Ship: imaizumi shunsuke / naruko shoukichi Fandom: yowapeda Major tags: implied sexual content Other tags: genderswap Square: my breasts are not fake! Word count: 819
Im so gay
***
Naruko is wearing a sports bra that's too small for her again. It had been pretty obvious during lunch, when Naruko had run face-first into Imaizumi's back after snatching the last batch of curry pan from the cafeteria. Now, with Naruko's jersey zipped halfway down to reveal the rise of her hot red sports bra, Imaizumi is officially suffering.
"Staring is rude, you know," Teshima hums pleasantly after Naruko rides off with Aoyagi. She laughs when Imaizumi gives her a look of alarm. "I see even elites have weaknesses."
"Senpai-" Imaizumi tries to argue, but finds that she has nothing valid to say. Instead, she hops onto her own bike and ignores Kanzaki's quiet laughter behind them. Riding will take her mind off all this, she thinks.
Instead, Imaizumi has the misfortune of being paired with Kaburagi, who babbles on about how much time she's shaved off her climb. Imaizumi does her best to focus on the road, but her mind eventually wanders to the cute tiger motif on Naruko's endless collection of sports bras that she basically lives in. The thought of it spurs Imaizumi into action, and she gets that last kick of adrenaline and leaves Kaburagi behind towards the end of their route. Imaizumi arrives back at the club house just in time to see Naruko still in practice clothes, with her bag across her shoulders.
"Oi, hotshot-" Naruko starts to say.
"Race you to the lamp," Imaizumi replies, which sends Naruko into a familiar cackle. "Loser buys dinner."
"What about your bag, Imaizumi-kun?" Onoda asks behind the glare of her glasses. Imaizumi waits two beats as Naruko remounts her Pinarello. "My driver has my stuff. See you tomorrow, Onoda."
"Bye, Onoda-chan!" Naruko shouts before taking off, prompting Imaizumi to follow.
The race to the lamp is their standard post-practice cool down. It's short enough that their records are pretty evenly tied, but Imaizumi still smiles to herself when Naruko beats her by a sliver. "Come to my house, then. I'll order delivery."
"Score!" Naruko throws her hands into the air in victory.
By the time they get to the house, Imaizumi is already covered in a layer of sweat. Still, she lets Naruko use her bathroom and goes downstairs to use the guest one instead. They're both showered and clean in record time, and Naruko's hair is almost half-dry by the time Imaizumi finishes combing out her own locks.
While Imaizumi puts in an order for pizza, Naruko busies herself with touching everything in Imaizumi's room. It's a habit of Naruko's, even though she visits so often that even Imaizumi's sister has gotten over the surprise of seeing someone wandering around their empty home in Imaizumi's old t-shirts.
Today, Naruko has stolen Imaizumi's middle school club shirt. It's fading and pilling, but still manages to look big on Naruko's small frame. The blue of the logo, however, looks nice contrasted against Naruko's tan skin and red hair.
The only problem is that Naruko is not wearing a bra. Again.
Naruko knows this too, and she uses it to her advantage to plop down on Imaizumi's lap and knock Imaizumi's cellphone away.
"There are other places to sit, you know," Imaizumi says, but stops complaining when Naruko loops her arms around Imaizumi's neck. "Delivery will be here in twenty minutes."
Naruko just grins. "That's plenty of time, hotshot."
"Time for what?" Imaizumi tries to sound casual.
"For you to admire my beauty," Naruko says. She grabs one of Imaizumi's hands and brings it to her own chest, laughing when Imaizumi automatically cups Naruko’s breast through her shirt. "Kakaka! I knew you've been dying to do that."
Imaizumi can feel her face heat up. "I have not." Instinctively, she leans in closer. Naruko is so small. She's rough around the edges but soft where it counts. Imaizumi doesn't understand how Naruko can aggressively elbow her so hard during class yet revert to hugging her moments later, the swell of Naruko's chest pressing against Imaizumi and making her forget whatever made her mad in the first place.
"Your hair is getting long," Naruko says, bringing Imaizumi back to the present. Naruko's free hand is playing with the end of Imaizumi's damp hair, twirling it around her nimble fingers.
