quaranteehee - Tumblr blog

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

dance with me

— a valentine’s fic

synopsis: that "hi i need a plus one for this party and i was hoping it'd be you' fic

cw: no curses au, fem reader, soft toji, satosugu & shokohime appearances, legal age gap, (attempt at) fluff, baby gumi <3, dabbling into rich people doing rich people things // wc: 4.2k

an: happy valentine's babes! have fun and hope all like this <33

“No,” Toji says, turning away from you and busying himself with fixing up a dinner for himself and his son—you know, the five year old toddler who is watching CoComelon in the other room right now.

You groan, slumping down on the stool and resting your head on the island table. “But I was dared to,” you tell him, your whines muffled by the marble tabletop. Toji just grunts, his voice lost to the sounds of clattering plates and clanking silverware. You distinctly remember Megumi asking for his panda-designed chopsticks and your heart melts a bit.

“And it’s still not my problem,” Toji quips. You look up, still resting your chin on the table as you watch him make another plate. You realize it is for you and your heart melts for another time. “Why’re you even hellbent on winning the stupid dare? Last I checked, you always did the punishments when the fuckers ask too much from you.”

You groan again because he’s fucking right. Every time Satoru or Suguru demand too much risque stuff from you (“Kiss Shoko.”; “Break into Yaga-san’s office and try stealing your student file.”; “Fight Sukuna- okay fine, just Mahito, then.”), you usually backed out and ran around doing whatever petty penalty they had in store for you. Satoru even called you boring for not completing a single dangerous dare.

But you just cannot back out this time, it seems. Not when Satoru pulled that shit on you.

“I can’t,” you say, running your palms on your face as if to wipe away the futility of your predicament. “Satoru told me the punishment this time and I know I can’t do it.”

Toji hums, turning off the stove and facing you. “Why, what’s it this time?”

You swallow, looking away. “...thousand yen.”

“What?”

“…I have to pay Satoru fifty thousand yen.”

A pause. “Wait, what the fuck?”

You nod, bumping your forehead on his table again, a pained moan scratching at your throat. “I know!” You whine, stretching out your words.

You hear him shuffle close to you, settling on the empty stool by your side. You peer at him when you feel his warm hand rest on your shoulder, coaxing you to look at him. Toji’s face is pinched, worry and surprise are meshed together, tied by awkwardness as if he doesn’t know if he should comfort you or not. You laugh.

He rolls his eyes. “Why do you owe him that much, anyway?”

You blink, wanting to look away again but Toji is pinning you with that look and you know you wouldn’t have another chance to explain because Megumi would soon be crying for dinner. You cough, clearing your throat. “Well,” you begin, “He has some blackmail material on me and if I don’t want that secret to be aired out, I could either pay up or complete the dare.”

Toji just rolls his eyes again. “You really allowed him to have some shit over you?”

You shrug. “He found it out by accident.”

(You think back about that time in your fourth year in university, stumbling out of your dorm room only to see Satoru gaping at something on you and Shoko’s kitchen table. You remember being hungover, pounding head only focused on grabbing a glass of water to abate the rising nausea. You didn’t even question why Satoru was in your dorm or if Shoko made it back after leaving the party with her girlfriend. It was only when you plopped beside Satoru and he gestured at the scattering of papers in his hand that you learned what he was so shocked about.

“You submitted an article about your attraction to a widower?” Satoru asked, blue eyes bulged out as he pointed at your prose outline, the one that you wrote with Toji in mind.

“Uh,” you answered unintelligently, not knowing how to explain that yes, you submitted the Toji-inspired paper and won an award which led to said paper being published in the university’s journal. Or that yes, the article was about your yearning for Toji, your then-employer and the father of the boy you used to babysit.

“What the hell,” Satoru wheezed out as if he got what you were struggling to say before his beautiful and punchable face broke out into a shit-eating grin. “Damn, babe.”

At that moment, you knew that Satoru would dangle this over your head. And that despite his promises of not telling anyone, except Suguru because there is not one universe where those two do not share everything between each other, you still knew that he would hold this information over your head along with a request that he knows you would not be able to reject.

You just didn’t expect it to be used for a single dare.)

“So let me get this straight,” Toji begins, breaking you from your reminiscing. “You have to bring a plus one to this function or else Gojo would ask you to pay him fifty thousand yen?”

You nod.

He pauses. “Does it have to be me?”

Technically no, you think because it really didn’t have to be him. But this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance that your menace of a best friend presented to you so yeah, it has to be Toji.

“Yes,” you whisper, willing your heart to calm down lest Toji catches onto your lie. “Unless you expect me to pay then never mind.”

Toji laughs, genuine and joyous, throwing his head back in elation. You feel yourself smile.

When his laughter trickles off and the oven beeps, signalling their cooked dinner, Toji shoots you a wide grin. “Fuck it, sure, lemme be your plus one.”

You celebrate, jumping off your seat and launching yourself into his arms. “I don’t have to be broke!” You scream and Toji laughs again, loud and booming. You giggle along, trying your very best to quiet down your heart because fuck, it feels like any moment now it would jump out to your throat and wedge itself with Toji’s.

You shadow Toji as he serves dinner, the familiarity of their house rolling off of you as you take Megumi’s panda-designed drinking cup from the cupboards, preparing Toji’s tea mug, and setting the table with the usual navy blue placemats. You fill the doggy bowls with dog food and set aside two others for water. When Toji picks up Megumi from the living room, you open the door from the backyard and whistle, watching as Shiro and Kuro race towards you. The clacks of their paws are mirrored by Megumi’s shuffling feet and the three meet in between, with Megumi getting tackled by the hounds.

“Shiro, Kuro no!” Toji exclaims but his words fall on deaf ears as the dogs continue to lick at Megumi, the boy breaking out in hearty giggles to which you laugh along.

Dinner with the Fushiguros has always been a loud and joyous moment, after all.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Satoru’s jaw falls open. “No way,” he says.

You grin. “Yes way, bottom bitch boy.”

He groans, flopping on his king-sized mattress, dramatically throwing his arms on his face. “Why’d he agree?!”

You silently scoff at his reaction before chucking a plush pillow at his beautiful face. You shoot an innocent smile his way, flirtingly batting your eyelashes at him when he whipped the pillow away from his face to glare at you.

“Bitch!” Satoru says, seething. You send him a loud flying kiss in response, laughing when he exaggeratedly avoids the invisible kiss mark. The moment dwindles and dissipates when he settles on his bed again, pulling you to rest on him, your head pillowed by his chiselled stomach.

“So what’re you really here for?” Satoru asks, playing with your hair. Your eyes flutter close, body sagging in relaxation as thin fingers massage your scalp.

“What do I wear?” You ask a moment later; a reply to his own question.

Satoru coughs out a surprised chuckle. “Baby, you tryna cuff a man?”

“Yeah,” you say, sighing dreamily, thinking about a future with Toji. A future that you really think could be possible—you remember fleeting touches and even more fleeting looks; of shared smiles and warm embraces; the familiarity with each other’s presence.

Satoru fake gags at your reaction and you roll your eyes at his childishness, whacking him with his pillow again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You open the door, mouth instantly drying at the sight of Toji.

He is dressed in a pure black three-piece suit, completely foregoing the tie and leaving two buttons loose, instead, which allowed his shirt to show off his sharp collarbones and the tan of his skin. His hair is pushed back delicately, quiffed using only a minimal amount of gel, making him look older but sharper, more handsome but less familiar. Your eyes stray to his glossy full lips, the lip balm he put on successfully showing off his beautiful scar even more.

“Wow,” you whisper, breathless and whimpery like Toji holds all the oxygen in the world and you are dying at the edges of his fingertips.

He laughs. “You are wow yourself,” he says and your breath hitches at the genuinity of his words, the way his voice curls as if choking on an emotion. You smile, feeling yourself blush.

Toji presents his hand. “Let’s go?”

You clasp your hand together with his, smiling as he leads you to his car. The smile grows bigger and fonder when Toji opens the door for you, his own face relaxed and gentle. You watch as Toji races to his own side, and you bite at your bottom lip to reign in the desire and the yearning and the squealing, even, because Toji looks especially regal tonight.

You smooth your face into normalcy when he gets in, turning to send you a smile before reaching for something in the backseat. Your lungs fully collapse when Toji hands you a bouquet of red and gold roses, wrapped in matte black paper and finished with a big black bow.

“Happy Valentines from me and ‘Gumi,” Toji says, scarred lips pulled back in a proud smile.

There is a desire coiling at the pit of your stomach, almost taking full control of your nerves. Later, you would imagine what could’ve happened if you just pulled Toji in for a kiss, letting your lips show him how much you actually love him. Perhaps you two might even miss the function altogether, leaving to have fun with each other. Screw the penalty, you would just pay Satoru with your savings.

But you snap back in control, fingers twitching, desire dampened at the thought of ruining your friendship with Toji. So instead, you smile, gentle and sweet, pulling Toji into an embrace—one that he returns, his arms coming up to hug you just as tightly. You whisper, “Thank you, Toji-san. Happy Valentines.”

When you two separate, green eyes dance over your features and you show him just how happy you are right there with him, glowing because of his affections. His eyes crinkle as he smiles, and then you two are driving off to the dinner place.

The car ride was pleasant, the radio a muted background noise as you and Toji talk about life, often lingering around what happened to work on this-and-that day, complaining about so-and-so. Toji also tells you about Megumi, how his little boy is currently having a sleepover party with Yuuji-kun and Nobara-chan with the Itadoris.

“You’d think they’re the ones with plans tonight since they’re the couple, but they said they promised Yuu-kun to celebrate with him,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s so cute! I remember how Gumi-chan didn't even have friends in daycare so I’m happy that he has two now,” you tell Toji, smiling at the memory of picking up the two-year old only to see him crouching down beside a stray cat, one of the daycare workers sitting in silence with him.

“Yeah,” Toji says, sounding like he was also thinking about Megumi from three years ago.

You two fall into a comfortable silence and you take that time to study Toji again, cataloguing every corner of present-him into your memory. There are not enough words to describe his beauty, let alone how you feel at seeing him like this in person. Satoru says you are just being dramatic and perhaps you are, but that doesn’t change the fact that Toji makes you feel so alive, leaving you tongue-tied, sure, but what is unrequited love if not that?

“Wanna take a picture, doll? Heard it lasts longer,” Toji says cheekily, grinning at you.

You pause before grinning back at him. “Sure,” you reply because you absolutely want a picture. You hear him sputter, not expecting you to agree, but you are already pulling your phone from your purse and angling the camera to capture you and Toji together.

