urztrulymikauh

[urztrulymikauh]

suna is always there to adjust your skirt. his fingers are always curling over the edge of the fabric, lightly tugging down when you bend over or reach up. anytime it threatens to go up, his hands are there first.

it's the same with your shirts. you reach up, and he'll pull down to hide the silver of your skin, though his hand will linger. your hoodie falls back while lying on his shoulder; his fingertips are already pulling the hoodie into its place. the earphones you two share will be adjusted; he'll reach over, ensuring that they are comfortably on. he'll place a hand on the corner of the cabinet or the corner of the desk.

he does it with everything. your tank tops, shorts, dress with a revealing cleavage. probably comes unconsciously, a habit built over the years shared together. you, however, notice. it's a nice, subtle way of showing his love for you.

[urztrulymikauh]

ᯓ☆pranking caleb 🫧

ᯓ☆ you’re just so busy

ᯓ☆ who tf is j?

ᯓ☆ i didn’t send you flowers

A/N: If this is too corny… I WASN’T HERE!!!

🍎 Tags: @xiaprint @mcdepressed290 @calebapplepie @xcelfer @honeymoonfleur @obeythebutler @ajyoursgirl @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @honeycrispangels @dummiebunny @sucre-princesse @brailsthesmolgurl @klossnite @grlyeetswrld @beesin03 @dramaticalsachan @moonchildjae00 @multisstuff @littledarlingsthings @purpleamethyst25 @meadowinthesky @grackerzzz @nod4mnm3rcyy @loveinorion @ur-l0cal-crypt1d @cowaungabungabby @gravity-pilot @nyanahogini @rosiesluv @goochfiddler99 @torturedbabyapple @kiyadeleine @carcelswaifu @blushofeve @whattnanii @ashirelle @sylvieisoffline @saturnquartz @dewmarionette @horanghaeegr @iconoclastoc @hilliserose @alyakhq @rina-lidou @celestialhoneycaleb @jeansdoll

♾️ Tags: @starryeyed-apple @asiatic-apple @sensual-study @sweetcalebb @asiaticapple @raemanova @awquaz @callads7 @floatinginaer @crimsonsylus @aquarianbeat @inutrasha94 @jadestone2 @lamogliedizayne @sylusqt @gktdh @nottodaynotrn @raendarkfaerie

creds to @/cursed-carmine for the dividers!

[urztrulymikauh]

– sylus loves you ༯

when sylus gets asked questions about his girlfriend, there wouldn’t be any specific answer he’d give them, it would rather be the same broad answers.

but when a colleague asked him, “what’s one part of your girlfriend you love the most” sylus would think about it, well, pretend to think about it, hard.

one part? he loves? that’s impossible to answer.

cause he loves every part of you.

“i love every part of her.” he answers with full confidence, but the colleague wouldn’t buy it.

“c’monn nothing specific? her hands? thighs? lips? ass-”

a menacing glare shot right through the colleague and he zipped his mouth immediately. but as the conversation started to switch and sylus started to get bored, the question still lingered in his mind.

one part, huh?

he drove home a little quicker than usual, he didn’t even put his helmet on either, all he needed to do was see you.

when he headed home you were peacefully sitting on the couch and sylus didn’t even bother taking off his shoes before pouncing on you.

the question started to grow louder in his mind.

‘c’monn nothing specific? her hands?’

sylus traced a soft pattern on your arms, staring at your delicate skin before slowly snaking his warm, rough fingertips up to your hands and interlocked his fingers with yours.

perfect.

‘thighs?’

sylus glanced down at your bare thighs, staring at the light goosebumps scattered all over your skin. he brought his free hand to your plush thigh, grabbing onto it and squeezed it tight.

perfect.

‘lips?’

sylus lightly bit on his bottom lip, eyes gleaming desperately at your pursed lips, a light smile creeping up on them before you giggle and ask him what’s wrong.

and the same spark that he felt admiring your other body parts went right through him a third time. he leaned in and pressed his lips on yours.

still holding onto every other part of your body because there is no correct answer to the question, he loves every part of you equally and wouldn’t even bother choosing a ‘specific’ part to love the most.

a/n: btw thank u for the support!! a little fluff for today and smut will come right back :)) also i’m going right back to purple text lol

[urztrulymikauh]

"don't leave."

his hand circles around your wrist when you shift ever so slightly, rustled clothing filled the once peaceful silence. his voice is muffled into your shoulder, his brows furrowed at the disturbance... and a pout on his lips.

a small breath fans the skin of your exposed shoulder, his nose skimming almost the surface. half asleep. words jumbled and not quite awake. but his grip is assured. seeking.

