— *:･ﾟ✧ do you want the house tour? I could take you to the first, second, third floor. and I promise none of this is a metaphor. I just want you to come inside. baby what's mine is now yours.
about me. above 20. she/her. haikyuu. bluelock. horimiya. the ice guy and his cool colleague. genshin impact. honkai star rail. tears of themis. love and deepspace. wuthering waves. sleeping. cats. vtubers. night owl. comfy. music. soft mornings. fruit tea. sweets. building blocks. warmth.
shii i feel so weird doing this but hi meri!! you prolly dont remember but im nic (nicola) and i used to run jaemintcookies before i fell out of kpop. its been like 5 years but i wanted you to kno that i still think abt those cute love notes you would send and do on your old blogs and how they helped me get thru my college days all those years ago and how they’ve shaped the way i view making people feel seen in my own relationships (went from heartbroken college hoe to fiancée 😛). i suddenly remembered how fun shit used to be and i thought i’d try and find you to lyk cuz sometimes you never kno how much you’ve impacted someones life. i really hope you’re doing well, staying healthy, and living it up like i am! i wish you the best in the future babydoll 🫶💕
omg hi yes i do remember jaemintcookies!! i’m so glad the love notes helped you thru college and congratulations to ur engagement SQUEALINGGGG!!!! god i’ve been reading this for more than three times and i’m still speechless. i never thought of having this kind of impact in someone’s life🥹 and i’m doing well!! will be graduating soon🙇🏻♀️ i wish you all the best in life, nicola🤍 mwah mwah
i don’t know if i will be able to do more before Valentine’s Day, but i wanted to drop this at least. :> it’s a smol extension of my animated lines series, but in hearts ! ( I may or may not have stared at this in dark mode for a long time HAHAH )
adding a tw for eyestrain because of the colours, but I hope you enjoy 🤍
as the moonlight casts across the room through the slightly opened curtains. your right hand stretching to your side, only for an empty yet warm feeling left by your husband greets you. slowly blinking your eyes open, your gaze roamed around the room to look for his presence, only to see no one. with little to no energy left in your body, you slowly walked to his office as you rub sleep out of your eyes with a blanked wrapped around you.
you reached his office, his door slightly opened. you peek inside and saw him on his desk—papers around his space, in assumption of reading his patient’s medical records. oh the reliable doctor he is. a doctor takes care of their patients, but who takes care of the doctor? luckily for zayne, he have you—his dear wife.
with a soft knock on the door, you slipped in the room and approach him. “you should be in bed, dear”, you started. “i’m almost done, wife. one paper left”, he assured you.
“do you mind some company as you finish or do you rather be alone?”. his arm slid around your hips, pulling you closer, making you sit on his lap. “stay with me”.
zayne affectionately kisses you, his arm pulling you more closer even if there’s no more space in between. “i’ll just skim through this report, then we’ll to back to bed”.
your hand cupped his hand that’s holding the paper, forehead touching his temple. “you work too hard, it’s your day-off tomorrow”, you reminded him. “more reason for me to skim through these, at least, i won’t be distracted for the day. i want to spend it with you”, he fondly responded. as you feel his lips leaving more kisses on your shoulder, you let him do his thing. the warmth of his body and the coldness of the room made you drowsy. leaning more against him as sleep comes back to you. zayne felt the your head dropping on his, he was quick to catch you with his other hand. he set aside his paper as he moved you for your comfort before carrying you to the bedroom.
zayne gently sets you down on your side of the bed, pulling up the duvet under your chin. he then went to his side, wrapping his arm around you while the other supports your head. with you chest to chest with him, your cheek on his heck, his hand caressing your back—luring you deep in dreamland.
a/n: am not a caleb girly but i can’t forget his expressions in his bday card aaaaa glad i pulled for it
you’re sitting on the sofa while caleb’s on the floor in front of you. one of your legs are over his shoulder while the other is at your side. his hand caresses your leg, leaving kisses here and there. his touch gives shivers down your spine as he continues to dote on you.