He shoots the screen a lazy smile, looking as if you hadn’t just rendered him speechless for a quick minute. You send the picture to your group chat. You see Satoru already typing, sending multiple responses of just emojis. You leave him on read.

“We look good together,” you say absentmindedly, looking at the picture, even though your eyes are only trained on Toji.

You hear him cough before wheezing out, “Yeah, we do.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The hotel that Satoru made reservations at is a lot fancier than the usual ones from past functions. It’s bigger too, and you begin to wonder what the purpose of the dinner party is because you are sure that the old people mingling about are Satoru and Suguru’s families, the very people they don’t usually invite.

“We celebrating somethin’ bigger?” Toji asks, eyeing the large ballroom space, studying the white and gold details on the walls.

It looks like a wedding venue and you are beginning to panic.

Someone calls your name and you turn, seeing Shoko marching towards you with Utahime, both of them looking so beautiful in their matching dresses. You’re still not used to seeing Shoko’s long hair, often you even find yourself only remembering what she used to look like back when you two were roommates.

You laugh when Shoko hugs you. “It’s been so long!” You say before turning to hug Utahime, this one far gentler compared to Shoko’s full-on body slam. “How’s Kyoto?”

Utahime beams, telling you stories about her teaching career and you nod, engrossed as she begins telling you about her students. She tumbles into complaints, but you can see how happy she is and you feel your lips tug up in a smile, feeding off of her joy.

Shoko enters the conversation. “Who are you with?”

You startle, so used to being the single one in your friend group that you forgot about Toji for a quick moment. You turn to him, apologetic, but he just waves it off, chuckling at your embarrassed grimace. You beckon him close and he moves to stand beside you, and you jolt when you feel his hand rest on the small of your back.

You see Shoko’s eyes shoot open, turning to you in question. Utahime, bless her, still looks lost.

You clear your throat. “This is Toji-san, my date. Toji-san, these are my friends, Shoko and Utahime.”

“Nice to meet you,” Toji greets, hand not leaving where it rests on your back even as he holds out his free hand to both of your friends. Shoko shakes it slowly, her eyes still locked to you and you want to throw your purse at her face because she’s being too obvious, it’s making you ballistic.

“Nice to finally meet you, sir,” Utahime greets. You snap your head at her, feeling shocked and betrayed, before remembering that she’s just as conniving as Shoko.

“Thanks?” Toji responds, blissfully lost. You continue squinting at Utahime, eye twitching when she just sends you a beautiful, innocent smile.

Shoko clears her throat and you all look at her. “Okay I’m just gonna say it, but does it look like we’re in the blind to whatever Satoru and Suguru planned?”

Utahime groans, nodding her head emotionally. “Right?” She says. “This doesn’t look like the normal stuff, I mean, they even invited their families!”

You hum, sweeping another look at the ballroom. More people are arriving, dressed up in clan kimonos and you grimace at how out-of-place you four look. Then, strawling with their usual grandeur, you see the men of the party.

Dressed in matching grey suits with black dress shirts, Satoru and Suguru walk in, holding hands. Suguru cut his hair short, not entirely that short but it’s certainly not as long as before, black locks only reaching his collarbones now. For some reason this shocks you a lot and you turn to Shoko who is just as surprised as you.

Satoru, for once, is not wearing his sunglasses but you can see them picking through the chest pocket of his suit. His blue eyes scan the large room and you see him brighten up when he sees you and your cluster of outsiders.

He waves and you instinctively wave back, squeaking when heads turn to you. You hide behind Toji’s bigger body, smacking him lightly when he laughs.

Satoru and Suguru greet people, but they are resolutely moving towards the centre space of the ballroom, long legs striding in tandem until they are placed on the spotlight. Suguru’s smile is small and polite, but Satoru is full-on grinning, pearly teeth shining as he studies the room.

It’s such a funny thing because there is no background music, only shuffling feet and occasional clearing of throats. You even begin feeling antsy when neither of your friends break the silence, cringing in secondhand embarrassment.

Then Satoru claps as if everyone’s attention isn’t on them already. “Hi everyone!” He greets, voice booming across the room. “Thank you for coming tonight! Suguru and I have a very special announcement!”

You share a look with Shoko, then with Toji, the older man quirking an amused eyebrow at you. You poke out the tip of your tongue at him and he huffs in amusement, looking at you with endearment. Your heart squeezes.

“Suguru and I are engaged!” Satoru exclaims, his voice echoing in the room.

You look away from Toji, sharply turning your head to your friends, feeling a myriad of emotions—happy, proud, confusion, bafflement—bubbling in your chest as your jaw drops in surprise.

What.

The ballroom explodes in a cacophony of noises.

Shoko jumps at you and you almost topple if not for Toji’s strong arms easily steadying you up. You are about to swoon and lose yourself at the feeling of being in Toji’s embrace again, but Shoko quickly grabs your hand and Utahime’s, dragging you two to where Satoru and Suguru are. You hear Toji’s surprised laughter but it is drowned out by the throng of other voices.

Moving to where Satoru and Suguru stand turns out to be quite futile as they are both surrounded with their family members, but Shoko is undeterred, skillfully sidestepping zoris and getas. Next thing you know, the three of you are standing in front of your friends.

Suguru sees you three first, the pretty boy letting go of Satoru’s hand to hug you all at the same time. Satoru follows easily (because wherever Suguru goes, Satoru follows), joining the pile and squishing you and Utahime uncomfortably together. Shoko is pressed somewhere between her girlfriend and Suguru, but she is just quiet again and smiling, content.

When you all separate, Satoru turns his back to the rest of the people vying for his attention and you watch as they patter off at his clear dismissal. You will never get used to the power that Satoru has over these people.

He turns to you. “So, where's the date?” He asks and you groan when Suguru chokes on his flute, eyeing you as if you dropped a bigger announcement than their engagement.

“There,” you answer, gesturing at where Toji is standing, startling when your eyes meet his. You feel giddy at the realization that Toji’s been looking at you all along. “There he is.”

You wave at him and Toji raises his flute and tips it your way. You giggle, incredibly happy at having his full attention.

Someone clears their throat and you look back at your friends only to see them staring at you with a knowing look. “What?” You ask, feeling shy and exposed.

“Nothing,” Suguru says, and you know it is not nothing. You squint at him, but he busies himself with his champagne, not offering anything anymore. Satoru laughs, coming to stand close to you.

“Looks like you can actually cuff the date,” he whispers, wiggling his pale eyebrows at you and his smile looking especially sly. You huff, amused.

“Maybe,” you mumble, thinking back to the flowers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“May I have this dance?” Toji asks, cutting off whatever Shoko was telling you. Shoko waves before stalking away. You don’t even notice as Toji leads you to the dance floor.

You hear cheering from behind you and you groan as you and Toji glance at Suguru and Satoru, the latter half-draped across his fiance’s lap. Toji chuckles, shaking his head in amusement, eyes bright as they find yours again.

“Your friends always this supportive?” He asks. He clasps a hand on your back and the other tangling with your fingers, slowly swaying to the sound of some American song. Toji mouths the lyrics and you wonder what they mean.

(“Would it be a sin? If I can’t help falling in love with you?”)

Maybe you’ve had too much to drink or maybe it’s the buzzing love in the ballroom—Suguru taking Satoru’s hand and kissing the ring that he proposed to Satoru with; Utahime peppering kisses on Shoko’s cheeks, nose, forehead—but whatever it is, it sparked the familiar coiling in your stomach, this one stronger and overpowering the anxiety hiding in your veins.

“Yeah,” you say, “Especially after finding out I’m trying to date my plus one for real.”

Toji pauses for a moment, stumbling on his feet, before dancing again. Your heart is thudding in your chest, a staccato of dread and desire, of fear and love.

He hums. “The dashing man who you forgot was your date?” He asks, playful but careful at the same time.

“That one,” you reply, joining whatever it is he is playing. “The finest man.”

Toji breathes in sharply. “Heard he’s got a son. You ain’t put off by that?”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “His son’s the best. Besides, he’s a good dad—just another reason to love him all the more.” You meet his eyes as you say this, hoping to convey the depth of your love.

You wonder if you’re fucking up your friendship right at this moment. If Toji would erect his walls again, pushing you out of his life completely. If he does, you know you would not be able to take it, but it seems like the love nestled in your heart is finally overflowing, unable to hide anymore from Toji.

Toji’s eyes shine with something like finality and you feel your breath get stuck in your lungs; the strength that held you upright evaporates, leaving you boneless and cold in Toji’s arms.

“I’m sor—”

Your apology is devoured by Toji’s lips. You squeak, jumping in surprise, wide eyes seeing nothing but a blur of black. But Toji just pushes his lips closer to yours, angling his head better and tipping into the kiss gentler. Finally, feeling like your heart is on your tongue, you close your eyes and bask in the warmth of Toji’s, well, everything.

You feel everything, deaf and aware of your surroundings at the same time—Satoru is cheering again, this time louder, and another American song is playing, filling up the space with words you do not understand. But it all melts into a symphony when Toji’s arms pull you close to him, embracing you so carefully like you are everything that is tender in his life.

You feel your eyes sting, tears tickling your lashes at the emotions rolling off of you in waves. Toji pulls back, hovering just a breath away from you, before kissing you once again.

Toji kisses you like you are the perfect singularity in his life—the one thing that makes sense. And you kiss him just as intensely, hoping to convey that you’ve loved Toji for two years now and that you will love him for more.

When you pull away to catch your breath, greedily gasping for air, Toji still doesn’t let go of you, his forest eyes lost in yours. You look back at him, just as feverish.

“I love you.”

You both blink in surprise before laughing, equally enamoured and overjoyed with the way you two said your confessions at the same time.

The chuckles dwindle, leaving only the weight of mutual hearts grasping for each other like ivy.

“I love you,” you say again. “In love with you. So so so in love.” You peck his lips once, twice, three times.

Toji smiles, a bit wobbly like he cannot believe you love him so ardently. Then, he says just as earnestly, “I love you too.”

He dances with you again, you two getting lost in your own, shared world as everything fades away.

(“You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you.”)

462 notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

— honey lemon

the first time oikawa tooru tells you he loves you is aged six. chubby cheeks are stretched out with contagious happiness as he presents you his confession with a gift, a lemon lollipop which he had snuck from under his mother’s nose as she spoke to your own.

you mirror his smile, sugar on your tongue and lips coated with artificial yellow as you return his words with no idea of what they truly meant. but, you think as oikawa beams at you, grinning impossibly wide, that maybe the warmth that filled your belly had something to do with love.