"don't..." he trails off, grumbling incoherently, and the sight almost makes you laugh. your mirth is greeted with an eye lazily pried open. "'s not funny. you're leaving me all alone. it's cold."

"i'm just going to the bathroom..."

your reasoning falls on deaf ears, much to your growing amusement and disbelief. sylus lets out a huff and turns around on his side, petulance evident in the seemingly nonchalant manner of his body language. his bare back expands with an exaggerated sigh of resignation.

"sylus—"

"no, no. if you loved me, you would have used the bathroom beforehand. clearly love is not something your bladder has for the sanctity of sleeping together."

he waves you off, a light waggle of his fingers, and draws the covers over himself. you can only exhale and laugh quietly to yourself. unable to help it, you linger just for a few more seconds and crawl back into bed.

"marriage has made you soft." your voice teases him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "you used to go days without seeing me and now you can't handle five minutes."

sylus turns, sleepiness doing little to hide the devotion in his gaze. his hand gently cradles the side of your face before he speaks. "i waited for you for years. forgive me for being greedy."

"it's just the bathroom," you protest weakly. damn him and his penchant for making your heart flutter. his head tilts, unmoved at your rebuttal.

"so? i would sit on the toilet while you showered if you let me. i want to be everywhere you are."

[urztrulymikauh]

HAND ME DOWN ; Suna x f!reader

getting back together with your ex after a decade

contains: 2nd chance romance, exes to lovers, complicated feelings, socmed AU oneshot, lots of cursing, suna being a bit of a loserboy (affectionate), osamu being cupid and object of desire in the crossfire, OSASUNAYN!!!, heavily suggestive (mdni), one kms joke in the last slide, did i mention osasunayn. hello i'm back in the fucking building

a/n: hi osasunayn nation how are we feeling tonight

[urztrulymikauh]

iwaizumi calls you a chicken for not getting in the water at the beach and then when you start taking off your clothes he’s like “wait i didn’t mean that i didn’t want to be disrespectful don’t feel pressured to undress” and then you’re like “wooow you don’t want to see my body? you think i’m ugly?” and it’s the most stressed out he’s been in ten years. he might start crying with the effort of keeping his eyes up

[urztrulymikauh]

love me some angst

[12:23 am]

Osamu swears he’s going to hire someone for the graveyard shift.

He can’t keep doing these obscene night cleaning-shifts alone, they run him exhausted and keep him from coming home to you for a vast majority of the night, keeping you both from each other.

You leave before he wakes up. He’s back after you’ve gone to bed.

He’d assured you that, tonight however, he was going to be home at 9, come hell or high water, to spend a night with you like you deserve, because if anyone deserves his attention for being a good sport, so patient and loving and kind to him, it’s you.

But he’s not perfect, despite what he’d love to believe.

Because counting the registers turned into resweeping the floors. Then, when he realized it was still before 9, he started to wipe the counters. By the time that was done, he’d noticed the sacks of rice that needed to be moved to the kitchen from the pantry in preparation for tomorrow’s rush. He needed to scan them in for inventory, then he needed to pencil them in to make another note of how much he needs to order from Kita-San.

All this… until his watch cruelly reminded him of the time.

Past midnight.

Now osamu drives home in silence, a massive hand scrubbing down his face while the other weakly holds the steering wheel.

It's a miracle he's alive to tell the tale.

His eyes are heavy as he pulls into your driveway, home silhouetted in the moonlight like a beacon of hope. He shambles into his home, carefully maneuvering around his dark home as to not wake you. He knows you're asleep in bed, curled on your side with your head on his pillow bc it smells like him, and he'll have to move you so gently and try not to melt at the sleepy smile you give him.

Tonight, however, you surprise him.

The room is lit with candles that are placed on top of books that lead like a trail to the bed, the lamp covered with a thin, red cloth that adorns the room in a pink hue. Melted chocolate strawberries are plopped on his nightstand. He smiles at the sight of you, his onigiri shirt which pools around your body and a pair of underwear, curled up on the bed and sleeping soundly, using your pillows as a blanket.

