Soju Kisses | S.hinata

i don't WANT to read smut right now

i WANT to read a passionate, poetic, jaw dropping, tears streaking down my face, heart wrenching, giggle inducing, feet kicking, cringy yet amazing, gorgeous story written by someone who apologizes for english not being their first language(they're the best writers ever) which has 4 chapters and then makes me scream because it hasnt been updated in months and the author is mia

here to remind y'all it's percy jackson's birthday. happy birthday man. you've survived for long enough. go live your life. we stand with you.

Whipped Cream ۶ৎBNHA UNI.AU

—>

‘do not touch.’ -k.b

You scoff at the ridiculous sticky note left on the bottle of whipped cream. Who does he think he is claiming an entire bottle and what the hell could he be using it for ?

It was dark and the kitchen dorms appeared empty, it was also 1am so it figures that everyone would be asleep if not on patrol for the night.

You had a smug look before taking the sticky note off the bottle and popping the cap, your finger gently pressing the top as the whipped cream fell into your mouth.

Once you were done you licked your lips, satisfied with yourself but nearly dropped the bottle when you were met with the bastard himself.

“Tsk, fucking greedy ass.” and it would’ve been more insulting if he wasn’t smiling.

“Says the one with the note on a bottle of whipped cream that’s almost a gallons worth ??”

“Oh yeah, who do you think the note was intended for ?”

And your mouth fell open. YOU ?! He was implying..no.. he KNEW you’d take it, what an ass.

“You know wha-“ and before you could protest his hand came up to your cheek, resting for a moment before he wiped the bottom of your lip and licked his finger with the nastiest grin you’ve ever seen him give.

“Missed a spot.”

—

Needless to say it wasn’t the last time you ate his stuff and he had no intention of getting rid of those sticky notes.

also from earlier

i know in my heart that boyfriend!bakugou is actually a menace when it comes to physical touch. like he cannot stop touching you to save his life. you're sat next to him in class? he's pulled his chair closer to yours so your thighs can touch. you're watching a movie in the common room? he's pulled you onto his lap sometime during it and won't let you go.

it definitely gets annoying when you're in the middle of something, like trying to do your homework and he won't let go of your hand, and then he gets all grumpy and sulks when you have to yank your hand out of his grip.

he's such a baby sometimes.

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“gotta be more careful, sweet girl.”

you glare. “I am careful. but accidents happen.”

percy throws you a look to skepticism before placing his lips over the first bandaid around your middle finger. it’s a blue one with sharks.

then, he goes to the second cut on your index, no bandaid over this as it’s healing. he kisses it nonetheless. and then next, a moderately bigger cut on your thumb— you had tried to cut an apple but slipped drastically.

that one would eventually leave a scar, you were sure of it.

percy gingerly rubs his own thumb over it before pressing his mouth to it additionally. “I’m never letting you cut an apple again.”

your glare returns. “that’s not fair.”

“I’m trying to be chivalrous here, sweet girl, work with me.”

you roll your eyes with a scoff. “yeah, but I’m a grown woman, I can handle it.”

“okay,” percy says unconvincingly with a light nod. “but I don’t want you hurt.”

you sigh. your gaze softens as you meet his green eyes. “I know.”

“yeah? good.” his tone is teasing but his smile is too genuine for you not to return it.

cabin three obtains an intimate, comfortable silence. percy’s gaze falls to your tangled hands, his thumb grazes your cuts with such delicacy you could cry. you bite down on your bottom lip.

which, coincidentally, you also had a cut over. only this time, it was percy who had gave it to you.

you let your own eyes fall to your boyfriend. he appears content as ever. like a golden retriever with a new bone. except he’d always look at you like he was doing so for the first time ever.

that’s despite being together for six years.