Keep reading

1K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

No one from MSBY has ever been to Kiyoomi's apartment.

There are running jokes that have endured since the early days he joined the team that he lives in some sort of high-tech, military grade, climate-controlled, hypoallergenic space--with expensive ventilation and a UV sterilized airlock.

But no one really knows, in spite of the jokes they make.

"Knock!"

"I'm not knocking--you knock."

"Fine ya babies, I'll do it."

Atsumu steps past Hinata and Bokuto as they squabble and raps his knuckles on the--surprisingly normal, and decidedly low-tech--apartment door.

Atsumu had been asked by Meian to drop some paperwork off at Sakusa's apartment that he'd forgotten to give him at practice that day. Kiyoomi didn't tend to linger once practice was over, and by the time the captain had come looking for him, he was already gone.

Bokuto and Hinata had, of course, taken it upon themselves to accompany him to the little apartment on the edge of town.

Out of the goodness of their hearts, they insisted.

A moment passes after Atsumu knocks, and the three athletes hold a collective breath.

The door swings open.

"Oh, hello?"

Three pairs of eyes blink in time, processing slowly what they're looking at.

"Can I help you?" you ask, stifling a laugh at the alarmingly similar looks of surprise on the three strangers' faces.

Atsumu collects himself first, fumbling with the papers in his hands as he trips over his words. "Hi Miss! I'm so sorry I think we must have the wrong address, we were lookin' fer-"

Your eyes light up.

"Kiyo!"

"Yeah, yeah, lookin' fer Kiyo-san but--eh?" Atsumu nods but then stutters to a sudden halt as he realizes what you've (and he's) just said.

You look back over your shoulder into the apartment behind you. "Kiyo! You have visitors!"

You turn back to the three men, waving them in as you hold open the door. "Please come in!"

Kiyoomi's apartment is not even close to what the boys at MSBY would have guessed.

It's tidy, but not spotless--surfaces clean and dusted but with unopened mail on the table in the genkan; a coat folded neatly over the back of a chair at the kitchen counter; a half-full cup of cold coffee in the shiny stainless steel sink, waiting to be washed.

It's small, but not cramped--a mismatched assortment of furniture that lends itself to the appearance that two homes have recently come together, like a sofa and a coffee table that don't quite match; shelves with books on anatomy and conditioning alongside the brightly coloured spines of romance novels; a tall figure standing over a houseplant that's just a bit too big for the corner it's been pushed into, a sunny yellow watering can poised in his hand as he looks curiously at the three guests who stand, shocked and sheepish, in the doorway.

There's music playing from a speaker in the corner, and something cooking in the kitchen that smells divine.

And there are pictures.

Everywhere.

On the walls in frames, dotted along the shelves and tables, stuck to the fridge with magnets. Some of them are of Kiyoomi--old and young, from missing teeth to graduating--some are of you, and some are of the two of you, smiling wide, entwined together. Most of the photos feature people that the boys don't recognize--friends and family they have not yet had the chance to meet, holidays they were not present for--while some of the photographs are of themselves, dressed in gold and black, celebrating, their smiles stretching from ear to ear immortalized in triumph.

No, Sakusa Kiyoomi's apartment is not what anyone would have thought.

And suddenly it makes a bit more sense why he's always rushing home after practice.

Because it's not his apartment at all, but rather yours together.

5K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

“I just saw the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life.”

Iwaizumi's face scrunches in confusion and indignation on the other side of the call.

"Princess, with all due respect, what the fuck are you talking about?" He asks, looking around subtly to see if people around were hearing his half-harsh words.

"Not only he's gorgeous, but he's super pretty too. Ugh, his eyes! I could stare at them forever."

"Y/n, I swear to God, if you're talking about an anime character again..."

"No, Haji, he's a real man, he's like three meters away from me right now- Oh God, he just flexed his jaw, I think I might die from his hotness."

Hajime’s blood was boiling inside. Why the hell would you call your boyfriend to talk about some other guy’s looks?! Was he not attractive enough? Was he lacking something?

“Sheesh, this man has muscles, I mean, his arm? Maybe I should take a picture of his biceps.”

“Y/n, can you sto-”

“He’s wearing a tight polo shirt and sweats, maybe he just got out of the gym?”

Wait a minute.

“What did you say about his eyes?”

“Oh, his eyes.” You sigh dreamily. “So green and so pretty. Oh, he’s smiling now. Haji, he has the most beautiful smile ever.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep. He could be a model if he wanted to. Do you think I should get his number? Though I doubt he’s single, it might be worth a try.”

“What about me?”

“Sorry, Haji, but this man is so freaking pretty, I just can’t help it.”

“Do whatever you want, Y/n. I wish you and the pretty boy all the happiness in the world.”

“Thank you, Hajime. Farewell.”

Iwaizumi ends the call and slips his phone in his pocket. After a few seconds he feels someone tapping his shoulder.

“Can I help you?”

“Sorry, I was standing there and I just could help but notice how handsome you are.” You smile smugly at him.

“Oh, thank you, you don’t look that bad either.”

You pout at his words and he has to hold himself back not to kiss the tiny space between your furrowed eyebrows. You slap his chest but he doesn’t budge, instead a light chuckle escapes his lips.

“You’re no fun, Haji.”

Your boyfriend wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, giving you a kiss on your forehead while you make yourself comfortable against his chest.

“You need to stop these pranks, I never fall.”

“You almost fell, I could hear your anger in your voice.” He looks to the side, annoyed.

“You called me and started talking about some other guy of course I would be angry.”

“No need to worry, Haji, like I said, you’re the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life.” Your arms lock around his neck to bring him down, you pamper his lips with quick pecks, causing him to chuckle. “My Pretty Boy.”

likes and reblogs are more than appreciated!<3

8K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

absolute pitch # u. wakatoshi | 2k words

↳ ushijima has trouble keeping you in his arms through the night; he comes up with an oddly ingenious solution.

for the simple pleasures collab hosted by @augustinewrites <3

Ushijima runs hot. He’d never realised this until two years ago when you pointed it out to him on your third date.

“You’re really hot.” were your exact words, and he almost tripped over nothing.

“Sorry?”

You half-hiccuped, half-giggled at his reaction, and the sound chimed in his ears. You were cute when you were tipsy, especially when you started whining a few glasses in because he couldn’t drink with you, a circumstance attributed to his dietician.

(By the end of the night though, he’d had a sip or two. It was impossible to deny you.)

“I mean, you’re really warm,” you clarified because he was definitely gawking. “Like a human heater.”

Since then, Ushijima became almost hyper-aware of how much heat he emanated. Not that it concerned him. It meant packing less for games in colder locations, no bathroom breaks during long movies, less time spent making his bed in the morning because he didn’t need a blanket.

If anything, him running hot was a good thing. At least, Ushijima thought it was until he stayed the night with you for the very first time.

Because though he’d fallen asleep with your head tucked towards his chest and your hand over his heart, he’d awoken the next morning on the other side of the bed, sweating like he’d just played an entire set.

That was how Ushijima learned the one downside of running hot: his body couldn’t physically withstand anything over an hour’s worth of cuddling. Which was terrible because, well, he really liked doing it with you.

When you moved in together, though he willed himself to keep you in his embrace before going to bed every night, the same tragedy always befell him come morning. Once, he even woke up with half his body hanging off the mattress.

“It’s okay, baby. Honestly,” you said when he brought it up a week after settling into the new place. The smell of stale, unlived in air still clung to the walls.

You looked unbothered. Maybe… “Do you prefer it that we don’t—”

“No! No, of course not!” Ushijima was worried you’d get whiplash from how feverishly you shook your head. “I like cuddling with you at night, Toshi. But I know you get antsy when you’re warm. It’s probably just a subconscious response that you roll away. To avoid body heat, you know?”

You’d stared at him with so much reassurance, compassion, adoration; his heart ached. Ushijima wanted to lift you onto the nearest surface and kiss you breathless in hopes you’d understand how much you meant to him. He would’ve, but you were wearing shorts, and he remembered how you’d jolted from the cold after he set you down on the kitchen counter while kissing you that one time.

Sometimes, and maybe it’s mean of him, Ushijima puts off immediately reuniting with you after a game out of town just to watch you from afar, in awe that no matter who looked at you, he was the person you were waiting for; he was the only person who could call you his.

Which was what made his predicament even more frustrating.

He’s always taken pride in the fact that he’s made it so far in his career. He enjoys the vigour of his lifestyle; the intense training, the travelling, the purpose. It keeps him busy, keeps his life in check. He’s never once regretted devoting his all into volleyball.

But sometimes—when he hears you try to hide the fatigue brining your voice during the video calls while he’s away or on the days he has to carry you into bed because you’d fallen asleep waiting for him at the dining table—Ushijima can’t stifle the guilt that rouses in him. He spends so much time away from home, from you, that sometimes he forgets just how pleasantly cold your skin is compared to his, how tender your gaze becomes when it’s directed at him, how delicately your smile stretches the plush of your lips.

So he can hardly be blamed for wanting to spend what rare nights he has with you as close as humanly possible. Ushijima’s tried everything to try and force himself to remain by your side through the night—weighted blankets, melatonin pills, insisting you sleep on his arm to root him in place, sleeping shirtless to decrease his body temperature (you seemed disappointed when he stopped doing that last one)—but nothing worked.

But if there’s one thing Ushijima’s learned from volleyball it’s this: to adapt is to win. There’s never a guarantee what his opponent will do next, which is why he knows the best thing he can do when something unexpected comes his way is take it in stride and adapt.

Which is why, on off days like today, Ushijima wakes up thirty minutes earlier than he should.

Because he may be a world-class athlete, but he can’t train his body to reduce the amount of heat it exudes. All he can do is accept the fact that he isn’t built to spend an entire night with someone in his arms without overheating. So, he settles for this instead: waking up thirty minutes earlier so he can use that time to cuddle.

(Heat pricks his ears at the word. It sounds childish, but it’s exactly what he’s doing. He wishes there was another term for it.)

Thirty minutes, however, is barely a blip in the grand scheme of things. Ushijima wastes no time in draping his arm across your waist and nuzzling his face into the softness of your shirt, breathing you in. The first few times he did this, he dozed off. Which would’ve been fine—it’s an off day—if not for the fact that unconscious, his body will inevitably stray from yours.

