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Izuku and Katsuki fighting who gets to fuck your cunt first but Ochako’s like “you know what, let’s make out with me first” because she’s tired of the bickering and wants them to get straight to the point
You’re then sandwiched between Ochako and Izuku, her hands all over your tits and creeping down your cunt to help him make you reach your height 🤤 then comes her sitting on your face while Katsuki now gets his turn (with Izuku taking notes since Katsuki can get too mean and rough very easily), alternatively Katsuki can fuck you from behind while you eat her out at the same time
Now I wonder if she’ll be nice or mean while it’s your turn on the cuck chair aka now Izuku/Katsuki gets to fuck her now that you got too tired 😏😏😏😏😏
Are we running with the dom!Ochako/bratty sub! Ochako train, dear Loonylings?
Ok would this be silly to say I find it adorable when ATLA fic writers used Zuko’s daughter Izumi from TLOK as the baby name in Zuko fics? Like it’s from the times Izumi’s still a baby + the mom’s ambiguous atm so you have the freedom
-💠
No it’s not silly!! I get what you mean. I used it too in a Zuko fic a while ago. I think it’s nice how we don’t forget her existence and refer to her in our fics :D
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giving katsuki head with lip liner / lip stick on and it leaves marks all ober 👁️ 👁️ 👀 i love you 👀
lipstick stamps with bf!katsuki bakugou at a party 18+ MDNI!!!
“fuck, haaah— s-slow down, fuck!” katsuki’s palm meets your forehead, trying to stop the hungry bobbing of your head to and fro, lips engulfing the whole length of his cock over and over again. “t-they’re gonna hear if you don’t slow—”
your spit-glossed lips pop! when you throw your head back, only to glare up into your boyfriend’s ruby eyes. “well duh, of course they’ll hear if you keep bitching at me,” you quip. “now shut up, i’m not ruining my lip combo for you for nothing.”
katsuki gazes down then, at the bright colored kiss stamps on along his v-line and pelvis, the lipstick rim you left at the base of his cock, throbbing with need at the loss of contact. what he hates most is that you’re right. it was supposed to be a chill house party at eijirou’s place, but you had been teasing him the whole drive there, and seeing you dance with mina earlier had only made things worse.
he was supposed to fix your attitude, but the moment the tight heat of your throat swallowed his throat, he knew he has lost. “and if we keep wasting time arguing,” you were still yapping away, “they’re gonna—”
“stop fucking wasting time then.”
his hand quickly moves to the back of your head to push, successfully shutting you up with his fat girth. you splutter at the sudden invasion, but then you smile, breathing through your nose to fit every inch in your mouth. katsuki rests back against the bathroom door, free arm coming up to cover his face, chest heaving as he lets out the pretties huff n’ puffs.
the corners of your mouth are stained with lipstick smudge and spit, eyes wide an teary from the effort of fitting all of him in your throat. if katsuki were to look at you right now, he’s sure he would cum on the spot. instead he grits his teeth, hissing when you suck on his tip, then press pretty kisses over the underside of his dick before you’re slurping! him whole again.
and he makes that mistake then, looking down at his pretty girl on her knees, cheeks hollowed and stuffed full of his cock. “oh, fuck, ngh—!” and poor katsuki can only resist you for so long, his body locking up before his hips uncontrollably jerk forward, and he’s spilling thick wads of his cum right on your tongue. you keep milking him until his cock is too sensitive, only because you love to hear that little whine he makes every time.
when you finally pull away, he’s all flushed and dazed trying his best to regain his composure as fast as possible. katsuki helps you back up on your feet before fixing his pants, not even caring to wipe away the colorful mess you left behind.
“you get back to the others,” you chirp, waving him off as you stop in front of the large mirror. “i’m just gonna re-do my lip combo, ‘kay? don’t miss me too much…and oh, try not to look too much like you just got some bomb ass head,” you grin, watching him roll his eyes before he steps out of the bathroom.
