#ushiwaka

ushijima wakatoshi x reader ; fluff

the shiratorizawa volleyball gym is dead silent, the rest of the team having fled on the early bus before a sudden, violent summer thunderstorm turned the campus paths into rushing rivers. the wind is rattling the heavy glass windows of the locker room.

​you’re standing by the benches, rubbing your arms through your uniform blazer to shake off the chill, when ushijima walks out of the shower stall. he’s fully dressed in his white-and-purple tracksuit, his dark hair damp and slightly messy.

​he looks at you. he looks at your shivering shoulders. he walks forward with long, heavy strides, stops directly in front of you, and unzips his jacket.

​without asking, he reaches out, pulls you forward by the waist, and tucks you directly inside the massive fabric of his track jacket, zipping it halfway back up so you’re physically pinned against his chest. he is radiating an unbelievable, furnace-like heat, his broad torso completely shielding you from the drafty room.

​“wakatoshi,” you gasp, your face pressed flat against his collarbone. “you’re huge, i can barely move my arms.”

​“movement is unnecessary at this time,” he rumbles, his chest vibrating heavily against your cheek as he wraps his massive arms around the outside of the jacket, locking you into place like a vice. he drops his chin heavily onto the top of your head, his breathing deep and steady. “your body heat is insufficient for this climate. my mass is greater, therefore i’ll regulate your temperature.”

​“tendō is going to walk back in here to look for his umbrella,” you mumble, your face burning up against his skin.

​“let him,” ushijima says flatly, his grip tightening just a fraction, his large hand pressing firmly into the small of your back to anchor you completely against his heartbeat. “he knows that i’m stubborn. i will not release you until the downpour ceases and your hands are no longer cold. stand still.”

n: for my twin, @forgottensniper forget my follo misspellings, this is a bribe

© showhay — don’t copy, repost, or translate without my permission. do not use/feed my works to AI.

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 whole 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 dick on and out your tight pussy.

all you could do was continue moaning and gasping for air and staining your sheets with cum. you 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 fingers. 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 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..

a sight for him to fill his feral urges.

ft. ushijima x y/n ◞♡ cw ! slightly suggestive

͏͏boyfriend!ushijima whose large hands splay over your side when he wants to pass by, always finding your waist even when there’s enough space for him to slip through.

“Toshi, can you grab the tomato sauce from the cabinet?”

“Of course.”

You don’t even have time to prepare before his cold fingers slide across your stomach, thumbs brushing over your hip bones as he reaches past you. The pot in your hands wobbles, nearly tipping into the sink, as heat rushes to your face.

He tilts his head down at you, voice low, “You okay, baby?”

(You’re not.)

boyfriend!ushijima whose large fingers find your face when he doesn't have your full attention.

You’re scrolling through your TikTok feed when he calls your name. “Did you hear me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, still not looking up.

Moments , his hand is on your face, fingers spanning your cheek, thumb pressing lightly against your jaw. He turns your head toward him with a careful grip until your eyes meet his.

“Now you're listening,” he says simply. (hell yea I am)

You swallow hard, phone forgotten as you meet his olive eyed stare.

boyfriend!ushijima whose hands hook beneath your thighs when he picks you up like it’s effortless.

You sharply gasp in surprise when your feet suddenly leave the ground, his hands firm and steady on the backs of your thighs. He lifts you with no effort, your arms instinctively looping around his shoulders.

“Toshi! what are you doing?”

His gaze doesn’t waver, calm as ever. “Carrying you.”

Your breath stutters as his fingers flex against your skin, thumbs brushing dangerously close to the curve beneath you.

He draws his eyebrows together in confusion. “Is this uncomfortable?”

It’s not. (at least not in the way he's thinking)

boyfriend!ushijima whose hand closes around your wrist when you try to walk out after an argument.

Your voice is still sharp in the air when you turn toward the door, anger burning a hole though your chest. But before you can reach the handle, his fingers wrap firmly around your wrist, halting you mid-step.