So, when drowsiness begins seeping into his limbs, Ushijima reaches forward and, though he is no artist, sketches you with the feather-lightness of his fingertip. Every curve, dip, slope of your face he passes his thumb over to stow in his mind, to unearth on the days he spends away so the sight of you never dilutes.

Usually he does this as gently as he can so he doesn’t wake you, but today you’re wearing one of his wide-collared shirts, the ones that slip down your arm to reveal your skin mottled by sunlight filtering through the sheers.

So how is he meant to resist dragging his lips over your clavicle to the tip of your shoulder? How can he not linger there, let your skin cool his own, bringing him to an equilibrium?

He smooths his thumb over your lips, the flesh whispery like chiffon. He has half the mind to abandon his guilty conscience to kiss you awake. Ushijima doesn’t have to though, because before he knows it, your mouth is curving upward and your fingers are wrapping themselves around his wrist to keep his thumb pressing into your smile.

“G’morning, Toshi.”

Your voice is filmed with sleep, your eyelids barely open. He lets you curl his fingers into a fist and watches as you ghost your lips across the grooves of his knuckles. Ushijima wonders if he could ever love you more.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, if only to keep himself grounded in reality.

Your kisses travel to his wrist, to the single prominent vein which spindles upward to burgeon in his palm. When you hum an affirmative it sends vibrations along his pulse point.

Ushijima cups the back of your head and guides it to rest against his chest, his left arm lacing tighter around your waist. If his estimates are accurate, he has ten minutes left. He wishes he had longer.

“You’re so warm, darling,” you tell him, almost absentmindedly.

Are you uncomfortable? You must be. Winter has begun to winnow from summer’s sweltering winds; certainly that paired with Ushijima’s own startling heat would be borderline oppressive.

But when he shifts to pry himself away, you bunch the material of his shirt in your hands to stop him.

“Don’t go.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. “You feel nice.”

Ushijima should’ve known better. Of course, you’d find no contentions with his body heat. When have you ever? You revel in it, crave it even, because the heat is inherent to him, and you love him without conditions.

Because you’ve learned to adapt, too.

You and Ushijima dance to different tunes. Even undying love cannot alter the simple truth that each of your notes differ on a near structural level—coloured by your past experiences, your upbringing, your contrasting dispositions—because at the end of the day, you and him are different people. There is no harmony when you and Ushijima’s songs collide, only dissonance, but over the years, as you’ve designated crevices in yourselves specially curated for the other, you’ve each adapted your songs to fit the best they can.

It’s been three years since Ushijima has known you, two since you told him how hot he ran, and in that time, both of you have attained absolute pitch; learned to play the other’s tune merely by sound; borrowed and incorporated each other’s notes into your own song. So while there is no true harmony in the orchestra of your relationship, sometimes, if he strains his ears, Ushijima can hear your melody and his weaving to create something not necessarily right, but beautiful regardless. Because those few seconds of not-quite harmony are born from effort, from wanting to conduct something dulcet together in spite of the way Ushijima’s tempo may run faster than yours at times and your pitch a little higher than his in others.

Your not-quite harmony is a culmination of the little things you do for each other, to adapt for one another, like drying his hair while he rewatches games, dabbing your makeup away when you’re too exhausted to, sticking peppy messages scratched in ballpoint on the fridge for him, or, even, waking up thirty minutes earlier just so he can bask in your love if only for a second longer.

His alarm beeps once, twice, thrice, before Ushijima silences it.

“We should get up now,” he rasps against your forehead because that’s what the sound means.

Your breath blankets his cheek, his thumb caresses your hip.

“I know. I’ll go wash my face,” you say but you don’t move.

“Okay,” he says but his hold of you doesn’t loosen.

And maybe the two of you stay that way longer than you should. Maybe the half-hour stretches to one instead as you catch him up on what he’d missed while he was away—the Alphonso mangoes on sale at the grocery store, how you’d found the left side of your favourite pair of woolly socks behind the washing machine, the orange peel and honeysuckle scented hand lotion you’d been eyeing ceasing production—and he memorises the softness of your skin beneath his palm.

You tell him about all the trivial happenings, though Ushjima doesn’t like calling them that because the way you recount them makes him feel as if he were there living through it with you—juggling the weight of ripe fruit between his hands, shining his phone’s flashlight behind the washing machine for a glimpse of kitten-patterned wool, hearing the clicks of your mouse as you reload and reload the fragrance store’s website. And suddenly, he can’t wait to officially start the day because there are dozens of mundane things—simple pleasures—he won’t need to vicariously experience a week too late.

Because he gets to do them, with you, today.

But Ushijima thinks just a second longer in bed surely won’t hurt because he can’t imagine getting up any time soon. Not when he has you like this, not when he’s teeming with the knowledge that you are the only person in the world who knows his song by heart as he does yours, that in this moment, he can hear the not-quite harmony the two of you have built for yourselves from the simple pleasures, from all and nothing but the simple pleasures.

5K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Note

Hii how about an Ushijima x GN Reader where they're married and then got into a fight which stretches into days of the reader ignoring Ushiwaka and he'll get reminded of what happened with his parents and all that, angst to fluff btw. (You could also changed anything you want in the plot, just please make it an angst to fluff, I can't handle angst endings ;-;) that's all thamk you vmuch!

word count: 3,613

pairing: ushijima wakatōshi x gn!reader (as usual, pls let me know if you find something gendered!)

warnings: sad angsty vibes at the beginning, a lot of worry but it's all fluffy at the end!

a/n: bare with me yall, this might not be that great lol i feel like im losing my touch with writing so im sorry if it shows. thanks so much @mistomu for requesting this though! (i also can't handle angsty endings so i hope this was good enough!!!) this idea is v based on my own feelings so i hope it reads nicely! EDIT: the original post says “she seemed...empty” when Ushi talks to Tendō, which is totally my bad. Thank you to the anon who let me know! I’ve corrected it now :)

haikyuu masterlist

This fight was not like other fights you had had with Ushijima. You loved your husband and all of his quirks, and yet, when you showed up at home with a duffle bag packed, asking your mom to just stay over for a few days, you had cried for hours, wondering if Ushijima was slowly falling out of love with you. Was he really just too busy? Or was Ushijima Wakatōshi falling out of love with you?

Tournament season was always really difficult for the two of you - you never got to see him as much, but with how busy your own work was getting, the two of you thought maybe it would be okay this time around. Especially after you two had gotten married and moved in together - maybe things would be okay.

As you leaned back in your seat, staring at the wedding ring on your finger, you wondered if it was ever going to be okay again. Or maybe this was just the new normal. You had told your mom you'd just be going out for some fresh air, and yet you didn't feel like you were in a good state to be driving. So here you were, in some random parking lot, staring out the window like all the energy had been drained from your body as you replayed that night over and over again in your head.

You could remember almost every word that was said in that first argument. It hadn't helped that Ushijima was exhausted from training - all he had wanted to do was come home, and flop onto the bed for some much needed sleep. But that's what he wanted to do every night and you were struggling at work and needed any level of comfort. You just wanted him to hug you, to hold you and tell you things were going to be okay.

But when you had tried to tell him you needed him, Ushijima had held up his hand tiredly, barely even looking at you as he commented, "Not tonight, Y/N, I'm tired."

His legs had dragged themselves into your shared room, a dismissive air left behind him. Your brow furrowed as it sank in - why did everyone dismiss you so easily? You told your boss you had needed more time to get the project done, and even though he told you you could take your time, he ended up throwing you under the bus to upper management. Your coworkers all seemed to be taking their sweet time on their own portions, no one was helping, and you wanted to pull your hair out in clumps.

You felt like time was slipping past you too quickly, like your whole days were consumed by work, and yet all you wanted was to be comforted by your partner. A hug that told you that you were doing just enough.

But instead what you got was a husband who clearly wanted sleep. And maybe you should've given it to him. But why did his needs always seem to trump yours? He needed a certain diet so you went out to buy all of his new ingredients, helped make new dishes for him to try. He needed to get up in the mornings and always seemed to do so so loudly, so you had to give up on precious moments of sleep. He had a game this year on your anniversary, so you planned a different date and he just came along for the ride. Now he was too tired, and you just had to sit here and pretend like everything was fine.

Maybe I should have just sat there, maybe I should have pretended things were fine, you thought to yourself as you slunk further into your seat. Maybe we could've talked about it the morning after, maybe I could've just crawled into bed with him and cuddled him then. Maybe then we wouldn't be arguing.

Your phone rang for the 5th time since you had sat yourself here in this parking lot. You knew it was Ushijima, calling again to make sure you were okay, to ask where you were, to nag about your whereabouts. But no, you decided in your petty attitude, this time he could wait for you.

Ushijima and you had been far from the world's most perfect couple. You had known the two of you had vast differences in the ways you loved and the ways you communicated. And yet, there was something so attractive about the way he existed when you first met him. He was honest, determined, and knew exactly what he wanted from life. Sure, he wasn't the most informed when it came to how to talk to parnters or how to communicate his thoughts regarding relationships, but the two of you used to laugh about it, you used to treat every little disagreement as something that you could both work on. So when did it start becoming things that only you were working on? He used to at least spend some time with you - or try to - when things got busy... but this season felt different.

You were not a perfect partner, and you knew that. You kept things buried inside of you, you let things boil up, you didn't communicate, as Ushijima loved to point out to you, but was it so bad to want him to understand that sometimes you wanted him to initiate things? He knew you liked to be hugged some days when it was hard at work, so why had he never come to you and hugged you without you asking? Why hadn't he ever thought about doing anything other than coming home and sleeping?

Your mom's words rang through your mind yet again as you stared off into the clouds - could you be losing the man you once considered your soulmate?

Ushijima's heart fell once more as he heard the beginning of your voicemail once again. Every time he would wait for that little beep letting him know he could leave a voicemail if he wanted, and every time he would hang up right before he had to say anything. Because what was he supposed to say?

He stared at the empty couch in front of him as he stood in the living room, as if you would magically pop out of the cushions to let him know this was all just a trick. A prank. A joke.

That's what this had to be right? It was just a joke right?

Ushijima gripped his phone a bit tighter as he scolded himself internally for thinking that. Sure, maybe after the first night, it could've been a prank. But this was the 3rd night in a row that you had been gone when he came home. He had glanced at your closet, noting that some clothes had disappeared, some of your shoes too.

A pain tugged at his heart as he remembered the yelling match the two of you had gotten yourselves into - he strained his memory, trying to remember just what the climax of it had been. He hadn't hugged you... hadn't consoled you, even when you were crying while the two of you were arguing, this time he hadn't reached out to you to hold your hand, wipe away your tears.

