[bouqette]

THE BOUQETTEZINE. 𝑏𝑦 𝐕𝐈’𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 ⠀✶ ⠀ℯ𝓈𝓉. ’𝟎𝟓

꒰𓏼 ◞ ◟ 𓏼 ྀི 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐔. she/her. nineteen. sleep deprived stem girlie. sfw multifandom writing blog ++ contains suggestive content. remember to drink your water! ♡

─── NAVI ⟡ rules masterlist tags recs

─── RECENT ⟡ jacket (sakusa) ⊹ jock!vi

[bouqette]

who is your har favorite omg

ROBIN MY SWEETHEARTTT 🥹🥹🥹 i’m in the middle of penacony so i haven’t met a lot of characters yet but i agree with jing yuan HIS VOICEE 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

[bouqette]

just realised your theme is happy yuri and mine is doomed yuri

gotta have something positive for the girl kissers </3

[bouqette]

what if i wrote for hsr...

[bouqette]

sakusa took off his jacket, draping it over your sleeping figure wordlessly. 

his hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment, hesitant, but warm. you stirred at the light contact, blinking slowly to adjust to the glaring overhead lights.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body, the faint trace of his familiar scent—a mix of fresh laundry and a hint of mint—settled comfortably around you.

you tilted your head towards the wavy haired boy, but his dark eyes flicked away the second yours met them. 

you let out a quiet laugh. “is something wrong?”

“no.” sakusa’s response was short, and he turned away just as quickly—but not before you caught the way his throat bobbed nervously. “i thought you might be cold.” he added quietly.

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, hands tightening on the edges of his jacket. 

“thanks, omi.” 

sakusa gave you a brief nod in acknowledgement, though his eyes still refused to meet yours.

you leaned forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, but the movement caused one side of his jacket to slip off your shoulder. maybe it was his reflexes, or simply because he was hyperaware of your presence—either way, he reacted quicker than you could blink, tugging the fabric back over your frame before zipping up his jacket around you.

you blinked in surprise, fiddling with the zipper that was now resting below your chin.

“thanks.” you whispered again, looking up at him with such softness in your eyes that he thought his heart might have stopped altogether.

nothing could stop the from heat rising to his cheeks, his hand hovering mid-air, unsure of what to do. sakusa always prided himself in his ability to keep his composure, but with you?

you were always his exception.

you were the only one who could make his mind short-circuit with just a smile, the only one who could make a warmth surge through his chest whenever he spots you, the only one he looks for in the sea of people after a match.

and now, here he was, with his hand clenched by his sides, trying his hardest to calm the wild beating of his heart.

“omi?” you blinked slowly at him, brows furrowing together as you tried to stop your eyelids from drooping.

“don’t fall asleep yet.” he managed to say, voice gruff, “your stop is next.”

“oh, right…” you trailed off, taking a few more seconds than usual to comprehend his statement. “then,” you muttered quietly under your breath, removing his warm jacket and exposing yourself to the cool air of the bus. with your best attempt at folding it neatly, you handed it back to him. 

“thanks for the jacket, omi.” you smiled.

“keep it.”

the words hung between you. silence stretched, sharp and heavy.

“huh?” you looked at him in bewilderment. 

“your—” he cleared his throat, “your germs are all over it.” 

a pause. then a laugh bubbled up in your chest. “i have far less germs that you,” you retorted with a smile, scrunching up your nose, “you’re all sweaty from practice.”

for a second, he just stared at you—long enough that your smile wavered, long enough that you wondered if he was going to cross the line. then his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction.

“it’s still cold out.” sakusa whispered, his voice softer than usual. “keep it.”

and who were you to say no when the sakusa kiyoomi offered you his jacket? 

when the bus slowly rolled to a stop, you hopped off with his jacket folded neatly in your arms and a promise that you would return it freshly washed and cleaned.

but when you handed him his jacket the next day, he refused to take it back. 

he didn’t give you a reason, though you spotted the smile on his face when he thought you weren’t looking—the kind that made his eyes soften with emotions he struggled to express with words. and that was more than enough for you to graciously accept this gift.

it started with his jacket, then his jersey.

until his last name was yours, too.

