kurooscopy

[kurooscopy]

Reblog to have prev’s romantic f/o kiss them

[kurooscopy]

🫵 STOP! you are doomscrolling. tell me your favorite animal instead

[kurooscopy]

Reblog to have prev’s romantic f/o kiss them

[kurooscopy]

Reblog to have prev’s romantic f/o kiss them

[kurooscopy]

pause .. which of your selfships has the most angst? and which one has the least?

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really is embarrassing being known for being obsessed with a certain character bc if you start typing ‘arghhh i love Character so much Character is so peak’ it’s like yeah everyone knows. aw look grandma’s going on about her favorite old story again the fifth time this week

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Searching for straw hat~ 🔥 🎩 👒

I just wanted to draw Sabo and Ace in egghead outfits :D

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guys dunk my head in ice water, slap me across the face, and tell me i don't need another comm so soon

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COUNTER OFFER — sanji

ᯓ fluff. while sitting together on the deck you finally ask sanji the question that's been rolling around in your head for days. wc; 657

“Can you teach me how to cook?” You ask, face hidden behind Nami’s newspaper—it’s yesterday's and your eyes are skimming the words more than actually reading them.

“Teach you how to cook?” Sanji raises an eyebrow, “well, I am this ship's cook, better you ask me and not one of those idiots out there.”

He jerks his thumb over his shoulder and your gaze follows.

Proving his point better than words ever could you watch as Luffy and Usopp chase each other around the deck. Dodging and shouting and somehow both losing to the other in whatever battle they're fighting.

“Shut up! I'm serious.” You pause, there's a blush on your face that Sanji swears wasn't there 10 seconds ago.

“Yeah?” He asks, a puff of smoke rising into the air as he takes a drag of the cigarette that sits between his delicate—and deliciously long—fingers.

“Yes!” You exclaim, a little louder than you intended.

Your blush deepens and you shove Sanji’s shoulder in an attempt to draw his attention away from your face. It doesn't work.

“Look, I'm just–it’s impressive, okay? The way you're able to make sure we're all fed and healthy. I want to see how you do it. And I can't just ask “oh hey can I stand next to you and look over your shoulder while you cook?” that's weird.”

Sanji chuckles—deep and hearty and only a teensy bit teasing.

“You really want me to teach you something?” There's a light dusting of pink on his cheeks now.

You nod.

He hums, pretending to mull it over. He even taps a finger against his chin, before narrowing his eyes and looking dramatically towards the sky.

Truthfully, there's nothing you could ask that he would ever say no to.

“Hmmm… okay, sure.” He shrugs, like it's no big deal, but his heart is almost bursting over the idea.

“Wait–really? I know I asked but… you don't typically like people meddling with your cooking.”

Your eyes drift back over to your Captain, a victorious grin on his face as he yells about his victory over Usopp—who is now laying on the ground, underneath said Captain.

“Well, yeah.” He scoffs, “those guys have absolutely no place in the kitchen, except to eat my delicious and well crafted meals. But, this is you we're talking about. I'd trust you with anything.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that you almost miss it—the sweet underlying message to his words. The deep blush that's beginning to cover his ears tells you he didn't exactly intend to sound so lovesick just now.

You avert your eyes, sure that your face must be as warm as his by now.

“Although,” he pauses, his hand shaking minutely as he takes another drag of his cigarette. “I haven't told you the price of my tutelage yet.”

You grin. “Oh yeah? Please, do tell.”

You meet his eyes and he matches your grin with one of his own. Your knees knock together as he swirls in his seat to face you.

“Well… if I'm going to be tutoring you then you gotta be willing to pay for my services. Teaching isn't easy, you know. I'd expect–oh, I don't know… at least twelve kisses for every one-on-one session. More if you want me to work evenings.”

You laugh. “Yeah? Well, how ‘bout you give me the first session for free, and if I like what I'm seeing then I'll be more than happy to pay your price…”

You lean forward, moving your head to rest on your palms, elbows on your knees. His heart races when your eyes flutter up at him.

“And… if I'm super impressed with your teaching skills then perhaps I'll even pay extra.”

