Hi! My name is Tedrose and I’m the owner of this blog here!
I’ve been writing for a while now and I’m glad to at I can see how I’ve changed. I’ve gotten a little busy for it all and I’m thinking I might stop writing smau for now. I won’t delete my blog, but I’ll be going AFK.
— What does this mean?
Well you can still read my content, but I won’t be pushing out anything new for a while. Not sure if it’s forever but it’ll be a long time.
Thank you for everything and getting me to 1k! I’m so happy to have shared this with all of you! Goodbye for now!
thinking about kuroo buying you lingerie just to rip it off of you. Not like rip like move it but like legitimately tearing fabric and breathing heavily from the sight before he shoves his cock inside of you
in fact, his body clock is so finely tuned that he hardly needs it, and most of the time wakes up minutes before it goes off. when that happens he is thankful, because then he can turn it off and prevent it from waking you at the ungodly hour he has to get up and get ready, long before the rest of the world wakes. he has a nearly endless list of responsibilities, most of which he doesn't really mind, he'd chosen them himself and they are quite important to him and his livelihood. he has a routine and he sticks to it, years of practice and adjustments for efficiency making the burden a little lighter.
still, you think it's always been a lot for one person.
when you wake one morning, just before you know his alarm will sound, to find him still sleeping soundly, nuzzled into your neck and strong arms tight around your middle, you do what only seems right, knowing how hard he constantly works and how much more he's been doing lately, with opening another branch of his restaurant, how rare it is for him to take it upon himself to rest.
you shift gently in his arms to turn it off.
you take a moment to admire his sleeping form, to kiss his forehead and caress his cheek, smiling to yourself at how his nose scrunches at the touch, yet his breathing remains steady, heavy against your skin. he's pretty, he always has been, but when he's at his most peaceful like this, unguarded and vulnerable, you think you could fight the entire world's population to protect his peace.
your face softens, your heart melts. when you pull back ever so carefully, slow and gentle to remove yourself from his grasp, he instinctually lurches forward to hold you tighter, and it hurts more than it should to move away from him. you push the blanket down and step onto the cooled floor, sliding from him as quickly as you're able, and when you're finally free, you watch him from the side of the bed, waiting with bated breath to make sure he hadn't woken.
it amuses you greatly when his face pulls into a frown, though it does tug at your heartstrings quite a bit. despite that, he remains still, no other signs of waking. you breathe a sigh of relief, placate him with another chaste kiss to his cheek, pressing a thumb gently to his forehead to smooth out the discontented furrow of his brows.
how perfect he is, how lovely, you think, to care for you so much that he even acts on it subconsciously.
which is exactly why you want to show even more today that you care for him just as much.
osamu is doting, somehow so perceptive of you that he seems to know exactly what you need at any given time without prompting. he seems to know, as if by a sixth sense, when you are upset, is there with the perfect way to soothe and reassure you like he's pure magic. he takes care of you, seems to get that soft, satisfied look on his face when he does, when you let him cook for you for the hundredth time that week and tell him, as you do every single time, how delicious his food is with that bright grin on your face, when he snuggles his body perfectly against your own, like puzzle pieces finding home, when he finishes up laundry for you because you'd fallen asleep prematurely. he loves caring for you, he's told you countless times, reminded you a little more sternly at a few of those times when you had brought up how much he constantly does for you and irrationally felt guilty about it.
he loves you, completely and unconditionally, and he shows it by making sure you're content (and always well fed).
you make your way into the kitchen, not bothering to throw anything else on over your underwear and one of his worn old shirts that had migrated from being his pajamas to your own. countless washes and dries has made it smaller than its original state, its hem barely touching over the curve of your bottom. you throw an apron over it - a gift from him - and get to work.
-
you're pouring coffee out into your favorite mugs, having just finished breakfast, when you hear the slow, heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen, and your heart starts to race a little in anticipation, a smile tipping your lips at his timing.
moments later, osamu appears in the doorway, rubbing his eyes and smirking at you lazily. he stops for only a second to blink the haze out of his eyes before he's shuffling over to you, arms wide and inviting as you've always known them to be, wrapping around you in no time at all, like they belong here on your waist, snug and secure, big, warm chest to your back. he presses his lips sweetly to the side of your face, noses at your cheek. "why didn't ya wake me up, angel?"
you relax into his embrace, tilt your head back to catch his lips in a real kiss, in which his tongue slides into your mouth so smoothly, lapping up the lingering bitterness of the coffee you'd taken a sip of before making it to your taste. you hum with deep satisfaction, nipping a little on his bottom lip, always in awe of how thick and plush and pretty they are - just like the rest of him. when you pull away you're sure your eyes are starry and full of fondness as you gaze at him, charmed by the soft mess of his hair, the slight droop of his eyes sparkling back at you. "you need to rest once in a while too, sweetheart," you all but coo, touching a hand to his cheek, grinning when he leans into your palm, an equally gooey smile curling those pretty lips of his. he is by no means later than his usual schedule - you'd just eliminated one of his self-appointed daily tasks, knowing how important that time management is to him. you only wanted to buy him a few more minutes of rest, knowing he'd be too stubborn to take them himself, and too stubborn to put off work.