[bouqette]

sakusa took off his jacket, draping it over your sleeping figure wordlessly. 

his hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment, hesitant, but warm. you stirred at the light contact, blinking slowly to adjust to the glaring overhead lights.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body, the faint trace of his familiar scent—a mix of fresh laundry and a hint of mint—settled comfortably around you.

you tilted your head towards the wavy haired boy, but his dark eyes flicked away the second yours met them. 

you let out a quiet laugh. “is something wrong?”

“no.” sakusa’s response was short, and he turned away just as quickly—but not before you caught the way his throat bobbed nervously. “i thought you might be cold.” he added quietly.

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, hands tightening on the edges of his jacket. 

“thanks, omi.” 

sakusa gave you a brief nod in acknowledgement, though his eyes still refused to meet yours.

you leaned forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, but the movement caused one side of his jacket to slip off your shoulder. maybe it was his reflexes, or simply because he was hyperaware of your presence—either way, he reacted quicker than you could blink, tugging the fabric back over your frame before zipping up his jacket around you.

you blinked in surprise, fiddling with the zipper that was now resting below your chin.

“thanks.” you whispered again, looking up at him with such softness in your eyes that he thought his heart might have stopped altogether.

nothing could stop the from heat rising to his cheeks, his hand hovering mid-air, unsure of what to do. sakusa always prided himself in his ability to keep his composure, but with you?

you were always his exception.

you were the only one who could make his mind short-circuit with just a smile, the only one who could make a warmth surge through his chest whenever he spots you, the only one he looks for in the sea of people after a match.

and now, here he was, with his hand clenched by his sides, trying his hardest to calm the wild beating of his heart.

“omi?” you blinked slowly at him, brows furrowing together as you tried to stop your eyelids from drooping.

“don’t fall asleep yet.” he managed to say, voice gruff, “your stop is next.”

“oh, right…” you trailed off, taking a few more seconds than usual to comprehend his statement. “then,” you muttered quietly under your breath, removing his warm jacket and exposing yourself to the cool air of the bus. with your best attempt at folding it neatly, you handed it back to him. 

“thanks for the jacket, omi.” you smiled.

“keep it.”

the words hung between you. silence stretched, sharp and heavy.

“huh?” you looked at him in bewilderment. 

“your—” he cleared his throat, “your germs are all over it.” 

a pause. then a laugh bubbled up in your chest. “i have far less germs that you,” you retorted with a smile, scrunching up your nose, “you’re all sweaty from practice.”

for a second, he just stared at you—long enough that your smile wavered, long enough that you wondered if he was going to cross the line. then his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction.

“it’s still cold out.” sakusa whispered, his voice softer than usual. “keep it.”

and who were you to say no when the sakusa kiyoomi offered you his jacket? 

when the bus slowly rolled to a stop, you hopped off with his jacket folded neatly in your arms and a promise that you would return it freshly washed and cleaned.

but when you handed him his jacket the next day, he refused to take it back. 

he didn’t give you a reason, though you spotted the smile on his face when he thought you weren’t looking—the kind that made his eyes soften with emotions he struggled to express with words. and that was more than enough for you to graciously accept this gift.

it started with his jacket, then his jersey.

until his last name was yours, too.

[bouqette]

sakusa took off his jacket, draping it over your sleeping figure wordlessly. 

his hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment, hesitant, but warm. you stirred at the light contact, blinking slowly to adjust to the glaring overhead lights.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body, the faint trace of his familiar scent—a mix of fresh laundry and a hint of mint—settled comfortably around you.

you tilted your head towards the wavy haired boy, but his dark eyes flicked away the second yours met them. 

you let out a quiet laugh. “is something wrong?”

“no.” sakusa’s response was short, and he turned away just as quickly—but not before you caught the way his throat bobbed nervously. “i thought you might be cold.” he added quietly.

