wc: 0.5k
content warning: kinktober day 17 - marathon :3, smut, feral ushijima x reader, yes.. he's big, creampie, not proofread
*⠀ ࣪ ೃ ˖⠀
lord have mercy... it's simmering hot, the room smells of sex and sweat as you come back from your unconsciousness—breath hitching and voice all ragged from the way you screamed at the top of your lungs, taking in your husband's ferocious fat cock.
you've just orgasmed once, but holy shit did it knock all the wind out of your lungs as he continued to fuck you through your limits. your gummy pink walls never let loose for his monstrous girth that remained pistoning through your cunt with great haste.
your bodies rub against each other, sheen and dripping with sweat as the clicking of his pelvis hitting your ass echoed along the walls of your bedroom. clinging onto dear life while your knuckles turned a shade of white from gripping onto the bedsheets with all your might, your back arched like crazy while you felt him pulsate inside of you—dragging his heavy cock in and out of your tight pussy.
all you could do was continue moaning and gasping for air and staining your bedsheets with cum. you just couldn't escape ushijima when he's gone absolutely feral.
with his strong, big build, the stretching is always going to be intense, even if he prepares you with his thick sturdy fingers. and the ringing you both hear? it's the lewd sounds of your bodies connecting repeatedly filling the air.
ushijima's grip on your waist was absolutely bruising and felt like he was cinching you in while making sure your legs stayed sprawled open for him. he's grunting, suppressing his primal urges and moans while he tilts his head back as waves of pleasure wash over him.
you? you were ready to cum again with the way he's nonstop yanking your ass back onto his girth that's filling in every crevice of your body. it was hard to breathe but you loved every overstimulating second of it—clawing at your headboard, face basically down into your pillow, all while your ass stayed up for him to demolish.
god, every time he slid out—you felt so empty without ushijima. but in? you were completely stuffed to the brim, frothing with a milky white outline on the circumference of his cock, even followed by the squelching wet sounds coming from your cunt that dripped with your mixed juices.
your walls are stretched to the max just for his obscene size, like ushijima's cock was molding you to be his pussy. feeling him his your cervix was eye rolling, your mouth's hung wide open, drooling into your pillow as your legs tremble and shake from the way he hits you in your most sensitive areas to bring you to straight euphoria.
creampie after creampie, he's still at it—giving you the whole bakery. the amount of cum he's spilled inside your womb was insane. the sight of just sliding his cock out to watch your gaping hole twitch and suddenly splat out his milky white load was such a sight for him..
childhoodfriend!ushijima who first saw you when your family moved into the house across from his. he watched as you helped carry a box inside your new home, laughing out loud at something your parents said
childhoodfriend!ushijima who was formally introduced to you when his parents invited your family for dinner one random night. he awkwardly shook your hand after you had announced to the whole room about being his new friend
childhoodfriend!ushijima who was dragged along with whatever shenanigans you wanted from that day forward. bug-catching? he was there holding the bucket. climbing trees? he was ready to catch you fall. sneaking out to buy a snack? he was somehow the one ordering
childhoodfriend!ushijima who then dragged you along to his dad's volleyball practice. he'd watch you attempt to receive the ball, only to have it bounce on your face. he was worried you'd cry from the pain, but surprisingly, you only grinned. he still threw a silent tantrum, however, when you didn't share his level of enthusiasm about volleyball
childhoodfriend!ushijima who appreciated your presence at his games. he'd listen to your cheers—specifically just for him—before throwing the ball upwards for his killer serves. he couldn't hide his satisfaction whenever you'd yell, "no touch ace wakatoshi!" for the whole court to hear
childhoodfriend!ushijima who does not deny liking you when tendou teased him. he does indeed like you—you were his childhood best friend, so why wouldn't he like you? when he said this to tendou, he got laughed at, much to his confusion
childhoodfriend!ushijima who was always by your side during break, lunch, and after practise. he walked you to your classroom before he went to his, waited for you outside your room for lunch, and reserved a spot for you in the gym to watch him train (even when coach washijou forbade it)
childhoodfriend!ushijima who sometimes wonder why his heart beats faster when you smile than when he's on his fifth lap around the campus. he didn't understand why his face always felt warm whenever you hold his hand or lay your head on his shoulder. he consulted tendou about his cardiovascular worries, only to be laughed at his face again