He sighs as his heart aches from all the clear effort you put into the decor, bowing slightly to blow out the candles- he’s honestly amazed the house hasn’t burned down- all before making his way to the bed and slowly sitting down. He smiles fondly as your brows furrow at the dipping of the bed, and he rests a loving hand on your back, thumb running back and forth soothingly.

“All this work and I couldn’t be quicker, huh?” He mumbles to you, knowing you can’t hear him, but he chuckles as you shuffle to be closer to the new warmth. Finally, your eyes twitch to slowly open, and you yawn as you slowly blink awake, sleepy gaze drawing up to Osamu. You smile and try to curl closer to him, “hi, baby,” you mumble sleepily.

He clicks his tongue fondly and moves his hand to cup your cheek, stroking his thumb over the creases from your smile, “hey sweetheart… what’s all this, hm?” He asks, smiling happily when you chuckle and close your eyes again.

“Wanted us to have a romantic evening,” you explain, and osamu wants to kill everyone who kept him from you tonight. “I miss our time together, but we’ve been so busy and…” In your sleepy haze, you must realize what you’re saying because your eyes fly open and you stop yourself from finishing your thought, but Osamu already knows what you’re thinking before you can even tell him otherwise.

“And I was supposed to be here,” he sighs. When you say nothing and your eyes do your best to avoid his, he scratches the tiny hairs at the nape of your neck, “I’m sorry, baby, I should’ve been here.”

“You were working,” you hum, head nuzzling against your own arm more. “I get it.”

“I just don’t have the time anymore for stuff like this-“

His words trail off before they can dive from his tongue, but he wonders if it was worth it, because the silence is suffocating, and he can already tell by the way your brows furrow in pain that even you’re surprised with his words.

“Have the time…” you begin, slowly sitting up. “For… what?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he corrects, but at this point, he’s watching your face contort from shock to just… sadness. He feels his heart break, he knows he needs to fix this. “I just meant I didn’t have anymore free time.”

This time, you slowly sit up, still facing away from him, and he hates the feeling of you being so appalled by his audacity when he’s trying so hard to fix it- even if there’s nothing to fix.

There’s nothing he can say, not much else he can do, he’s done his damage, and now his price is to watch your glimmering eyes blink a line of tears that quickly get wiped away with the back of your hand.

“I didn’t realize I was free time,” you choke, and he moves his lips to try and form words, but not a single one comes out to try and fix the situation.

You’re not, he wants to say. That you take all his time, you’ve earned all this time, all he wants is you, all the time, and he’s been shitty and he’s amazed you haven’t upped and left him for all he is when it’s all he deserves.

Why the hell can’t he just say it?

“I’m… I’m gonna go out to the couch,” you say, finally looking up at him and sealing the final nail in his coffin. Your sclera’s are red with tears, and your voice croaks from the lump of embarrassment that settles against the chords.

“No, no, no baby, c’mon,” he pleads, reaching out to grab your wrist. “We can still have a good night, yeah?” He brings your hand up to kiss your knuckles, “have some strawberries, drink some champagne, right?”

You offer him a small, fake smile, but your eyes glimmer in betrayal, “it’s okay. It’s late. You’ve got to be up tomorrow morning.”

“But-“ he squeezes your wrist tighter. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch,” he whimpers. “We can still cuddle, I always have time to cuddle with ya.”

“Do we have to pencil that in as free time too?” You scoff. He deserves it, he know he does, but he reels his hand back like he’s been burned, heartbreak squeezing his chest.

“Baby, no… god, no, I’m sorry-“

“I know you just tripped up your words, Osamu,” you confess, wrapping your arms around yourself as an attempt to comfort. “But you clearly were feeling that way, that’s why the thought was there. You meant what you said, even if it wasn’t how you wanted to say it.”

"But-"

"We can finish this tomorrow," you whisper, and he hears it in your throat that you're fighting back tears. "I'm tired."

"Yeah... okay..."

But you don't go to sleep.

Osamu knows this.

Because he never went to sleep either, staring at the ceiling while he listened to you wail on the phone with your best friend, his own tears biting his eyes, hot like fire as they roll down his face.