you find your hand messing with his soft, fluffy hair, when you thought of an idea. with an excited “wait a moment”, you walked towards the bedroom with a couple of strides—to your vanity and grabbed any hair clips you could find. then immediately went back to the soda, in the same position you were in.
while caleb’s a bit distracted from watching television, you began to put hair clips on him. caleb heard you humming to yourself as he lets you do your thing, making him smile—pressing a quick kiss on your thigh, and to your surprise, he softly nip on it.
you playfully pinch his left cheek in response of payback. satisfied with your self, you sang, “tadaaaa” with a tiny jazz hands. his left hand grabbed yours, kissing your knuckles as he laughed. “did you put hair clips on me, pipsqueak?”.
“hmm, maybe”, you giggled.
he turned around from his position on the floor, now facing you and rests his head on your thigh. “do i look good?”
“you looook adorable! my big puppy”, your hands reaching out to cup his face, making his lips pout. you showered him in kisses, mainly focusing on his puckered lips.
“your big puppy?”, he asks. his eyes filled with adoration for you, sparking in happiness that you’re in his arms.
a/n: wrote this on a whim sooo if you see any errors, no you didn’t :p
as you entered the room after taking a good shower, you saw rafayel in front of his canvas, doing some finishing touches touch on his piece. he looks beautiful under the sunset, the rays reflecting on his frame. majestic, even.
still in your bathrobe, you thought of making him your own canvas. you went to your vanity and picked the most vibrant color of lipstick you could find in your collection. with a coy smile on your lips, you went towards him, “hey, cutie”.
you giggled. as if sensing your mischief, he placed his palette and brush down on the table. turning to face you, with you in between his legs, his arms naturally wrapping around you. “what are you planning, hm?”.
“nothinggg”
he begins to leave a trail of kisses on your neck and shoulders. smelling your scent as he kisses you. “you should’ve dry your hair first, cutie. you might get sick”
you moved back a bit from his embrace, looking in his eyes. rafayel lifts a brow seeing that look on your face, silently asking, “could you close your eyes for me? please”.
he kissed your cheek before closing his eyes, abiding to your request. you swiftly apply the lipstick and started leaving kiss marks starting on his forehead, cheeks, nose, side of the lips, down to his neck.
“why are you avoiding my lips, cutie?”
“gotta save the best for last” you teased. he whined at your words, desperate on feeling your lips against his. you pulled away to see his state, satisfied with your work, you let out a hum before giving in to his wants
you press your lips against his, letting him take the lead. his arms hugging you closer, his other hand moving around your body. as if he can’t get enough. out of breath, he pulled away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his.
you giggled at his flushed appearance. his hair disheveled after running your hands through it, “should see yourself in the mirror”.
his head move to the side to peek at the mirror near him, he could clearly see the marks you left on his face and neck. his eyes darkened as he gaze back at you, “this is how you mark your territory, hm?”.
“how about i give you something…long lasting?”. you let out a shriek as he carry you in his arms, your legs around his waist. he then walked towards the bed, gently dropping you on. he followed with his right arm beside your head, his other hand moving towards your thigh, lifting it to his side.
the kitchen is completely dark and freezing at four in the morning. you’re sitting flat on the cold counter, bare feet dangling in the air. you’re wearing sylus’s giant grey sweater, the one he wears often. the sleeves are long enough to cover your palms. you’re too tired to speak and stare blankly into the dark room. you hear heavy steps in the tile.
sylus walks over. he’s in a silk night shirt, sleep evident on his face. he stops right between your thighs, crowding your space completely. he does not say a word. he just reaches out and wraps his hand around your bare ankle, his touch instantly melting the chill on your skin.
“can’t sleep?” he asks, voice a low rumble.