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, hands tightening on the edges of his jacket. 

“thanks, omi.” 

sakusa gave you a brief nod in acknowledgement, though his eyes still refused to meet yours.

you leaned forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, but the movement caused one side of his jacket to slip off your shoulder. maybe it was his reflexes, or simply because he was hyperaware of your presence—either way, he reacted quicker than you could blink, tugging the fabric back over your frame before zipping up his jacket around you.

you blinked in surprise, fiddling with the zipper that was now resting below your chin.

“thanks.” you whispered again, looking up at him with such softness in your eyes that he thought his heart might have stopped altogether.

nothing could stop the from heat rising to his cheeks, his hand hovering mid-air, unsure of what to do. sakusa always prided himself in his ability to keep his composure, but with you?

you were always his exception.

you were the only one who could make his mind short-circuit with just a smile, the only one who could make a warmth surge through his chest whenever he spots you, the only one he looks for in the sea of people after a match.

and now, here he was, with his hand clenched by his sides, trying his hardest to calm the wild beating of his heart.

“omi?” you blinked slowly at him, brows furrowing together as you tried to stop your eyelids from drooping.

“don’t fall asleep yet.” he managed to say, voice gruff, “your stop is next.”

“oh, right…” you trailed off, taking a few more seconds than usual to comprehend his statement. “then,” you muttered quietly under your breath, removing his warm jacket and exposing yourself to the cool air of the bus. with your best attempt at folding it neatly, you handed it back to him. 

“thanks for the jacket, omi.” you smiled.

“keep it.”

the words hung between you. silence stretched, sharp and heavy.

“huh?” you looked at him in bewilderment. 

“your—” he cleared his throat, “your germs are all over it.” 

a pause. then a laugh bubbled up in your chest. “i have far less germs that you,” you retorted with a smile, scrunching up your nose, “you’re all sweaty from practice.”

for a second, he just stared at you—long enough that your smile wavered, long enough that you wondered if he was going to cross the line. then his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction.

“it’s still cold out.” sakusa whispered, his voice softer than usual. “keep it.”

and who were you to say no when the sakusa kiyoomi offered you his jacket? 

when the bus slowly rolled to a stop, you hopped off with his jacket folded neatly in your arms and a promise that you would return it freshly washed and cleaned.

but when you handed him his jacket the next day, he refused to take it back. 

he didn’t give you a reason, though you spotted the smile on his face when he thought you weren’t looking—the kind that made his eyes soften with emotions he struggled to express with words. and that was more than enough for you to graciously accept this gift.

it started with his jacket, then his jersey.

until his last name was yours, too.

[bouqette]

MISU THE GREEN YURI THEME IS GOATED DI D wait yeah i already showed u ghow i saw the carboard cutout irl

THANK YOU SM QUEEN MADDIE yes i saw the cardboard cutout i love them so much

[bouqette]

sakusa took off his jacket, draping it over your sleeping figure wordlessly. 

his hand lingered on your shoulder for a moment, hesitant, but warm. you stirred at the light contact, blinking slowly to adjust to the glaring overhead lights.

you pulled his jacket closer to your body, the faint trace of his familiar scent—a mix of fresh laundry and a hint of mint—settled comfortably around you.

you tilted your head towards the wavy haired boy, but his dark eyes flicked away the second yours met them. 

you let out a quiet laugh. “is something wrong?”

“no.” sakusa’s response was short, and he turned away just as quickly—but not before you caught the way his throat bobbed nervously. “i thought you might be cold.” he added quietly.

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, hands tightening on the edges of his jacket. 

“thanks, omi.” 

sakusa gave you a brief nod in acknowledgement, though his eyes still refused to meet yours.

you leaned forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face, but the movement caused one side of his jacket to slip off your shoulder. maybe it was his reflexes, or simply because he was hyperaware of your presence—either way, he reacted quicker than you could blink, tugging the fabric back over your frame before zipping up his jacket around you.

you blinked in surprise, fiddling with the zipper that was now resting below your chin.

