“stop watching that shit,” bf!katsuki groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. “you’ve seen it at least twelve times.”
“katsuki, i’m watching it for research purposes.”
“research, my ass. you’re staring at my chest the whole time.” he points at the screen. “i see how your eyes drift, you pervert.”
you gasp, placing a dramatic hand over your chest.
“excuse you!? i take this ad very seriously, just so you know.”
a smile threatens to break across your face, but you fight it.
“oh yeah?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips as well. “what’s the ad about then?”
you immediately freeze.
“ugh— it’s about…” your eyes dart to the screen. “uh…”
nothing. your brain comes up completely blank.
a second passes. then an idea hits.
“you don’t know your own ad, katsuki?” you fire back. “that’s so unprofessional.”
his smirk vanishes.
“hah?” he lifts his head, staring at you in disbelief. “what kind of comeback is that?”
“it’s a valid question.”
“no, it’s not!”
“it is.”
“you’re full of shit.”
a laugh slips out before you can stop it.
“sounds like someone doesn’t know his own ad.”
his eye twitches.
“don’t turn this against me.” he points at you accusingly. “give me that phone.”
“nope.”
“give it.”
“make me.”
the second the words leave your mouth, you regret them. his grin is immediate.
“oh, now you’ve done it.”
“katsuki—”
he lunges across the couch.
“no— katsuki!!”
you squeal, nearly dropping your phone as you scramble away. he grabs for it while you twist out of reach, both of you laughing and shoving each other around the cushions.
“hand it over!”
“never!”
“you watched it twelve times!”
“research purposes!”
“liar!” he barks, already trying to pry the phone from your hands while you laugh again.
a/n: nobody is watching that damn ad for the product he's selling. tags: @tokkushin @kamislop
“stop watching that shit,” bf!katsuki groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. “you’ve seen it at least twelve times.”
“katsuki, i’m watching it for research purposes.”
“research, my ass. you’re staring at my chest the whole time.” he points at the screen. “i see how your eyes drift, you pervert.”
you gasp, placing a dramatic hand over your chest.
“excuse you!? i take this ad very seriously, just so you know.”
a smile threatens to break across your face, but you fight it.
“oh yeah?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips as well. “what’s the ad about then?”
you immediately freeze.
“ugh— it’s about…” your eyes dart to the screen. “uh…”
nothing. your brain comes up completely blank.
a second passes. then an idea hits.
“you don’t know your own ad, katsuki?” you fire back. “that’s so unprofessional.”
his smirk vanishes.
“hah?” he lifts his head, staring at you in disbelief. “what kind of comeback is that?”
“it’s a valid question.”
“no, it’s not!”
“it is.”
“you’re full of shit.”
a laugh slips out before you can stop it.
“sounds like someone doesn’t know his own ad.”
his eye twitches.
“don’t turn this against me.” he points at you accusingly. “give me that phone.”
“nope.”
“give it.”
“make me.”
the second the words leave your mouth, you regret them. his grin is immediate.
“oh, now you’ve done it.”
“katsuki—”
he lunges across the couch.
“no— katsuki!!”
you squeal, nearly dropping your phone as you scramble away. he grabs for it while you twist out of reach, both of you laughing and shoving each other around the cushions.
“hand it over!”
“never!”
“you watched it twelve times!”
“research purposes!”
“liar!” he barks, already trying to pry the phone from your hands while you laugh again.
a/n: nobody is watching that damn ad for the product he's selling. tags: @tokkushin @kamislop
“stop watching that shit,” bf!katsuki groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. “you’ve seen it at least twelve times.”
“katsuki, i’m watching it for research purposes.”
“research, my ass. you’re staring at my chest the whole time.” he points at the screen. “i see how your eyes drift, you pervert.”
you gasp, placing a dramatic hand over your chest.
“excuse you!? i take this ad very seriously, just so you know.”
a smile threatens to break across your face, but you fight it.
“oh yeah?” he asks, a smirk tugging at his lips as well. “what’s the ad about then?”
you immediately freeze.
“ugh— it’s about…” your eyes dart to the screen. “uh…”
nothing. your brain comes up completely blank.
a second passes. then an idea hits.