┊┊a/n. here's a very short one bc i have work today :( hi anon 👀ilyt👀
summary: Aang only wanted a peaceful training session. You had very different plans.
warnings: fluff, suggestive content, established relationship, reader is down bad, sexual references, soft Aang, mutual pining, flirting, teasing, implied intimacy, a bit smutty, MDNI;
word count: 0,6k
You watch the way his muscles flex then relax, the way his body moves with the fluidity of wind itself. Sweat rolls off his chest and forehead as he trains, each motion steady and precise.
Aang has always been a devoted man.
To you. To the world. To his training sessions that are almost sacred to him. That’s how he keeps his discipline. That’s how the monks have taught him since he was a kid. He often used training to clear his mind, and it was also one of the moments in which he could let go.
Everytime he trains, he is so attentive and focused. So invested in the moment.
Just like when you two make love.
Oh, and the grunts he makes every time he strains too hard or puts too much force — low and rough — they don’t help at all. They make you completely disregard the book that’s been sitting in your lap for the past 20 minutes.
Your mind already wanders far, far away from those pages and goes straight to you leaving scratches on his back, while he buries himself deep inside you, pulling out the most obscene sounds from you,
And before you can even stop yourself—
“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”
You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.
Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.
There’s a long silence from his side.
Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.
“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.
“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.
Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.
“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”
You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.
“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.
He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.
“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”
“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.
Your question makes him pause.
Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.
“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.
He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.
Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.
“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”
Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.
Yeah. The weakest.
“Lead the way,” he finally nods, quieter now, while walking towards his glider to pick it up since his dignity was nowhere to be found.
summary: Aang only wanted a peaceful training session. You had very different plans.
warnings: fluff, suggestive content, established relationship, reader is down bad, sexual references, soft Aang, mutual pining, flirting, teasing, implied intimacy, a bit smutty, MDNI;
word count: 0,6k
You watch the way his muscles flex then relax, the way his body moves with the fluidity of wind itself. Sweat rolls off his chest and forehead as he trains, each motion steady and precise.
Aang has always been a devoted man.
To you. To the world. To his training sessions that are almost sacred to him. That’s how he keeps his discipline. That’s how the monks have taught him since he was a kid. He often used training to clear his mind, and it was also one of the moments in which he could let go.
Everytime he trains, he is so attentive and focused. So invested in the moment.
Just like when you two make love.
Oh, and the grunts he makes every time he strains too hard or puts too much force — low and rough — they don’t help at all. They make you completely disregard the book that’s been sitting in your lap for the past 20 minutes.
Your mind already wanders far, far away from those pages and goes straight to you leaving scratches on his back, while he buries himself deep inside you, pulling out the most obscene sounds from you,
And before you can even stop yourself—
“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”
You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.
Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.
There’s a long silence from his side.
Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.
“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.
“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.
Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.
“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”
You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.
“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.
He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.
“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”
“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.
Your question makes him pause.
Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.
“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.
He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.
Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.
“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”
Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.
Yeah. The weakest.
“Lead the way,” he finally nods, quieter now, while walking towards his glider to pick it up since his dignity was nowhere to be found.
summary: Aang only wanted a peaceful training session. You had very different plans.
warnings: fluff, suggestive content, established relationship, reader is down bad, sexual references, soft Aang, mutual pining, flirting, teasing, implied intimacy, a bit smutty, MDNI;
word count: 0,6k
You watch the way his muscles flex then relax, the way his body moves with the fluidity of wind itself. Sweat rolls off his chest and forehead as he trains, each motion steady and precise.
Aang has always been a devoted man.
To you. To the world. To his training sessions that are almost sacred to him. That’s how he keeps his discipline. That’s how the monks have taught him since he was a kid. He often used training to clear his mind, and it was also one of the moments in which he could let go.
Everytime he trains, he is so attentive and focused. So invested in the moment.
Just like when you two make love.
Oh, and the grunts he makes every time he strains too hard or puts too much force — low and rough — they don’t help at all. They make you completely disregard the book that’s been sitting in your lap for the past 20 minutes.
Your mind already wanders far, far away from those pages and goes straight to you leaving scratches on his back, while he buries himself deep inside you, pulling out the most obscene sounds from you,
And before you can even stop yourself—
“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”
You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.
Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.
There’s a long silence from his side.
Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.
“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.
“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.
Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.
“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”
You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.
“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.
He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.
“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”
“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.
Your question makes him pause.
Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.
“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.
He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.
Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.
“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”
Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.
Yeah. The weakest.
“Lead the way,” he finally nods, quieter now, while walking towards his glider to pick it up since his dignity was nowhere to be found.
summary: Aang only wanted a peaceful training session. You had very different plans.
warnings: fluff, suggestive content, established relationship, reader is down bad, sexual references, soft Aang, mutual pining, flirting, teasing, implied intimacy, a bit smutty, MDNI;
word count: 0,6k
You watch the way his muscles flex then relax, the way his body moves with the fluidity of wind itself. Sweat rolls off his chest and forehead as he trains, each motion steady and precise.
Aang has always been a devoted man.
To you. To the world. To his training sessions that are almost sacred to him. That’s how he keeps his discipline. That’s how the monks have taught him since he was a kid. He often used training to clear his mind, and it was also one of the moments in which he could let go.
Everytime he trains, he is so attentive and focused. So invested in the moment.
Just like when you two make love.
Oh, and the grunts he makes every time he strains too hard or puts too much force — low and rough — they don’t help at all. They make you completely disregard the book that’s been sitting in your lap for the past 20 minutes.
Your mind already wanders far, far away from those pages and goes straight to you leaving scratches on his back, while he buries himself deep inside you, pulling out the most obscene sounds from you,
And before you can even stop yourself—
“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”
You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.
Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.
There’s a long silence from his side.
Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.
“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.
“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.
Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.
“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”
You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.
“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.
He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.
“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”
“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.
Your question makes him pause.
Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.
“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.
He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.
Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.
“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”
Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.
Yeah. The weakest.
“Lead the way,” he finally nods, quieter now, while walking towards his glider to pick it up since his dignity was nowhere to be found.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
summary: Aang only wanted a peaceful training session. You had very different plans.
warnings: fluff, suggestive content, established relationship, reader is down bad, sexual references, soft Aang, mutual pining, flirting, teasing, implied intimacy, a bit smutty, MDNI;
word count: 0,6k
You watch the way his muscles flex then relax, the way his body moves with the fluidity of wind itself. Sweat rolls off his chest and forehead as he trains, each motion steady and precise.
Aang has always been a devoted man.
To you. To the world. To his training sessions that are almost sacred to him. That’s how he keeps his discipline. That’s how the monks have taught him since he was a kid. He often used training to clear his mind, and it was also one of the moments in which he could let go.
Everytime he trains, he is so attentive and focused. So invested in the moment.
Just like when you two make love.
Oh, and the grunts he makes every time he strains too hard or puts too much force — low and rough — they don’t help at all. They make you completely disregard the book that’s been sitting in your lap for the past 20 minutes.
Your mind already wanders far, far away from those pages and goes straight to you leaving scratches on his back, while he buries himself deep inside you, pulling out the most obscene sounds from you,
And before you can even stop yourself—
“Did you know you grunt the same way when we’re having sex?”
You suddenly speak, breaking the silence of the room.
Aang’s arms freeze mid-motion. His glider slips right out of his hands, clattering to the ground and sliding a few meters away with a loud thud. His body stays suspended in that awkward, strained position with his legs apart, torso turned halfway.
There’s a long silence from his side.
Your soft chuckle makes him turn his head towards you. His eyes are half-lidded now, breath uneven, chest rising and falling a little faster than before.
“You can’t say that,” he sighs, straightening up slowly, as he exhales a deeper breath, trying to recover his composure.
“But it’s true,” you shrug, casually closing your book as if you hadn’t just wrecked his entire focus.
Aang lets out a quiet, disbelieving breath through his nose.
“Thank you for being truthful,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm, keeping himself from rolling his eyes. “Now I can’t focus anymore.”
You suppress your smile as you set the book aside and stand, stretching lightly, completely unbothered.