“percy,” you whisper, afraid of speaking any louder.

he looks back up at you within an instant. “my sweet girl.”

those damn butterflies…

you shrug faintly. “I love you.”

a smile graces his lips. his eyes, hazy yet sparkling. it reminds you of the glistening sea reflecting off of the summer sun. “I love you, too.”

you blush feverishly and pull your legs up to your chest. your cheek rests against your knee. “to neptune and back?”

percy shakes his head. “not far enough.”

fair enough.

chicken scratches ☆

synopsis : katsuki tries to surprise you...but he's taking too damn long !!

an. merry christmas(if you celebrate) n happy holidays yall !! i love my boyfriend as usual,,btw have yall seen that new hori art ??? dreamy sigh my man so stupid..

cw. itty bitty manga spoilers, but otherwise nun !!

when katsuki manages to hold a pencil again and write with his right hand, it looks absolutely horrendous.

switching from writing with their left hand then back to the right one would've been disorienting for most, and it probably was for him, but he didn't show it much aside from the occasional grumble and scoff at his trembling grip. nothing ever holds him back after all.

you sigh "can i—"

"no. don't look yet." katsuki has his back turned to you, sending you a sharp glare. hunched over his little piece of paper like how he'd hide his page from kaminari's peeking eyes during an exam, always so dramatic. he turns around with a huff and you snort with a roll of your eyes.

you had come over to his room after he’d told you to, mumbling out a quick “come over.” over the phone and hanging up before you could say a word.

and so here you were. waiting.

“katsukiiiiiiii—”

“shut up,” your boyfriend grunts, his scribbling sounds harsher, in a bit more of a rush. “so damn impatient..”

“but i wanna see what you wrote !” you kick your legs up in the air, pouting at his back sitting in his office chair. “i’ve been waiting for decades to see you write with that arm again.”

katsuki scoffs out a snarky laugh “yeah, well how do you think i feel ?” you groan, whining at his dark joke, he laughs again. “just stay put. ‘m..almost done.” he trails off, focusing back on his surprisingly long task.

you do know that despite being able to use his arm again, it had gone slow—surely, but really slowly. then again, he originally wouldn’t have been able to use that arm at all, so you’ll honestly take anything.

but the excitement is getting to you, and you really wanna see what he wrote ! so slowly, surely, you quietly try to sneak the short distance to his desk to peek behind his shoulder. however, your boyfriend has some crazy spider senses.

he sighs “if i turn around and you’re not sittin’ your ass on the bed i’ll—HEY !”

busted. katsuki catches you mid creep, so close to seeing his paper until he swiftly turns in his chair. he reaches out with his left hand, reflexively, and grabs a hold of your arm.

“you can’t ever just—do what you’re fuckin’ told ! knew you were being too damn quiet ! ” he complains between gritted teeth, trying to wrestle you away from him.

“i just—wanna see !” you shriek. when he suddenly remembers he can use his right hand again, and it almost feels nostalgic the way he jams it in your side to tickle you, dropping his pencil in the process. you think you hear it rolling on the floor, but your own noises of surprise overpowered the sound. he’d really gotten better at using that arm again, you could cry if your boyfriend wasn’t actively trying to shove his entire hand inside your ribs and push you away.

during the light scuffle, his hurried movements magically make the paper fly away with a harsh whip of his arm and a gust of wind, you thank every god when you notice it, just a second before he does. you’re half sure the world slowed down as you slide down to the floor and clutch the piece of paper in your grasp like the fate of the world depended on it.

the little piece of paper makes your heart jump, with its crumpled up edges and wonky writing and all.

I love you

both the o’s are too long, his u trails off towards the end and the e looks like he'd written it with the pencil in his mouth. it looks nothing like his usual handwriting.

but it was him, unmistakably, undeniably him and all of him and all of his efforts. all his efforts coming down to this. being able to write i love you and to show you.

your heart does more than jump, it restarts in your chest.

harshly, your flipped over by katsuki. he’s red all the way down to his neck and his eyebrows twitch angrily. but his hands, both his hands are gripping your cheeks hard and pulling at them and you can’t help but laugh.