“thanks.” you whispered again, looking up at him with such softness in your eyes that he thought his heart might have stopped altogether.

nothing could stop the from heat rising to his cheeks, his hand hovering mid-air, unsure of what to do. sakusa always prided himself in his ability to keep his composure, but with you?

you were always his exception.

you were the only one who could make his mind short-circuit with just a smile, the only one who could make a warmth surge through his chest whenever he spots you, the only one he looks for in the sea of people after a match.

and now, here he was, with his hand clenched by his sides, trying his hardest to calm the wild beating of his heart.

“omi?” you blinked slowly at him, brows furrowing together as you tried to stop your eyelids from drooping.

“don’t fall asleep yet.” he managed to say, voice gruff, “your stop is next.”

“oh, right…” you trailed off, taking a few more seconds than usual to comprehend his statement. “then,” you muttered quietly under your breath, removing his warm jacket and exposing yourself to the cool air of the bus. with your best attempt at folding it neatly, you handed it back to him. 

“thanks for the jacket, omi.” you smiled.

“keep it.”

the words hung between you. silence stretched, sharp and heavy.

“huh?” you looked at him in bewilderment. 

“your—” he cleared his throat, “your germs are all over it.” 

a pause. then a laugh bubbled up in your chest. “i have far less germs that you,” you retorted with a smile, scrunching up your nose, “you’re all sweaty from practice.”

for a second, he just stared at you—long enough that your smile wavered, long enough that you wondered if he was going to cross the line. then his shoulders relaxed, just a fraction.

“it’s still cold out.” sakusa whispered, his voice softer than usual. “keep it.”

and who were you to say no when the sakusa kiyoomi offered you his jacket? 

when the bus slowly rolled to a stop, you hopped off with his jacket folded neatly in your arms and a promise that you would return it freshly washed and cleaned.

but when you handed him his jacket the next day, he refused to take it back. 

he didn’t give you a reason, though you spotted the smile on his face when he thought you weren’t looking—the kind that made his eyes soften with emotions he struggled to express with words. and that was more than enough for you to graciously accept this gift.

it started with his jacket, then his jersey.

until his last name was yours, too.

[lesviankisser]

the snakebites ooooo i’m dizzy... i’m so dizzy.......

[bouqette]

sakusa fic tmr 😼

[bouqette]

hiii <3 i think ur so cool n talented + WE'RE NAME TWINS!! misu + jisu 🫶🫶

thank you sm name twin ☹️☹️ your account is so so cute

[bouqette]

MUFFINS ﹑ kiyoko

in which──you have a crush on your math tutor, kiyoko.

kiyoko x gn! reader ✶ fluff, mutual pining 1.4k ୨୧ written for the lovely @ottocre ! my first time writing for kiyoko, hope i did her justice > <

“you know this.” kiyoko murmured. her voice was quiet and steady, carrying a low timbre that made your stomach flutter. 

you bit your lip, fiddling with the edges of your notebook. 

you do know the answer to this question—or you would have, if you could focus on anything but the way her knee nudged against the side of your thigh, soft locks slipping past her shoulder when she leaned across the table, watching you intently. 

it started off with something small. 

her hand brushing against yours when she handed you a pen, eyes lingering on you for just a moment too long. you told yourself it was nothing more than wishful thinking, your brain forcing meaning into something when there was none. 

but then she began to lean in every time you asked her a question, closer and closer. until she got so close that you had to remind yourself to breathe, to ignore the way her warm breath skimmed past your cheeks. 

but the worst of it all was when she fell silent to let you work, because the weight of her gaze alone was a hundred times louder than the nervous drumming of your heart.    

even now, when she finally decided to settle back against her chair, the faint trail of her perfume clung stubbornly in the air.

“do you need a break?” 

your eyes flicked up to kiyoko, who gave you a smile. there wasn’t anything special about her smile, not this time. it was the same courteous one she always wears. still, it was enough to make your heart stutter.