Your smile is wicked—and utterly gorgeous. You send a wink Sanji’s way, before cooly sitting back, resting your weight on your hands behind you.

Judging by his spluttering non-response Sanji seems to be well satisfied with your counteroffer.

[kurooscopy]

love saying "question mark?" out loud when I'm talking about something i'm unsure of

[kurooscopy]

NIGHT AIR — roronoa zoro x reader

gn!reader, fluff, basically just you curled up in zoro's arms under the night sky. wc; 488

It's like a dream, having you in his arms like this. Eyes squeezed shut, no sign of worry on your face, and the smell of salt wound tightly into the fabric of the blanket he threw over you when you began to drift to sleep.

There's familiarity in the way he holds you, tight and secure against his chest. Although you haven't spoken explicitly about this blossoming attraction and devotion, Zoro could never deny how utterly enamored he is with you. Everyone sees the adoration in his eyes when he looks at you, and only a fool could miss the warmth with which you speak his name—soft, breathless, familiar.

His arms pull you closer as the ship hits an unusually big wave and a soft whine escapes your lips. He freezes, worried the jarring bump has woken you up. He's about to speak, to soothe and attempt to lull you back into your slumber, when you curl against him again. Your face burrows into the crook of his arm and he gently shifts his weight so that you don't strain your neck. The night air is cool but welcome, a light breeze sends a shiver down the swordman’s spine. Your back is no longer pressed against Zoro’s chest, you've manoeuvred yourself onto your side, the soft blanket beneath you acting as a welcome cushion against the hard deck.

A smile flits momentarily across Zoro’s face when you unconsciously wrap yourself around his arm—he shivers under your delicate touch. You hold him like you're scared he'll disappear.

Even in your sleep you manage to find ways to make him blush.

“You…” He whispers, his voice is so quiet it gets carried away by the ocean breeze before it gets the chance to reach your sleeping ears.

The waves lap against the ship, providing an almost perfect ambience to the otherwise soundless deck. His free hand pushes your hair out of your face, tangling among the delicate strands. He plays absentmindedly, letting the fresh evening air wash over his face while he watches over you.

He doesn't know how much time he has until the rain comes—Nami said this evening sometime… he forgot to listen for specifics. It didn't seem important at the time.

He doesn't understand why you would want to spend your free time sitting with him on the deck, slightly cold and slightly damp, when you could be warm and more comfortable sleeping in your bed.

And he has no idea when just the mere thought of your eyes on him started to make his heart race.

But he does know that he's never felt more at ease than when you're wrapped safely in his arms.

He does know that the sound of your laughter can make even his worse days that little bit better.

And he does know that he'll do anything he can to keep you by his side, for as long as he can.

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when he makes love to you when you’re sad 🥹

when he kisses your tears away as he’s pushing himself inside you, hikes both your legs up higher around his waist so you can cling closer to him, hugs your body to his in strong safe arms. lets you cry and whimper into his mouth as he whispers reassurance against your wobbly bottom lip, while he rocks into you with slow and deliberate strokes that leave you feeling full and warm instead of trembling from the things that lay heavy on your mind. your bodies so close and so intertwined that you feel your anxious heart starting to beat in time with his, his cock carving into you as the tears slide down the sides of your face and he nuzzles closer to remind you that he loves you and he’s here for you, everything will be alright — meeting your glassy eyes and cupping your cheeks as he grinds himself into you when you cum with a soft cry, and he promises that he’s got you, “ive always got you” ♡

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he is here

school uniform tetsu nendoroid....i must have you...

[kurooscopy]

⟢ pairing: kuroo x reader

⟢ genre: fluff

⟢ wc: < 1k

⟢ a/n: oh I miss him :((

“Thanks for letting me use your shower.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem. How long will yours take to get fixed?”

“Trying to get rid of me already?”

“Aw, how did you guess?” you say, rolling your eyes. “Actually, I’m just asking because I know it must be a hassle having to come here just to shower.”

“Maybe I should just move in at this point.” Kuroo sighs, shutting the bathroom door behind him as he enters your small kitchen, dressed comfortably in sweatpants and a black t-shirt with a fluffy white towel draped about his shoulders. He leans against the counter beside you as you busy yourself with cooking eggs for breakfast, watching fondly as you focus on the task before you. “The landlord told me that the plumber should come over in a couple of days.”