“We can do another type of training if you want,” you say, eyes slowly dragging over his form.
He frowns slightly, catching your tone immediately.
“No, I still have a lot of energy and—”
“What? You think I can’t take it?” you interrupt, smiling now, challenging.
Your question makes him pause.
Aang exhales, looking away for a second like he’s trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s already slipping through his fingers. Or he never really had it to begin with.
“You really like to push me,” he says softly, shaking his head, voice gentler like always. He looks at you like he already knows he’s lost this argument.
He knew it wasn’t a good idea to let you keep him company during these moments, but Aang could never really say no to you.
Even the Avatar is a weak man when it comes to his lover.
“And you let me every time,” you remind him, stepping closer just slightly. “So let’s train together?”
Aang exhales through his nose, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he looks to the side, clearly trying to hide it but failing miserably.
Yeah. The weakest.
“Lead the way,” he finally nods, quieter now, while walking towards his glider to pick it up since his dignity was nowhere to be found.
another tsukishima and yamaguchi fighting over reader fic
warnings. thirst. minors DNI
content. 2.5k words || college au || bubbly!naive!reader || messy love triangle || nonexistent boundaries || jealous!touchy!tsukki || cramped booth seating || PDA || canonically bully-adjacent!tsukki || confessions, flirting, and almost-kissing || lots of non-explicit touching
"Soo tired!"
You stretch tall, hands reaching up to the ceiling as your trio enters your small campus café. The light pours through your splayed fingertips and for a moment, there's peace, until you get a small jab to ribs.
"Ow!" You mostly warn. You swat hard at Kei, making progress towards your favorite booth in the back.
"Ughhh!! Do we seriously have to study every day?"
Yamaguchi gives you a warm, apologetic smile on behalf of both of them, "I know, but with midterms coming up, we won't regret it. It's an investment."
You know better than to ask what how investments are relevant, because Kei's already stiff in the shoulders with the desire to tease you about your poor grades again.
The only reason he keeps his comments to himself this time is because he just stopped talking shit about your failing English paper that had fallen from your open bag, minutes ago. He'd be damned before he made the same joke twice in a row.
He gets around it anyway, "Maybe if (Y/n) knew how to use the zipper on her bag, she'd know what an investment is."
"Tsukki," Is Tadashi's resounding groan.
It's practically his catchphrase. You wish you could focus enough to count how many times he does that throughout the day, because you're sure 'Tsukki' would be his #1 most-spoken word.
Kei wore a grin you could hear better than you could see. And it was always audible when he teased.
Tadashi takes a seat first and you follow soon after. As you get settled, you accidentally place your palm atop his and you both pull away quick, warm, and unsure- until Kei also takes that side. He jams your body tight between the both of them and the adjustment is difficult.
"Ow-!!"
Your arms don't even have enough room; you have to hold them out in front. You put them to good use, slapping the blond's long legs.
"Hello?" You struggle, and grunt, and wiggle, and... he's unbothered. You're dealing less damage than a gnat.
"Whaaa-t?" He groans, "We've got more coming."
"So you can-?," Tadashi takes a breath and has to readjust, smushed against the wall. He tries to settle his nerves. It's unsuccessful as he snaps, "Can't you sit over there until they show up?"
They share a loaded glance over your head.
"Nahh." Kei readjusts and pushes an inconspicuously strong leg against you so he can enjoy more room, "Don't feel like it."
Your knees clack together and you shoulder him in return, digging into his ribs. He plucks his arm up and over your shared booth seat. It successfully babygirl's both you and Tadashi.
It's a tiring endeavor that you soon find isn't worth it, because he will not budge.
There were worse places to be, but Kei's bony elbow and the keys in Tadashi's pocket are something short of comfortable.
You point to a new drink advertisement on a folded, upright menu, "Y'think that's any good? Should I get it?"
"If you get it, I wanna try it," Tadashi comments, flipping through your textbook to find the chapter you stopped on in class today.
"'Scuse meee," You turn to Kei.
He's slouched back, arms half-crossed, scrolling his phone, his headphones already on.
You sigh through your nose.
