#file.drabbles

[lvl109]

you've started something of a mischievous habit.

caleb prides himself in being as useful to you as possible. reaching higher cabinets, opening tight lids, lifting heavy things around without breaking a sweat. and he expects little to nothing in return. just a smile and a puffed out chest with the words 'that's just what boyfriends do!' never failing to leave his lips when you thank him. so you begin to collect data.

kisses and hugs are more than okay. he's eager to receive as many as you're willing to give with flushed ears and sparkling eyes. sometimes it leads to a little more than planned—but when have you ever complained?

small gifts do vary. he will accept handmade ones the most, like bracelets and small charms for his bags and jackets, if you pout hard enough. snacks almost always work. anything expensive makes him kiss your cheek before gently probing you to return it, but not without stating how grateful he was for your love. he didn't need anything physical from you to prove how much you did.

'letting me help you is more than enough for me, okay? i'm supposed to be spending money on you, not the other way around.'

you can't even be mad at him. earnest and wide eyed and cute enough to eat. but what happened next isn't your fault. mostly, anyway.

a little game of sorts forms in the wake of his near refusal to accept anything from you. calling him ridiculous pet names when he does boyfriend-worthy things, ranging from cute—baby, sweetheart, lover—to gag-worthy—hot stuff, snuggle bug, and sergeant sexy—the last of which made him laugh so hard he almost cried.

you're glad he's getting a kick out of it. if finding random things to do for you just to see what awful nickname you come up with next makes him happy, then so be it. but you don't expect the next one to affect him so much.

the action was innocent. he'd noticed your laces were untied while the two of you were out shopping, dropping to his knees the same moment before you could even look down. it makes you smile, reaching down a bit to ruffle his hair a bit, and the way he leans into your touch reminds you of something.

"thank you, puppy," you tease with a laugh, running your hands through his hair before patting his head. you then look up, a snack stand catching your attention, but nearly trip over your boyfriend still rooted to the floor.

"shit, i'm so so—caleb?"

his head is lowered so you can't see his face, but you do see his ears. bright red. his shoulders are bunched up nervously as if he'd short circuited and forgotten how to stand up.

you call his name again, brows furrowed. had he hurt himself? you tentatively crouch down to his level and tilt his head upwards, only to be greeted with a flushed face and shifting eyes.

"do you really see me like that?" he murmurs, nerves radiating off of him in waves. it takes you a while to realize he's not actually upset despite the pout working around his words. "like a dog?"

ohhh. you just barely fight off a laugh and his eyes narrow in comical fashion.

"really? puppy is what got you? not even sergeant sexy?" caleb manages to turn even redder and you can't help your laugh this time, giggling as you cup his face in your hands. his cheeks are warm to the touch. cute.

"it's not a bad thing. you're very dependable and sweet and you look out for me. and you love attention." a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, then both cheeks. he emits a pleased sound, basking in the glow of your attention and immediately puckering out his lips for a kiss there. "seeeee?"

"whatever you say." caleb smiles, happy when he gets the kiss he asked for. "if being a dog lets me be closer to you for the rest of our lives then. i dunno. woof."

that gets another laugh from you, finally standing up as he follows suit. "good boy."

caleb chokes.

[rueren]

more than an hour - t. oikawa

you know he's tired from practice, but he always makes time for you. and it makes you love him just that much more

aka a very very under edited re-upload from a long time ago T-T

contents: fluff, implied fem!reader, pre-established relationship

haikyuu m.list || masterlist

♡♡♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡♡♡

“Wanna come in?” you questioned. oikawa smiled up at you from behind his hair, sitting on the plush chair in the corner of the fitting room.

“Show me when you got them on. wanna have that shock factor, you know?” you take the clothes he's been holding your you in his lap from his outstretched hands as you nod, "And you know i'm here for fashion advice, babe."

“Please, after the plaid shorts fiasco, i’m not sure i want it,” you teased, leaning down to look him in the eye. His eyes widen a retort on his lips but after the lopsided smirk appears on your face, it turns into a pout and he turns away, arms crossing against his chest.