“First your heating, now your plumbing, whatever next?” you chuckle.

“The perks of being a student,” he drawls sarcastically.

“Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to use my expensive shampoo?”

“Smell my head and find out.”

“You’re so weird.”

You turn off the heat and plate up your food before turning to your best friend to say something witty, only to suddenly find that your tongue is too heavy to speak. The first thought that crosses your mind is ‘how have I never seen this before?’ The second is that you hope he can’t feel the burning heat radiating from your cheeks from where he stands. You’re quiet as you stare at him, half admiring, half amazed.

His hair lies flat, unlike the usual unruly, gravity-defying mess of black that sits on his head. It’s still a little damp, slowly drying in the warmth of your apartment, a lone droplet of water dripping from the ends and landing on his towel. It hangs in his eyes a little more than usual and the urge to run your fingers through it overwhelms you - it just looks so soft.

“What?” he asks, cocking his head to this side.

“Hm?”

“You’re staring.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

Without missing a beat, you mirror him. “Maybe because I didn’t know your hair could do that.”

He makes a noise of confusion. “Do what?”

“Go flat. I thought it was impervious to the laws of physics.”

Kuroo snickers, running a hand through his hair almost bashfully and you’ve never felt so jealous of a hand in your whole life. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“It’s like finding out that the tooth fairy isn’t real.”

“My hair isn’t a mythical creature.”

“Clearly not. What’s your secret if not magic?”

Kuroo can’t help the grin that splits his face and he shakes his head as he laughs at the pout on your lips. “Bad habits.”

Huffing, you fold your arms over your chest. “It even looks softer.”

“It’s always been soft,” he frowns.

“I wouldn’t know,” you shrug.

“Then touch it,” he says, tipping his head towards you. It’s too tempting an offer to pass up, one that makes you giddy and fluttery inside. You feign resignation with a heavy sigh.

“Fine.”

Sinking your fingers into his hair makes your heart ache wonderfully because he was right - it is soft. The strands are silky between your fingers as you gently comb them through his thick mop of hair. Now that you’ve started, you can’t seem to stop and Kuroo is clearly enjoying the attention, humming and subtly pushing his head into your hands as you scratch at his scalp - like an overgrown cat. You catch the scent of his own shampoo, fresh and masculine and dangerously pleasant.

“I guess you really didn’t use my stuff,” you murmur.

“I did say.” Reluctantly you remove your hands from his hair and he raises his head a little to look at you. There’s a gentle twinkle in his warm eyes, an even gentler smile on his face that one could easily mistake for adoration. His voice is hushed, face inches from yours. “Your fingers felt nice.”

“I could tell,” you whisper. “I really thought you were about to start purring there.”

His cheeks flush pink with embarrassment and you giggle, tentatively reaching out to brush his fringe back. “If you carried on, I might have.”

All of a sudden, you become hyper aware of how close he is to you, so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips - so close that if you inched forwards just a little, you could kiss him. You wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. For a moment, you’re convinced he is because his eyes flutter and he wets his lips as his eyes flicker down to your mouth for the briefest second. But then he slowly straightens up and you have to squash the disappointment that blooms in your chest as he clears his throat.

Wrong again.

“Let’s eat.”

[kurooscopy]

the morning after — sanji x reader

ᯓ suggestive, kissing, sanji makes breakfast, mentions of anxiety surrounding sex, alludes to readers first time but doesn't have to be read that way. wc; 1035. divider @/saradika-graphics

Your eyes blink open slowly, there's a soft breeze coming in through the crack in the door, and in with it wafts a delicious smell. As you sit yourself up on your elbows—memories of the night before beginning to resurface—you reach for the man beside you, only to find the space empty. Your eyes narrow, a small pout appears on your face.

There's something bugging you, something just out of reach and it slips from your mind as the memories from your night with Sanji begin to race through your head once more. Your cheeks burn as you replay the images. The way he had kissed you, all teeth and smiles, when he had pressed himself between your legs. The way his hands had cradled your face so gently as he rocked his hips against you, his voice whispering only your name and sweet, sweet nothings into your ear.

