I’m Such A Slut For Casual Intimacy. Like Yesss Rest Your Chin On My Shoulder While We're In Line At

daughter guilt is so real. one moment i'm laughing with my friends, the next i'm thinking about my mom who's home alone and wants to laugh with someone too

“i can do the alphabet in sign language!” eri chirps to you one night, tugging at the bottom of your skirt as she gazes up at you with that sparkle in her eyes she gets when she's about to show you something important.

the city hums softly outside your window. cars in the distance, someone’s dog barking, the occasional clink of a bottle hitting pavement. you’re curled on the couch with your legs tucked beneath you, fingers grazing the hem of the throw blanket, and eri’s settled close, knees bumping yours, her face lit by the soft blue flicker of the tv screen.

your mouth parts into a soft gasp, eyes going round with surprise, delight catching in your throat. “that’s so cool!” you grin, reaching for her instinctively, brushing a hand through her snowy hair. “you should show suki, he’d really like it.”

she nods, mouth stretched into a proud little beam, her arms winding around your leg in a hug, like she wants to melt into your side and stay there forever. “okay! where is he?”

you glance up, eyes flicking toward the hallway without much thought.

“i dunno,” you hum. “i think he’s getting your bedsheets.”

“i’m gonna go find him!” she cheers, letting go of you and running off without another word, small feet padding down the hallway before you can call out a reminder. to be gentle and cautious.

you sink back into the couch with a quiet wince, already imagining the startle that’s coming. katsuki doesn’t wear his hearing aids at home. he says they make him feel alienated, like he’s underwater in his own home. says he prefers the quiet, even when it means he misses footsteps behind him.

down the hall, eri’s palm skims the wall as she turns the corner.

“suki?” she calls out, forgetting he can't hear her.

she finds him with his back to the room, broad shoulders blocking the light from the closet as he reaches for the folded sheets on the top shelf.

she slowly steps over to his spot, tapping his bulgy arm and looking up at him with pride. he jumps, and almost blasts whatever it is coming near him. he knows it's not you, you make sure to knock on the wall or anything just to make yourself known before getting close to him.

it’s not dramatic, not loud, just a sharp inhale as his muscles twitch beneath his skin, the sheets nearly slipping from his hands, turning his head to look down at her in surprise.

“you scared me,” he mutters, voice low, words shaped more from breath than sound.

eri just grins up at him, undeterred. she lifts her right hand, fingers curling and tucking until they make a neat little H. katsuki raises a brow, the closet door creaking as it swings shut behind him.

immediately after, she forms an I with a soft grin

then she follows it with an I, fingers small and steady, her eyes never leaving his. her smile is proud. soft. expectant.

the moment reached him slower than it should have, but she keeps going.

her fingers move carefully, like she’s practiced this a hundred times in her room, mouthing the letters silently as she went. she starts spelling out the alphabet, grinning with pride.

by the time she gets to K, katsuki's kneeling, bringing himself to her level as he sits on his heels so they’re eye to eye. his expression softens in a way only a handful of people ever get to see.

his hand rises— not to stop her, not to fix her hands, not to take over. just to mirror her. to do it with her.

his lips are twitching, not into a smile yet, but close enough. something fond, folded under layers of gruffness and disbelief.

“you learn all that just for me?” he asks, low and rough.

eri nods, both hands flying up now, fingers tangling as she shows him N, then O, like she doesn’t want to waste time answering him out loud.

katsuki exhales like he’s been holding it in since she tapped him, then reaches forward and cups the back of her head gently, thumb brushing through her hair.

“your hair needs to be brushed." he murmurs, like he's trying to escape from the feeling inside of him. he's not even sure what it is, it just feels nice. to have her, this little girl, learn a language for him.

he reaches for the fallen sheets with a smile, a real smile. the kind that pushes up into his eyes and softens all the hard lines around his mouth.