[urztrulymikauh]

IM SCREAMING FROM THE MOUNTAINSSSSS COWBOY SYLUS FANTASY RETURNS WITH A BURNIN SOUTHERN PASSION ART BY CHIMCHILLA

This makes me want to write!!! Cookin up a cowboy sylus drabble as we speak!!

[urztrulymikauh]

"sylus, do you want kids?"

it's taken you three years to finally gather the courage to pose that question. neither of you ever brought it up, and it's probably because you'd mentioned a personal distaste for the notion of having them back in the early days of your relationship. you didn't want the inconvenience, the pain, the pressure, the change, the loss of comfort. you'd always had the mindset that you'd rather regret never having children than regret having them. you won't let your children, if you ever have any, grow up thinking they were a mistake and unwanted.

he stops in his movements with the bowl in front of him. he's currently making dinner, stirring the marinade for the beef he's going to stir fry, and looks over at you. you're sitting on a stool at the island bench to his left, enjoying a glass of wine, but your mood sobered when the lighthearted conversation from earlier died down into companionable silence, and your mind wandered to other things. why they strayed to the prospect of children and finally starting a family? you haven't the faintest idea.

"what makes you ask?" is his reply. careful, quiet, trying to work out where you're going with this. sylus finally starts placing the beef strips into the sauce to marinate, and then he gets started on chopping vegetables. you get up to grab out the wok for him, and shrug. "dunno. just a thought."

"it's your call, sweetheart," he says softly, hands deft as the kitchen resounds with the sound of a knife hitting wood. "you said you never wanted them."

"yeah." you pour some oil into the wok and grab out a knife also, cutting the ends of an onion off and peeling it. "it's just, well...i never asked what you wanted, you know? you say it's my call, but it's yours, too. we're married and what all those stories call 'one flesh'. it takes two, so it's your choice as well."

"i understand that you don't want to experience labour. i can't say i'm eager to see you in such agony, either."

"but it's well-rewarded," you reply, slowly slicing the onion, thoughts all over the place. "at least, that's what happy couples and families say. we're a happy couple. i think you'd make an excellent father. you're good with kids."

it's silent for a few moments, where there's just the sound cutting and slicing and scraping of knives against two boards, and then sylus speaks up again. "i've always wished to have children with you."

you stop, staring at the diced vegetable in front of you, and tears spring to your eyes. it's the sting of the onion, that's all it is. "...yeah?"

"yeah."

"i see." you lift your shoulder and turn your head to wipe your eyes against your shirt, sniffling. it's the onion. just the onion. "for how long?"

"years." two large, tanned hands enter your blurred line of sight, take the knife out of your hand, and engulf them in his own. you're blinking rapidly, trying to expel the sting and surging emotions and you peer up at your husband through the tears. you can make out a soft smile. "i was sad when you said you didn't want any, but i understood. i still do."

"what if..." you give up on your shirt and step into his chest to use his. just to wipe the tears. not to bury your face into it. "what if i've changed my mind?"

"then i'd be overjoyed."

"it's going to be hard."

"yes, it will, but when isn't everything?"

you grin a little, sniffling. "girl or boy?"

he rubs loving circles into your back. "i've always wanted a baby girl."

"just one?"

"why?" sylus eases you away from him enough snicker down at you. "eager for more?"

you smack his bicep, flushed, biting back laughter. "you know that's not what i meant, you big oaf!" you let him chuckle and let yourself get all hot and bothered, and then you sober a little. "it's just, well...the kid's gotta have siblings, you know?"

"it's still your call, sweetheart."

"i'm asking you what you want, though. how many?"

sylus appears to ponder it for a moment, arms still wrapped around you. "hm. three? four? perhaps two. we've already got enough on our plate."

"with the twins, you mean?"

his answering grin is soft. "yeah. if you want."

you squish your face back into his chest, inhaling his scent, listening to his heartbeat, savouring his warmth. "...four'll do."

"what if there's an unplanned fifth?"

"then that'll be your fault. and then we'll have five kids."

full, familiar lips you adore so much brush the top of your head in a sweet peck. "that sounds nice, doesn't it?"

perhaps you've softened to the idea of childbirth and having mini syluses and mini yous darting about the place. getting in your way, getting in his way, wailing and giggling and whining for ice cream. it's something you can easily imagine with this man.

so you clutch him to you tightly, smiling. "yeah. it does."

