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#that doesn’t erase my love for the fluffy creeper designs for him for these are the best XD
xzazu2002 · 3 months
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Mr Doc he sleep
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anonymous asked: Could I request a scenario with Kuroo and his s/o being really domestic and doing chores and things, and he realizes how much he loves his s/o? Thanks!
well. here’s proof that im not dead. writing Kuroo is such my guilty pleasure and this is tooth-rottingly fluffy. I also?? realized that I might have strayed from the request a bit?? hope you still enjoy my lovely anon 💕 - J
Weekends were a blessing in this household. Not that Kuroo took advantage of them most of the time anyways. Last night he complained about his new project at work long enough that you were suspicious he was going to waste his weekend working on it like he was known to do. So, this morning, when he started shifting in bed next to you; making the usual motions to get out up, you wrapped your arms around his middle and nuzzled against his neck.
“Kitten…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I need to be productive today.”
“It’s Saturday,” you said, your voice muffled against his skin; willing him to burrow back into the blankets with you for even a few more minutes. He sighed, glancing at the sun already shining through the bedroom window, his mind racing through the to-do list he created last night while he couldn’t fall asleep. You groaned, realizing your efforts were turning out to be futile. Blinking blearily up at him to meet his already clear and alert gaze, you conceded. “You’re allowed to be a hermit for the day if you at least spend the morning with me.”
He grinned lazily at you. “Spend the morning with you? Too high a price. How could you subject me to such torture?” You laughed, cupping his face in your hands and pulling him down to kiss you. Tangling your fingers lightly in his mussed-up hair in hopes of convincing him to give up on his ‘productive’ day. “That won’t work.” He smirked. “Good try though.”
You pouted. “Worth a shot. I guess you’ll just have to grin and bear one cup of tea with me then.”
“The horror.”
You stuck your tongue out but untangled yourself from his long limbs and threw the covers off you. Standing and stretching, you shamelessly showed off the fact you weren’t wearing anything but an old t-shirt of his and underwear. Raising an eyebrow at him enjoying the view, you prompted, “You sure about your choice?”
He swallowed thickly, yet somehow managed to betray the way his heart was thumping against his chest. “Absolutely.” Even after a few years together, the last couple sharing an apartment, he still woke up every morning feeling so utterly complete he thought his heart would burst.
You made an annoyed sound sauntering over to the doorway. “I’ll go start the hot water, Mr. Iron Will.”
A chuckle escaped him, and he watched you until you disappeared from sight; slightly regretting his stubbornness until he remembered all the things he wanted to get done today. He knows you don’t really mind him working on the weekend, though sometimes you forced him to take much needed breaks; and if he did it too many weekends in a row—which was rare—you wouldn’t allow him to even think about work. You understand and support his desire to succeed and reach his goals, as he did for you; maybe he would make it up to you tonight.
After rousing himself and throwing on a hoodie, he padded into the kitchen a few minutes later. Somedays, he was blatantly slapped in the face by how content he was with you—today seeming to be one of them. Watching you pour steaming water into two cups, gingerly placing teabags into each, a smile spreading across your lips when you turn around to find him standing there; he briefly thought to himself: This is it. All I’ll ever need.
You hand his cup over, he notes that you’ve chosen his favorite tea this morning, then sit at the counter patting the seat next to you. You also opened some windows, allowing a brisk spring breeze to blow lightly through the apartment and you look like you’re enjoying the fresh air. He’s a bit at a loss for words, feeling choked by the onslaught emotions flooding him; and he’s glad for you starting the conversation asking about the project he insists on working on over the weekend.
He easily slips into raving about the new work he’s been given, he’s actually in charge of the team this time; so, he’s feeling a lot more pressure and responsibility than usual. You can’t help but smile into your mug, watching him talk excitedly about his job; his own mug momentarily forgotten on the counter. While he sometimes gets more technical than you can understand, you could listen to him talk about it for hours because he loved it and you loved him.
“You’re getting that look on your face.”
You blinked. “What look?”
“That look when I’ve been talking about DNA for too long.”
He couldn’t be farther from the truth, so you waved your hand in dismissal at him. “I was just thinking if you’re going to be productive today, so should I.” You glanced at the cup in his hands. “Finished?” He placed it in your outstretched hand with a grateful smile. Standing, you gave him a knowing look. “You’re free now.”
Before you could get too far, he snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against him into an embrace. “I love you. You know that?” He sighed against your hair.
“You’re going to make me drop these mugs,” you huffed. He released you, watching you make your way to the sink and place the cups next to some dishes from last night. With your back to him, you said, “And I love you too—now get out of here before I lose any and all motivation to do anything today and drag you back into that bedroom.”
He grinned and headed to the room designated the shared ‘office’, his smile widening when he heard you shout down the hallway, “At least open the window! It’s beautiful out!”
Once he gets himself situated at the desk, pulling out pen and paper to write his mental to-do list down, he hears you pass by into the bedroom and he wonders if you ended up losing motivation after all. Moments later, he hears you again and then telltale sound of the washing machine starting. After that, he doesn’t notice much except for the array of papers in front of him and the whiteboard he insisted on adding to the room when the two of you moved in. It was already littered with scribblings of his jumbled thoughts from the week; a tiny pang hitting his heart upon noticing a small note of ‘I love you’ written in the corner in your handwriting.