There had been a moment early on when you had felt yourself beginning to get overwhelmed, the insecurities and worries that you were doing something wrong clouding your enjoyment and turning it sour. But he had seen the signs coming from a mile away. He had helped you through the anxiety, his voice soothing and gentle, until there had been a smile back on your face and a whimper of pleasure escaping from between your plush, well-kissed lips.

The memories surge through your head like the current through the sea. You smile, your hand reaching towards your face to trace where his hands had held you only hours ago.

“Sanji?” You call out, eyes darting around the room like he could have sneaked in through the door without you noticing.

There's a sting behind your eyes when you receive no answer.

“Sanji?” You try again, your voice a little louder this time, despite your growing nervousness.

Again, nothing.

You stand, pulling the sheet from the bed and wrapping it around you as you move towards the door.

“Hello? Please tell me you–”

A loud crash cuts you off, you jump and take a few steps back just as the door swings open. It hits the wall and bounces back towards the person who just burst rather unceremoniously into the room.

“I'm here! I'm…here.” He says, breathless as if he had just run the entire length of the ship twelve times. “I thought… there would–whew–be time for me to make you… something before you woke up.” He pants.

Your eyes flit to Sanji’s hands—there’s a plate in one and a glass of juice in the other. The plate is covered in all sorts of food, like a pick ‘n mix of all the different things he's got hidden around the kitchen. There's eggs—scrambled, just how you like them—fruits from at least three separate markets and 2 slices of the most delicious bread you've seen in weeks.

That sting behind your eyes rears its head once again, but this time there's no pit of dread inside you that tells you he regrets ever pressing his lips against yours. Instead, your stomach rumbles, loudly. You clamp your hand down as if trying to conceal the noise, your face heating up with embarrassment. Your eyes squeeze shut and you're about to speak when–

Oh shit.

Apparently two hands are needed to keep that sheet tight around your shoulders.

The soft material flutters down your body so quickly that you don't even have a second to react before it hits the floor, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, naked. Your eyes widen, you open your mouth to apologise, or to tell him to look away, but the look on his face causes you to pause, the words sitting on your tongue as your eyes catch his.

Sanji’s face is red, bright red. His mouth hangs open, agawk—you would have told him he'd catch flies if you didn't feel so totally frozen. He blindly puts the plate and cup down on the table, there's a split second where you think the plate is going to fall and you move forward without thinking.

You collide against Sanji, slipping on the sheet that you'd be using as a temporary coverup. A surprised cry spills from your lips.

Sanji catches you before you hit the ground, snaking his arms around your bare waist, his skin is warm on yours despite how flushed you are. The feeling of him touching you again sends a newfound heat across your body.

“Hello there, my love.” He whispers, lips almost touching yours. “You know… I never would have kept you waiting if I had known you'd miss me this much.”

Your words of retaliation die on your lips when you feel him flex his fingers on your waist. A shiver runs through you. There's a deliciously cocky smile on his face, one that you want more than anything to kiss away.

“Shut up.” You whisper, inching closer to his face.

“I'm just saying, yo–”

You capture his lips in a needy and loving kiss. He moans against you, his fingers digging into your hips before slowly standing you up. Neither of you break the kiss as you move. Instead, your hands find their way to his face, one gently cups his jaw while the other pushes his hair out of his eyes. You hum against his lips when he pulls you flush against his body.

Sanji steals kiss after kiss, hungrily chasing after you even as you attempt to speak.

“What did you say?” He says, when he finally has enough of trying to decipher your muffled words.

You smile.

“I said–will you please take me back to the bed?”

The blush on his cheeks worsens considerably, but he nods.

As you begin to settle back onto the bed, Sanji pauses from undoing the buttons that he so haphazardly did up earlier.

“Hey, wait… my food!”

You flick your eyes from Sanji's bare chest to the plate, and then back. You tap your chin, pretending to consider his worry, before grabbing his shirt and pulling him down on top of you.

“We can eat after. Now, are you going to kiss me? Or not?”

He doesn't speak, but he answers your question with his lips nonetheless.