The feeling on your palms pressing into his sweater, your knee sliding between his parted thighs, your breath breezing past the side of his face, makes him stiffen. He quickly readjusts his headphones. He sits up, eyes rapidly scouring you, pink tinging his pretty, slim features.
"Whaaat?" Your face is about four inches from his, and your other hand flies to his arm for stability as you wobble, "I said excuse me!"
All too quickly, you've stumbled out on the other side of him.
He mutters, "Dumbass..." And earns your cute little tongue stuck out at him, in return.
Amber eyes track your skip down the cafe to the counter-- how your skirt sways and all that peppy, simple energy. You do it again in line when you catch him watching you. Cute.
There's no hiding how long he looks over his shoulder at you, nor his explicit thoughts from Tadashi, who's busy burning holes into the side of his stupid, blond head.
"Tch," He rolls his eyes all the way into his skull when he finally sits forward in his seat again. He could feel the heat. There was hardly even a need to confirm it, anymore.
Everybody on the team. Everyone in their class (who cared enough) knew. You knew. Kei was not alone in peddling around for Tadashi to grow some balls and make a fucking move already. Afternoons of classmates: lingering in the door when, without fail, Tadashi would escort you to practice. Fellow teammates: pausing their conversations to get a glimpse of your hug as you parted ways to change. Kei: at his wit's end with these study sessions that bubbled, teeming, with opportunity, but reliably fizzled out into nothing.
There were many eyes on you, all the time, searching, scanning, for any signs of a confession happening. Selfish with the need to see it themselves but nonetheless supportive.
He spares his freckled friend, at last, a tiny look, "Relax. She's getting you a drink."
Tadashi is extra snappy. He's not just talking about the seasonal advertisement as he goes on to correct him:
"She's getting her own drink. I'll try it. You could also easily try it, Tsukki."
"Don't wanna try it." Kei mutters, arms crossing over his tingly chest again, "I want my own."
Tadashi shifts, exaggerated, and slaps an arm on the back of the booth, his whole body turned totally towards his friend. It's not like he would ever do anything, but intimidation was a rare thing on his usually mild temperament. Kei had been acting a bit like a toddler all day and Tadashi was returning it in his own way, sporting a tired-parent tone.
"Why don't you get up and get- your- own?"
Kei said nothing. But his icy stare said, quite clearly, 'I want yours.'
"'Scuse meee," You sing to Kei again.
He turns, slow, like it pains him, or is perhaps the most inconvenient favor he's ever done, by sticking his legs out in the aisle to let you through. If Tadashi wants to challenge him, Kei had an ego to protect and a point to prove.
There's an large, elaborate drink in your hands. You've got a bit of whipped cream on your chin already, and Kei -broody- misses his chance to bring it up as you feel for it and wipe your face clean.
It's a tight squeeze, still.
The outside of your thigh brushes his shoulder. Your skirt catches and lifts a little on the material.
You pay it no mind, but it's all Kei can do to collect himself before he resets. He lingers, seconds after you're seated, with his legs still in the aisle and his nose filled with the sweetness of your perfume. It's so easy.
He affixes his headphones, first, and turns to once again squish the two of you in. Harder this time. He ignores all ensuing complaints.
If only. Maybe his bouncing leg with speed this hellish torture up. Literally forcing you together.
It does succeed in making you lean into Tadashi. You can tell Kei is in a mood today and his uniform is scratchy on your bare leg.
The new order was better than your usual. You're extra satisfied. Less bummed about the prospect of spending time at the cafe today now that you've been somewhat compensated for the usually dry and fruitless effort of studying.
"Tada-shii-!! Mmm, it's soo good!" You hold the straw near to his lips, so that he has to sip it from your hands, "Here, try it- try!"
You play Keepaway when he reaches to hold it himself twice, flustered. They're both being sensitive and it makes you squint at him, calculating.
"Mm-mm, you'll drink too much of it..." You mumble, and press it closer, "Here."
