Sucker For You.

In case you didn’t know, I’m in love with Osamu Miya.

But I’m especially in love with the idea that Osamu Miya can, and does, look good doing absolutely anything. Be it from folding your laundry (seriously, he knows how to fold a bed sheet? God tier.) to tying a tie around his neck for a business meeting, even drying his hair from a shower is an absolute joy to witness him do, and your eyes merely glaze and follow his frame as he performs these tasks with you to only watch.

And boy, do you indeed love to watch him.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” He snickers, his eyes fixating on yours through the mirror, massive paw carding back his now brushed, albeit still damp hair. You offer him a shrug and a smile, “just you… I’m always looking at you.”

When he bows his head to hide the blush and the smile that wants to spread over his face, he’s interrupted by your dramatic sigh, “can’t help but think how I could do so. Much. Better.”

His eyes, now glimmering with mischief, meet yours back in the mirror, and he gives you a sharp, overdone inhale through his nose before stalking towards you. “Is that right?” He hums, planting himself at the edge of the bed and biting his cheek. “Seven years together and you’ve had to live with that knowledge every day?” Before you can answer, a massive hand darts down to wrap around your ankle and drag you down the bed and have him stood between your legs, ignoring your screams and laughter of protest. “How have you ever lived such a life?”

“Osamu!” You scream, your legs tossing around his waist instinctively while his now free hands lace his fingers between yours before pinning them on either side of your head. You try to tug your arms down, but he’s got them exactly where he wants them, and he’s not letting them go.

“You poor, poor thing, didn’t your friends warn you about that before we got together?” He peppers your neck and ears with bites and kisses to make you squeak and laugh at the ticklish feeling, your heels drumming against his lower back. “S-Stoppit!” You scold as sternly as you can despite your laughter.

“Oh, what, don’t want some absolute ogre so close to you?” He playfully starts to slam his hips upwards to bounce into yours, mimicking an all too familiar action and causing your body to bounce and shift upwards. Each slam of his hips against yours only makes a louder scream tumble past your lips, and your legs tighten around him. The bed creaks under you both, his mock thrusts showing a playful side of ‘Samu you’d always crave.

“O-Sam-u!” You laugh with each jounce of your frame. You finally tug your hands free and shove him back with all your might when he uses one of his newly free hands to skitter over your ribs. “I-I-I’m sorry!” You whine, arching as much as you can against his tickling and thrusting hips.

“For calling me ugly, or for insinuating you could do better?” He says, but his voice holds no annoyance or sadness, instead, it’s mingled with a smile that plants sweet kisses to your jawline once he stops his merciless punishment.

“You’re not ugly,” you sigh happily at the feeling of his lips over your skin, your arms tossing around his neck when you deem him pliant. “I just hate how handsome you are- gotta knock you down a peg once in a while.”

“And that seemed to work awesome for ya.” He snickers against your skin before wrapping his own arms around you, worming them between your body and the mattress to hold you impossibly closer.

“But hey… must be pretty handsome if I was able to score you, babe.”

You smile and scratch lovingly at his undercut, “must be.”

Jude Law and Ewan McGregor, Lorenzo Agius (2003) / Aaron Paul and Bryan Cranston, Max Barsness (2022)

your son is in that age where he's throwing a lot of fits for not getting what he wants, and you get so fed up with him one day that you wrap him up tight in a blanket and scoop him up into your arms, hugging him to your chest so he can't move.

you come into the living room and tell katsuki, "look at this fussy little baby!" and you force a bunch of kisses all over his face as he squeals with laughter.

and then eventually katsuki takes him from you and rocks him around violently, before ticklingly him under his little pits. "a baby? didn't know we had another damn baby in the house,"

“make sure ya get the back of my neck.”

“sure.”

“get the sides, too.”

“okay.”

“and make sure ya don’t miss a single spot!”

this time, you don’t have as much patience. you grip a handful of osamu’s wet hair, ignoring the exaggerated exclamations of pain as you do.

“i. said. oh.. kay!!” each word is accompanied with a jerk of his head. osamu’s reaching for your forearms now, smacking them as if he’s tapping out of a boxing match.

he glares at you, pout on. you grin back. you win.

and as if to make it a point, you begin to massage his scalp with a gentle scrape of your fingernails. swirling his hair, making sure you get into the follicles, and forcing a subtle pressure onto the base of his skull, you press a kiss right at the edge of his brow as a gift for finally behaving.

osamu hums at that. he closes his eyes to relax and as the moments pass, he slowly liquifies beneath you. the bend of his back curves into your belly as he breathes deep, unperturbed by the scent of ammonia.