“yeah.” you breathed out, not trusting yourself to form a coherent sentence.

kiyoko closed her notebook with a quiet thud, before pulling out a small brown paper bag from her tote. you recognised the logo printed on it immediately—your favourite bakery. 

“here.” kiyoko handed you the bag, “it’s a muffin.” 

you stared at the bag dumbly, then back up at her. 

“i heard you like muffins.” kiyoko added quickly, clearing her throat. if your mind wasn’t so muddled up by her mere presence, you might have noticed the pink that began to spread across her cheeks.

“did you…” your voice faltered. 

the logical part of your brain told you to stop. because there was no way kiyoko went out of her way to go to your favourite bakery—they were notorious for selling out the first thing in the morning, and that would mean she lined up before the bakery had even opened just to buy this muffin. 

“eat it before it gets cold.” kiyoko said, voice softer than usual. and when she noticed you still staring at her, she broke away, finger idly tracing patterns on the cover of her textbook.

“thank you. really.” you whispered, words rolling off your tongue, slow with sincerity.  

kiyoko sent you a quick side glance, nervous, almost. but then she smiled, one of the rare ones that made her eyes curve into crescent moons.

“i’ll bring you another one next time.”

and she kept her promise.

every time you showed up to a tutoring session, she’d be waiting with the same brown paper bag, offering it to you like it was part of a normal routine. and soon, it did become one. you even started to locate where she was sitting in the library from just the smell of the muffin alone. 

on the days you craved a treat, your legs would work with a mind of their own, dragging your body all the way to the sports hall, discretely passing by the steel doors a few times in hopes of catching a glimpse of kiyoko.

sometimes, she’d notice you, and you liked to believe that the light sparkling in her eyes was because of you, and not the sunlight peeking through the windows. 

you thought your feelings would simmer down with time, but you couldn’t be more wrong. with each week that passed, her ministrations inked its place like a tattoo in your mind. small touches, affectionate smiles, lingering gazes. held together by a frayed string, about to snap.

and it did, the week before your exam.

kiyoko was late. 

she was never late. 

you suggested meeting at a nearby cafe instead, hoping to buy her a coffee to thank her for all her help, and for the muffins, of course. but now you were left staring at your phone in worry.

rain pattered against the windows harshly, wind blowing so violently that it drowned out the jazz music playing in the background. 

you were just about to call her when the door slammed open.

kiyoko rushed in, breathless. her usual styled hair fell flat against her head, dripping with rainwater. she spotted you quickly, boots squelching against the tiled floor as she made her way over to you.

“sorry.” she said before you could even speak, her voice airy from exertion. “the bakery was sold out. i had to go to another one.”

you stared at her, mouth agape, “you went to another bakery? in the rain? without an umbrella?”

kiyoko hesitated, wiping off the droplets of water clinging to her glasses. she hastily gathered her hair at the back of her head, tying it up into a loose bun.

“sorry. i must look like a mess.”

you wanted to laugh, because kiyoko looked nothing short of stunning. in fact, she looked like a model who had just finished a professional photoshoot in the rain, and if it wasn’t for the worry gnawing away at your heart, your knees would have buckled from just the sight of her alone. 

“you don’t.” you replied, voice thick with the emotions that coiled in your throat, “not at all.” 

kiyoko fell silent for a moment, before slowly taking out a crumpled brown paper bag with a logo you had gotten so used to seeing. 

“kiyoko—” 

your voice cut off when a violent shudder ran through her body, making you shoot up from your seat, faster than light. 

you grabbed your jacket and draped it over her shoulders, feeling her body tremble against your own, “you shouldn’t have,” your chest tightened with guilt, “you’ll catch a cold, you really didn’t need to—”

“your smile.” she interrupted, pressing the paper bag into your arms. there was a firm, unyielding tone to her voice. one that meant she was being stubborn, painfully so. “your face lights up. every time.” 

you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or smile. maybe both.