childhoodfriend!ushijima who connected the dots after seeing you do a poor attempt at a jump serve. he watched you hide your face in embarrassment and felt his heart spike when you complimented him as a top ace of japan. well, tendou also helped when he straight-up said his crush on you was obvious to everyone except the two of you (he tried to deny it at first, but tendou was seriously at his wit's end)
childhoodfriend!ushijima who didn't wait for any opportunity to confess. he did so while walking you back to your dorm building. he'd admit that it was unromantic of him to just plainly admit he liked you and wanted to pursue a romantic relationship via a formal courtship, but all that mattered was that you agreed
childhoodfriend!ushijima who still acted like nothing had changed—except for the fact that there was a romantic undertone to everything he does to you. suddenly, he was more expressive, wishing you good luck on every little thing and complimenting you in the most random way possible. tendou chastised him, but he couldn't think of why saying "i see you grew a few centimetres taller," was wrong
childhoodfriend!ushijima who nearly teared up when you accepted him as your boyfriend. he felt his heart stop at the word "yes," before he had engulfed you in a hug. he didn't even realise he had hugged you. he had a small, genuine smile on his face as he promised to treasure you for as long as he'd live. you called him dramatic, but he pointed out the obvious flush on your face and the massive smile on your lips
childhood best friends to lovers trope fits ushijima so much
NOTE. contains a bit of alcohol content—though nothing too explicit or anything concerning <33
It always started the same way—kind of like an inside joke that grew wings, feathers, a tab, and Ushijima’s name on the reservation list.
Ushijima never initiated going out drinking with his Schweiden Adlers teammates. In fact, he rarely said anything about it at all. It was always someone else who mentioned it after a game. Always someone else who slung an arm over his shoulder and declared, “C’mon, Ushiwaka, we have to celebrate,” even though Ushijima had never once expressed interest in alcohol, bar food, or drunken conversations.
Still, he always went.
Because it’d be rude if he didn’t at least stay for a few minutes, he thinks.
Sometimes he showed up in his team windbreaker, sometimes in a long, dark gray coat that made him look like a trench-wearing monument of silence. And he never said no, even when the clamor of celebration was already grating at the edges of his patience.
Tonight was one of those nights.
They’d won by the skin of their teeth—an overtime set against a grueling opponent, the kind of match that made even the benchwarmers feel like champions by the end. So of course Heiwajima had started the round-up in the locker room. Hoshiumi had shouted over everyone about their lucky bar down the street, and within twenty minutes, the entire team had found themselves in their regular private suite.
Ushijima sat at the end of the table, his back straight, a glass in front of him filled with alcohol he didn’t particularly like. His teammates were loud and loose and chaotic—laughing at Sokolov trying to arm-wrestle the bar’s bouncer, clapping every time someone dropped a fork, and yelling across the table in at least three different languages.
“A thousand yen says he’ll ask about his wife in twenty minutes,” Hoshiumi said quietly, leaning toward their captain, Hirugami Fukurou.
“You’re giving him way too much credit,” Romero replied, fondly grinning. “He gets wistful around minute twelve.”
“He gets wistful the moment he sits down.”
Ushijima was unmoved. He stared at his drink, took a single sip, and let it rest in his hand. He didn’t participate in the yelling, the toasts, or the story someone was animatedly telling about a missed serve from three seasons ago. He just existed—quietly, stoically—as a satellite to the chaos.
Except, of course, they all knew he was waiting.
He always was.
There was a pattern to the transformation. First, he’d sit there like stone. Then he’d blink a little more slowly. His brows would draw together—not in anger, but in vague confusion, like he was lost in a thought he couldn’t solve. His fingers would move against his glass, not to drink but to fidget, just a little.
And then…
“Has anyone seen my phone?” Ushijima asked, barely louder than the buzz of conversation.
Hoshiumi slid it across the table immediately. “Right here, Ushiwaka. Sorry! We took a few pictures here and there.”
“Thank you.”
He looked down at the screen. It was still lit with the last message from you from earlier that day: Good luck, baby. Don’t forget to stretch your left shoulder. He’d never replied—he never did, not when he was already in headspace—but now, he stared at it like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.