“you don’t know your own ad, katsuki?” you fire back. “that’s so unprofessional.”
his smirk vanishes.
“hah?” he lifts his head, staring at you in disbelief. “what kind of comeback is that?”
“it’s a valid question.”
“no, it’s not!”
“it is.”
“you’re full of shit.”
a laugh slips out before you can stop it.
“sounds like someone doesn’t know his own ad.”
his eye twitches.
“don’t turn this against me.” he points at you accusingly. “give me that phone.”
“nope.”
“give it.”
“make me.”
the second the words leave your mouth, you regret them. his grin is immediate.
“oh, now you’ve done it.”
“katsuki—”
he lunges across the couch.
“no— katsuki!!”
you squeal, nearly dropping your phone as you scramble away. he grabs for it while you twist out of reach, both of you laughing and shoving each other around the cushions.
“hand it over!”
“never!”
“you watched it twelve times!”
“research purposes!”
“liar!” he barks, already trying to pry the phone from your hands while you laugh again.
a/n: nobody is watching that damn ad for the product he's selling. tags: @tokkushin @kamislop
Aang won't tell you this but he thinks that kissing you is as instinctual as breathing. When dawn breaks, the sun climbing past the mountain peaks, the first thing he does when he wakes up is roll over to kiss you. He'll tug you back into his chest if you had shifted through the night, his strong arm wrapping around you like a band effectively trapping your sleep-warm body as close to his as humanly possible. Each morning, without fail, starts with a sweet trail of kisses, beginning at your temple, moving down to your cheek, and skimming along your jawline just before he reaches your neck. His face slots into the junction of it like a puzzle piece, his breath warm and lips tender as he mumbles a drowsy "Good morning."
After his morning meditation under the juniper tree, his smile is sunbeam bright when he meets you at the back doorstep. Slender fingers wrap around the steaming mug of tea you hold out to him, he sighs happily because it's always made just the way he likes, semi-sweet and very fragrant. His free hand curls into the fabric of your lounge tunic, palm like a brand on your hip as he kisses your forehead in thanks.
On the days when there just isn't enough time for him to make breakfast with you, the minute you set his plate down in front of him, he's catching your hand and holding it by the wrist to kiss from the heel of your palm to the tips of your fingers. Aang always holds your gaze when he thanks you for feeding him, needing you to see how grateful he is.
For the days he can afford to linger a little longer, he'll stand behind you, arms at home around your torso and lips pressed to the nape of your neck. Of course, he has to adjust his stance or bend his head to reach, but he doesn't mind, not even when you tell him he'll end up looking like a cooked shrimp if he isn't careful. Sometimes there are playful kisses, the ones he'll demand to give you in exchange for your towel he purposely snatched while you were showering. You let him, always, and once he's had his fill for the moment, he'd grab the towel from you and wrap you in it himself, eyes blazing with a heat hotter than the water you just bathed in. He'll kiss your neck, wet little pecks that stop at your breasts before he lets you go so that you can get ready for the day.
If you're going in the same direction, walking hand in hand, every so often he'll kiss the back of your hand. If you just so happen to be speaking at the time, it disrupts your train of thought. He does do it on purpose, and grins like a pleased puss whenever you hide your flustered face in his bicep. If you're going your separate ways, a 'goodbye' kiss is mandatory and it'll throw off his whole day if he doesn't get one. There was one particular afternoon he rushed out so quickly you were convinced spirits were nipping at the tail end of his glider as he only managed a rushed-out 'love you forever' before he was jetting off into the sky. You were left standing there, arms outstretched, eyes closed and ready for his usual kiss, it never came.
You decide not to think too much about it, lest you start dwelling on the fact that this could be where the inconsistency would start. Yes, you're spoiled to the core when it comes to his clockwork kisses and you have no shame in that whatsoever. Still, the overthinking has made you rather petulant about your kiss or lack thereof, causing you to nearly crush the newly signed scroll while wrapping it back up. Then, the breeze picked up and quick as a blink, a blur of saffron shot through the open window.
Of course, he came back.