011925. cw | slightly suggestive (?) i hate him (affectionate)

if tsukishima kei learns the full extent of you losing your mind over the minuscule of things with everything he does,

babe, you’re done for.

if he learns that removing his glasses while kissing you makes your stomach do saumersaults, or when he fixes your clothes casually; smoothing down your skirt or adjusting your shirt, hand on your waist. or when he cups your face and squeezes both of your cheeks together, when it shows that he loves the physical touch in ways that feel crude if you say it aloud. in ways that no one else can speak about, makes you so mushy with him. to the point that it makes you sick, head throbbing.

if he learns that you find his jealousy kind of attractive, all cutting and ruthless, snappy. that you're totally not weak in the knees. if he learns that whenever he leans in whenever you speak is the cause of why you feel flustered, when he hums softly in question, tilting his head, or when he just hook you in his arms to get closer.

god. he will take absolute pleasure in pushing those buttons even more—actually, he’d press them with the precision of someone who knows exactly how far he can go to leave you reeling, all while pretending it’s no big deal.

and this is exactly what happens, as expected, but no less frustrated.

when he realizes how much removing his glasses during a kiss messes you up, he’d start doing it slow and methodical, taking his time to set them aside while giving you that piercing look, like he knows exactly what’s coming next. “what, nervous?” he’d ask, leaning in just a fraction, his tone laced with mockery, but his lips soft when they finally meet yours.

those casual touches? forget it. his hands—though he would ask first—roam your body and let them linger around your waist dangerously longer than necessary, you're not making it up now, you know you feel the slight squeezes his does on your skin, letting his fingers graze, just enough to send shivers down your spine.

when he holds your face in one hand, there’s something about how his thumb lingers near your jawline or how he leans in just a little too close. it’s playful, sure, but there’s a tenderness beneath it that leaves you spinning. because he knows. he knows all too well.

it's game over when he finally does this—one arm braced above your head, his whole figure towering over you, casting a shadow which makes him look ten times more insufferable. you cannot breathe.

his lips hover just shy of yours, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath. “do i really make you that nervous?”

"fuck off."

"really? that’s all you’ve got? how original.”

“kei, i swear to—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as his thumb brushes the curve of your jaw, the touch barely there but devastating all the same.

“what? gonna tell me to stop?” the glint in his eyes turns playful, pupils dilated, “you’re all talk, aren’t you?”

your hands twitch at your sides, torn between shoving him away and pulling him closer. “i hate you,” you hiss, but it lacks any real bite.

“sure you do,” he says, his tone dripping with mockery, and then—because of course he does—he closes the infinitesimal gap between you, his lips brushing against yours with infuriating slowness.

he kisses you chastely. it feels so wrong with how he already built so much tension. that this all just a stupid game he can easily control.

there’s a distinct edge of smugness to it, like he’s savoring every second of your undoing. when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, the smirk is still there, lingering at the corners of his mouth.

“still want me to fuck off?” he asks, though he already knows the answer to it.

you can only scoff and roughly smack your lips against his in a solid, and very straightforward reply. your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else.

he relents to you just as easily, this is why he simply can't get enough of you.

my stupid writers block is not making me write properly for the hershey’s kisses mini series so i had to pull this stupid drabble outta my sick ass (coughing loudly as we speak)

Crédits @jing

omg the bodyguard trope is one of my favorites i’m gnawing at the bars of my enclosure PLS MORE

iwaizumi’s leaning up against the passenger side door of his car when you approach, the phone clutched in his hand long forgotten as his eyes carefully begin to rake over your form. 

realistically, you know he’s just doing his job—making sure you’re leaving your date in one piece. but warmth flares in your gut all the same under the weight of his assessing gaze.

(you’d be lying if you said you didn’t pick out this specific red dress for tonight for him, after all.)

he doesn’t bother asking how your date went, because he’s been nearby the entire evening.

“can we stop at that bakery before we head back?” you point a little ways down the street.

for once, iwaizumi doesn’t sigh at your request, but his face remains pinched in annoyance all the same as he pushes off of the black sedan and approaches you.