“please don’t do this again.” your voice cracked a little, but the corners of your lips surrendered into a faint smile. “i don’t care that much about a muffin.” 

“i know it was reckless. but…” kiyoko averted her gaze, pulling your jacket tighter around herself. “i don’t know what came over me. i suppose i didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

your brows furrowed, mouth dry with emotions that threatened to boil over. you wanted nothing more than to pull her into a your arms—and so you did. you hugged her with such an intensity that it surprised the both of you. but you didn’t let go, and neither did she. 

“you’re stupid.” you mumbled against her skin. she was cold and damp from the rain, but you couldn’t care less.

“i know.” kiyoko whispered, her arms finding their place around your waist. “i should have just asked you out sooner.”

you froze at her words, jerking away from her hold, eyes wide as saucers. kiyoko’s hands tightened slightly on your waist, as if she was afraid you’d run away.

“i…” she stammered, “i didn’t mean to…”

but her hesitation faded immediately when she noticed the disappointment in your face. it took her a few seconds to understand, but when she did, she took in a sharp breath in realisation.

“can i take you on a date?” kiyoko asked softly. her voice was still an airy whisper, but this time, it carried a hint of hope. maybe you were clouded by the joy soaring through your heart, but you thought she never looked more beautiful. even after running through the pouring rain, beads of water clung to her lashes like stars in the night sky, skin dewy and glowing from the rain. 

a smile spread across your face, giddy and wide. “yes,” the words spilled from your lips like a flood breaking through a dam. “yes i will.”

“even without the muffins?”

“even without the muffins.” you echoed, earning a bubbly laugh from her. the sound was so sweet and lovely that you’d trade all the muffins in the world just to hear it once more. 

[opulace]

── LAZY SUNDAY MORNING 黒尾 鉄朗 kuroo tetsuro

contains: fem!reader, post-timeskip!kuroo, fluff, established relationship, domestic bliss, pet names (baby)

word count: 1.1k

as part of the hq! summer fic exchange — for miss misu @bouqette ♡

the other side of your bed is surprisingly empty.

while that's not uncommon for kuroo who often has to get up early for his nine to five, it is strange for a weekend.

he still keeps up with his regular morning fitness regime, not truly being able to drop the well oiled routine he's cultivated even after stepping down as captain of the volleyball team in high school. it's ingrained in him after all this time, though he's a lot more lenient with himself since then. he's still firm, just a tad softer, and you love it all the same.

but that's saturday's business.

it's sunday morning, the mutually understood and agreed let's not care about breakfast and rot in bed until lunch pocket of time that you've carved out in your personal schedules no matter the circumstances.

and he's missing.

sunlight's tricking in through the smallest gap between the curtains and you groan, rolling over to blindly pat around the bedside table and check the time on your phone, the glare temporarily flashing you and you squint, not quite ready to face the day just yet.

8:34AM. it's still way too early.

the sheets on the side where he lays is still warm, he probably hasn't been up for too long, you muse as you gently rub your eyes and reluctantly pull yourself up, slipping on the first t-shirt on top of the messed up pile of clothes at the foot of the bed. it sits wide on your shoulders, one side slipping off and the hem grazing your upper thighs.

smells like kuroo, smells like home.

you pad quietly towards the sound of a sizzling pan and soft humming, a song playing quietly around the open kitchen with lyrics that ring a bell but your barely conscious mind can't put two and two together. it's a sight to behold, so peaceful and quaint, you wish you could take a picture but alas, your phone remains charging on your bedside table.

warmed by the golden rays of saccharine sun shining against his bare broad back, kuroo's almost glowing, a few small moles and marks littering his back like a sea of constellations in a clear night sky and you can't help but be drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

goosebumps rise on his skin when he feels you loosely wrap your arms around his waist, tensing up in surprise for a second before registering the softness of hands that can only belong to you, relaxing as your thumbs find purchase on the waistband of his shorts.