This time he had been so tired from training, he just stood there, staring at you with that blank face he always reverted to. You told him he was always too busy to think of you, and he had told you he was trying to be the best. Because the best is what makes him worthy, the best is what keeps money coming in. He was doing this for himself, sure, but he was doing it for you too - he wanted you to be happy in your future. And yet, you seemed so unhappy with him now.

Ushijima took his phone back out, fingers typing out another text to send your way:

Please Y/N, please just let me know you're okay. We can talk this out. Please come home.

Ushijima stared at the text as it joined the many others he had sent you. Three days and he hadn't heard so much of a peep from you. He had Tendō check in on you sometime yesterday, just to make sure you were alive and not murdered somewhere. You had told Tendō you were alive, but refused to say anything more than that.

"Must be some big argument, huh?" Tendō had hummed when he called Ushijima to update him. "They seemed... empty." And that had made Ushijima feel even worse.

He waited a few minutes, watching eagerly as if waiting for you to respond but no response ever came. Why wouldn't you just talk to him? Why did you always have to hide everything inside? How was he supposed to make things better if you didn't say anything? How was he supposed to know you were upset with just your tone of voice?

The volleyball player winced a bit as he thought back to how hurt you had sounded when you first begged him to just hold you. Why hadn't he just reached out and hugged you? Had he been so exhausted he couldn't just hear about your day?

As if on cue, Ushijima felt another pang in his chest as he thought back to how similar the argument you two had sounded to the ones his parents used to have. Yelling and crying, both of them always sounding angry and hurt.

He had sworn off relationships at first, reminding himself that volleyball was all that really mattered. He wanted to be the best, wanted to reach the pinnacle of volleyball and he didn't need a relationship to get there. He didn't want to get hurt - he had watched his parents both cry quietly in different rooms, watched as one parent would always ignore the other and disappear, until one day his dad was packing his bags and leaving.

Is that what you had done? Ushijima's eyes whirled around the apartment, looking for any sign that you would be coming back. Your clothes weren't all gone so you had to come back right? Your favourite foods were still in the pantry, the accessories you had received from friends were still on the bedside table so... you had to come back right?

Volleyball had been all that mattered to him... until he met you. Ushijima met you and suddenly it didn't matter if he could get hurt - he wanted to be with you. Every moment of free time he had, he wanted to be with you. When did that stop? Ushijima stretched his mind, trying to think of why he hadn't hugged you, why didn't he just console you, comfort you, after what was obviously a long day for you too? He had promised before that he would get better at reading your body languages, keep you in mind even during his busy days... hell he even promised you that he would actually start planning dates together... and yet the last time the two of you had actually done something together was maybe 4 months ago.

Ushijima bit his inner cheek, staring at his phone again - letting you go wasn't an option. If you were going to leave, he wouldn't let you go without showing you he wanted you there. If you wanted to leave, he would make damn sure it wasn't because you thought he didn't want you anymore.

Your phone rang again, but this time, when the vibrations stopped, you received a notification that a voicemail had been left. After all this time, you had wondered why he never just said something after the call. You finally picked up your phone, listening to the voice message he left you:

"Y/N?... I'm not... not good at these things. But I know that's the problem isn't it? I've promised you so many times before that I'd get better at this stuff... and instead of hearing how hurt you were, all I could think about was how tired I was. I'm sorry, Y/N... I'm sorry for all of it. But please, please don't just get up and leave. None of this matters if you aren't around for me to share it with - volleyball, the tournaments, the sponsors, none of it would be here without you always supporting me so please, please just pick up. Or just come home. You don't have to stay if you don't want to... but please come back just to talk... I don't... I don't want what happened to my parents to happen to us. I won't let our differences separate us because everything that you are is everything I love. I fucked up - I can't promise I'll be perfect but if you're willing to just give me one more shot, and I know you've given me countless times to fix my shit, but if you give me one more chance, I promise I'll work harder. I'll do better."

You could hear the hurt in his voice and it took all your willpower not to crumble and hang up right there, call him back and cry. You hated hearing that sound in his voice - knowing he was probably tearing up, knowing he was probably sulking around the apartment. But... why should you run to him when he still hasn't solved anything? What was he saying now that was any different than what he usually said?

"I called my trainer... he agrees that I should be able to have a few rest days. So for the foreseeable future, I'll be taking Thursdays off, or at least I'll be coming home earlier every day if I need to be there for Thursdays. I know one day isn't a lot, and I know it's not much until I can actually act on it, but if you're okay with it, I'd like to spend some of those days off with you... I want to be someone you want to be with for the rest of your life, Y/N... I know I haven't been that in a long time. But if you let me, I want to make up for everything I've messed up on... There's food here waiting for you... I ordered your favourite. I don't even know if you've eaten yet or if you want to see me... but it's here for you if you want it. I'm sorry... and I love you, Y/N, I know I don't always act like it, but I do."

You didn't realize until the message ended that you were crying. Tears were streaming down your face as you tried to weigh the options laid out in front of you. Maybe it was just you being hopeful, but you could've sworn that the man you had fallen in love with, there was just a glimmer of him in that message.

You listened to it over and over again, letting yourself cry and sob into tissues you had stashed away in your car. Why couldn't he have said all of this before? Why couldn't you have just let him sleep? Why did everything have to blow up so fast?

Maybe it was time to try and fix things, you decided after you turned off your phone. You swallowed hard as you turned your car on, desperately wanting for all these awful feelings to go away. If Ushijima was genuine in person, maybe... just maybe the two of you could work things through.

Ushijima had jumped at the sound of someone opening the front door, eyes glistening with tears he had refused to let fall as you came in. The two of you shared a glance, your face showing the awkwardness you felt as you entered the once tense environment.

"Hi," was all you said, your eyes flickering over your favourite food spread out over the dining table.

"Go ahead," Ushijima nodded quickly, rushing to your side to get you a plate and put your favourites on it. He picked the biggest pieces of each dish, setting the plate down at your usual spot and gesturing to you to feel free to dig in.

But you just stared at him, the hurt in your eyes not disappearing even though Ushijima wished it would. You shifted on your feet, wishing you could pretend like nothing had happened, that there wasn't this uncomfortable feeling sitting in your stomach, that Ushijima was just doing a nice thing for you because he was a good husband and not because he was trying to apologize.

"Ushi-" you started uncomfortably, playing with your fingers in front of you.

"No, me first," he interrupted quickly, swallowing hard. Your eyes gazed over him, noting that the normally put together volleyball player suddenly seemed so small, his hair unkept like he had been running his hands through it over and over again, still wearing the shirt he had probably woken up in. "I sorely messed up, Y/N... I'm sorry for getting upset with you when you were just asking for comfort. You've told me countless times before that you appreciate talking when I come home, a hug... some time alone... and I always seem to forget that. But I promise if you come back home, I'll be better. I was thinking we could get tickets to that movie you wanted to see, or... maybe take a trip somewhere," he continued desperately. Ushijima's hand shot out and grabbed yours gently, clasping his own hands around yours. "I'm sorry, Y/N... I'm so sorry. But please... I don't want to go about my life without you around. I don't want to be one of those kids of divorce that are never happy with their own marriages so I promise... I promise I'll work on it."

You hesitated, watching the desperation in his eyes. Funny how Ushijima always seemed to talk more when you were upset, you thought to yourself, chewing on your inner cheek. "Let me eat something and then you can continue apologizing," you teased gently, attempting to lift some of the tension.

Ushijima's eyes lightened slightly as he nodded quickly and pulled out your chair for you. You smiled to yourself, wondering if maybe there was hope for you two after all.

"I'm serious about Thursdays," he told you as you started to eat. The moment the food had touched your lips, you realized just how hungry you were, stuffing your face quickly with the dishes. "We could have a standing date... watch movies or maybe go out to dinner. Try to cook something together maybe?"

You let out a choked laugh, shaking your head, "Ushi, last time we tried to cook together, we almost set the apartment on fire."

"I'll just hand you the stuff you need, I won't touch, promise," Ushijima insisted, but you could see the little smile at the corner of his lips.

You sighed after you after a few bites, looking up at him as if calculating just how ready you were to fix things, "I need to know that we're both giving and compromising equally... I feel like I'm always doing what you need me to do..."

Ushijima nodded, mulling over this for a moment, "You have done a lot for me, and I'm very grateful for it. But you're right, I need to do more."

You gave a small smile, playing with your food for a moment, "I'm sorry I didn't just tell you what was wrong... I know I blew up. In my head, I had been thinking about everything for so long, but I know that to you, it wouldn't make sense why I got angry so fast. I know a hug really isn't that big of a deal but-"

Ushijima shook his head, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingers, "If it matters to you, it's a big deal. You deserve to be comforted, to find solace in our relationship...If you'll give me a warning when you're upset, I'll do my best to hug your emotions away." You nodded and Ushijima seemed to hesitate for a moment, "Can I hug you now?" He asked quietly and you let out a little laugh because Ushijima rarely asked if he could hug you, normally you would just find yourself wrapped in a bear hug.

You nodded and Ushijima wasted no time, pulling you away from your seat and tugging you into a tight hug - it had been a long 3 days after all. He pulled away for a moment, cupping your face in his hands as he just looked at you, silently promising to himself that he would do everything in his power to never be without you again.

Maybe some couples just weren't meant to be together, maybe it had been for the best that his parents had split up. But you and him? You two were a couple destined to be together, it was fate, and there was no way he would be letting any of his dumb mistakes every mess that up again.

You silently thanked any and all of the gods that had led you to this man - arguments or not, you did love him and it was nice to be reminded that he loved you too. And Ushijima worked on it - continuing to remind you over and over again as the evening passed, even as the week ahead went by. So sure, you guys weren't a perfect couple - but sometimes, when Ushijima just held you, pressed that kiss to your lips, made your heart skip beats... sometimes it felt like you guys were as close to perfection as mere mortals could get.

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!)

@sgue0s @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana @tsukkimoonbyeol @moonlightaangel @crystal-lilac @random-734 @sophiemess @bbyhaji @pansexualproblemchild @mystic-poteto @kaleidoscopekai @cuddlysoftbear @cheeseriz @ur-local-reality-shifter @kawaii-angelanne @ushijimacentral @elkawholeek @ur-local-anti-hero @tirzamisu

717 notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

baby streamer

ft. dad!kenma kozume

warning(s): none

notes: kenma’s kid takes over his stream when he goes afk

pt. 2

“Give me one sec. I’ll be back, I’m just getting something to eat,” Kenma pushed himself out of his chair a waved to his chat.

kyanmaaastan nooo don’t gooo

fairy62738 take your time!!