“You want to text her?” Hoshiumi asks, lightly teasing, which Ushijima didn’t catch onto.
Ushijima didn’t answer. He opened the thread and typed a few letters. Deleted them. Typed something else. Backspaced. Then just stared.
And then finally: “She hasn’t replied.”
His teammates laughed.
“There it is!”
“It’s only been seventeen minutes! I win!”
“No, you cheated. I said ten, and he didn’t even check his phone until minute twelve!”
“Shh, shh, look at him—he’s pouting.”
“Wait, is this the pout phase? I thought that came after the silent brooding phase.”
“Technically we’re entering pout-brood overlap. It’s a dangerous time.”
Ushijima didn’t argue. He simply set the phone down again and folded his hands in front of him. Kageyama leaned over.
“You want me to call her for you, Ushijima-san?”
Ah, yes. Kageyama was too nice for his own good. Trying to enhance his socialization and trying to lessen his awkwardness with his teammates when the conversation didn’t revolve around volleyball.
Ushijima nodded. Just once. Immediately. “Yes.”
...
“Amazing! He’s not even trying to hide it.”
“Can you imagine being that in love?”
“He just wants his wife. Look at him. He’s a whole sad poem in one sitting.”
“She’s gonna get here, and he’s gonna light up like a lantern.”
“May this love run me over.”
Kageyama stood and walked a few paces away from the table, already dialing your number. Meanwhile, the others watched Ushijima sip his drink again—not because he wanted it, but because it gave his hands something to do. His eyes were glued to the screen even though no new notifications had appeared.
Romero leaned in conspiratorially to Hirugami. “Do you think she talks to him in, like, soft tones? Calls him ‘baby’ and stuff?”
“I think so,” he shrugs. “I think they’re sweet like that.”
“Aw, young love.”
The teasing continued, but it softened. Because underneath the jokes and the laughs was a sort of awe.
Their teammate—so serious, so focused, so unreadable on court—was completely and utterly soft when it came to his wife. Not in a loud way. Not in any way that could be easily teased, really. It was quiet. Heavy. Real.
When Kageyama returned, he had a pleased expression. “She’s on her way. Said she just got off work and is driving over.”
Ushijima gave another slow blink.
“Thank you.”
Kageyama nods. Somehow they manage to have conversations even if they just continue nodding to each other.
As soon as Kageyama said it, his phone buzzed with a new message. He didn’t even need to open it. He could tell by the way his entire body relaxed by a single, barely noticeable degree.
Sorry, hun. Just got off work. Are you okay?
He replied.
I’m okay. I miss you.
And then he set the phone down and folded his hands again, this time with more calm. More certainty. You were coming. That was all he needed to know.
The others noticed the shift immediately.
“He smiled.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“He did! Don’t argue with me; I saw it. It was micro. But it counted.”
“He’s already halfway out the door with his heart.”
“Watch, the second she walks through that door, he’ll go full puppy mode.”
Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, the door opened. A gust of cold air followed you inside, along with the soft jingle of the bar’s entrance bell. You spotted them easily—your eyes landing on Ushijima before anything else. And his entire body seemed to change shape.
He stood up—not quickly, but instantly, with a kind of gravity no one else in the room had.
You smiled as you approached, slipping out of your coat and brushing off the cold that nipped your nose softly. “Hi, love,” you greeted softly. “You ready to go?”
“Yes,” Ushijima said, already reaching for his jacket.
As he shrugged it on, you turned to the table. “Hope he wasn’t too much trouble?”
Hoshiumi leaned on the table with a grin. “[Name], your husband is the definition of ‘not trouble.’ We’re just grateful you came to collect him before he sighed himself into the carpet.”
“Tell them what he said!” someone shouted.
“He asked if anyone had seen his phone like it was a national emergency.”
“And he didn’t pout—he brooded. Like a man out of a romantic novel.”
“I think I did,” Ushijima just nodded at their comments about him.
He then stood by quietly, waiting for you to finish your goodbyes. When you looped your arm through his, he leaned ever so slightly toward you.
As they left, Romero raised his glass.
“To [Name]’s husband,” he declared. The table cheered.