“little shit. can never jus’ lemme be romantic..” he pouts, pouts like the adorable tryharding asshat he is, and you’re so so happy. your cheeks hurt cus he's tugging at them but his right thumb is digging into your cheek. you can feel the little callous on his middle finger because he holds his pencil with too much pressure on it.

“you’re so adorable.” it tumbles out between a watery laugh before you can stop it, katsuki’s jaw ticks and he gets even redder if that was even possible—he uses his right hand to squish your nose shut mid breath so your ears pop.

“shut it, shut up. ya ruined everything.” ducking down, his teeth make contact with your cheek and your chin knocks against his when you jump with a little scream. "i literally just finished. was just about to hand it to you, but noooo—everythin' has to go your way.." he angrily mumbles into your neck.

you press a kiss to his nape and he stiffens "i'm sorry for ruining your perfect surprise." he scoffs, biting at your shoulder. "i'm really happy though, it was unfortunately very worth it."

"you're a fuckin' fiend." he spits out, and you really can't help but laugh "love you too." you snort out, and his hands, both of them squeeze your sides hard, your cheeks hurt and you can't help but laugh.

airhead jock bf! yuji with you, who has to have things all planned out or you will explode. she will literally plan so meticulously but no matter what, yuji always seems to be the one with his life planned out better than yours. he's got so many away games, he got accepted into a university by his second year in high school, he knows what he's gonna do with his life. you're proud of him but it can be genuinely frustrating sometimes. but whenever you get frustrated, the one who makes you relax is yuji himself - since he's jusat cruising through high school after his acceptance, he has more time to cater to you when he's at school. stressed for a test? he already booked a study room and ordered food. not getting enough sleep? he has a car, and blankets especially for you. overbooked yourself? yuji's got you covered wherever. it is his ultimate goal to get you to relax. life always has a way of working out in the end.

that jungkook reference goes crazy

at ease

wc: 0.3k content warning: time-skip, established relationship, iwaizumi x reader, suggestive, not proofread

⋆ ˙ ⟡ ::.

stressed at the thought of work as you check your emails in bed, your husband's laying beside you with his eyes glued to the TV infront. you can't help but let out a large sigh after reading a message about an upcoming conference meeting you have to attend the next day at work.

you didn't even notice how loud you sighed to be catching iwa's attention, squinting eyes glancing toward your furrowed brows that looked down upon your tiny screen.

"everything okay at work, babe?" peering up, you're immediately lost in his eyes that radiate warmth.

"mhm.. just another conferencing meeting scheduled. late.. again," you replied while shutting your phone off and tossing it into blanket to get work off of your mind. this was iwa and your alone time, why stress about work?

tilting your head, you make contact with the crook iwa's muscular neck, your arm searching for a place to rest as you wrap yours around his lean and built bicep that you like to squish. iwa's tight facial features soften up with a gentle smile as he leans his head on yours, accepting that he's gonna be in this exact position as long as you don't move.

"..you know a good way to destress?" the tone of his voice sounded like he was up to something devious. you can basically hear him smirking once you let out a hm?

"exercising." well, you shouldn't have been surprised. your husband's an athletic trainer after all but obviously you weren't in the mood for exercising when you could melt alongside iwa.

"haha. no," you huffed out.

"i meant another type of exercising that'll help put you at ease," there was that smirk. "like what?"

"i'll kiss your waist and ease your mind."

masterlist here

“You have crazy eyes,” Oikawa says offhandedly, setting a glass down and leaning hard on a wooden table, long legs crossing over each other elegantly.

“I do not,” Iwaizumi retorts. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Mhm,” Oikawa pushes his head into the other man’s line of vision, dodging as Iwaizumi unfolds his arms to make an attempt at pushing him away, his gaze locked on the other side of the deck all the while. “Nothing’s happening, that’s why the vein in your forehead is about to pop. You’d think he’d notice the big dumb guy staring at him this whole time.”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” says Iwaizumi, casually posing his arm to rest on the table, open palm up.