“That was one time, and we were in high school! One would think you lot would have let it go by now.”

your laugh rings in his ears, and he realizes that he if there was a way he could bottle that sound and keep it on his person forever, he would do so in a heartbeat. he feels your fingers cupping his chin, tilting his pouting face up towards yours and he softens. you're too good to him,

“I’m never letting it go,” another grumble almost tumbles from his lips before you press a chaste whisper of a kiss to his, turning into the fitting room, “Alright, see you in a sec babe.”

after what felt like too long for you to try on whatever outfits you had in your hands, you step out of the change room, you find him slumped against the wall.

your lips tug upwards, seeing his arms still folded tight against his chest, almost hugging himself, and his phone on his lap from where it fell out of his hand. he’s got his head propped up in the corner where the two walls meet, falling over a bit, with his hair falling into his eyes, and his mouth open the slightest bit. one knee knocked against the wall and the other following suit, he’s curled into himself for his nap.

he’d only just fallen asleep a moment ago, after you showed him a top you weren't sure about (he absolutely adored that colour on you, just like how he loved the last colour, and the one before that), his hands reaching out to your waist making your face heat up. How he managed to make you feel this way even after being together for so long was a mystery. so when he hears the shuffling of you grabbing his and your bags, his eyes flutter open, trying to pretend he was awake the whole time.

“Ready to go, babe?” his groggy voice gives him away, and you pick up his phone and tug on his wrist. at the cash, he’s hovering at your back as you pay (much to his protests from earlier, you’d insisted on paying for yourself today, if only from one store. that’s all he’d allow, if you kept insisting on this. (“i don’t see why you need to pay for it,” his bottom lip jutted out slightly, hands shoved into his pockets. “you know you don't have to. I know you can, but i want to, please just let me.” “ that’s exactly why i want to, toruu” “oh my god, you’re so stubborn. fine, one store and that’s all.”)

he’s got his fingers dancing at the hem of your shirt. as much as he wants to just to go home and shove his face into your neck and let the smell of your shampoo and the rhythm of your heartbeat lull him to sleep, he'd rather you be happy shopping. besides, he'd be home soon - if only for a short while. he could spare that much, right? he’d wake up extra early and train super hard tomorrow to make up for it - he knew you wanted to go out today. it was his suggestion, to begin with. he knew how patient you were with him, how he’s always off training, or doing one thing or another and wishes he could be more present, with his hectic schedule.

as tired as he may be, he couldn’t say he wanted to go home now. he could tough it out a little while longer. for you. you deserved it. you're so so good to him, he could tough out a few more hours.

you take a step back and press your back into his chest, and not a second later you feel his forehead thump against the crown of yours. a low hum comes from him as you turn around facing him. his eyes are droopy, the bags under them not hiding anything.

hands outstretched, he’s reaching to get your bag for you. he’d already pried the other ones from your hands while you were paying if only to distract himself from reaching over and replacing your card with his.

“where too next, love?” his fingers lightly graze your before lacing them, “or are you hungry? it’s been a while since we ate. want anything??” he’s too sweet for his own good, when he’s not being sassy anyways.

you tug him along and when you don’t turn right to the next store or the food court, he gets confused. once the mall doors come into view, he feels bad for feeling this sweet tightness in his chest, realizing what your doing.

“babes, what are you doing?” hes feigning innocence as you wrap your arm around his bicep, pulling to the doors.

“you need a nap, toruu. more than a nap.” next thing you know, he’s protesting with words falling from his lips that land on deaf ears and digging his heals into the floor. or more like trying to, but since the waxed glossy mall floor doesn’t give much traction, he’s basically getting dragged. you’re both giggling at his antics, all while his protests are coming out as less convincing than he intended them to be.

he swears up and down through yawns that he’s fine, not tired at all, there’s still a bunch of stuff you guys gotta buy, but you force him into the car and into bed when you get home.

"promise you'll wake me up? 's only gonna be a quick nap,,, couple minutes 'n i'm all yours,,," he mumbles against the fabric of your shirt as you pull the blankets over you both.

you're smiling now, fingers carding in his hair as his eyes flutter shut "one hour. close your eyes, toruu."

when his alarm for one hour blares, you turn it off before it wakes him up. he deserved a more than one hour nap. his peaceful face pressed into your chest, he’s got a leg strewn over your hips, and both his arms wrapped around you. his soft breaths are barely heard under the hum from the heater pumping through the apartment, but every now and then he lets out a sigh that tugs at your heart strings.

the alarm stirred him a little but your hand is in his hair, hushing him back to sleep. your sweet nothings ring in his ear and he nuzzled his face farther into your chest, smiling slightly.

he definitely deserves more than an hour.

taglist: @sweetsbysatori

© all content belongs to rueren on tumblr

[lvl109]

"honey,"

he pokes his head in around the corner of the living room as you lift your head up without your eyes leaving your screen, the sound of typing filling his ears. you hum faintly in greeting.

it's not enough.

fingers curling around the wall, his brows furrow as he pouts when your attention isn't immediately redirected to him. what was more important than spending time with him now? you'd been in front of that screen for hours. he's sure your eyes hurt. his hurt looking at your horrendous posture. so he tries again.