“my brain won’t shut up,” you whisper, voice small and tired.
sylus lets out a soft breathy sigh. he steps even closer, until his sides are pressed up against your knees. he reaches up and grabs you by the waist, his strong fingers effortlessly lifting you off the counter. you let out a tiny gasp, hands flying out to grip his broad shoulders.
instead of putting you on the floor, sylus just holds you up against him. your feet are completely off the ground. he wraps his massive arms around your back, burying his face into your neck. your heart does a sudden flip. you wrap your legs tightly around his waist to keep from falling.
“sylus,” you say, face flushed. “i didn’t say you could kidnap me off the counter.”
“you’re in my house, sweetie” he mutters against your skin, a smile evident. “everything here belongs to me.”
you smack his chest. he only hums. but sylus keeps holding you against him. he presses a slow and warm kiss under your ear. his soft silver hair tickles your jaw and his warmm breath makes a sweet shiver run down your spine.
and you do it. you relax completely, leaning your forehead against his temple, fingers tangling in his soft hair, melting against him. he’s so big, so solid, so incredibly warm and absolutely yours.
sylus lets out a low happy chuckle against your neck when he feels you give in. he shifts his head, nose brushing a slow, lazy path up your jawline until his lips are resting against the corner of your mouth. he holds you tighter, grip filled with affection and fondness.
“go back to sleep, sweetie” he whispers against your lips, voice cozy and thick with love. “i’ll carry you.”
warning: specific description of clothing/appearance
a/n: it was quite refreshing to write something more than 1k after a loooong time. everything feels rusty as i write but it felt good nonetheless! please do share your insights in the comments or my inbox. i would love to interact with you :3 thank you!
When Tendo introduced you to Ushijima, you immediately knew you already fell for the stoic professional volleyball player. And to Tendo’s surprise, Ushijima asked for your number and socials himself. From all the years of knowing his friend, Ushijima rarely takes interest in others, it's as if he’s married to volleyball. Consistently rejecting other people’s advances towards him, not even batting an eye on them when they speak. Well, attempt to speak.
Your relationship with Ushijima is literally the definition of a cold boyfriend and energetic girlfriend. But that’s just how the media sees it. Behind closed doors, Ushijima is clingy, soft-spoken, beck and call for your needs–the type to worship the ground you walk on, and he will. The energetic girlfriend that the media knows dies down in the absence of cameras. It is still there, just calm and gentle in the presence of your man.
Speaking of your man, he is currently clasping a necklace around your neck, as you finish your makeup. His hands caresses down from your neck to shoulder, giving you a soft squeeze as he presses a kiss on your nape. Schweiden Adlers was invited to a formal dinner alongside with the other professional teams, and were told they are allowed to bring a plus one. Ushijima did not waste time in choosing a dress for you. He only wants the best and hopes to bring a smile to your face that he oh so loves.
His gaze lowered down to your body he regularly worships; an off-shoulder black cocktail dress that captivatingly hugs your form, your shoulders glistening from the glitters you applied earlier. You styled your hair in a messy bun to focus on the necklace that is perfectly resting on your collarbones. It takes a lot of self-control for him to ravish you against your vanity.
“Are you ready, my dear?”, he clears his throat as he rests his cheek against your temple, gazing at you in the mirror. “I am, love. I just need to put my heels on, and we’re ready to go”.
“Your heels are by the stairs, as well as your purse”, Ushijima informs you. You leaned and pressed a kiss on his cheek, leaving a glossy shine from your lip gloss, “Thank you, my love”.
The drive to the dinner felt like Ushijima testing on how long you’ll be able to last. All throughout the ride, he has his free hand on your thigh, occasionally squishing whenever he feels like doing so. You noticed his hand slowly moving up towards your inner thigh, but you decided to hold onto your self-control. Because once Ushijima starts, you might as well skip dinner.