"Aang, what-"
"I forgot somethin'." Is all he says before he leans his glider against the wall, then you're being pulled forward and dipped into a sweeping kiss, so long and lingering as if he were trying to take your very breath away.
Your arms wrap around his neck and he sighs into your mouth before pulling away and righting you. Dazed is how he leaves you as he grabs his glider and disappears the way he came, the 'love you forever' sounding like a wind chime as he goes.
Slow languid kisses in the late evening are sacred; after your council meetings end, and if his lectures with the Acolytes don't carry into the late night. The lucky days like these find you perched in his lap, your hands gripping his biceps or around his neck—wherever they can find purchase as his tongue splits the seam of your lips to chase yours, mapping the cavern of your mouth and licking the taste of apple cake out of it.
He'll scoop you up then, taking you to your shared bed, laying you back against the pillows before crawling between your thighs and peppering biting kisses up the apex. When you're fed up with the teasing, he'll apologize with slick and sticky kisses up your wet slit, asking for your forgiveness in between kitten licks to your throbbing clit.
You'll plead for the weight of him against you and he'll work his way back up, kissing the expanse of your body til he's back to your lips. Big hands squeeze your cheeks as he buries himself in your tight heat, heavy cock kissing your spongy sweet spot while you eagerly kiss the taste of your arousal out of his mouth, not stopping until he's whining, claiming he needs air. The absolute weak man that he is doesn't let you go far, he'll kiss the slivers of skin that he thought he missed while you bask in the warm haze of afterglow.
Goodnight kisses are merely a sleepy but no less meaningful chaste little thing to any part of you he can reach in his drowsy state. He'd be half-awake as he tucks you against his side muttering incoherently about one spot he never got to reach.
Listen I’m more of a Kacchako shipper by heart but I’d fucking let Izuocha and Zutara destroy me, I love when the FFM threesome has other girl outfreak me so they team up with the guy to overstimulate the fuck out of readee 🤤🤤🤤
Continuing with what I said abt Ochaco being damn good at faux innocence/sweetness. Like wdym the “hides behind cute face and demeanor but is secretly a freak in bed” trope is literally her and Izuku
-💠
NGH IM CLOSE KEEP GOING 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤
Also you always coming to my inbox writing the most scrumptious ask ever
.✦ ݁˖ pregnant!fem!reader, established relationship, other than that just fluff;
zuko had picked you up a thousand times before.
over his shoulder. in his arms. into his lap during slow, lazy afternoons when you were both half-asleep, mumbling nonsense, but still refusing to let go of each other's warmth.
but this time was different.
this time, you were carrying his child.
your child.
"zuko, seriously," you laughed as he still held onto you anyway, stubborn as ever. "i can walk."
"i know you can walk," he muttered, his large hands adjusting carefully around your waist and back, brushing against your robes as if he was recalculating every possible way to hold you safely. "i just—"
he lifted you anyway.
—and immediately let out a strained little grunt.
then the room went completely silent.
the birds outside stopped chirping.
the wind didn't seem to blow anymore.
you blinked slowly.
zuko blinked right back.
for a moment, neither of you said anything.
then his expression dropped.
it was subtle at first — just a flicker of realization — but it quickly turned into full-blown horror, like he had just witnessed the collapse of his entire legacy before his eyes.
"...did you just grunt?" you ask finally, breaking the silence. your tone is calm, but your face gives nothing away.
"no...?" he replies immediately, too fast.
"you absolutely did," you say at once, not letting him escape it.
"i didn't," he snaps, a little sharper now, shifting his grip slightly like he's trying to prove a point. "i adjusted my stance."
you keep staring at him.
he refuses to meet your eyes.
your hands slowly rise, gently cradling his face so he has no choice but to look at you. his jaw is tense, his ears faintly red, his entire composure hanging by a thread.
despite his obvious distress, you smile softly.
"are you calling me heavy?"
his shoulders drop a little.
he exhales, trying to recover.
okay. maybe he was overreacting.
it was just a grunt, you smiled. maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. maybe you had nothing to be upset about.
yeah.