"baby,"

he gets words this time, a mumbled yes? distracted by tiny words on a screen. a small upgrade, but you're still not looking at him. he huffs in disbelief in a short symphony with the sound of your computer whirring away. he glares the traitorous device with the evilest stink eye he can muster.

"angel?" he steps into the living room, shoehorning his way into the perfectly crafted bubble of zen you'd set up a few hours ago. ...if rumpled papers, discarded cups of whatever contents were helping you stay awake, and scattered pens and highlighters could be considered zen-like. he toes at a crumpled ball of paper and you frown at the sound. "my loveee—"

"what do you want, satoru?"

when you finally look at him, exhaustion coating your words with slight bitterness, his smile drops. the bags under your eyes are heavy and your shoulder sag with the weight of responsibility. you look... for a lack of better words, terrible. he takes a step back.

"sorry," he murmurs. his shoulders shrug with forced nonchalance like a scolded teenager. "haven't seen you in a while. missed you, s'all."

he spins around to leave, but not without gently placing a bottle of water and one of your favorite snacks on the table near your laptop. "sorry for interruptin', angel. just take a break, yeah? hate seein' you like this."

when he rounds the corner, the heartbreaking sound of your tired sigh hurts his heart. but he won't push. you'll come to him when you're ready. he can be patient.

and his patience pays off in the form of you crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning. it scares the shit out of him, half asleep when you whisper hushed apologies on the verge on tired tears, but he pulls you into a warm hug the second he registers the first one cascading down your cheek. he doesn't push, doesn't ask any questions, and just holds you as his hand rubs soothing shapes and patters across your back.

"we're gonna sleep in tomorrow," he murmurs softly. "'kay? miss waking up next to you. so don't leave."

please stay, is what goes on unsaid. and you do.

[lvl109]

when he comes home late that night, the last thing he expects to hear is music.

soft as to not disturb the neighbors. he toes out of his shoes and drops his bags near the couch, leaving his keys and a special gift on the coffee table. they're already forgotten as he follows the faint sound of singing as if entranced. his footsteps are light against the floor, hoping they don't give away his presence.

the sight of you in white stops him in his tracks. a weaker man would have fallen to his knees, but he'd already done that two years to this night.

it still looks good on you. the white gown against your skin, flowing out and around your legs as you spin to the music, led by an imaginary partner. eyes closed, trusting your senses the same way you trusted him during the couple's dance.

his feet carry him towards you before he even realizes it, gently tapping your shoulder. "i hope i'm not interrupting," he murmurs when you whirl around, a soft gasp emitting your lips. "i'd like to have my turn now."

the way your smile lights your entire face up makes his heart squeeze so tight. "i wouldn't want anything more."

slowly, he leads you across your bedroom floor, your serene solo turning into a clumsy duet as he sneaks in kisses to your lips and cheeks. it makes you laugh as you both stumble on your feet, letting go of one hand as he twirls you around.

you, in your wedding dress. him, in rumpled clothes from a strenuous mission. but it feels just like it did two years ago. the warmth in your gaze and sure grip between his fingers has never wavered.

"we should renew our vows." satoru shrugs when your brow quirks in mirth. "just to spice things up a little. maybe i want to take you on a nice vacation. sue me."

"it's been two years, my love."

"two years is not too long for me to profess my love for you in front of friends and loved ones again." his hands leave yours as the music dwindles down to its last note, cupping your face with reverence. "i'm booking tickets as soon as you open the gift."

"just say you just want to see me in swimwear." your laugh is sweet. so cute. it just barely prevents him such squishing your face with joy. "and that you want to take it off."

"i'd like to let you know my wife looks great in swimwear." a kiss to your forehead makes your eyes flutter shut, your exasperation fading into content. "and even better without it."

"pervert."

"that's not an objection."