Outside, as you two walked toward the car, you glanced up at him, fingers tightening around his arm.
“You really okay?” you asked.
He hummed. Then, in that low, steady voice only you ever got to hear, it softened—
“I missed you,” he said again. “They were loud. I wanted to see you very much.”
You smiled and gave his arm a firm, loving squeeze. “Well. I’m here now.”
domesticity with ushijima is such a turn on. specially because he doesn't seem like the type of guy at all. but surprisingly ever since you moved in with your career driven boyfriend, you can't help but notice certain things like
the way you both brush your teeth at the same tiny bathroom sink even though he knows both of you can't fit in there. or the way he silently replaces your favorite shampoo before it runs out and how he pushes the grocery cart while you lean over the handlebar and toss things in, his hand finding the small of your back as you debate between pasta sauces in aisle four, and how he has to duck his head to kiss you good morning because he forgot to duck through the bedroom doorway again. he definately lets you steal the warm spot in bed when he gets up at dawn and then crawls back in just to press his cold feet against your calves and listen to you yelp.
and he'd definitely study your body like it's his second career - learning exactly where to touch, exactly how much pressure, exactly when you're close. and when he's inside you, when he's being rougher, his hands don't grab your throat or your wrists like you expect from a man his size - no, his hands find the headboard, white knuckling the wood, muscles in his arms trembling with restraint because he's terrified of hurting you, because he's so much bigger and he knows it, because he'd rather splinter the bedframe than bruise your hips, and after, when you're shaking and boneless, he cleans you up with a warm washcloth with the same focus he gives his spreadsheets, brings you water, pulls you against his chest. oh it turns you on so bad. ♡
Pervroommate!Ushijima, who’s routine is waking up early in the morning to cook breakfast for you, while being rock hard because he couldn’t stop thinking about last night where he overheard you moaning off your vibrator.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who needs to take care of his situation so he decides to add an “extra” ingredient to your drink. He knows it’s a disgusting act, but he can’t help himself.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who brings you the food and watches you drink up the milkshake. “What did you put in here? It tastes different?” You say. Ushijima freezing up, acting quickly to make an excuse.
PervRoommate!Ushijima making a perfect excuse, “It’s my secret ingredient. A good cook never tells his secrets.” With a sheepish smile. You, who believes it, don’t think much of it since he’s perfect and does everything for you.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who freaks out when you ask him to continue adding it, exclaiming that it tastes amazing. Not that he’s complaining or anything, he enjoys watching you slurp up all the cum filled milkshake unknowingly.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who does the laundry everyday, notices a pair of lacy pink lingerie panties with a stain of your own arousal.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who closes the door and locks it, slowly walking over to the pink panties and leaning down to pick it up. As he picks it up, he double checks to see if he locks the door and brings the panties up to his nose to sniff.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who almost cums just from the salty, sweet smell that your panties captured straight from your soft pussy.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who unzips his pants to jerk off with the pink panties, stuffing it at the tip of his hard erected dick, while beads precum leak from the top through the pink panties.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who brings the panties up to his mouth and nose, while jerking off. The sweet smell making him cum immediately.
PervRoommate!Ushijima, starting from this day, steals your used panties and makes more excuses to do the laundry more often.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who does your laundry and jerks off to the smell of your arousal once again and grunts out your name. “F-fuck y/nnn.. I’m gonna cum, i wish it was you I was fucking into..”. You, who overhears this, instantly becomes wet, because how could your serious, strong, dominant roommate be whining out your name like a dog in heat?
PervRoommate!Ushijima who overhears you rubbing your clit in your room and making cute sounds. Ushijima, who is walking over to your room, dick bulging, unzips his pants right outside the door while watching you through the space between the wall and door. He strokes his cock only a few times before cumming all over his hand.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who jumps up from shock as he hears your moans call out for him. You couldn’t possibly be masturbating to Ushijima, your perverted roommate?
PervRoommate!Ushijima who almost dies inside when he looks up and sees you looking straight at him through the door. “Ushi, dont just stand -mphm!- there. W-wanna help me?” You ask whimpering.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who starts freaking out and keeps pinching himself to make sure this isn’t a dream.