Soon enough, you both arrived at the restaurant. Unconsciously, you let out a sigh of relief, making Ushijima smirk to himself. He parked at a secluded part in the area, and went out first after turning the engine off. He opened the door for you, his hand reflexively reaching out for you to hold. You held his hand as you moved out of the car, your free hand fixing your dress. Ushijima handed out your purse, he actually grabbed it as he exited the car. You tapped his abdomen as thanks, then fixed his tie for him.
As you both enter the restaurant, people are quick on their feet, as if fixing themselves in the presence of royalty. Well to them, you are royalty. People respect you as they respect Ushijima, not because you’re his girlfriend. But you made your own reputation in the circle, enough to earn the well deserved respect.
It is no secret that despite having your relationship public, and private, with a notable volleyball player there is. Unfortunately, there are people who still can’t control themselves. Who continues to stay close to your personal space.
You were conversing with Kageyama and Hoshiumi when a random guy, who you refused to learn the name of, introduces himself. You figured he’s here as a plus one of a player you may or may not be familiar with. But either way, you’re not interested in entertaining him. On top of that, Hoshiumi was exchanging some gossip he heard around during tournaments. And you were really invested until the interruption. You shared a look with your friends as the guy started talking about himself. Out of respect, you let out a few reactions to his words. But really, really, you rather talk with the people you’re familiar with or go find your boyfriend.
“Uhm so, would you do this man the honor of giving him your number?”. That caught your attention. As well as your two friends who are now fighting themselves to not react, as you once told them, their facial reactions have subtitles.
“Sorry but no. That won’t be ideal.”, you responded with a polite smile. Unlucky for you, this man is persistent. “I won’t let this chance go to waste in getting to know a lady like you”, he tried to touch your forearm but you were quick to avoid his hand.
Hoshiumi was about to stand in front of you when Ushijima arrived. You couldn’t help but laugh seeing the relief on your friend’s faces. “Hi there, my love”, you greeted your man. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on your temple, his right hand reaching towards your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze.
Ushijima’s soft gaze that is only reserved for you changes as he takes a look at the guy, “How I’m glad to see you, Wakatoshi. I was asking this lady’s-”.
“She’s with me”. Ushijima interrupted him. The guy was about to respond when Hoshiumi stepped in front of you, “Didn’t you hear him? She’s with him! Now move, go away!”. As Hoshiumi continued to chase the guy away, you felt Kageyama closer to your side, “You okay?”, he mumbled. You nodded in response and whispered thanks to him. Amidst all the small chaos, you failed to see Ushijima’s displeasure at the guy’s persistence. He felt annoyed, he thinks. He’s stuck in his own thoughts to notice his own hand tightening on your waist.
Time moves in a flash, you find yourself walking back to the car, Ushijima’s coat covers most of your form with its owner following you behind. In his nature, he opened the door for you before walking to his seat. As he settled himself in, he muttered, “I didn’t like how that guy was looking at you”.
“He even tried to touch you, I didn’t like it”.
“Are you jealous, Toshi?”, you asked.
“Jealous?”
You let out a teasing smile, “I think you are, my love. You’re gripping the wheel so tight”.
As if waking up from a trance, he loosen his grasp. “You’re too irresistible…that dress”. You leaned towards him, “What about the dress, my love? You know, jealousy looks good on you. I’ve never seen you this bothered”.
His gaze travels down from your eyes to your lips. His hand went to your face, his thumb caressing your lips–pressing down your bottom lip. Ushijima tilted his head as he kissed your lips, you felt his tongue invading your mouth, rubbing against yours. You let out moans as his hand holds your neck, his lips kissing your cheek down to your neck. Kiss, lick, suck, kiss, lick suck. Repeat. His lips travelled back to yours, sucking your tongue and biting your bottom lip, “I can’t wait any longer”.
the little girl raises her arms towards her father, who was reading through the newspaper with a classical tune playing in the background.
sylus, as forever as willing to do anything her daughter wants, picks her up in his warm embrace—carried her with one arm, while his free hand held his daughter’s.
this is one of the few moments when his wife is out for the day, leaving the father-daughter duo to themselves.
sylus then slowly moves through the melody, rubbing his nose against his daughter’s soft cheeks, tickling her in the process.