[lvl109]

he doesn't know what possessed him to say it, honestly.

you were just sitting down, his head in your lap, arms around your waist, body curled around you like a pretty blond koala. his eyes fluttered open and close as he listened to you talk about your day, preening, almost, at the feeling of your fingers in his hair.

you were quite surprised at the his sudden clingy behavior, but you weren't one to turn him away when he just about rarely got like this. you'd just figured he'd had a bad day at work from how he was. almost.. too quiet.

he could tell that you had questions, and he'd explain when he could come up with the right words, but he was content with just basking in your presence without talking. for once, the great kei tsukishima, the king of dry humor - sovereign of satire and sarcasm himself, was content. he could hardly believe himself.

ick, feelings. he supposed he had some, for you at least.

he snickers when you lightly smack the back of his head for that, hiding his grin when he hears a faint i heard that mumbled dryily. apparently he'd said that out loud.

it was true, though. he sees your expression soften, and you smile at him, the kind of smile that makes his chest ache with an unfamiliar feeling. so he says the first thing that comes to mind.

“i love you.”

you jolt, accidentally tugging on his collar, which leads him to choke, and you quickly sputter out an apology. your eyes are wide, though, and it makes his cheeks flare impossibly red as he loosens his collar. damnit. too vulnerable.

“do you mean that?” you ask, and he pauses.

he sees you singing in the kitchen as he makes pancakes in the morning, making up a little dance as you do. you may think your voice isn't that good, but it's music to his ears each time. even at six in the morning. he loves it.

he sees you lean into his touch after you fall asleep, his heart swelling as your body curls into his. even in your sleep, your response is to hold him close. (and he'll take this admission to the grave, but it helps him sleep easy at night.) he loves it.

he sees you lean forward with a smile as he goes on a tangent about his interests, finding joy in his joys, and he finds himself seeking you out every time he has something new to share. he loves it. he loves—

he loves you.

so he nods slowly, fingers intertwined with yours as the tips of his ears redden, and finally succumbs to what he—and now, you—already knew.

kei tsukishima was absolutely smitten with you.

(gross, he adds, as an afterthought. how did it come to this?

it’s because you can’t live without me, comes your muffled response, positions switched now leading to your face buried into his shoulder. who else is going to keep your secret about your stashed dino plushie collection?)

[lvl109]

midnight idles.

moonlight spills silk through curtains that sway in front of the window, opened just a crack to let a gentle breeze sift through snow white strands.

peace, once his enemy, relents instantly at the first touch.

it begins with hovering just before you make contact with his infinity—with him—gaze never leaving him. an unknown feeling lodges itself in his chest and burrows deep, making a home.

he’ll be selfish just this once, he tells himself. he curls into the feeling of human touch initiated by someone else, snow white lashes settling over high cheekbones. his shoulders ease gently as the sky beats a gentle legato against the window panes. neither of you move to close it.

fingertips chase the outline of his jaw, leading up to behind the shell of his ear, and he peers at you, curious. calculating. it saddens you. he knows it does.

force of habit, he mumbles. you know.

but here, he learns to drop his troubles at the foot of your bed before he makes himself at home. long limbs tangle with yours and take what you can give him. you wonder if it will ever be enough.

satoru gojo hoards touch like a man starved.

it eats at him wholly, foreign and uncertain, but he craves it. lingering touches, arms brushing past, gentle squeezes on shoulders. you hover over him each and every time, a silent question always present, and that indescribable feeling digs a larger hole in his heart.

the world whittles down to the smell of rain and your laundry detergent, and he’s almost lulled to sleep from the miscellaneous shapes you draw into his shoulder. his head nestles into the crook of your neck like the last puzzle piece slotted into place, content and whole. he feels whole, and uncharacteristically quiet, he mulls over his choices.

“what’re you thinking about?”

a multitude of things, really. his next mission, the people he could afford to care about, their safety—trying to protect them long enough before the world greedily swallows them whole and spits them back, returning in shells of their former selves. the world isn’t kind to most. (he would know.)

and you.

“me?” he shifts to look at you, and your expression is one of pleasant surprise, fingers stilling. they’re still warm against the slight chill of his skin, and the contact spreads heat down his arm. he moves to intertwine his fingers with yours.

he hums his agreement, “always thinking about you.”

force of habit. you smile.

“you changed my life, you know?” the admission is soft, mumbled against your skin, and just barely audible above the gentle rustling of clothes. his gaze lands on the contrast of your fingers resting above his knuckles. “i feel.. safe. with you.”

he doesn’t say since then, but it’s heard. you squeeze his hand three times instead and he exhales softly.