"no, love," he says, forcing a small smile.
then your fingers press into his cheeks, squishing them together as you study him very seriously.
"then put me down and pick me up again," you say, tone flat, deadpan. "without the grunt."
his eyes widen slightly.
he fakes a cough, trying to hide the sound of his fast heartbeating, as if you can hear it.
"yes, love," he answers, voice already wavering as he quickly clears his throat like that might fix everything.
.✦ ݁˖ pregnant!fem!reader, established relationship, other than that just fluff;
zuko had picked you up a thousand times before.
over his shoulder. in his arms. into his lap during slow, lazy afternoons when you were both half-asleep, mumbling nonsense, but still refusing to let go of each other's warmth.
but this time was different.
this time, you were carrying his child.
your child.
"zuko, seriously," you laughed as he still held onto you anyway, stubborn as ever. "i can walk."
"i know you can walk," he muttered, his large hands adjusting carefully around your waist and back, brushing against your robes as if he was recalculating every possible way to hold you safely. "i just—"
he lifted you anyway.
—and immediately let out a strained little grunt.
then the room went completely silent.
the birds outside stopped chirping.
the wind didn't seem to blow anymore.
you blinked slowly.
zuko blinked right back.
for a moment, neither of you said anything.
then his expression dropped.
it was subtle at first — just a flicker of realization — but it quickly turned into full-blown horror, like he had just witnessed the collapse of his entire legacy before his eyes.
"...did you just grunt?" you ask finally, breaking the silence. your tone is calm, but your face gives nothing away.
"no...?" he replies immediately, too fast.
"you absolutely did," you say at once, not letting him escape it.
"i didn't," he snaps, a little sharper now, shifting his grip slightly like he's trying to prove a point. "i adjusted my stance."
you keep staring at him.
he refuses to meet your eyes.
your hands slowly rise, gently cradling his face so he has no choice but to look at you. his jaw is tense, his ears faintly red, his entire composure hanging by a thread.
despite his obvious distress, you smile softly.
"are you calling me heavy?"
his shoulders drop a little.
he exhales, trying to recover.
okay. maybe he was overreacting.
it was just a grunt, you smiled. maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. maybe you had nothing to be upset about.
yeah.
"no, love," he says, forcing a small smile.
then your fingers press into his cheeks, squishing them together as you study him very seriously.
"then put me down and pick me up again," you say, tone flat, deadpan. "without the grunt."
his eyes widen slightly.
he fakes a cough, trying to hide the sound of his fast heartbeating, as if you can hear it.
"yes, love," he answers, voice already wavering as he quickly clears his throat like that might fix everything.
heh kinda early, but i was wondering if you could do the classic brothers best friend trope but instead of a brother, make it a sister and the friend would be ochaco?
older sister's best friend drummer!ochako uraraka 18+ MDNI!!!
your garage had been your older sister’s band’s practice spot since you could remember, music playing throughout the house at all times of day and night— oftentimes resulting in both her and her friends getting scolded by your mom. with time, your house became the default hangout spot, so it wasn’t unusual to find some of your sister’s bandmates casually lounging around. you basically grew up with them.
and it was probably the most cliché of clichés, getting a big fat crush on one of them— ochako uraraka, the band’s drummer. in your eyes, she had always been the textbook definition of cool, and childish admiration soon turned into something much, much hotter.
you don’t know how long you’ll be able to survive with these barely containable feelings, especially when she just keeps showing up like…this. on your couch, in a tiny top and even shorter shorts to fight the scalding heat of the season. yeah, surely someone up above wanted to kill you today.
“oh, hey y/n!” ochako greets you with a big smile. “wanna watch some tv? i’m sooooooo bored.”
“where’s my sister?” you asked, circling the couch to go grab a handful of grapes from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter. “don’t tell me she’s still at her boyfriend’s? i though i’d heard her this morning.”
“hm?” she turns around. “hey can you throw me one?” she makes grabby hands at you, and you laugh before tossing a grape in her direction. she successfully catches it, plopping it into her mouth. “—to answer your question,” she mumbles with her mouth full, “she’s going to get kyouka because her car broke down, and since she usueally picks up mina, your sister has to detour to her house as well.”