“feels nice.”

“is that right, old man?”

osamu’s back to glaring. a giggled kiss back to his brow does nothing to abate it.

“too soon?”

he answers by pinching your thigh. you smack a gloved hand across his shoulder and he only snickers loudly, leaning all his weight onto you that you almost topple over. just as quickly as it left, silence settles into the bathroom once again.

“too old,” osamu eventually says. his confession is quiet, one that opens a space for thought, a little reprieve to reminisce. the fluorescent bulbs in your bathroom suddenly dull into a warm glow.

he says old as if it were a bad thing. like cracks on a sidewalk or black cats. old as if it were something to avoid.

it’s how this all started anyways. after a long day at onigiri miya, osamu’s feet found their way back home to you. he smells of sweat and sweet vinegar and hard work and yours. routine makes his way to you, slide his hands across your ribs and pecks you twice along the lips. then he goes to the bathroom, turns the shower on, and sheds his clothes beginning with his cap.

osamu was fiddling with his belt buckle with one hand and shuffling his hair with the other when he found it.

a gray hair. gray. and not the artificial kind.

one hour, one impromptu trip to the konbini, and one plucked gray hair burned spitefully at the stove, you're back in the bathroom again.

he wants to dye his hair gray. the artificial kind. the color he had back in high school, to a younger version of the one in front of you. and as much as you liked inarizaki osamu, any version of osamu actually, you especially like this one here.

"i think you're pretty sexy in gray." you mention without looking at him. osamu's trying to find meaning, the true meaning to the words you say. he watches your reflection as you busy yourself by discarding your used gloves.

old means growth. his hair will fade just like the original onigiri miya shirt that stretches across his wide chest but your love for him never will. time loves him just as much as you, kisses lines at the corners of his eyes, strokes rough edges along his palms, and you are gifted with a front seat to it.

"ya think tsumu's got gray hairs?" he finally asks.

"i'll do you one better," you smile wryly and lower yourself to whisper in his ear. "i think his hair is thinning."

hi!! for the scenarios, kuroo+baby’s first word? <33

the second kuroo bursts into your bedroom with your one-year-old son in his arms, you know you've won.

"you cheated!" he accuses with a pointed finger.

you place the last of your laundry into your shared closet and close the door. picking up the empty basket, you give him a pointed look as you walk past him. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"cheater!" he cries, following you to the laundry area.

"still no clue," you say, setting down the basket and turning.

kuroo trails you all this while, all 189 cm irately bobbing around your house. "you taught him to say mama."

you try not to laugh, and attempt to school your expression as you sit down on your couch, looking up at him. "i did not."

tetsurō peers at your face with squinting eyes, and you can’t help the way the corner of your mouth twitches. he explodes. "you're smiling! i knew it!"

your son blinks, looking from his father to you, and he smiles. extending his arms, he reaches for you. "mama!"

"see?!" your husband wails, and you stand up briefly to take your son before sitting back down. "that's against the rules!"

"what rules?" you say with a roll of your eyes, unable to help your smile any longer, allowing your son to play with your hair. "english wasn't off the table when we had our bet about what word he'd say first."

"it was either okaa-san or otō-san and you know it!" kuroo snaps, cutely stomping to the armchair and sitting down, crossing his arms and pouting. 

you supress a laugh at his touchiness, but nudge your son. “baby, where’s papa?”

his eyes blink up at you, then he points at your husband. tetsurō kuroo glares at the chubby little hand of his traitorous son.

“go give papa a hug,” you say, setting him down. he takes wide steps before giving up and speed crawling to his father. 

despite kuroo’s pout, he bends over to pick up his son. 

“you can always try again with baby number two,” you remind him.

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, leaning back so your son can settle on his chest. “you’re lucky i love you."

you chuckle. “hey, baby,” you call to your son, and the boy looks back at you, his hands on the collar of your husband’s shirt. you see the affection that opens up on tetsurō’s face when he looks at his child, and it makes your heart twinge. “say papa.”

your son doesn’t falter, offering you a smile. “mama!”

hq boys post wisdom teeth extraction

tags: fluff, soft boyfies lol

kuroo tetsurou wakes up and immediately the first thing he tells the professionals around him is that he wants to see his girlfriend because he knows you’re waiting for him and “i love her so much 🥺🥰" he says it a few more times and everyone laughs at how doped up he is both from the drugs and you. when you walk in to take notes on how to take care of him afterwards, he just stares at you as he holds you hand with the SOFTEST LOOK on his face like 🥺😍☺️❤️💕💖💝🥺🥰💖💝☺️

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