“dada! it tickles!!”, the little one’s giggles spreads around the room, making the twins, kieran and luke, pause on their own thing to let themselves observe the two.
sylus continues to shower his daughter with affection; pressing soft kisses on her forehead, nose, and cheeks. then letting her rest against his shoulder, “i love you dada”.
you never imagined seeing your husband dressing your son in a dino onesie, with his own volition—and a matching one that is. you controlled your giggles as you watch them laugh in each other’s presence, your son’s hands gripping his father’s hair as he babble about something you won’t have an idea about. while your husband, who is known to be snarky and nonchalant, is smiling at his son—just letting him do whatever he wants with him. as soon as he zipped the onesie, tsukki began showering his son in kisses. starting with his face, down to his tummy to tickle him. you on the other hand, forgot that you’re holding a tray of their mid-day snacks. a small movement caught tsukki’s attention, making him look towards you. you see his lips turn into a smirk as he look at his son, “mama’s here”. as if they planned it before hand, tsukki stood up with his son in his arms, and both of them started roaring as tsukki walked towards you. “hey! i’m holding a tray wait!”, you squealed. but, tsukki ignored it as he continues to “scare” you with his son.
other people are scared of your husband? but in reality, he’s just a big cuddly, shy man to you and his son. the only people he’ll show this side to.
When Zayne had insisted on a very sturdy bookshelf in the nursery, you hadn't foreseen it going quite like this.
"She's six months old, Zayne, she doesn't know what myocardial ischemia is." You can't help but smile as Zayne flips open the cardiac textbook he had written to the chapter on Angioplasty.
"She likes it. It helps her sleep." The baby in question is nestled in his lap, blinking slowly but clearly no less entertained. Zayne didn't often get to put her to bed so you're sure she's enjoying the extra time with him. At least, as much as she can at this stage.
"The bottle we just gave her helps her sleep. You don't want to read her something...cuter?" You ask, trying not to get squeamish at the detailed diagram of a blocked artery.
He blinks up at you in surprise, as if he hadn’t even considered the idea. Of course, why would he?
However, you eat your words when he creeps out of the nursery not even five minutes later, baby monitor in hand.
“You got her down already? She usually takes at least ten minutes to fall asleep.” You check the monitor, almost unbelievably. But sure enough, she’s fast asleep in her crib. Zayne smiles ever so slightly, an arm snaking around your waist.
“Don’t you remember when you were pregnant and you kept having nightmares? The only thing that could get you to sleep was the sound of my voice. So I would talk about what I know best.”
You do remember. Apparently, your daughter does too.
You’re not around, and Caleb has the boys in tow on an errand run. He gave them a little “mission list” because of course he did. “Alright soldiers, we need bread, milk, and apples. Move out.” They scatter down the aisles, each with their assigned item, determined as hell because Dad gave them orders.
Caleb’s waiting at the cart, arms crossed like a guard dog, when a woman sidles up with a smile. “Hey there, handsome. Shopping alone today?” Caleb immediately shakes his head, lifts his hand to show the ring glinting on his finger. “Married,” he says, voice flat, sharp, and dismissive. But she laughs like it’s a challenge. She leans closer, brushing her hair over her shoulder, not taking no for an answer.
Caleb’s jaw ticks, already annoyed, but before he even needs to say more—there’s a thud. The youngest has dropped the carton of milk he was carrying, forgotten mission entirely. His tiny legs are sprinting full speed and then—bam—he’s glued to Caleb’s leg like a koala, glaring up at the woman with the fiercest pout his little face can manage. “Leave daddy alone! Hmph!”