“jees, she’s getting the full tour of the city,” you snort. “tell me about it,” ochako shakes her head. “i told her she could’ve just told me to come later, but then she said that you were home and could’ve kept me company.”
you raise a brow, skeptical. “did she say that? is she actually capable of saying nice things about me?”
“nope,” she giggles. “she just said you were home, i drew the conclusion from it that you might’ve been good company.” there’s something in the way she says it that makes you falter, heat creeping up your neck, and you pray she doesn’t notice how flustered you became just from her words.
“o-oh…” you shake it off with a chuckle, then try to come up with a way to change the topic. “uhm, i put up that poster you gave me! thanks for that, by the way, it’s so cool and it looks so good. i put it on the wall where my record player is.”
ochako beams at that. “really? would you like to show me?”
oh, how that backfired.
the thought of ochako being in your room has you stalling once more, your brain filled with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be having right now. you realize you’ve been waiting too long to reply when she tilts her head. “s-sure!” you finally croak out. “o-of course, let’s go upstairs.”
“i’m sorry for the mess,” you look over your shoulder as you open the door to your bedroom. “i still haven’t finished unpacking so…yeah, it’s not too pretty.”
you weren’t exaggerating. since coming back from uni, you’ve been grabbing the clothes you wanted to wear directly from your suitcase, uncaringly dropping what you didn’t need on the floor. the only thing you did was putting back up your posters and other decorations, as well as reorganizing your figures and manga volumes on the shelves— it was still very much a work in progress, though.
“don’t worry!” ochako chuckled reassuringly from behind you. “you should see mine, even when i don’t have stuff to unpack.”
rambling is your only way to ignore just how fucking nervous you are at the moment. sure, ochako has been in your room before, but the two of you were never quite alone like this. it was either her, kyouka and mina dropping by to say hi when they came to practice, or to slip you a jell-o shot - or two…or three - during parties.
this…this was much different.
“well, i see you’ve unpacked the essentials only.”
and you’re about to come up with a playful reply before you’re following her line of sight, your face contorting into an expression of pure horror when your gaze falls on the vibrator lying on your unmade bed, only half-hidden by the sheets but still very unmistakably vibrator-shaped.
you want to die.
no, you need to die. like right now, with the floor cracking beneath your feet and sucking you into the depths of the earth.
“ah, uhm…t-that’s…i-i don’t…” you whimpering, overwhelmed by shame as ochako simply looks at you, clearly trying to fight back a laugh as she watches you squirm, not wanting to make you feel any worse. “i-i’m so sorry! this is so embarrassing,” you scramble to the bed, trying to hide it under as many pillows you can, hands shaking as you fumble with them.
ochako can’t hold back, bursting into laughter, doubled over with both hands clutching her stomach. the fact that you look like you’re about to throw up doesn’t help. “oh my gosh, sorry, sorry,” she wipes away a tear. “that’s…that was too funny, sorry. but there’s nothing to be ashamed of! if that makes you feel better, i own a few of those myself, it’s completely normal!”
you’re kneeling on the bed, hand still clutching a pillow as you look back at her. she has toys too? if you weren’t mortified enough before, the image of ochako touching herself is—
“stupid boys weren’t treating you right?”
when did she get on the bed!?
she’s sitting right next to you, so close you can smell her perfume mixed with a bit of sweat from the heat, big brown eyes staring right into yours. rosy lips stretched into a grin. you’re pretty sure she can hear how loudly you gulp.
“ah, t-that’s not—”
“or maybe girls?” she leans in, her nose only a breath away from yours.
your heart shouldn’t be beating so fast, the sound of your own blood thundering in your ears, and you’re not sure if you’re more scared or embarrassingly turned on. “i haven’t, uhm…i-i don’t really…”
admitting that you’re a virgin would surely make you look like even more of a loser. sure, there was some rubbing situation once, with an equally as intoxicated girl who was a year your senior at a party, but nothing more. because that girl wasn’t ochako.
“hm? no one, really? oh, poor girl,” she coos, and the faux sympathy in her voice has your thighs clenching together. “and i’m sure your…friend doesn’t satiate you enough, am i right?”
you can only nod.