His eyes bounce from the straw to your expectant face. He's drinking out of your hands with very little convincing; you're into it. It's kind of like feeding a small, timid animal. You bite back the giggly Good job and desire to coo at him like a bunny, or a cat.
Dark, thick, long eyelashes from this angle are so pretty. His complexion that was healthy. Sunkissed, athletic, and coated in an explosion of specks. Killer smile.
"I like your freckles..." Spills out, and makes him choke.
You forgot he doesn't.
"Sorry, sorry!"
You wince and yank out a bunch of napkins from the holder across the table. He has no choice but to accept your help and try to make a graceful recovery, but it's hard to come across as unaffected when now his lap is wet and your flippant comment is bouncing off the walls of his skull.
"Nice," Kei snorts, genuine laughter behind the back of his hand.
It is pretty funny, so you fail to hide your own giggles, and Tadashi gets all shy again.
What is truly funny is the two of you needing to exit the booth in order for him to get out, so he can clean up in the restroom. It's a clamber, a clumsy endeavor, with everyone stumbling out.
"It's okayyy!" You call to Tadashi. It doesn't help.
You don't have high hopes for the café soap, tap water, and electric hand dryer on his pants. He'll probably have to take them somewhere and live with the stain on his crotch for a few hours.
You share a rare look of amusement with Kei, because 1) you're often not left alone and 2) you often don't find the same things funny. This was a particularly odd exception.
You both dip your heads away. Small smiles and quiet giggles make Kei polite enough to clean up the mess you were responsible for.
"I got it."
He leans over you with no more words. He's lacking in his usual shittiness. He smells nice, but you push that all the way to the back of your mind and try to pretend like you never noticed.
The reach from his long limbs makes his position not a huge deal, but you're still warm at how he grips the wood right behind your head. You 'have' to stare at his arm while he carefully sops up the mess of your drink. You're partial to being a bit higher than him. Or, maybe it was the fact that he was doing you a favor. You don't care. You aren't in a rush to find out.
He acts like he doesn't feel your uneven breath flutter across his skin.
When you turn, because you can see him twitching, your eyes stop on his cleaning hand. He makes the napkins look very tiny.
"So big..." Falls from your lips.
He bites his cheek and looks away to hide how much he likes that. You're staring at his fingers, so his choice to take a second is nonconsequential.
Soon he's done and places all the napkins he used wadded up, back on the table to throw away later. He sits up, but doesn't turn away.
It's so easy. You are so. Easy.
Kei keeps his smile under his palm as he rests his elbow on the table, and flips his free hand palm-up, pressing the back of it into your lap as an offering.
"You've got a crush on him, don't you?"
You squirm, hesitant to take his touch and to answer his uncalled for, yet informed question. He can't help himself. You're too fun to tease.
"Do'y'want me to leave?"
"N-o..."
"Do'y'want me to tell him?"
"No," You're fidgeting just the right amount, toying with the tips of his fingers. He's got you where he wants you and he's where he wants to be.
You send a chill up through his arm as your touch skips across the lines in his palm. He shifts, nostrils flared.
It's not shy, he's not avoidant; it's just as conversational as everything else he's said today:
"Y'know I like you?"
See, Tadashi? It's so easy that even he can do it.
You pause. You're unsure what to do with that, and assume he's joking, until you feel his hand slide up into your hairline while you're busy searching his sincere expression. The 'Are you serious?' dies before it gets past your teeth.
His thumb is caressing the side of your face. It's a sensation that simplifies, dulls, everything else. With it, he gets you laser-focused on him.
Just the two of you. It rarely is this way, isn't it? Your heart is quickening and you truly look at him for the first time. He's got blond eyelashes. His glass are a bit crooked, when he presses his jaw into his hand like that. He's beautiful. He's not lying.
"Stop playing," You go to pull away, but he's rough with the angle to grip your roots and desire to keep you still. Just for a moment. He wouldn't hurt you, but he is selfish.
There's tension in the side of his face that you can see.
You like Kei. You want him around. You like the way he feels, right now.
But what you Really like is the fact that he's so direct.
"M'not joking. I do."
He knows he'll lose you eventually to his best friend.
