This is nothing new, you say to yourself, and he followed by enveloping his strong arms around you, but why do I feel a new kind of anxiety?
You stayed in each other's arms for a few minutes. You let the rise and fall of his chest relax you right now. High school is going to be alright if it’s with him, but at the same time, high school isn’t going to be alright with him either as your platonic feelings for him bloomed into something else.
“Say, Wakatoshi-chan,” you asked out of the blue, and you felt his chest vibrate as he hummed in response. “I know I’m very talkative and I always tell you to stop when it gets too much. Well...a-am I still annoying to you?”
Until now, you still fear the day when he stops being your friend and finally decides that you were being too annoying. Because of him and your feelings for him, you became too self-conscious.
You retracted from him, but his arms still held firm around you. You tilted your head up to meet his olive green eyes with yours, staring at him with anticipation. With his left hand -- the hand that his father fought for, the hand that helped him unleash his strength, the hand that proved him to be different -- gently moved from your back to hold the back of your head. He pulled you back into his chest and held you tighter than before.
Still on his chest, you felt him shaking his head.
And when your eyes catch mine, I know I talk too much
=====
You have fallen hard for Ushijima Wakatoshi. You actually had planned to confess to him, but his serious and stoic nature made it hard to recognize his true feelings for you.
Three years have passed. You and your childhood friend are in your final year of high school.
You know that he will go pro after high school. The loss of his team against Karasuno only fueled his passion for the sport even more. He constantly wanted to improve and one day stand on the national stage again.
And you? Well, you wanted to get into one of Japan’s top universities at least. It won’t be easy, but you had the support from your friends and family. That familiar feeling has once again come back, fresh as the day as when you had to prepare for high school. The uncertainty of the future coupled with the feelings for the man you liked for years that are getting nowhere were adding to the weight on your shoulders.
It became harder to sleep as the end of your high school life approached. The time on your phone flashed 2 am and you texted him about meeting up at the nearby convenience store. You knew how sleeping on time and waking up on time mattered to him, but it came to your surprise when he replied with an “okay, see you there.”
Leaning on the wall at the side of the convenience store alone, you saw him approaching you. You could not help but notice how eye candy he was in his joggers and plain t-shirt. The darkness helped conceal the blush formed on your cheeks.
He leaned on the wall next to you and you both stood there in silence. Your heart was beating louder than your thoughts at that point, but at the same time you felt relaxed because his presence simply helped you forget the weight you’re carrying. How does this man make you nervous yet bring you comfort at the same time?
“So uh, Wakatoshi,” you started. “We’ll be graduating soon.” He huffed in reply. You looked at the moon, because the man next to you would only distract your thoughts.
“To be honest, I don’t really have concrete plans for my future as long as I get into some university. I’m fine with any degree as long as it gets me somewhere, you know? And for you, you know what you want. You’re gonna go pro and I’m so proud of you. I’ll be supporting you all the way, just as what I’ve been doing in your matches in the past years.” You didn’t notice him inching closer to you as you continued your monologue.
The moon, in all its hypnotic glory, made you believe you were talking to it; it was you and the moon at that moment. “We have been together like, all the time. I wonder why you haven’t grown tired of me yet honestly. And this is the first time we’ll be apart...after high school I mean. I’ll forever cherish these moments and whenever I miss you I’ll think about all the times we’ve had together. I can’t help it if you were such a constant presence in my life.
“I just wanna say, thank you, for everything. I can’t list them down, that would take me years! Even if we can’t see each other a lot, I really don’t want us to grow apart, that’s all I’m asking for. But I completely understand if you don’t like me...I know I’m too much at times so I don’t know how you put up with me so, I’m sorry. God, I get too self-conscious at times… I know you mean well and that I should trust you more but... What doesn’t help is that I like you so mu--” You stopped. What? You punished your own mouth for moving faster than your brain.
You broke your gaze at the moon to face the man next to you. Your eyes widened because he stood closer to you than earlier. His olive eyes pierced you and with one look they told you to stop putting your focus at the rock in the sky. “Wakatoshi? I… w-well… Wow! What did I say?” You were laughing and shaking at that point. Did I have caffeine today? Your eyes were everywhere except his. He placed his left hand on your chin to tilt your head up and look back at his face. You drank in his olive orbs and handsome face, making sure this moment etched in your mind forever.
In his eyes you were the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, even if you were a blushing mess.
“What I mean t-to say is, uhh... yes, I do like you. A lot. Not just as your closest friend, but as something more than that. I’ve fallen for you, Wakato-” For the first time in your friendship, he has cut you off from your words by pressing his own lips with yours. This was the first time he shut you up from your ramblings rather than give a single nod or a few words in reply. This was the first time he rendered you speechless.
Your arms snaked around his neck as you kissed him back. It was innocent and chaste, and it reminded you of the day he declared that you were his favorite thing. You still were.
And in that kiss, was when Ushijima Wakatoshi showed something that spoke more words than you have ever said to him in all these years together.