"mmm, good morning." you mumble against his skin, apologetically pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade for unintentionally scaring him as you relish in the heat radiating off him from the inside out. "you're up early."

he hums, free hand pushing the wild strands of his jet black hair in all of it's early morning mess back before placing it above your own, finding yours like its instinct, second nature. "wanted to make you something."

"what's the occasion?"

"what, can't spoil my girl with breakfast in bed?" he glances back now with a cheeky grin, and you return a sweet smile, eyes trailing across his features, extra boyish and youthfully fresh out of slumber. you take a deep inhale, chest pressing against his back as you take in the aroma of a wonderful home cooked meal and his natural scent mixed with what seems like your body wash. soap thief. "speaking of, why aren't you still in bed?"

you murmur with droopy eyes and the smallest pout you don't even know you're making, and kuroo has half the mind to kiss it off your face, "you weren't there..."

"aren't you a clingy little baby hmm?"

he chuckles fondly when he feels your soft hum vibrate against his back, not even trying to deny his statement. you always did love hanging off him like koala. with his stature and physique, how can you not?

his hand gently squeezes yours, "i'm almost done here, do you want to get you and your cute butt back into bed?"

you nod and make a sound of agreement but put in no effort to leave, instead tightening your hold on his waist, finding solace in the subtle yet steady rise and fall of his torso with every breath he takes. it's a comforting feeling, a motion almost like the rocking of a chair, rhythmic and constant, and you're sure that any longer of it will begin to lull you back into the gentle, irresistible embrace of drowsiness.

he sighs dramatically, borderline whining, and you just know he'd be clutching his chest if his hands weren't busy with the food and toying with your own, "you're so stinking cute it's unfair..."

it easily falls into a dreamy, comfortable silence aside from the occasional clang of utensils and clinks of ceramic, the flame of the stove turning down slowly until it fizzles out and completely disappears. you take turns spooning food into each other's mouths and exchanging kisses in between, surrendering to the moment of respite with eyes barely open. you swing your legs back and forth while perched on the counter, the surface cool against your skin as kuroo remains close, never straying too far as he stands between your thighs nursing his first coffee of the day with a hand absentmindedly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ears.

this little compact kitchen's enveloped in a special flavour of comfort, never quite filled but always full, of mutual love and shared aspirations, whispered promises and bellowing laughter.

many nights have been spent with hands clasped over the clean marbled island after long days, and countless mornings of what seems like rush hour in your own home with the both of you scrambling to have a cup of anything caffeine and small bites before inevitably having to run off to your commitments.

from carelessly dancing barefoot with the backdrop of the refrigerator light to giggling with scrunched noses and scrubbing the life out of a pan charred from burnt food, it happens more often than you think when distractions are abundant with someone like kuroo, countless of little instances and silly happenings have carved it's mark into the nooks and crannies of this space.

time has come and gone, seasons changing as with the stages of your life but this? simple moments like this will never fade, a small but unwavering fire burning in the many walls of your home and hearts, tucked away with a lock and the matching key that's been disposed of a long time ago, long before exchanged vows and three words spelled out by eight letters.

and you wouldn't have it any other way.

a/n: started writing this like a month ago jeez, then shit hit the fan and now i'm here / title is also one of my favourite perfume scents ;3

masterlist

taglist: open (link to form) @romybites @ottocre @mayyhaps

© opulace. please do not repost, plagiarise, translate, or feed my work to ai.

[bouqette]

having misu withdrawals

romy hi lovely how are you ☹️

[bouqette]

OHHHH MY LANTA TGIWIWAGAA THEME IM GONNA FUCKING SCREAM I LOVE UR THEME SO BAD

THANK UU !!!! YURI ON TOPPPP

[bouqette]

ur not overthinking misu my line of thought is just: if he’s willing to tolerate that how will he feel about other ‘wrong’ things?? cheating??? lying???? etc etc etc STAY SAFE

you are so right 😞 the way he brushed it off so casually too .. the more i learn about his friends the more appalled i am