The letter ‘f’ rolled in the chat as Kenma disappeared. Not even thirty seconds later, a small human popped into the room. The chat was going crazy as they approached the gaming chair.

Kuroosterhead STOP ITS BABY KODZU

yuriyuri.123 IM GOING TO SCREAAMMM

_hitsuki_27 come to chat don’t be shy

The four year old plopped into Kenma’s gaming chair. She grinned and waved. Her short, brown hair swished as she tilted her head.

“Hi, Daddy’s chat!” Her small voice greeted.

Chaos. The chat was furiously rolling as those watching swooned and laughed.

The little girl’s face scrunched up, “Call of Duty! Daddy says he never plays that!”

The little girl grabbed the game controller and exited the game that Kenma had been playing. The screen of Kenma’s monitor was still streaming for the chat to see.

She scrolled through the number of games until she got to Minecraft. When she clicked onto it she smiled at the game monitor.

“I’m going to show you the world that Daddy and I have been making!”

oronoyaora stop this is soo cute 😭😭😭

hasanabi she’s gonna show us her socialist empire

The screen loaded and her character spawned. She put herself in flying mode and moved away to give a tour to the chat.

“This is my house,” she showed a purple, castle like structure, before turning.

A significantly small, cobblestone house came into view, “And this is Daddy’s house! I made his house and he made mine!”

The chat rolled with laughing emojis and hearts. Kenma returned and noticed that his chat was going crazy. He saw that his game monitor screen was streaming Minecraft. He chuckled.

“What are you doing?”

Baby Kodzu turned her head and grinned, “Hi, Daddy! I was showing your chat our Minecraft world!”

“Well,” Kenma lifted Baby Kodzu before sitting down and placing her on his lap, “I guess we’re playing Minecraft now.”

“Did you know that Daddy’s scared of the Endermen and Skelly’s?”

Kenma pinched her cheek, “Don’t expose me like that.”

Kuroosterhead LOLOL

Gyanugyanu don’t be shy baby kodzu, tell us more

“ I don’t know what that means, Daddy,” Baby Kodzu shrugged.

Kenma shook his head with a smile, “Go grab another controller, so we can both play.”

4K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

akaashi x reader, 1.9k

today is his wedding day. akaashi has never felt happiness like this before.

a/n: repost because i'm finally back in the tags! hope u enjoy :')

Akaashi had been close to pacing a hole into the reception hall floor when Bokuto found him. His tux was already on, a boutonniere already clipped to his lapel, and the furrow between his eyebrows was ferocious.

“There you are,” he sighed, relieved and exasperated. Akaashi would smile if he wasn’t 100% sure that it would just make Bokuto hit him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Akaashi shrugged, pivoted to a stop. He was near the door to the altar, since it was almost time to go but he was trying to buy more time and he didn’t have the stomach to be around anyone else right now. He didn’t want to be at the front without you. “I’m… pacing, I guess.”

Bokuto pursed his lips. He had that look on his face that was reminiscent of their high school days, when he wasn’t sure if he had to be a team captain or a friend. Akaashi was grateful for the deliberation he took nonetheless. “Cold feet?”

Akaashi shook his head so fast iit nearly blurred his vision. The reaction inside him was almost violent, almost vehement. “No, no, it’s not that.” There wasn’t a world, a universe, or a reality where he wouldn’t want to marry the hell out of you. Everyone around him knew it. Bokuto knew it too, because he nodded like the answer was obvious, and crossed the distance between them in quick strides.

“What is it then? You wouldn’t go AWOL just before the ceremony for nothing.”

“It’s just,” Akaashi started, and then stopped. He raised a hand to gesture vaguely at his head, and then pointed it in the direction of the doors, where a faint hubbub came in even though they were closed shut. “Lots of people. It’s weird. It freaked me out a little to see so many people.”

Bokuto huffed a little, the sound good-natured. “Well, you both have a good number of friends between you. Family, too.”

“I know, I guess it’s just—” he looked to the ceiling, to his hands, to the walls around him. Akaashi had helped come up with the seating plan. He chose the centrepieces, the colours of the napkins. The little cards that rested on the plates were covered in your handwriting. “It’s overwhelming, I think. Everything used to be just, like, stuff in planners and 3D renders in our laptops. Now it’s actually happening.”

“I get that,” Bokuto nodded. They had ten minutes before the wedding started. “But it’s good, right? That it’s all actually happening. That you’re gonna get married, and that we’re all here to celebrate you.”

“It is,” Akaashi agreed. “I guess I just— it’s silly, really. I didn’t think about the amount of people that were gonna be here.”

“Akaashi, you helped come up with the guest list.”

“I know, I know! But it was like, all abstract you know? Like they were names on an Excel sheet. Honestly, I don’t think there were any concrete faces in my head besides like, the two of us, our families, and you. We were seriously considering just leaving the guest list at that.” He fiddled a little with the promise ring still on his finger. The band was plain silver, with a small blue sapphire in the middle; identical to the one on your finger, sitting underneath your engagement ring. You had given it to each other when you both graduated high school and wanted something solid. Something to say that despite the distance, the change of the seasons, that nothing would change. That you were his constant, and him yours.

“The blue reminds me of your eyes,” you’d said as you placed it on his finger. “It’s cliche as shit, but it means it’s ours. That you’ll always be with me, no matter what. And don’t lie, I know you’re a hopeless romantic anyway, right?”

Akaashi had only laughed. He’d been too happy to let the teasing get to him. He’d nodded, unrepentant, and kissed you hard after returning the favour and slipping the ring on your own finger.

“But in the end, we knew we wanted it to be something we could share,” Akaashi continued. “It’d make her so happy to see so many people celebrating us all at once. I wanted to give that to her.”

“And she wanted to give that to you too,” Bokuto pointed out. He gave Akaashi a look, something sly and conspiratorial in the arch of his smile. “She was whining to me last week over the phone that she was so close to just asking you to elope. But Keiji deserves something special, and who am I to stand in the way of that?”

Akaashi laughed, sudden and full-bodied and echoing. God, he thought, the fondness in his chest was heavy it could suffocate, so heavy that it was freeing. God, she’s ridiculous.

“God, she’s ridiculous,” he said, watched as Bokuto’s eyes turned knowing. He couldn’t blame him either— the words sounded too much like I love you.

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bokuto said, nodding his head as if the matter was final. “Now come on, we have like five minutes before you get hitched, and I gotta make sure she’s okay too.”

“Does she know I went missing?” Akaashi asked. The side doors suddenly opened, giving him a view of the altar, the scent of the flowers placed next to it drifting towards him.

“I think she knows you went off somewhere. She knows you better than you think,” Bokuto replied. “Thought she’d be nervous about it, honestly. But nah, she just shrugged. He needs some quiet, probably. Have I ever told you that you two are insufferable?”

Akaashi laughed. “Yes Bokuto-san. Many times.”

“Well, it’s worth repeating. You’re both insufferable and terrible and I’m begrudgingly very happy that you’ve found love.”

“Thanks. I think.”

“You’re welcome.

You both decided early on that you wanted a procession, but you didn’t want the ceremony to start with Akaashi already at the altar, while you walked down to meet him. It felt weird.

“Feels a little bit like I’m meeting you somewhere and then taking this step, when really this is something we’re both walking into. This is something we both chose, and something we should arrive at together, you know?” You had said when you were both working out the details with your organisers, and Akaashi had agreed.

Your sister had suggested then that you both just walk down the aisle, and you had taken one look at each other and decided she was a genius, so you went with it.

Akaashi walked first, trying not to blush too hard at the raucous cheering of his friends that rose above the more appropriate clapping. His dad was walking with him, and when they both got to the altar, he had to fight to keep his smile from trembling.

“I’m so happy for you, son.” his dad said, had been saying as they walked. Over and over like a spell. “You’re going to make each other the happiest you’ll ever be. You already do.”

“We already do,” Akaashi repeated, and then leaned his head back to sniff. He wasn’t going to crack first. You would never let him hear the end of it. “We really do.”

Your bridesmaids went next— some close friends, a few cousins, family. Your sister made up the rear, the last to walk down before you and your father. She flashed Akaashi a grin so wide that he couldn’t help but mirror it. Both of your families had been nothing short of giddy as he met them in line for the procession. Everyone kept shaking his shoulders, you guys are getting married! You’re finally getting married! and all he could do was smile in return and gently swat them off before his coat became wrinkled.

But it warmed him straight through, to see them be so happy for him. Happy for you. Happy for the both of you. Even without meeting their eyes, Akaashi knew they were all bursting with excitement. Especially Bokuto, who was practically vibrating. It added to the joy that was already humming inside of him like a livewire, all alive and crackling like a fireworks display that just kept going.

The music kicked up again, an arrangement of the Nutcracker pas de feux for cello and harp, and Akaashi breathed in, big and slow and deliberate, through his mouth. He bounced a little on his feet. His heart was a paper airplane let loose in his chest, banging against bone and sinew and muscle, and Akaashi could hear each impacting thud in his ear, a drumbeat so loud he wondered how no one else could hear it. He felt Bokuto’s hand on the small of his back, his father’s on his shoulder. He chewed on his lip, felt the grin threatening to take over his whole face coming in the twitch of his cheeks. He sucked in more air.

The cheers rang anew, and Akaashi looked towards the doors. He didn’t even know when he looked away. Your sister stepped into position right by the altar, catching eyes with Bokuto with twin grins on their faces, and—

Oh. Oh.

You came into view.

Akaashi felt every last bit of oxygen leave him.

There you were.

Akaashi was in love. Oh, man, he was in love. He’d been in love for a very long time.

You were clad in a beautiful gown, a simple bodice that hugged you in the right places and the skirt flowing down just right, with a small train trailing behind. You looked incandescent. You looked like all of his dreams coming true, as you walked down slowly holding your father’s arm. You were smiling like he was, wide and almost goofy and a little tear-stricken.

God, he thought, and he breathed, and he felt his heart go even faster. God.

The walk felt unreasonably long this time, but soon enough you were in front of him, and Akaashi didn’t want to look at anything else now that you were here. He didn’t think he even could, he was sure of it.

“Hi,” you said, breathless and so achingly gorgeous it made the next three thumps in Akaashi’s chest feel painful. “Keiji, hi.”

“Hi,” he said back, in love and stupid with it. “My love, hi.”

Your father handed you off to him, crushing Akaashi into a tight hug and shaking hands with his own dad before the two of them left to sit next to their wives. Akaashi barely looked away from you throughout it, and you could only look at him too.