osamu opens his mouth as if to argue, but seems to think better of it when you raise a brow, challenging him. instead he sighs contentedly, pressing another kiss to the tip of your nose. "thank you."
you laugh quietly, reaching up to squish his cheeks together and ruffle up his already-ruffled hair. "anything for you, my lovely sleeping beauty."
he grumbles into the cup of coffee you hand him, but he can't help breaking into a soft smile when he takes a sip and knows it's exactly the way he likes it.
although, he thinks, he'd still drink every last drop if it wasn't, as long as you'd made it for him.
osamu settles into his spot at your tiny dining room table, and he thinks his jaw will start to ache soon at all the smiling he's been doing as soon as he'd woken up. you'd made little faces on the eggs, and they were smiling right back up at him, and when he looks up at you, you're trying to stifle a giggle (very poorly).
he gives you a look, one you know all too well, but before you can react, he's reached out (with unfairly long arms) and yanked you back into his chest, seating you in his lap in a fit of giggles that peters out as soon as he starts kissing all across your face, dotting your cheeks with them like freckles.
"i just realized something," he says finally, around a mouthful of rice, pausing to feed you too so you have matching chipmunk cheeks.
it's all you can do not to laugh again and make a mess, so you only hum in acknowledgement and swallow around it.
"ya haven't told me 'good morning' yet." the pout that accompanies this statement could rival the cutest baby in the world's.
if not only because you think he's the cutest thing you've ever seen.
still, you roll your eyes, holding another bite out to him while he tries his best not to break his ridiculous expression. "good morning, my prince," you say sarcastically, though your tone has a lot less bite than you'd intended.
osamu's eyes shine with mischief then, and you know you've made a mistake. "prince?" he smiles, devilish, handsome as ever even in his bedhead and crumpled hoodie (because he gets cold easily despite being your personal space heater).
you shush him with another bite of breakfast before he can continue his undoubtedly unwholesome train of thought, hiding your smile and the heat his stupid little smirk brings to your cheeks, into your coffee. "you're gonna be late, baby," you remind him, moving to get up from his lap.
osamu pushes you back down easily, securing his hold around your waist, and you pretend his subtle displays of strength have no effect on you whatsoever. "i'm not done eating yet, though?" he gazes at you steadily then, a smirk playing across his lips, just to make sure the implication hasn't missed you (it hasn't), just to make sure he can see your blush deepen and your breath hitch.
with another quick serving of rice he instantly dissolves the tension, grinning and blinking oh-so-innocently as he chews.
you frown at him pointedly, a little bit exasperated, a little bit in love.
"it's delicious, thank you, baby," he says then, around another mouthful, and you decide it's a lot more in love. when he looks at you like that, like he can't praise you enough, like he can't appreciate you enough, you finally understand why he takes such good care of you. it warms your heart beyond belief, surges you further into his embrace to kiss him until he's a few measly minutes behind schedule.
though, just between the two of you, he'd already had half a mind to take an impromptu day off.
Thinking about big softies. The kind of guys that on the outside, that they look soft and pliable. Big doe eyes and tender smiles, their hands are gentle. Kindly bringing you into their arms, when they know that later they’ll rail you into the high heavens.
AKAASHI, kuroo (lowkey, bc I think he would want to be a jerk), LEV, AONE
You know what makes me weak? Guys who are bullies until they’re broken down.
For example, Tsukishima. He bothers you relentlessly, day in and day out. He calls you names, most of which are just petty nicknames one could give to anyone. When you start to get closer to him, you realize his harassing is a ploy to keep you away. Now that he’s sobbing because it feels oh so good to even be touched by you, you understand why.
Please feed the Tsuki and Bee brain worm that lives in my head, my family life right now is not good and I need something cute 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Also I love you so much!!
YES IM SOERY ITS LATE !!
(Female Reader / Tsukishima Kei/Fluff)
— FAVORITE THING
“Open.” He has a strawberry pressed to your lips. After a long trek of picking them, he’s insisting that you have some even though it’s his favorite fruit.
You hesitate, opening your mouth to speak. He places it on your tongue before you can say a word, and you’re forced to chew instead of retort.
“They’re good, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” you mumble. “I just wanted you to have them.”
“I have plenty, stupid.” He replies, waving a hand as he speaks over the bowl. “And I can’t possible eat them all by myself. So relax.”
You find yourself smiling as he continues to feed you strawberries until your lips turn red.