His hand is so large it nearly swallows yours whole, grip unyielding but never hurtful. You tug once, twice, but he doesn’t let go.

"Toshi let go of me, I cant do this right now."

“Don’t leave.” His voice is steady, but there’s something raw beneath it. His thumb brushes once against your pulse, the faintest tremor in the gesture.

You don’t look back, not wanting to give in without a proper apology.

so much more than just friends 🥹

Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader | Drabble-Ish?

Ushijima, your husband who was now a father of two, gave out his left index finger out with a smile in hopes of his second two-month old to reach out and hold his father’s finger with his entire hand.

To his surprise, the baby grabs it on with his left hand, fingers wrapped around with a slight grip. Ushijima’s eyes widened, surely it was coincidence that his finger was grabbed by his son’s left hand. His heart softened, cooing quietly at his son with a smile,

“Will you have my gift too one day?”

As your eldest daughter was teaching your three year old son how to hold a crayon since he’s been interested in his older sister’s hobby, she became confused as to why her brother’s dominant hand wasn’t his right hand.

Her eyebrows furrows as she tries to introduce a purple crayon to him after convincing him to switch colors with her by laying it in front of him after both his hands were empty. He picks it up once more with his left hand, dragging the stick swiftly across the paper.

As papers continue to scatter across the table full of color, the door unlocks and Ushijima comes home, both of them racing to greet him.

“Hello, my princess and prince. What have you been up to today? Where’s your mother?”

“Mama.. nap time…”

Ushijima chuckled a little, oh how your sweet husband is excited to wake you up with a kiss again after your long day.

His daughter guides his hand to the table, covered with all the artwork they’ve made within the past two hours. Ushijima skims through the scribbles and stick portraits made by the two kids,

“My little artists have been busy today, hm? Let me take a look after i’ve cleaned up..”

Your daughter jumps into his train of thought,

“And! He holds the crayons with his left hand, not his right like I do!”

Ushijima beamed with a smile, kissing his son’s crown.

“He’s just like your dada, he has a little gift.”

your husband ushijima lets your kids play pretend with him whenever they want. despite his harder and more indifferent exterior, he’s awfully soft whenever his babies ask to have a little playtime. it’s not anything unusual for you to walk into the living room and see him strangely invested in acting as a princess during a pretend tea party with your daughter, or being the co-pilot on a fake flight with your son. he’s obedient and, to your amusement, plays along with anything your little angels request.

the other day you had walked into your daughter’s bedroom to find ushijima sitting cross legged on her pink rug, covered in sparkly hair clips as she used a fake blow dryer to dry his hair. his hair had gotten soaken wet after she gave him a fake scalp massage at her “hair salon.” when she’d finished her treatments, you found ushijima walking around the house with a, to say the least, terrifyingly beautiful makeover of blue eyeshadow, cheeks flushed an artificial hot pink, and a complimenting purple colored lipstick on his lips. his hair was brushed out in any and every direction, probably because the cheap toy hairbrushes your daughter has do nothing but tangle and get caught in the stands. the fake scissors worked great in giving him a nice trim off the top, though.

after washing off the cheap children’s makeup from his face before he could get some type of reaction, he can’t even catch a break to relax on the couch. before he has more than a minute to himself, your son comes toddling into the living room begging to play doctor and give him a “check up.” nothing ushijima won’t say no to for his little ones, so he lays down and allows your son to use a plastic toy stethoscope to check places a stethoscope can’t actually check. rather than checking the beating of his heart, your son uses it on his legs and arms to check for any injuries he may have gotten from volleyball. after that he injects a “special medicine” using a needle into ushijima’s. . . forehead? before finally completing the most important part of any checkup, using a thermometer to check for a fever by placing it across his abdomen. no problems, guess he’s all set!

masterlist | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @mires765 @amaliaaliena

a/n: can’t stop won’t stop with these baby hcs