PervRoommate!Ushijima who plunges his dick inside you immediately while folding you in half, moaning and grunting into your neck, leaving bite marks too. “F-fuck y/n.. i’ve been dreaming of this for so looong..” he moans out, rubbing your clit. “Ushii, i’ve been wai-hic!-ting for this too.. ive been hump-hic!-ing your pillow while you’ve been gone..! nghh!”
PervRoommate!Ushijima who soon realizes that you too, are a pervert like him.
a/n: kinda rushed, but i love my baby ushijima sooo here you guys go 💕
Wakatoshi didn’t understand enough social cues to be a jealous man, but if that opposing setter said one more time that you, his wife, were obviously interested in him because you were kind enough to roll a ball back in his direction he might just throw a bench at him. Or at least send a spike right into his smug face.
Hoshiumi had gotten increasingly impatient and at last yelled his name, making the ace look up - or… well, down - at this teammate.
“What are you glaring at?”
With a tense jaw, Wakatoshi only nodded curtly towards the guy who didn’t seem to get the hint.
What? Was the Ushijima jersey not enough for that guy to back off? Or the kiss that you had blown to him, your husband, earlier? Or your wedding ring? He felt his hand ball into a fist as he saw you politely nodding along while the guy openly ogled your pudgy curves with a hungry grin. Wakatoshi knew you could handle yourself. But he really really really wished you’d let him step in for you.
“What are we talking about?” Hinata joined his teammates at the net, turning readily in the direction the other two were already facing.
“I dunno.”, Hoshiumi shrugged, following the line of sight of his fellow ace to land on the rival setter who did not seem to No for an answer. When he put two and two together he let out a quiet “Ew.”
“Come on, Shoyo, let’s warm up. - Huh?” Atsumu halted next to Hinata, then crossed his arms and joined the staring at the other side of the court when no one reacted, quietly trying to figure out if they were collectively having a stroke or were posing for a picture. Just in case of the latter, he popped his hip.
Bokuto bounded over, Sakusa in tow. “Hey! Coach says we should be moving!”, Bokuto called while Sakusa took one look at Wakatoshi, another across the net, and understood why his friend seemed so tense. Utilizing his years of experience in judging people he began to scowl at the setter’s back.
One after the other, the national team joined the wall of players at the net, some more for the vibes than for solidarity, and before long the power of their stares prompted the setter to turn around, finally taking his attention off you.
Confused at their intensity he looked left and then right, subtly checking who they were zeroing in on so hard, but with a cold shudder he had to realize the team was staring at him.
Hoshiumi took it upon himself to fix this very solvable problem, as the other guy apparently didn’t understand what was happening.
“That’s his wife!”, he yelled, voice twice as big as his body, as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Wakatoshi.
As if touching a hot plate the setter sprang back, bowed several times in apology to both you and the other team and scrammed.
Hoshiumi looked up at Wakatoshi. “Can we warm up now?”
a/n: Kageyama would take it as the greatest personal offense that it was the setter of all people.
Massive thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for brainstorming this one so hard and coming up with the ending for it.
category: fluff fluff fluff !! eita aging 10 years because of ushijima.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
okay. picture this.
a normal thursday afternoon at shiratorizawa academy, except the air feels a little different—like the calm before a storm, except instead of thunder and lightning, it’s ushijima wakatoshi standing at the back line of the court with a volleyball in his hand, ready to absolutely obliterate some poor libero’s arms.
and that poor libero? yeah, that’s you.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
the joint practice was supposed to be a good bonding experience. boys’ and girls’ teams working together, cheering, pushing each other to their limits. coaches on both sides thought it’d be “good for morale.” what they didn’t factor in was ushijima wakatoshi, captain of the boys’ team and human wrecking ball, deciding to serve at full power because, in his own words, “there is no point in holding back.”
so he didn’t.
and oh boy, everyone in the gym regretted it.
ushijima tossed the ball high, his arm snapped forward, and the sound of the ball leaving his hand was like a gunshot. the girls’ team collectively flinched. the boys’ team smiled like, oh yeah, here it comes.
you? you crouched low, arms out, eyes locked, like a soldier in battle.
the ball blurred through the air like a meteor about to wipe out civilization, but instead of dying on the spot, you bent your knees, cushioned the force, and passed the ball up in a textbook-perfect receive that floated right into the setter’s hands.
silence.
dead. silence.
like, the kind of silence where everyone genuinely forgot to breathe because how on earth did you just do that?
your captain broke it first, throwing her hands in the air like she’d just won the lottery.