“shithead could have at least offered you his jacket earlier,” he grumbles, shrugging off his own and draping it over your shoulders before gently placing a hand at the center of your back and nudging you forward.

“it’s not that cold out,” you protest, though the way you shiver at a sudden gust of wind says otherwise.

iwaizumi does sigh at that, arm automatically wrapping around you when you wobble slightly in your heels on the uneven pavement. he keeps you close as you continue to walk.

tucking your face into the warmth of his jacket, you hide the curve of your lips as you inhale the scent of his cologne. 

the thought of brainrotted percy jackson is my current obsession

you slip up in your sparring practice earlier and continue to bash yourself for slipping up. “gods that was so embarrassing” all of a sudden percys hand grabs your shoulder to turn you around and make eye contact. “mama, the past behind you. mama, a million experiences await you.”

“get the fuck off me seaweed brain.”

percy, leader of the unserious nation

1:02am — zayne

zayne felt tired. he feels as if the days of his business trip seemed to drag on for longer than he accounted for. 

usually business trips didn’t bother him, but this time it was different as he was asked by the world’s doctor association to share his findings regarding the rare protocore syndrome that he spent his youth researching and studying for.

of course, he was grateful for the recognition of his work, but if it were up to him, he wouldn’t have travelled thousands of miles away from you just to showcase his findings.

how long has it been? surely it’s been a few weeks, only… a lot more to go. zayne sighs as his green eyes scanned the piles of bulky folders in his hotel room table, each folder almost bursting out with information about the protocore disease. 

the doctor takes out his phone, his demeanor slowly relaxes as he sees his wallpaper containing you winking at the camera, the snowman plushie he caught for you squished against your cheek.

his eyes flit toward the time that read 2:30am. he wonders if you’re huddled up and asleep in linkon, maybe you were thinking of him while you hug the plushies he won for you, maybe you were rereading your previous messages, maybe you were as restless as he is. 

zayne could only sigh as he pushes up his glasses up to his nose. 

the sooner he incorporates the other thesis in his reviews, the sooner he can come home to you. he thinks to himself but he knows that it wasn’t as simple as it sounded as when he gets back home from linkon, surgeries will pile up the moment he clocks in. 

he clicks open his laptop, glasses reflecting the blue light of his device. 

hours were spent typing and reviewing sentences upon sentences and if zayne were being honest, his eyes and head were starting to hurt. he leans back on his chair as he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. 

a knock interrupts his solitude and he doesn’t know whether he should be thankful for it. 

“just a minute.” he says as he stands up, and walks to the door, opening it, expecting greyson to be outside with more findings on the protocore disease. 

the doctor freezes in his tracks as he sees you standing before him, your luggage beside you and a beaming smile plastered on your face. 

“you…” zayne trails off, eyes wide as for once in his life, he does not know what to say. his hand remained frozen on the doorknob. with all the stress he’s been under, he’s convinced that he must be hallucinating you.

“i didn’t expect chansia weather to be this cold.” you say, as if you didn’t just travel halfway across the world to see your boyfriend. 

you looked absolutely beautiful.

“you should’ve given me a warn— zayne?!” you were startled as he pulled you and your luggage in the hotel room. the door clicks shut and his hands were firmly on the side of your shoulders, as if he were analyzing you. 

“surprise?” you couldn’t help but giggle, only to be rendered speechless as zayne says nothing. 

zayne puts a finger under your chin as he tilts it up, staring deep into your eyes as if he were calculating. without any more warning he dips down and slots his lips firmly against yours. 

you let out a surprised noise but almost immediately closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer. 

with that kiss, you could feel zayne’s longingness, his yearning.

he needed this.

after a few seconds you pull away, you see zayne’s eyes still closed, you give his lips a playful peck and that seems to do the trick as he opens his eyes. 

you can see zayne’s tiredness in his green eyes and you unconsciously pout, sympathizing with your boyfriend's fatigue. 

“missed me?” you teased. zayne lets out a huff of laughter as he buries his face on the crown of your head, your figure embraced by him so comfortably. 

you could feel zayne smile as he takes a lungful of your scent.