“besides. ‘gumi likes you, so there’s no getting rid of you now. you’re stuck with us whether you like it or not.”

he snorts a laugh when you reach to pinch him with your free hand, fondly remembering the boy sleeping soundly a room over from yours.

“no objections from me.”

[lvl109]

slowly, fingertips drag along the surface of your arm, just barely making their presence known. startled for a brief moment–you soon welcome his touch with a sigh, leaning backwards into the chair as his touch moves upwards: rubbing at your shoulders, grazing the outline of your neck, caressing your face. you tip your head backwards to meet his gaze and he offers the faintest edges of smile in return.

your heart squeezes in familiarity at the all too welcomed sight. it's been a while since the both of you have had time to spend with each other, your schedules just barely aligning. zayne always seemed to be just out of reach as the hospital was ever demanding and you didn't want to interrupt his down time—when he did get the time to wind down. you, on the other hand, were neck deep within the growing abundance of endless meetings and paperwork that never seemed to stop piling up, no matter how hard you worked.

it was tiring. you were tired, and in the midst of your exhaustion, you'd forgotten that he didn't have to go in today, the routine of getting used to barely seeing him engraved within you as you walked yourself home that night. you'd texted him before you left your job, of course, your messages being one of the few ways the both of you managed to get glimpses of each other within the everyday chaos.

"hey." he nudges the side of your head gently, and you close your eyes as the sound of his voice engulfs you, spreading warmth right to your bones. god, you missed this. you missed him. "tired?"

you nod slowly, a faint smile gracing your lips as his own presses a soft kiss upon your forehead, the side of your face, your cheeks. you miss it with your eyes still closed, but the serenity in his gaze is warm enough to feel.

"missed you," is all you can manage, craving more and more of his touch now that you've gotten a taste of it after so long. you can't even remember the last time you had peacefully enjoyed each other's company.

"sorry," he murmurs tenderly, brows creased slightly as he tugs you towards the couch, his arms wrapping around you soon after, and suddenly he's everywhere. your rest your head within the crook of his neck and curl into his side, finally allowing yourself to relax. it's a moment before he speaks up again, the two of you a comfortable mass of tangled limbs and love. "i missed you, too."

"don't apologize for something you can't control," you smile, and he pulls you closer in response, resting his head atop yours. "you're here now, and.. that's all that matters."

[lvl109]

red eyes observe you from your curled position on his couch, still shrouded in the darkness that he knows like the back of his hand. familiar coat draped across his shoulders, he simply stares at your sleeping form with something... soft. fond.

the end credits of your movie mull across the muted screen. the tv casts a warm glow on your closed eyes and casts a pretty shadow of your lashes across your cheekbones. you'd stayed up late again despite him telling you not to wait up. a stubborn one, you were.

his fondness grows and tugs the corners of his lips upwards.

his footsteps are quiet when he approaches you, muffled by carpet and a will to not wake you up. he admires your willingness to defy him on nights like this. where he truly gets to see how much you care despite the brash show of push and pull he gets when you're awake. (not that he isn't fond of that, either. openly so, he would think.)

with gentleness that even surprises himself, sylus smooths a thumb across the expanse of your cheek, head tilted just to watch. a soft exhale leaves your lips when he makes contact with your skin. how cute.

still, no matter how soft his luxury couch was, it was not place for permanent rest. there was a perfectly fine bed waiting further in the house for the both of you to sink into. so with the same gentleness, his arms cradle the back of your neck and under your thighs to hoist into his arms, leaving the throw blanket you'd used for warmth draped against the cushions.

the relieved sigh you let out once placed onto softer bedding makes him huff a faint laugh, shaking his head. "if you were that uncomfortable," he murmurs as he draws the covers over you, "you could have just waited in bed."

the mattress dips when he sits next to you, once again stopping to admire just how pretty you were. "but then again, you never would listen to me. it's one of the things i've grown to look forward to. feisty little thing."

a large hand moves to brush your hair away from your face tenderly, stopping just as the moonlight casts its silver glow onto your pillow. the look on his face could no longer just be described as fondness now. not with the way his breath stills and his heart jackrabbits in his chest. it's new. vulnerable. yours.

"get some proper rest, now. i'll see you in the morning, sweetheart."