Caleb actually chokes on his breath. He wasn’t expecting backup.
Then the oldest arrives, bread in hand, sliding in front of Caleb like a pint-sized bodyguard. He plants his feet, looks up at the lady with pure seriousness. “Sorry, miss. But our mom can fight.”
The woman blinks, thrown completely off. “Your… mom can—what?”
Before she can even process, the middle child trots up clutching Caleb’s phone, thumb already pressing buttons. “I’m calling Mom.” He holds it to his ear with the gravest expression, like this is a national emergency. “Hi, Mommy? Daddy’s in danger.”
Caleb’s just standing there, utterly gobsmacked, torn between laughter and pride. He scoops the littlest higher onto his hip, ruffles the oldest’s hair, gently plucks the phone from the middle before you actually panic on the other end. “Alright, alright—stand down, troops. Crisis averted.”
The lady is absolutely flabbergasted, mutters something about needing to be somewhere else, and scurries away under the weight of three death glares and one very smug Colonel Dad. Caleb watches her retreat, lips twitching, then glances down at his sons. “Good work, boys. Mission accomplished.”
The youngest still puffs out his cheeks. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I’ll protect you.” Caleb just hugs them all against his side, basket clattering on the floor, thinking to himself that he doesn’t need guard dogs. He already has three puppies that bite.
the youngest boy—your tiny little shy bean—he’s the softest thing in the whole house.
if your first born was a grumpy dumpling, and your second a sunshine cannonball, then your third… is the little cloud quiet, clingy, and sweet as sugar. he’s the kind of baby who doesn’t burst into the world with a cry—he peeks. his big brothers came screaming and kicking. this one blinked up at you and Caleb with big, glassy purple eyes like, “...hi 🥺”
he doesn’t crawl around like his second brother. oh no. he stays. always sitting on the softest, fluffiest blanket with his favorite plush in hand—usually clutching its ear like a lifeline. he doesn’t like loud noises, doesn’t like strangers cooing at him, doesn’t like being held by anyone who isn’t you or Caleb.
if someone unfamiliar gets too close? Wails. Not soft baby crying. Oh no. Full tears, red cheeks, hiccup-sobs. You or Caleb pick him up, and he immediately buries his little face into your neck like a koala clinging to a tree, making those tiny sniffle sounds and god—your heart just melts every time.
his brothers, of course, are chaotic little agents of noise. his middle brother will constantly toddle over, grab him by the tiny hand, and go, “c’mon, let’s play!” and your shy bean? he makes this tiny little offended squeak and starts crying like his brother just declared war on his plushie.
Caleb tries not to laugh every time, covering his mouth with his fist. Meanwhile, your oldest sighs like a 40-year-old man, walks over, scoops the baby up, and brings him right back to his “safe zone” like, “bro. I told you. don’t drag him outside.”
but with his brothers—the people he knows—he’s a completely different creature. soft giggles. clingy little hands. he loves sitting between the two of them, watching their chaos like a tiny king in a plush fortress. when they start rolling around like maniacs, he squeals and claps those chubby little hands, cheeks turning pink from laughing too hard.
and the hiding. oh god, the hiding :(
he’s the kind of kid that, when it gets too loud or overwhelming, just quietly disappears. you and Caleb have learned the hard way to check everywhere—under the couch, behind the curtains, under the coffee table—because there he’ll be, clutching his plush, big eyes peeking out like a shy little rabbit.
Caleb once found him hiding in a laundry basket and nearly cried because “pipsqueak, he’s too cute, what the hell do we do with this.”
and when you do find him, he doesn’t run away. he reaches out. tiny little arms up, silently asking to be picked up, and when you do, he just melts against your chest like that’s exactly where he belongs. he’s clingy. painfully shy. but in his little world? his mama, his dada, and his brothers are everything. and Caleb? completely weak for him. the big bad colonel will drop to his knees just to coax a tiny smile out of his quiet baby boy.