“you have no idea.”

Bakugo was lying in bed, the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows over his features as he tried to get through a book. You had been trying to get the blondes attention for a while now, but he was completely absorbed in whatever he was reading. You were getting restless, and a little needy.

Without much thought, you crawled over and sat down on his lap, making sure to get as comfortable as possible. He didn’t even glance up immediately, but you could feel his eyes shift toward you when he adjusted his glasses—his eyesight had gotten worse in his twenties, and he needed those glasses more often now.

He finally glanced over the top of the book, red eyes narrowing slightly beneath the glasses. “Yes?”

“Can I feel your boobs, Katsu?” you asked sweetly.

He sighed, long and exasperated, his red eyes already drifting back to the book. “No.”

You pouted instantly, sinking your weight against his chest and letting out a theatrical sigh. “Pleaseeeee?”

Another sigh. More annoyed this time. “Fine,” he muttered, “but only if you don’t call ‘em boobs.”

You grinned, knowing damn well you weren’t done pushing his buttons. “Katsuki, can I feel your titts?”

That got a reaction. His head snapped toward you, brows furrowing in horror. “That’s so much worse than ‘boobs.’ What the fuck is wrong with you? No.”

You rolled your eyes, undeterred, and decided to go full drama. “Good evening, good sir,” you said, voice exaggeratedly polite. “Would you be so kind as to let me feel your glorious pecs?”

That actually made him snort. You caught the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk before he gave up entirely and set the book down on the nightstand.

“I swear to god…” he muttered, shaking his head as he leaned back against the headboard. “You’re such a damn weirdo.”

But he didn’t stop you.

Your hands were on him instantly, slipping up under his shirt. You trailed over the defined lines of his abs before dragging your palms up to his chest. The moment you made contact, you let out a goofy, perverted little giggle, fingers squeezing gently.

“Perv,” he grumbled, letting his head fall back with a sigh.

“You love it,” you said, all smug and cozy as you made yourself at home.

He didn’t deny it.

k.

"say you want love, and i know what that means"

jus some katsuki headcanons (college, uni kats)

★katsuki is not very fond of PDA, but that does not mean that it will hold back in public. If in public he thinks he needs your affection (or simply wants to be close to you) he will approach you and hug you from behind, with his hands around you so that you don't think of moving away. he would also put his hands on your waist or hips to keep you close, just like a hand on your thigh or his arm around your shoulders when you are sitting next to each other. ♥ 

★︎ katsuki loves physical contact, i have no doubt. it is difficult for him to express himself with words, and although he makes an effort to bring you details (such as flowers, letters or gifts) he feels that it is easier to show you his love by keeping you close (when clearly katsuki is a person who pushes others away, unconsciously or consciously), hugging you, holding your waist or with his hand on your thigh. when you let yourself be hugged and pampered by him, or when you hug him from behind, he feels very loved and appreciated, because he thinks that his attitude can scare you, and by doing this you show that you like to stay close to him. ♥ 

★ ︎ i repeat, katsuki is fascinated by physical contact, whenever u are together (that is, all day, every day) u must, no, cross that out, -u have- to be touching each other. once, u two were coming back from the college, it was very sunny and it was too hot to be with his arm on your shoulder or him hugging you, but it doesn't matter, hes always touching you. He grabbed a strand of your hair, he's curling it on his fingers, while you're talking, he's got a finger wrapped in the strap of your backpack just so you doesn't get so far away. ♥ 

★︎ katsuki usually scolds you because according to him you drink very little water, so (as a strategy to get you to drink more) he makes you eat his extremely spicy potatoes. he smiles when he sees you drinking three glasses of water in a row in less than 30 minutes. ♥︎ 

★︎He LOVES spending time with you, is the form he mostly shows his love for you, he will look for any piece of time he could spend with you, whether it is take a nap together after class in his dorm, exercises with you, study with you, listen to music with you, whatever it is he jus wanna be with you. ♥︎