The two of you hadn’t woken up too late, so you’re able to get several loads of laundry done; in the meantime, vacuuming the living room, hallway, and bedroom. You avoid the office to not distract Kuroo, knowing the action of you constantly rocking back and forth with the vacuum might get him to ignore work for a while. He had this weird tendency to get all mushy whenever you started doing mundane tasks like chores around the house.
You have enough time before taking a lunch break to start folding the laundry; pressing play on a playlist you let your mind wander to blissful nothingness. That was the state Kuroo found you in when he finally emerged from the office when his stomach had started rumbling. He just stood in the doorway, arms crossed across his chest, trying not to startle you out of this picturesque view. He could have stood there watching you humming softly to the music playing from your phone, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips for hours—you looked perfectly content.
He wanted to rush over to you, gather you up in his arms and kiss every inch of skin he could; express to you without words that he felt the same way. That he could spend a hundred years in perfect bliss with you, even just doing household chores would be enough for him.
Eventually, you noticed him, jerking a bit in surprise at him just standing there watching you for who knows how long. “As great as the view of me folding laundry must be—stop staring you creeper,” you teased, returning back to the shirt you had dropped in surprise at seeing him.
Taking you fully by surprise, he strides into the room and smothers you in an embrace; practically tackling you on the couch. “Kuro—oh!” He cut you off with his lips pressing against yours, a little needy; and you concluded your prior thought that he was going to get all sappy in response to this day of chores as correct. It was hard not to laugh at him because admittedly—it was adorable, and you didn’t mind the affection.
“Let’s go to the café for lunch today. It’s so nice out, we can walk, stretch our legs a bit; yeah? I don’t think I can look at another molecule for at least an hour.”
His heart swelled at the grin that spread across your face at his suggestion.
The walk was everything he needed—fresh air and talking with you. You asked him how his progress was going today, slyly asking if it was going to bleed into tomorrow. He caught the glimmer of happiness that flitted across your face when he answered ‘no’. Even if he did have more to do, how could be possibly resist you after today? He prided himself on the face he had some sense of willpower, but when it came to you, he was far easier to crack.
He realized he would give anything—anything, to continue making you smile and laugh for as long as he lived. Nothing made him happier than spending time with you; even after all this time, he’d never grown tired of it and didn’t think he ever would.
Your lunch together ends far too soon and he finds himself reluctantly heading back to the office. Just thinking about the mess he left in there an hour or two ago was enough to make his head start to hurt. While he tried to focus and get back into the zone again, he simply couldn’t. You were too far at the forefront of his mind and it became quite clear to him that he would much rather be spending time with you right now than these pieces of paper and his own thoughts.
Gathering up his things, he placed them neatly into a drawer; out of sight and out of mind. He erased what he had on the whiteboard, leaving your small note; and left, shutting the door behind him. There was no reason for him to enter that room until the weekend was over.
You were no longer in the living room, the folded laundry placed at the end at the hallway for you to bring back to the bedroom at some point. Before entering the kitchen where the sound of running water and music intermixed was drifting from, he took the liberty of taking the laundry and putting it away for you.
Upon seeing you though, he stopped in his tracks. Overcome by the thought of: Holy fuck. I am the luckiest man in the world. All you’re doing is swaying gently to the music, elbow deep in dishwater; and he doesn’t know what to do with himself—smitten at the sight.
You practically throw a plate into the air when you feel hands rest on your hips followed by lips pressing to the nape of your neck. “Jesus—Kuroo! I almost smacked you with this plate.”
“I finished,” he said, hands drifting just underneath your shirt to rub small circles on your skin.
Your face lit up. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Can I help?”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Are you going to be all weird and stare at me the entire time?” He blinked in shock while a light blush crept onto his cheeks—you fought the urge to smirk, it was a rare treat to see Kuroo blush. You’d gotten significantly better at eliciting that response from him in the years you’d been together. “All I’m doing is washing dishes.”
“Liar, you’ve been trying to seduce me all day,” he quipped, despite having been caught red-handed in this sentimental mindset he tended to slip into on glaringly ordinary days like today.
A smirk graced your lips seeing straight through him. “Oh, if that had been my goal, we wouldn’t be standing here right now Tetsurou.”
“Now you’re playing with me.”
You shrugged, laughing, “Maybe so.” Then handed him the plate you were holding. “You can help by drying the dishes. Can you handle that without getting distracted by all this?” You motioned jokingly to yourself, hair tied up messily and wearing an old apron to keep dirty dishwater from getting on your clothes. Clearly, you didn’t look your best today.
He drops the plate back into the sink, ignoring your cry of protest that you’d have to rewash it. “No sh,” he says cupping your cheeks with his hands. “I love you.”
“Sap.”
He leans down to press a kiss to your lips, afterwards murmuring, “Come on—say it back to me, love.”
You can’t help but grin and repeat the words to him, earning yourself another kiss.
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