[urztrulymikauh]

Suna Rintarou x Reader 𝅄 ꣑ৎ ࣪𓈒

You Love Me - Kimya Dawson

[urztrulymikauh]

☕️ | for @sxnnee (myself)

Sakusa Kiyoomi—The infamous outside hitter of the MSBY Black Jakals. Many people know him as a clean freak—a germaphobe. A man who couldn't stand to be near someone without spraying them with a cleaning agent because they got too close.

But in reality, none of that is true. Yes, he does enjoy it when things are clean, and he enjoys it when people have good hygiene and stay a reasonable distance away from him, but all of that is a stretch.

He enjoys cleaning, especially when it's with you. His partner. Someone who spends time cleaning with him, no complaints.

"Okay, the things I wanna get done today are: Dishes, laundry, and cleaning the kitchen—which includes the countertops, cabinets, cupboards, floors, pantry, and the fridge. Is that too much for just today?"

You look up from the book you were reading, eyes focusing on your husband. He stands in the kitchen, leaning on the island and sipping a glass of water.

You close your book with a soft thump, placing it gently on your lap as you eye Sakusa with a warm, amused smile. He doesn’t look intense or irritated—just focused, a little determined. His curls are still damp from the morning shower, and he’s in one of his old university t-shirts that’s a little too snug across the chest from all those years of volleyball.

“I mean,” you start, stretching your legs out over the couch, “it is a lot for just one day. But...” You pause, watching the way his gaze lifts from the rim of his glass to meet yours. “If we do it together, it might just be doable.”

Sakusa’s mouth twitches at the corner, not quite a smile yet. “You say that now, but you always disappear halfway through laundry.”

“Because you fold everything like it’s going into a museum display,” you tease, rising to your feet and padding toward him.

He sets the glass down, meeting you at the edge of the island, arms loosely crossing over his chest. “And because someone mixes darks and lights without remorse.”

You gasp in mock offense, reaching out to poke his side. “That happened one time.”

He catches your wrist gently and tugs you in closer, the cleanliness checklist temporarily forgotten. His voice lowers just a little, teasing yet fond. “Mm. One time too many.”

You roll your eyes affectionately. “Fine. You do the laundry, I’ll handle the pantry. But I’m putting on music this time. No podcasts about hand hygiene history again.”

Sakusa chuckles, the sound rare but rich and real. “Deal.”

And just like that, your quiet Sunday morphs into a soft symphony of music and chore-sharing—him scrubbing the counters with almost artistic precision while you organize cereal boxes and snack bins, bumping into each other on purpose just to exchange quiet grins. It's not just cleaning—it’s home. It’s him. It’s you. Together.

m.list

© 𝑺𝑿𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑬, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 ᯓ★

[urztrulymikauh]

someone give me this rn

bf!daichi who spoils you quietly with the little things. you tell him your favorite drink once and he’s at the continence store buying a case so he can bring you one every morning until they run out. he remembers your coffee order like the back of his hand. also the type to hand you some kind of granola bar or fruit in the morning when you tell him you haven’t eaten. “i thought you might skip breakfast,” like it’s no big deal at all.

bf!daichi who’s a hand holder, thumb caressing and squeezing when he’s anxious or nervous or just thinking about something. if he’s not holding your hand or if he can’t, he’s resting a hand on your back, thumb moving back and forth against your skin.

bf!daichi who is the calm type of person when he’s jealous. he doesn’t get jealous often because he knows you’re his and his only, but he gets a little serious and short with his words. when you leave, he apologizes if he came off as too protective even though he barely did anything. “i just… don’t like seeing someone else try to get your attention like that.”

bf!daichi who’s love language is half-caretaking, half-quality time. he’ll cook for you, carry your heavy bag without needing to ask if you need help, throw a blanket over you before you even realize you’re cold. he loves existing in the same space as you. he doesn’t need constant chatter, he’s just there.

bf!daichi who’s hugs feel almost too unreal. he’s broad and warm, so they’re always inviting and make you melt like water in his arms. there have been times where you just needed a good cry and what better place to do it than your boyfriend’s strong arms?