“i can fix that.”
and you’re not sure how you end up with your shorts and panties discarded to the floor, shirt bunched up to let your tits spill free, red marks decorating the skin. ochako’s kiss is like a drug, obliterating any rational neuron in your brain and overriding it with something primal and depraved.
“oh, look at her,” she holds your thighs apart, marveling at the thick coat of glistening slick on your cunt, drooling hole clenching around nothing. “already so puffy and needy…no one’s been giving her the attentions she deserves, am i right?”
your chest heaves with panting breaths, ochako’s calloused hands manhandling your thighs is a sight that makes every fantasy you’ve ever had pale compared to the real thing. she isn’t even looking at you, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear to get even closer as she talks to your pussy, breath fanning over your sensitive core as her thumb spreads your folds.
“chako…” you call her name in a shaky whimper, but it quickly turns into a loud sob when three of her fingers come smacking! flat down on your poor cunt. your legs instinctively close shut, but she doesn’t let you, wrenching them open once more. “i wasn’t talking to you,” she chides. “i was talking to her. now, where were we—”
the sound of the front door opening downstairs has the both of your bristling. “ochako? ochako, are you still here? i brought mina and kyouka!”
you almost fall off the bed as you rush to grab your clothes and fix yourself, while ochako calmly gets up and stops on your doorway. “yeah, i was in the bathroom! i’ll be down in a minute!” she turns to you then, making sure you see her putting in her mouth those same fingers that had been coated in your juices only moments ago, licking them clean.
“thanks for keeping me company,” she chirps. “i’ll come by to say goodbye later. don’t miss me too much, ‘kay?”
┊┊a/n. i don't really know how much older ochako is 3 years at best? her and reader are a senior and a freshman in college respectively? dunno man...i wish i could've made this longer but i was revising for my exam the whole day...wish me luck for tomorrow chat :(((
.✦ ݁˖ pregnant!fem!reader, established relationship, other than that just fluff;
zuko had picked you up a thousand times before.
over his shoulder. in his arms. into his lap during slow, lazy afternoons when you were both half-asleep, mumbling nonsense, but still refusing to let go of each other's warmth.
but this time was different.
this time, you were carrying his child.
your child.
"zuko, seriously," you laughed as he still held onto you anyway, stubborn as ever. "i can walk."
"i know you can walk," he muttered, his large hands adjusting carefully around your waist and back, brushing against your robes as if he was recalculating every possible way to hold you safely. "i just—"
he lifted you anyway.
—and immediately let out a strained little grunt.
then the room went completely silent.
the birds outside stopped chirping.
the wind didn't seem to blow anymore.
you blinked slowly.
zuko blinked right back.
for a moment, neither of you said anything.
then his expression dropped.
it was subtle at first — just a flicker of realization — but it quickly turned into full-blown horror, like he had just witnessed the collapse of his entire legacy before his eyes.
"...did you just grunt?" you ask finally, breaking the silence. your tone is calm, but your face gives nothing away.
"no...?" he replies immediately, too fast.
"you absolutely did," you say at once, not letting him escape it.
"i didn't," he snaps, a little sharper now, shifting his grip slightly like he's trying to prove a point. "i adjusted my stance."
you keep staring at him.
he refuses to meet your eyes.
your hands slowly rise, gently cradling his face so he has no choice but to look at you. his jaw is tense, his ears faintly red, his entire composure hanging by a thread.
despite his obvious distress, you smile softly.
"are you calling me heavy?"
his shoulders drop a little.
he exhales, trying to recover.
okay. maybe he was overreacting.
it was just a grunt, you smiled. maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. maybe you had nothing to be upset about.
yeah.
"no, love," he says, forcing a small smile.
then your fingers press into his cheeks, squishing them together as you study him very seriously.
"then put me down and pick me up again," you say, tone flat, deadpan. "without the grunt."
his eyes widen slightly.
he fakes a cough, trying to hide the sound of his fast heartbeating, as if you can hear it.
"yes, love," he answers, voice already wavering as he quickly clears his throat like that might fix everything.