God, he thought, kept thinking.

The officiant began, something about love and union and the beauty of today. Akaashi let the words wash over him like cherry blossom petals, eyes on you, only ever on you, the most beautiful thing he had ever had the fortune of seeing; you, who somehow loved him just as much as he loved you.

God, he thought. You squeezed his hand, sending a ripcurrent through him and leaving him all clean. A vessel for nothing but warmth and raw feeling.

I love her, he thought. I will love her forever.

Later, when you’d kissed, truly and profoundly joined under law and faith and whatever else, you would whisper, lips still on his:

“God,” you’d say and Akaashi would catch the word in his mouth like it would be enough to keep him alive. “God, I’m going to love you forever.”

And then, Akaashi would hold you tighter, kiss you harder. The applause would ring louder, but it wouldn’t touch him.

Here, it was quiet.

291 notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

absolute pitch # u. wakatoshi | 2k words

↳ ushijima has trouble keeping you in his arms through the night; he comes up with an oddly ingenious solution.

for the simple pleasures collab hosted by @augustinewrites <3

Ushijima runs hot. He’d never realised this until two years ago when you pointed it out to him on your third date.

“You’re really hot.” were your exact words, and he almost tripped over nothing.

“Sorry?”

(By the end of the night though, he’d had a sip or two. It was impossible to deny you.)

“I mean, you’re really warm,” you clarified because he was definitely gawking. “Like a human heater.”

If anything, him running hot was a good thing. At least, Ushijima thought it was until he stayed the night with you for the very first time.

“It’s okay, baby. Honestly,” you said when he brought it up a week after settling into the new place. The smell of stale, unlived in air still clung to the walls.

You looked unbothered. Maybe… “Do you prefer it that we don’t—”

Which was what made his predicament even more frustrating.

Which is why, on off days like today, Ushijima wakes up thirty minutes earlier than he should.

(Heat pricks his ears at the word. It sounds childish, but it’s exactly what he’s doing. He wishes there was another term for it.)

So how is he meant to resist dragging his lips over your clavicle to the tip of your shoulder? How can he not linger there, let your skin cool his own, bringing him to an equilibrium?

“G’morning, Toshi.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, if only to keep himself grounded in reality.

Your kisses travel to his wrist, to the single prominent vein which spindles upward to burgeon in his palm. When you hum an affirmative it sends vibrations along his pulse point.

“You’re so warm, darling,” you tell him, almost absentmindedly.

Are you uncomfortable? You must be. Winter has begun to winnow from summer’s sweltering winds; certainly that paired with Ushijima’s own startling heat would be borderline oppressive.

But when he shifts to pry himself away, you bunch the material of his shirt in your hands to stop him.

“Don’t go.” Your voice is muffled by cotton. “You feel nice.”

Because you’ve learned to adapt, too.

His alarm beeps once, twice, thrice, before Ushijima silences it.

“We should get up now,” he rasps against your forehead because that’s what the sound means.

Your breath blankets his cheek, his thumb caresses your hip.

“I know. I’ll go wash my face,” you say but you don’t move.

“Okay,” he says but his hold of you doesn’t loosen.

Because he gets to do them, with you, today.

5K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

Reading this drunk and crying bc I have to do my skincare by myself smh

“you know maybe if you cooperated a bit this would be a lot easier.”

a childish giggle leaves your lips as you poke at iwaizumi’s bicep, “you’re strong, you can do it,” you encourage, a slur to your words that only makes iwaizumi rolls his eyes. so he caves because lord knows he doesn’t trust you to walk by yourself up to your apartment, especially not in your incredibly drunken state.

you never really drank back in japan, nor partied. so when university started and you got invitations to parties, iwaizumi encouraged you to go, encouraged you to let loose because he would be there to keep an eye on you as he always did. you always thought it was sweet. although you did wish he would get drunk with you, you’re in a city you barely know, in a place where the language is different from your native tongue. so you followed his words, coughing as you down your first shots, dragging your sober boyfriend to dance with a grin on your face, one he could never say no to because you knew that when the rush ended he’d be there ready to pick you up.

“alright,” he huffs, unbuckling your seatbelt as he picks you up into his arms, his sturdy grip remaining gentle on your figure as he does his best to close and lock his car. another laugh leaves your lips when he takes hold of your legs, an arm wrapping around your back as he carries you up to your apartment. you laugh and smile like a five year old as he continues up to your apartment. you pepper kisses to his face in the elevator, and iwaizumi couldn’t hide the grin on his face even if he tried.

“you’re so pretty haj,” your voice is an octave higher than it normally is, head resting on his shoulder.

“can’t even remember my full name?” he quips, a blush forming on his cheeks.

“sure i can,” you pout as he opens the door to your apartment.

“okay then,” he sighs, meeting your gaze. “what is it?”

“hajime,” you tell him. “hajime my baby, my darling, my love, my life, the love of my life iwaizumi.”

Keep reading

3K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

I worry for you, for you not know the danger you see

Character: toji fushiguro | toji zenin

Authors note: this is my first time writing Toji but I’m a dilf chaser 101 and a sucker for gruff, scary dilfs who are sweet with their partner. Reader is pregnant with Megumi <3 Please let me know if you guys want a part 2 cuz Imma sucker for pregnant reader too. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: pregnancy and anxiety attack

Synopsis:

“I’m just scared.” you said, voice warbling making Toji coo.

“Scared a’what?” he leaned back a bit to try and get a look at your face to which you shook your head - as much as you could with his hand keeping you pressed to his chest - to you hide yourself deeper into his hold, your cries becoming louder.

He brought his hand from your lower back to wrap his arm around your shoulders, holding you tighter against him.

It was night time when Toji finally came home.

You had been up all day and for the past week cleaning and preparing things in the nursery while simultaneously worrying about the well being of your husband.

Toji was a dangerous man. You knew this, he could take care of himself, he’s demonstrated his strength in more ways than one - defending himself and protecting you when you would accompany him on missions, but that was before you got pregnant. Now you were confined to the house you and Toji shared - his protectiveness and worry he tried so hard to conceal became increasingly obvious when he demanded you stay at home until the baby arrived.

You were currently sitting on the couch in your pj’s, legs tucked under you, hand stroking your swollen stomach. “It’s okay, baby, daddy’ll be home soon.” you spoke to your stomach.

Keep reading

2K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

bloody water pours between my thighs

Character: toji fushiguro | toji zenin

Authors Note: Alright! heres the second part to Toji x pregnant Reader fanfic! I’m currently working on similar piece after this which will be hopefully be posted by next week, I hope you all enjoy! <3

Warnings: graphic depictions of childbirth, cussing, crying, pregnancy, pet names

Synopsis:

“Mnnhhmmm Toji” you cried, whining as you felt the pressure in your belly increase. Suddenly you panicked, the feeling was so immense you nearly collapsed; grasping for Toji as your breath caught in your throat. “Toji, T-Toji, Toji.”

He caught your arm, holding it up to maneuver you so you could see his face. “I’m right here, whatta need, kid?” He stroked the skin of your wrist, moving his hand from your back to rest on your wet cheek.

It wasn’t that Toji was necessarily afraid of being a father - more so, he feared whether or not you’d survive this. Losing you terrified Toji.

Your body knew what was happening before your mind fully registered that you were going into labor.

The first time it happened you were cleaning dishes; your stomach cramped unexpectedly as you scrubbed the baby blue sponge over the porcelain of the plate.

You placed your hand on the corner of the sink to steady yourself, hissing as you brought a hand to grip the underside of your swollen middle.

Toji was in the living room sharpening his sword, the Shink! of the blade helping to take your mind off the pain momentarily.

The pain subsided, disappearing as soon as it had arrived. You simply shrugged and continued cleaning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second time it happened you were sat in Toji’s lap, his hands running over the plumpness of your ass - which had grown due to the pregnancy. Calloused hands squeezed appreciatively at the roundness of it. His mouth pressed to yours in a sweet kiss, contradicting the aggressive pulls and squeezes of his hands.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” Toji said, smiling through the kiss. “Givin’ me a lil brat to run around” he placed a hand on your belly, caressing the skin as he moved the hem of your shirt up and over your skin.

You moaned at his praise, holding a hand to his cheek, you moved your head back down to catch him in another kiss.

Toji pulled away to crane his neck downward, slowly running the rough pads of his thumbs over your tummy; he traced the stretch marks that had painted themselves across your soft skin.

Blushing, you went to pull his hand away making him swat your palm before you could interrupt his fascination with your body.

“Stop it.” He muttered and leaned down to kiss the roundness of your belly, continuing down in a line of pecks, “So fuckin’ good for me.” He praised once more, moving his head up to catch your gaze.

You shook your head, giggling softly and went to reply when a cramp tightened your belly making you gasp and screw your eyes shut.

“Woah,” Toji rubbed your belly slightly, “Hey, you good, kid?” his worried expression deepened when you shook your head and tried curling in on yourself in an attempt to ease the tightening of your swollen middle.

Toji watched you shiver and put two in two together, “Shh.” Toji comforted as you took deep breaths, rubbing your back.

When the pain finally released you took a deep inhale and looked at him sheepishly, almost afraid to make eye contact with the bigger man, in fear of being scolded for not telling him you were going into labor.

“Was that a contraction?” Toji deadpanned.

Looking everywhere but his eyes, you rubbed the back of your neck, chuckling nervously. ”N-no, I think it was just a kick.” hiding labor from Toji was pointless in the end, the baby was coming either way, but you were terrified - hoping that if Toji wasn’t aware it was happening that the reality of you having to give birth wasn’t one you’d have to experience.

Toji still gave u a bored look, “Oh yeah, cause kicks make you look like you’re about to shit out a baby.”

You blushed at his choice of words and looked down to his hands that were cupping the underside of your middle.

“Okay…” you shifted a tad, bringing another fit of pain along with your movements you gasped and reached out, placing your hand on Toji’s shoulder and gritting your teeth. “Yeah it’s a contraction - oh” you tried laughing through your teeth - being cut off by the searing pain ripping itself throughout your abdomen.

Toji sat silently, rubbing his hands over the taut skin of your stomach, pressing in random places hoping to relieve the pressure.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked once you let out a shaky breath, signaling the contraction had passed. You nodded and he smiled warmly,.

Toji craned his neck to give you a quick peck and then moved back to get a look at your stomach, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the skin gently.