[urztrulymikauh]

oh to be iwaizumi hajime’s wife with a baby *sigh*

papa?

picking up your husband iwaizumi hajime after his days work at the gym is over with your baby wrapped up on your chest. something had gone wrong with his car, resulting in it currently at the repair shop being fixed. this left you and your one year old son in charge of pick up duty. you slide open the door and step into the vast gymnasium of japan’s national men’s volleyball team, greeted with the sound of shoes squeaking on freshly polished hardwood floor and the smack of volleyballs being spiked over the net. sitting on a bench off to the side of the court is hajime, writing some type of report in a notebook with a focused expression. you walk along the sidelines to him, holding your baby’s head to shield him from any unsuspected volleyballs that may fly your way.

hajime only looks up from his work as you seat yourself next to him, typical. he’s always so focused and invested in his job. only during his work hours is he like this, though—he always makes time for his two favorite people.

hajime smiles at you and places a kiss to your temple in greeting, putting his notebook and pen off to the side before shifting in his seat to face you more directly. “hey. didn’t realize you were here.”

“must’ve lost track of time again, right?”

“as usual,” he admits a bit sheepishly, “i really need to finish filling out this sheet of supply orders for next month.”

“hmph. you have that nice smart watch but you hardly ever pay attention to when you need to clock out of work,” you gesture to the sleek black band on his wrist as you speak.

“sorry, love i—” his words are cut off by the babbling of your son, who’s stubby arms are reaching for his papa. he looks up at his dad with wide and admiring eyes, dawning the same tan skin as his father and the same deep brown color in his wispy head of hair and irises. there’s not a doubt in sight that he’s hajime’s child; he’s practically the spitting image of him.

you two can’t help but chuckle at his efforts to cling to his dad, his movements restricted by the wrap holding him close against your chest. “you wanna give papa a hug?” you coo.

the restraint doesn’t give in, and your son looks up at you with an adorably frustrated face of confusion and surprise at the spectacle. “you can’t get anywhere in this wrap, huh?” you say as you gently pull him out of the restraint, handing him off to hajime.

once your son is in hajime’s arms, it’s within an instant that he wraps his small and chubby arms around his neck. hajime holds him securely against his chest, an affectionate laugh escaping his lips at the way his baby boy looks up at him with such adoring eyes. “looks like you really missed your papa,” hajime says fondly before placing a peck to the top of his delicate head. at this, your baby giggles loudly and begins to blabber incoherent sentences, ones that hajime pretends to understand nonetheless.

“you know, once we got here, he kept asking me ‘papa?’ the whole walk from the parking lot to the entrance. i guess he recognizes this place pretty well now.”

“oh, really?” at your words he peppers kisses all along your son’s chubby cheeks, “papa missed you too. so, so much.”

and it’s not without your son first being showered with praise and love from the team that the three of you leave to go home, praise that your baby accepts with innocent giggles and lots of squirming—all from the comfort of his papa’s warm embrace. undoubtedly his favorite place to be.

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

a/n: iwaizumi is such a good boy dad. a little self indulgent bcs i have big baby fever.

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[urztrulymikauh]

When you messaged Suna to ask if he could send you a video of Atsumu for a friend, the side of his lip lifted in a little scowl. He considered it for a second before sending you a video of Atsumu sneezing into his towel at a volleyball game, before handing it to Osamu for him to unknowingly rub his face with it.

Suna watched from across the cafeteria as you frowned, leaning away from your phone screen in disgust as you watched the video. It made a small laugh huff between his lips as he tried to hold back the satisfied smile.

From y/n: I can’t send this to her?? she’s head over heels for that piss-head

From Suna: oh it’s actually for your friend

With an ungraceful sound of realisation that you were in fact asking for a friend and not just using it as a cheeky excuse, Suna glanced at Atsumu who was currently stuffing his face with onigiri, his cheeks covered in stray rice as he talked while chewing.

From Suna: he doesn’t have any good angles tho, you’re on your own

And he thrived in the way you found his eyes across the room to hit him with a glare because at least you weren’t the one crushing on the twin. Even if you were, his video planted enough doubt in the Miya genes to last until he finally asked you out. Crisis averted.