“DID YOU SEE THAT?! DID YOU SEE THAT?! THAT’S OUR LIBERO!! THAT’S MY GIRL!!” she shrieked, voice cracking in pride.
the girls’ team exploded, screaming, clapping, losing their minds. someone actually started crying. another girl yelled, “SHE’S NOT HUMAN!!”
meanwhile, the boys’ team—absolute chaos.
semi dropped his water bottle so dramatically it rolled across the floor. shirabu had his clipboard in hand, but his jaw dropped so low he almost bit the pen he was chewing. goshiki looked like he was seeing his entire volleyball career flash before his eyes, mumbling, “she’s the future ace… i-i need to—i need to—” while tendou was doubled over, clutching his knees, wheezing.
“bro. bro. wakatoshi,” tendou gasped out, eyes bugging, “did you see that? did you SEE THAT?? she ate your serve like it was nothing—like it was breakfast—like it was a croissant—”
ushijima himself?
just standing there. blank-faced. holding another ball. except—and only tendou caught this—his eyes weren’t blank. oh no. his pupils had dilated.
this man was in an enamored state.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
practice somehow continued, but everyone was distracted. every time ushijima served at you, you got it up perfectly, like it was a game. the boys’ team started keeping track. semi made tally marks on the wall. goshiki cried a little each time. tendou was live-commentating like a sports announcer, “ladies and gentlemen, the serve cannon vs the celestial libero—WHO WILL WIN?? spoiler: it’s her, every time.”
by the end of practice, everyone was sweaty, dead tired, and rethinking their entire lives.
and then, ushijima, being the absolute blunt menace that he is, walked straight over to you while you were tying your shoelaces, crouched down so he was eye-level, and in his deep, unwavering voice said:
“you should be my girlfriend.”
the gym gasped.
like, genuinely. a collective inhale, like everyone was watching a telenovela. someone in the girls’ team dropped their knee pads. goshiki actually choked on his water. tendou clutched semi’s arm and whispered, “HE DID IT. HE ACTUALLY DID IT.”
you blinked up at him, confused. “a girl-friend ..sure?”
the silence that followed was deafening.
the girls stared at you like you’d just announced you were moving to mars. the boys stared at ushijima like what the hell did you just pull off?? tendou, ever the dramatic, collapsed onto the floor in hysterics.
and ushijima? he nodded once. “good, thank you.” and walked away like nothing happened.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
except it wasn’t nothing. oh no.
from that day forward, ushijima acted like you were officially dating. meanwhile, you, in your blissful obliviousness, thought he meant “girl-friend,” like, friend who is a girl. you even told your captain, “it’s nice that ushijima wants to be friends, he’s so straightforward,” and she looked like she was about to pass out.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
it started small. ushijima always waiting for you after practice. not just sometimes—every time. standing outside the gym doors, holding his bag, as if escorting you out was his life mission.
the girls whispered like crazy. “oh my god, he’s WAITING for her.” “is that a thing?? do guys just—do that??”
the boys heckled him relentlessly.
“ushijima, you’re whipped,” semi teased.
“he’s not whipped, he’s—he’s IN SHAMBLES,” tendou corrected, cackling.
goshiki, inspired, started journaling about it. “note to self: one day, i too will have a girlfriend like that.”
shirabu just rolled his eyes but even he couldn’t stop glancing at you two walking off together.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
and you… you were falling, slowly but surely.
you liked the way he was so honest. how he never sugarcoated anything, but somehow it never came off harsh (that only goes for you sometimes). how he noticed things without you telling him. like when you forgot your water bottle, he handed you his without a word. when you limped slightly one day, he tied your shoelaces tighter, double-knotting them before you could stop him.
and he didn’t talk much, but he always… understood.
which made your heart do stupid flips, even though you still thought you were just “friends.”