You don't care much for quick-wittedness and sarcasm, or sick blocks, or the extra height he boasts about. You want- and deserve- somebody just as sweet as you.
Yet, for some reason, he can't roll over and let the Nice Guy win. On some level, he's certain that he's doing your future relationship a favor by making things rocky and interesting now.
Tadashi was fighting so much harder than he would've ever had to in order to win your affections.
"Tired of not saying it," He sighs.
His grip is soft, but your body feels drawn in, as if he's capable of generating a gravitational force. You don't realize that it's because you areleaning.
His eyes sink lower to your lips.
You want somebody to take your weight. Your heavy, beating heart. You had been stuck waiting around for a confession. Now you got one.
"You..." You run out of breath after just one word and your face flashes hot.
He's close.
You still don't wiggle away. You even hold your breath, and your lips are just barely sticking to one another before a heavy textbook slams onto the cafe table.
The awful shared flinch means his fingers get stuck and you're both left looking flushed, horribly guilty, and attempting to fish one of his adjustable rings from one messy lock of hair.
Kageyama's low, disgusted mutter: "Ugh... I didn't peg you for a pervert..."
The late company would've been a welcome sight three minutes ago, but all it does is throw a wrench into a track you didn't realize you were speeding down.
"Take that back, dumbass."
"Huh?? Like Hell I will! What were you doing?"
"None of your damn business, Tobio."
"Don't say my name like that!"
As those two get into it, you spiral in what was Tadashi's seat, fingertips pressing against your bottom lip. You're zoning out hard.
"Mm!" Hinata is helping himself to your drink across the table, "This is so good! Is this new?"
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hear me out...freakzuku with a bunny hybrid gf...can mister man handle allat🤨. OR...bunny hybrid freakzuku...OR...BUNNY HYBRID FREAKZUKU WITH BUNNY HYBRID READER...good lawd...the sex would be nasty as hell. reader's punani strong as hell.
-🧁 who lowkenuinely feels a lil lazy with this blurb
Eyyyy I have been wondering where you were loca
No intro today???
The bunny hybrid thingy definitely fits Izuku RAAAAAH!!! honestly maybe both izuku and reader would be bunny hybrids… and yk what they say about bunnies right 👁️👄👁️
i hope everything is okay anon, no worries about being lazy, i’m lazy too 🥲🥲🥲
hyping bf!katsuki up with cringe quotes while he’s at the gym
source idea: @/joseandkatherine on tiktok
“go hard or go home,” you say as you step closer to the bench he’s on. you try to keep a straight face as katsuki pushes through his set on the bench press.
he’s lying back, hands locked on the bar, lowering it with control before pressing it up again.
“go home?— i just got here,” he grunts, arms shaking slightly under the weight.
you ignore him completely.
“no pain no gain, remember that, king.”
“what—”
“you are your only competition,” you continue as he gives you a side look mid-rep.
“the hell?” he mutters, steadying his breathing as he lowers the bar again, elbows bending in a line.
“don’t stop when you’re tired. stop when you’re done. that’s how you get to the top.”
“i’m already at the top?”
“train insane or remain the same.”
“seriously, shut up, i can’t concentrate,” his frown deepens as he finishes a rep and racks the bar for a second, exhaling hard through his nose before resetting his grip.
“you gotta use your weakness as power, katsuki,”
“the fuck? i don’t have a weakness—” he snaps a bit louder than intended, and a few people nearby glance over.
he notices the stares and their whispers, letting out a sharp breath.
“these damn extras keep lookin’ and talkin—”
“the lion doesn’t concern himself with the opinions of a sheep,” you say, completely serious, like it’s normal gym advice.
his head snaps towards you, giving you a baffled, almost offended look while sitting up slightly on the bench.
“what is your problem? stop being so cringe.”
“no katsuki, listen to me… only justice will bring peace.”
“what? this ain’t avatar.”
“it could be… it could be,” you say, nodding like you believe it.
he stares at you for a second, then drags a hand down his face.
“I’m never taking you to the gym with me ever again.”