I've fallen ill and will be taking a bit longer on the requests for my event, so have this drabble in the meantime<3

[urztrulymikauh]

those dang hq slideshows 🙁

how i look at my phone's screen reading angst near someone and having to hold back tears

[urztrulymikauh]

[ sakusa kiyoomi ]

considering your boyfriend made it pretty clear on several occasions that he hated valentines, you weren’t surprised he made no move to even contact you during the day. you were slightly disappointed due to the fact that you loved the day, sure, but it wasn’t fair to place your disappointment on him when you knew what you were getting yourself into due to the years of friendship before dating, so you didn’t dwell much on it.

you had asked previously if you two would meet tonight and when he mumbled a response about how he would probably be practicing late, you took over your co-workers shift to save yourself the boredom of being home alone while consecutively giving her a chance to see her partner, earning multiple ‘thank you!’s and a promise that she will take your shift whenever as she rushed out, prompting you to smile.

you loved valentines.

you didn’t have a solid reason on why you did, but you didn’t need one. you loved being surrounded with red heart balloons and roses wherever you walked and you loved the glee on people’s faces as they celebrated the day with their beloveds. it made you feel warm every time despite your plans or status and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched a boy blush furiously as his girlfriend handed him flowers, giggling quietly with a love-dazed face.

the obnoxious bell ringing against the glass door made you turn to the costumers walking in, your smile widening just slightly as you saw osamu and atsumu bickering as they approached the counter until their eyes landed on you and widened just the slightest, atsumu gasping. “yer working today?!”

“yeah,” you mused, placing your chin on your palm. “you’re both spending valentines together?”

they both shot you a glare that only caused your grin to widen, placing their usual orders down on the system either way. osamu grunted. “he finished his date early and went over to have a mental breakdown at my restaurant.”

atsumu gaped at him for a few seconds in pure betrayal as you let out a quiet snicker before he shot his twin a harsh glare. “at least i had plans!”

osamu gave him a glare back. “they are out of town, you little—“

“please don’t scare my costumers away,” you retorted, cutting them off. they both huffed, avoiding eye contact before their eyes landed back on you and atsumu raised an eyebrow.

“what about ya? plans ended early?”

“there were no plans,” you shrugged casually, adding extra syrup into osamu’s drink while catching the discreet way his eyes lightened up at the action. “kiyoomi hates valentines.”

atsumu frowned. “but ya love valentines!”

you hummed, sliding osamu’s drink over. “so? i don’t have to spend it with him against his will to be happy.”

osamu stared at you with furrowed eyebrows and a frown that matched his twin’s. “yer too nice. so, where is he today?”

you shrugged. “told me he was practicing.”

they both shared a look before looking at you and speaking in sync. “when do you get off? we’re taking you out.”

you smiled as you slid atsumu’s drink over, stating that the drinks were on the house when they attempted to pay before telling them that you only had a few minutes left. as you finished the last bit of your shift, you could hear them checking with their partners that it was okay and you couldn’t help but silently melt at how cute their relationships were as you waited for the last costumer to leave and closed up, shrugging your jacket off before calling out for them.

the rest of the day was nice. the three of you bought over-priced cupcakes and ate them in a dark playground, half the time spent with you laughing in amusement while they argued while the other half was spent with the three of you gossiping about drama suna had shared. they even bought you a red heart-shaped balloon and you almost teared up as you gleefully accepted it, thanking them frantically as they walked you to the door of your apartment building.

“can i do something before ya leave?” atsumu grinned mischievously and you snorted as you nodded, interested to see what his plan was. he simply got out his phone, making you stand between the twins before he snapped a selfie of the three of you, making sure to capture osamu’s small smirk, the balloon and his poked-out tongue before he beamed. “sent!”

you raised an amused eyebrows as osamu snickered. “you sent that to kiyoomi?”

“yeah, told him we stole ya.”

you laughed as you bid them your goodbyes and made your way up to your joined apartment, humming your favorite song under your breath softly. you assumed your boyfriend was still practicing, so you were pleasantly surprised when you unlocked the door and the lights were all on, your boyfriend’s shoes in their usual spot.

“kiyoomi, i’m home!” you called out after a sleepy yawn, expecting to get a simple ‘in our room!’ or anything back. instead, your boyfriend walked out of the hallway with furrowed eyebrows and a frown.

“you were with the miyas?”

“hm? yeah.” you hummed, placing your stuff down on the coffee table, too sleepy to notice the way he was practically sulking. “they came before my shift ended and decided to take me out. when did you arrive?”

he huffed as he dragged himself over, strong arms pulling you into a tight hug as he buried his face into your neck. you smiled softly, your hands moving to lock into his hair as you hugged him even tighter. he hummed softly. “i missed you, how was your day?”