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
of course, the teams made it everyone’s business.
tendou once shouted across the cafeteria, “HEY, LOVE BIRDS, WANT ME TO SCOOT OVER SO YOU CAN SIT TOGETHER??” and ushijima literally did. he picked up your tray, sat next to you, and continued eating like it was nothing. you almost choked on your rice.
goshiki begged you for “the court seraph advice” while sneaking glances at ushijima like, is this what having a cool girlfriend looks like??
semi played wingman without being asked, constantly nudging ushijima and whispering way too loudly, “compliment her hair. say something about her receive. come on, captain.”
and he tries to, telling semi to listen on how good it is. “your hair reduces air resistance. that’s good.”
“HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO FLATTER HER BY CALLING HER AERODYNAMIC??” semi was losing hair, “try again. about her receives this time.”
the olive haired guy nodded and went up to you.
“when you received that serve, the ball did not touch the ground.” you gave him a confused smile. what you can see behind him is semi’s soul popping out of his body and tendou dying of laughter.
“ARE YOU TRYING TO WRITE HER WEDDING VOWS OR A MATCH SUMMARY?!” poor semi’s getting wrinkles.
shirabu… well, he muttered “unbelievable” every five minutes, but he still covered for you guys when the coach was around, so maybe he was rooting for you deep down.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
and ushijima?
he didn’t need words. he just showed you.
the way he always walked on the side of the sidewalk closer to the road.
the way he carried your bag without asking.
the way his eyes softened—just barely—every time you nailed a receive at practice.
you didn’t notice it at first. but everyone else did.
everyone.
and they were going insane.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
because the truth was… ushijima wakatoshi, the stoic, unshakable ace of shiratorizawa, was love-struck.
and he wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers; you wouldn’t be able to.
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
a/n: ushijima is so unintentionally funny, i’m gonna choke on air. also don’t you love how ominous i am?
a/n. i got requests for suga + osamu, so here’s pt5 lol :3 i’m actually so happy everyone seems to love this little series <3 edit: i got another req for suna so i just added him to this post
links to pt1, pt2, pt3, and pt4
☆ — SUGAWARA
when you argue with him. he thinks it’s so cute to watch you huff and puff at him, trying to get your point across. it’s honestly no use, because he’s only focused on your lips and the way your body looks when you cross your arms like that. when you eventually call him out for basically eye fucking you, he just smiles and reaches out to pull you closer. you’re melting within minutes when he starts kissing and nipping at your skin, and you know you’re doomed when he starts sliding your shirt off.
"you know… instead of arguing, how about you use your mouth to moan my name instead?"
☆ — OSAMU
when you cook with him. i feel like this one may be a bit obvious or cliche, but he just cannot resist the sight of you in a little apron insisting that you help him cook. he can’t help but imagine you wearing only the apron and letting him bend you over the kitchen counter to shove his cock into you. he can’t let the food burn though, so it’ll have to wait…
"you know what you’re doing to me, right?"
☆ — USHIJIMA
he likes when you let him do stuff for you. his love language is definitely acts of service, and a part of him gets off to doing certain things for you. he knows you’re perfectly capable, but it just gets his brain going. when he helps you with your hair, or with your shoes or clothes, he always imagines you in a different position. don’t even get him started on your sweet little 'thank you!'‘s you give him whenever he helps with anything. it makes him want to grab you and give you something to really thank him for.
"i’ll help you, darling."
☆ — KIYOKO
when you kiss her mole. it makes her heart jump every time, because she knows exactly what it’ll lead to. you’ll start there, but then you’re kissing at her lips next, sliding your tongue against hers. it doesn’t have to escalate from there, but she always pulls you closer for more because she’s already growing wet from the simple action. it’s sweet, yet so charming all at once. she’s a total goner.
"mmh… that feels nice."
☆ — SUNA
he loves giving you head, it’s his favorite thing. the way you get all whiny and squirmy when he keeps going even after you cum is addicting. your cries of "rin! wait— too much!" never fail to get him painfully hard in his boxers. he wants to fuck you so badly, but he just can’t pull away, always needing to taste more of you. he‘ll grind against the mattress on occasion, but he can barely even focus on anything else when your moans are echoing in his ears and your legs are twitching so cutely.
"quit pushing me away, baby. you can cum again, right?"