You leaned back slightly and placed your hands on his knees, making more room for him. Bringing your hand to his head and carting your fingers through the raven strands, you focused on the softness of his hair to try and distract yourself from the foreseeable pain you were to feel within the now and when your baby arrived.

“You gotta be more nice t’ya momma, squirt.” Toji scolded lightly, rubbing his thumb over the swollen skin. “She’s putin’ in the blood, sweat, and tears to bring you here.”

You smiled at his teasing and continued to play with his hair, only removing your hand when he moved to sit up straight once more, pulling you against his thick chest and wrapping his arms around you in a loose hug.

He could feel the tension in your body - a clear sign of the fear that hung in the back of your mind.

Toji squeezed your sides a bit and you giggled and squirmed making him smile, laughing at your reaction, he brought you back into the hug and placed his chin on your head, running his rough hands up and down your arms.

“You’ll be okay kid, m’ not gonna let anything happen to ya.” Toji reassured you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keep reading

2K notes · View notes

quaranteehee · 2 years

Text

baby mine

Character: toji fushiguro | toji zenin

Authors Note: Sorry for not posting so regularly! I've been working on requests as well as school work and I just had my last final today so I was able to finish a request! I hope you enjoy Toji loving on his pregnant wife <3 Requested by @albedoughh I hope you enjoy!! <3

Warnings: pregnancy, pet names

Synopsis:

“Can I sit now?” you jumped slightly, moving to rest in his lap but he pushed you back gently making you tilt your head in confusion.

“Not yet, baby,” he smiled, “Let daddy talk to his favorite girls.” he turned his direction to your belly, looking up at your soft expression as his hands rested on the edge of your hoodie, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort before he lifted the heavy fabric over to rest on the rounded part of your middle.

“This one’s pretty” you said as you ran your thumb over the pink fabric of the onesie, your other hand resting under the swell of your middle.

Toji could hear the smile through your voice, his lips turning up at your soft tone. He turned to see you skimming the racks of baby clothes, eyes caught on a baby pink one that read ‘Daddy’s Princess’. Toji came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you and reaching his hands down to cup your swollen belly. “Mhm, sure is.” he placed his chin down to your shoulder before turning his head inwards to place a kiss on your neck, inhaling your rose perfume.

“Still hoping it's a girl?” you smirked, turning your head as much as you could, bringing your hand up from your middle to cup the side of his cheek, watching his features as he turned his attention back to the onesie, his eyes tracing the intricate butterfly designs and brown threaded letters.

“Whatta’ mean? ‘S a girl.” he removed himself from your shoulder and took the onesie off the rack before chucking it into the cart and walking in the direction of the cribs.

You rolled your eyes at his blunt actions, pushing the cart slowly behind him, walking as fast as your back would let you before suddenly the action became much smoother as Toji dragged the cart by its crated side away from your hold. Taking your original place in pushing the cart he moved you to stand beside him, a muscled arm wrapped around your lower back, protecting you and his baby.

Smiling you leaned against him slightly and rubbed your belly as the two of you made your way up and down the aisles. Toji stopped suddenly at a toy doll, images of your unborn daughter running into his arms once he returned home from a mission, tired and muscles sore but he’d always make time for his baby. The idea of her running to him, hair bouncing behind her and arms open wide, the doll in one hand as she squealed “Daddy, daddy hold me!”

You made a “hm?” at the feeling of the cart being stopped and turned to see him looking down at the small packaged doll that sat on the edge of the metal ledge. You smiled warmly at his fixed expression, “You wanna get it for her?” bringing a hand up to his arm that was resting on the red bar of the cart.

Toji nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the toy and bringing his hand from the railing of the cart to rest on ur belly, smoothing the fabric of ur hoodie and rubbing gently into the skin, almost as if he was trying to move your top from out of his way - he needed contact with you, with your baby, with his baby.

“Yeah, I wanna get it for her.” he said, voice distant, mind still wandering over the possible scenarios a simple doll had created. Placing the boxed doll into the cart and cupping you tighter to his side making you stumble a bit. The two of you eventually left as you had gotten everything you needed and your back had begun to cramp.

“Toji?” you shook his bicep gently as he rubbed ur belly absentmindedly, looking at a shelf of different boxed pastas.

“Hm?” he moved his hand outwards thinking you wanted to hold it to which you grabbed it and brought it up to your cheek, your eyes filling with tears, he was so gentle with you.

“Toji, I wanna go home.” your wined, rubbing your cheek against his large palm “my back hurts, and my knees hurt, and my feet hurt, and-” you began to sniffle, you didn't want to cry but you were so tired and your baby was hurting you and you just wanted to go home and eat your vanilla ice cream Toji had bought you and snuggle.

Toji turned to you at the sound of your voice growing weaker and your small sniffles, placing the boxed pasta back onto the shelf before cupping your cheeks in both of his hands, “Oh no, no, no, baby.” He rubbed your soft cheeks gently before stepping back and pulling you into his hold. “I’m sorry, sweetie, we’ll go home now - I got distracted, c’mon, let's go home.” he kissed the top of your head and pulled the front of your hoodie up to pat your cheeks a bit, making your belly become visible to which Toji had to fight the urge right then and there to not pick you up and run out of the shopping center so he could make everything better.

“C’mon, honey, lets go.” he tucked you inbetween his arms as he continued to push the cart, letting you walk at your own pace and occasionally resting his hand at the back of your spine whenever you’d get a tough cramp.

Once everything was paid for, the two of you walked to his truck where Toji picked you up and placed you in the passenger seat, giving you a quick kiss before placing the bags into the back and pushing the cart aimlessly away from his truck.

Toji got onto the driver's side and held his hand out for you to take, kissing the skin of your knuckles before placing his hand on the back of your headrest and reversing out of the parking spot. The rest of the drive was comforting, you were playing music and had your head turned towards the window as you watched the other cars speed alongside you. Each one falling behind to Toji’s more than unsafe speeding. Toji had his hand resting on your thigh, lifting a finger ever so often to stroke the side of ur tummy that he could.

At home, you helped Toji place all the groceries away and took the new clothes and doll up to the nursery. The nursery was pretty, it was a light baby blue color with cute little pink cows that Toji had painted himself and soft cloud lights distributed at different heights along the ceiling. You smiled to yourself and rubbed the underside of your belly, before turning and walking out and back down to the living room where Toji was sharpening his knives.

“Hey, baby.” you smiled and opened your arms, coming around the couch. Toji’s eyes widened when he realized you were far too close to his knives.

“Stop.” he said flatley and quickly placed the knives back into their holds and walked into the other room, leaving you standing there until he came back, walking around you and settling onto the couch where he opened his arms, silently motioning for you to come over to him.

You giggled and waddled over to him, standing between his spread thighs making him chuckle at your excitement. “Hey, sweetie.” he looked up at you, a hand on either side of your middle.

“Can I sit now?” you jumped slightly, moving to rest in his lap but he pushed you back gently making you tilt your head in confusion.

“You’re so gorgeous - fuck” kissed a stretch mark making your eyes widen and heat rise to your cheeks.

“Tojiii” you wined and tilted your head back in embarrassment.

“What?” He laughed and kissed another stretch mark, “Let me love on you, if you weren't so goddamn cute I wouldn't have to.” He placed another kiss to the roundest part before pulling back and spreading his legs wider to let you move into his lap.

“Yay!” you smiled and moved as quickly as your sore body would let you, being mindful of your weight and resting so you weren't lying completely on him until he pushed you all the way onto him. Your back resting against his chest and your legs criss-crossed in between his spread thighs.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, Toji swaying the two of you gently, his hands resting under your belly and your head resting back against his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing shallow.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” he moved to look at your face, bringing a hand up to cup your soft cheek gently, stroking your skin.

“Mhm... you tell me everyday.” you slurred as you drifted in between consciousness and sleep. Suddenly you sat up quickly, placing a hand on the side of your belly and taking a deep inhale.

“You okay, kid?” toji watched you as you nodded slowly, taking his wrist in your hand and moving his hand to rest on where his baby had just kicked.

“Yeah, your daughter wants attention, she heard your voice.” you smiled and looked at his expression which was in a state of adoration as he felt his daughter press up against your skin and into his palm.

Toji gently moved you out of his lap and got down onto his knees in front of you, pushing your hoodie up again and watching your stomach intently, “Were you serious when you said she could hear me?” he looked up at you, a dark eyebrow raised.

You nodded happily and smiled, “yes, baby.” you waited a second and then reached down to grab his wrist again, pulling it back up to your middle, “talk to her.”

Toji rubbed the skin of your belly gently and sat up a bit straighter before leaning closer to your middle and cupping it in between his palms, whispering to your skin quietly. Although you couldn't hear what he was saying you could still feel the excited movements of your baby who was kicking around, hitting your bladder and muscle of your tummy making you wince ever so often but you pushed through it in hopes of catching Toji being gentle in one of his rare “protective daddy moments” you called them.

“What are you even saying to her?” you asked through a grimace, a tightly forced smile painting your features.

Toji looked up at you, noticing your uncomfortable expression. He rubbed your skin gently, soothing his baby's movements. “Secrets.” he stuck his tongue at you playfully before moving back to his original position and speaking up a bit more so you could hear him.

“You momma is so gorgeous and she is so strong and so pretty, you’re really lucky to have her as your mommy and you better be nice to her.” Toji kissed the side of your tummy.

“And daddy loves you so much,” you caught the small whimper he made when he said that, thoughts of his past catching up to his new found family. “Daddy’s always gonna protect you, honey, no matter what.” you watched his eyes turn glossy and his stroking become more soft and personal. “Daddy loves you so much, more than you’ll ever know.” he let a tear fall, gazing at the roundness of your middle for a minute longer before he’d even realized he had begun to cry.

“Whoops, haha” Toji chuckled lightly, wiping his cheek quickly before standing up and sitting beside yo on the couch, grabbing your legs and pulling them into his lap where he began to massage the muscles of your calves, eyes still lingering on your belly.

You smiled at him lovingly and reached up to cup his cheek, stroking his skin down to his chin where you pulled him into a kiss, his hands moving from your legs to your belly. One hand resting on the side and the other on your cheek, his eyes closed tightly as another small tear slipped out.

“It’s okay to cry, honey.” you pulled back and rubbed his cheek again. Toji nodded and smiled warmly at you before leaning down to press another kiss to your belly.

“I know, i know.” he leaned back and rested against the couch, keeping a hand on your belly, stroking the skin here and there gently. “Lemme know if she kicks again will you?”

You nodded and patted that hand resting on your middle, “Of course.” you smiled.

1K notes · View notes