“Maybe he has noticed and he’s just ignoring it?” Oikawa squints, dropping his (prescription, but don’t you dare tell anyone) sunglasses down his nose for dramatic effect. “A braver man than me, then.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Iwaizumi says, but his fingers twitch, not quite a fist and not far from being one. His eyes are an olive orchard burning. As Oikawa said: crazy.

You are: oblivious, blithe, gorgeous. The tops of your shoulders are sun-warmed and you’re swirling a glass of red in your hand, the contented lilt of your smile familiar to him after many nights watching your favorite wine stain your lips. He sees you sway a little, your eyes popping wide as you realize all too quickly that you might be a little further past tipsy then you’d thought, and the bastard you’re talking to puts his hands on you. One on your shoulder, one on your waist to steady you.

Hajime’s always had a penchant for parkour when he’s drunk, and you and he have been taking sips of each other for days now. He slams a palm down on the hard wood, momentarily airborne as he jumps over the table and cuts through the other people standing around to get to you.

“Hey,” he says, grin looking a little feral as he watches the hands on your waist come off. The guy’s movements are jerky, looking at him like what the hell, man? Iwaizumi has no idea why.

“Hi, Haji,” you say, your lips curling into a warm smile. “This is Naoto. He’s from the same place I am, actually.”

“Cool,” Hajime says, extending a hand to shake like he learned at networking mixers at UCI. Naoto stares at him for a second and then takes it cautiously, wincing as Hajime crushes his fingers in his best arm-wrestling champ grip. “Good to meet you.”

Naoto clearly does not think it is good to meet him. He steps back upon release and makes a rushed goodbye to you, citing a group of friends he suddenly needs to find urgently. You smile and wiggle your fingers at him vaguely, already far more focused on the sun setting over the waves past the terrace than you are on whatever is happening between the two of them. Hajime steps up behind you, sliding a hand over your waist, his palm covering the surface area touched by Naoto. You put a soft hand over his, stroking slowly over his calloused knuckles, and hook your other arm back to tug him forward so he’s pressed against your back, bending so he’s cheek-to-cheek with you, watching the water undulate.

“You havin’ a good time?” His voice is a little rough from the clear liquor he and Oikawa were drinking paired with the effort of keeping his voice quiet, his concern just for you.

“Yes, sir,” you say, taking another sip from your glass. You hold it across your chest and he wraps his fingers around the delicate stem, putting his mouth right over the print yours left. “You?”

“Of course,” he says. “It’s beautiful out here. I think Shittykawa got sunburnt on the beach, though.”

“His fault for being pale,” you wave your left hand dismissively. He wants to pin you like a butterfly, your wrist arched gracefully against the darkening sky. “He has all those fancy skin creams to stop it from flaking, too.”

He feels a little bad for abandoning his best friend, but when he turns his head to check on him, the other man has reunited with Makki and Mattsun, who are all clustered together while taking photos of the two of you. Oikawa’s features specifically are spelling out something very smug and that will be very annoying for Hajime later. Iwaizumi concludes that he will probably survive thirty seconds without direct entertainment from him.

“He gets bad flush, too,” he thinks aloud. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“See?” He hums and rubs his thumb over your top where he’s holding you with the right hand, soothing circular patterns. He can almost feel you purring. “I can always tell when you’ve started drinking for the night because Kawa gets red and you start running around and climbing things.”

“I don’t,” he protests, but it dies in his throat. You shake in his arms as you laugh.

“You always do. You tried to climb up my balcony once, remember? You said you could beat the elevator up.”

“I would’ve done it if security hadn’t come out,” he grumbles. You take your glass back and put it on the railing. It’s perilous, but Hajime doesn’t say anything. If it spills over your outfit, he’ll follow you back to the room and help you change.

“When I met you, I didn’t expect you to be the crazy type,” you say, turning so your lips brush his skin as you speak. “You seemed so steady compared to Kawa.”

“Only crazy about you,” he says. You sigh happily and melt back into him. He exhales slowly, a controlled breath, and wonders how a bastard like him got so lucky.