“it was nice,” you murmured quietly, enjoying the warmth he provided. “i love valentine’s day.”

he froze. you obliviously continued.

“the café was super busy, but it was nice seeing everyone on dates, you know? there were a lot of roses as well and it’s just so heartwarmin—“

he pulled away quickly, eyebrows furrowed deeply. “you… you love valentines?”

“hm?” you blinked. “yeah? it’s my favorite holiday.”

“you love valentines?”

you let out a small laugh at how cute he looked when he was confused. “of course i do. everyone knows i do, kiyoomi, how did you never notice?”

he tugged his hands into his hair. “how did i not notice— why didn’t you tell me you loved valentines?”

you shrugged calmly, not seeing the issue, and your nonchalance only seemed to make him even more distressed. “you hate valentines so i didn’t see why i should mention it, you know? i didn’t want you to force yourself to plan anything or do anything for me.”

he stared at you for a few seconds before he fell back on the couch, burying his face into his hands and mumbling muffled words before he let his hands fall down and frowned. “you’re an awful human being.”

you were too amused to take offense as you shrugged a few of the thick layers you wore off. “why am i an awful human being, my love?”

“how can you not tell me you love valentines? i would have taken a day off and i would bought you those stupid overpriced flowers and those overpriced chocolates you would hate and we could have spent the entire day together and—“

“you don’t like valentines.”

“yeah, but i love you.” he huffed. “i love you and i want to make you happy.”

“i’m always happy with you,” you assured, slightly entertained. “i promise. why do you seem more upset about us not spending this together than me?”

“because i was under the impression that you also hate valentines,” he muttered as exhaustion finally seemed to take over, his drooped shoulders and pout causing the almost 6’3 professional athlete to seem like a child. you took the seat beside him and he immediately laid his head down on your lap, huffing. “i didn’t know you liked it. i would have planned the best day if i knew you did, i promise.”

“you keep missing the point, my love.”

“what’s the point of anything if i ruined our first valentines together?”

“you’re such a drama queen,” you snorted softly, running your hands through his soft hair as he blinked sleepily. “the point is that i don’t need to celebrate valentines with you to be happy, kiyoomi, and you not buying ‘overpriced flowers’ won’t make me love you any less. i knew what i was getting myself into when i started dating you, i don’t want you to change and i genuinely don’t mind.”

his cheeks flushed, but he still sulked. “whatever, i’m taking you out next year.”

“or… we can stay in and order takeout? how’s that?”

“i’ll buy a stupid bouquet too.”

you grinned at his sleepily grumbles. “you can buy me a stupid bouquet then. you can even buy me stupid chocolates too, how’s that?”

“i will,” he mumbled determinedly, eyes finally shutting. “i love you so much, i’m sorry.”

“i love you and you have nothing to be sorry about, my love.” you promised, leaning to kiss his forehead. you only got a soft snore in response, your grin widening.

you truely couldn’t wish for a better valentines.

—

pouty sakusa supremacy :p anw valentine ended 22 minutes ago for me but yolo ! hope you enjoy this one :)

[urztrulymikauh]

what kind of full r we talking about here…

osamu god of aftercare miya who doesn’t know what leaving is. in gray sweats, shirtless, a ‘kiss the cook’ apron on while he’s making you breakfast the morning after? you don’t really want him to leave anyway.

butter, pancakes, and some secret third thing, pulls you from the haze of sleep before you even open your eyes. the sheets beside you are empty but still warm, proof that osamu hasn’t been up for long.

when you stir, stretching lazily, the first thing you see is him: standing by the stove in nothing but his sweatpants and an apron that hangs loose around his bare chest. he rolls his shoulders back, muscles bunching, the former act to perfectly flipping a sunnyside egg — yolk intact.

“you’re starin’,” he drawls, not looking away from the pan. who wouldn’t be? sleep is evident in his hair, apron dusted lightly with flour, and there’s a faint pink mark on his shoulder turning purple, one you don’t remember leaving but feel smug about anyway.

“you’re in my apartment, my kitchen, making me breakfast,” you manage to carry the tone through a mumble, “I think I’m allowed to look.”

he huffs out a laugh, setting a fresh pancake onto the growing stack on the counter. “fair enough.”

“planning on leaving anytime soon?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ear and drizzling syrup over your portion. he stares a moment, eyes soft and crinkling at the ends, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I ain’t leavin’ until you're full.”