[kurooscopy]

⟢ pairing: kuroo x desi!reader

⟢ genre: fluff

⟢ wc: < 1k

⟢ a/n: this is very selfship coded :33

The kitchen is bustling with too many people and too many voices shouting over each other. It’s manic trying to feed guests at a gathering such as this, but it’s something you’ve grown up around since you were little so it’s normal to be surrounded by so much noise and clamour.

Someone brushes up behind you as you refill platters and serving dishes, hurriedly shouting an apology as they brush back the same way. You roll your eyes good-naturedly and continue with your task, feet a little numb from being on your feet all evening. The kitchen is a little too warm and the steam coming from the pot you stand over isn’t helping matters. You step away to crack open the back door, sighing in relief at the cool breeze that wafts through.

Distantly, you hear a wave of greetings coming from the general direction of the front door, assuming more relatives have arrived to join you for dinner once the rest of the guests leave. That’s how it usually goes. Guests are given priority and family comes after. Men before women. The ones serving eat last. Again, you’ve grown up with these ‘rules’ being applied to every party, every celebration, big or small - and it always feels completely unfair.

Lost in the monotony of your task, an unexpected arm snakes smoothly around your waist and makes you jump. You relax when you feel a familiar warmth press against your back, the scent of his freshly applied cologne silencing the smell of spices that hangs in a heavy cloud around you.

“Hey baby,” Kuroo says, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Oh! I didn’t notice you come in.” Your cheeks warm more from his affection than the heat of the kitchen, a little shy that he’s kissed you so sweetly with your family nearby even if he is your husband.

“I missed you,” he murmurs close to your ear, pressing another kiss to your temple this time.

“It’s only been a few hours, Tetsu!” you giggle, turning to look at him. He shrugs, squeezing at your waist.

“A few hours too many.”

“Go sit down,” you tell him, gently prying his hand from around you. “I’ll make you a plate so that you can eat. You must be hungry.”

He hums in dissatisfaction. “No. I wanna eat with you.”

“You know that won’t be for a while.”

Kuroo smiles tiredly, brushing back a loose strand of your hair. “That’s okay. How about I help out so that we can get this done quicker?” he says, rolling up his sleeves. Your heart warms. Most of the men in your family refuse to lend a hand at events like this. Their upbringing has convinced them that they shouldn’t have to lift a finger so the fact that Kuroo happily offers is special to you. He’s always been happy to lighten your load, the way you do for him. It’s part of the reason why you fell in love with him.

“Okay, fine. But if anyone has something to say about you doing housework-“

“-then I’ll set them straight. Don’t worry sweetheart, you know I’ve always got your back.”

“Mm, I know but my aunt’s a raging bitch,” you whisper. “You know what she’s like.”

“I do and you know I don’t care about anything she says. Let her be bitter.”

You pout as he bumps your hip gently with his and busies himself with the mountain of dishes waiting to be washed. “She already hates our family as it is.”

“And me washing a few plates won’t change that,” he smiles.

“I know, but I just don’t like giving her a reason to talk. She already caused so much drama when we got married.”

“People like her are so unsatisfied with their own lives that the only joy they get comes from causing misery. All her sons are useless and unemployed and the one that isn’t cut her off quicker than she could blink because she wouldn’t stop meddling.” Kuroo fills a glass with water and hands it to you before he starts to stack the dishwasher. You accept it with a quiet word of thanks and take a long sip.

“Karma came for her fast. She’s been nasty to my mum her whole life.”

“Exactly. Let her burn over how you got such an amazing husband from outside.”

You snort and hand him your empty glass. “You make it sound like you’re a stray cat.” He laughs with you and this time, you reach up to kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger just a moment before you draw away with a smile. “You are amazing.”

“I know,” he grins, yelping when you smack his backside with a damp teatowel. A few whoops and whistles come from behind you as your cousins poke their heads through the kitchen door, their teasing remarks making you groan, embarrassed. But then you look over to your husband who shoots you a wink, and it all fades away.

After all, who cares about what people have to say when you have love personified right here beside you?

[kurooscopy]

every time a woman gets a rhinoplasty for her big nose, an angel loses its wings