"Short hair is harder to put up," Imaizumi replies absently. She knows, that Naruko knows, that there are a handful of photos of Imaizumi with short hair spread out through the living room. Naruko had found them on her first visit and cackled over how cute "baby hotshot" looked.
Naruko isn't cackling now. She's grinning with a familiar light in her eyes. "But you look best with that bunny headband."
Recognition flashes back to Imaizumi as she remembers the last time her bangs had gotten in the way of their activities. If possible, Imaizumi turns more red.
"Relax," Naruko says slyly. "That can wait for after dinner."
FILL: TEAM KAGEYAMA TOBIO/OIKAWA TOORU, B2, T
Fandom: yowapeda
Major tags: implied sexual content
Other tags: genderswap
Square: my breasts are not fake!
Word count: 819
Im so gay
***
Naruko is wearing a sports bra that's too small for her again. It had been pretty obvious during lunch, when Naruko had run face-first into Imaizumi's back after snatching the last batch of curry pan from the cafeteria. Now, with Naruko's jersey zipped halfway down to reveal the rise of her hot red sports bra, Imaizumi is officially suffering.
"Staring is rude, you know," Teshima hums pleasantly after Naruko rides off with Aoyagi. She laughs when Imaizumi gives her a look of alarm. "I see even elites have weaknesses."
"Senpai-" Imaizumi tries to argue, but finds that she has nothing valid to say. Instead, she hops onto her own bike and ignores Kanzaki's quiet laughter behind them. Riding will take her mind off all this, she thinks.
Instead, Imaizumi has the misfortune of being paired with Kaburagi, who babbles on about how much time she's shaved off her climb. Imaizumi does her best to focus on the road, but her mind eventually wanders to the cute tiger motif on Naruko's endless collection of sports bras that she basically lives in. The thought of it spurs Imaizumi into action, and she gets that last kick of adrenaline and leaves Kaburagi behind towards the end of their route. Imaizumi arrives back at the club house just in time to see Naruko still in practice clothes, with her bag across her shoulders.
"Oi, hotshot-" Naruko starts to say.
"Race you to the lamp," Imaizumi replies, which sends Naruko into a familiar cackle. "Loser buys dinner."
"What about your bag, Imaizumi-kun?" Onoda asks behind the glare of her glasses.
Imaizumi waits two beats as Naruko remounts her Pinarello. "My driver has my stuff. See you tomorrow, Onoda."
"Bye, Onoda-chan!" Naruko shouts before taking off, prompting Imaizumi to follow.
The race to the lamp is their standard post-practice cool down. It's short enough that their records are pretty evenly tied, but Imaizumi still smiles to herself when Naruko beats her by a sliver. "Come to my house, then. I'll order delivery."
"Score!" Naruko throws her hands into the air in victory.
By the time they get to the house, Imaizumi is already covered in a layer of sweat. Still, she lets Naruko use her bathroom and goes downstairs to use the guest one instead. They're both showered and clean in record time, and Naruko's hair is almost half-dry by the time Imaizumi finishes combing out her own locks.
While Imaizumi puts in an order for pizza, Naruko busies herself with touching everything in Imaizumi's room. It's a habit of Naruko's, even though she visits so often that even Imaizumi's sister has gotten over the surprise of seeing someone wandering around their empty home in Imaizumi's old t-shirts.
Today, Naruko has stolen Imaizumi's middle school club shirt. It's fading and pilling, but still manages to look big on Naruko's small frame. The blue of the logo, however, looks nice contrasted against Naruko's tan skin and red hair.
The only problem is that Naruko is not wearing a bra. Again.
Naruko knows this too, and she uses it to her advantage to plop down on Imaizumi's lap and knock Imaizumi's cellphone away.
"There are other places to sit, you know," Imaizumi says, but stops complaining when Naruko loops her arms around Imaizumi's neck. "Delivery will be here in twenty minutes."
Naruko just grins. "That's plenty of time, hotshot."
"Time for what?" Imaizumi tries to sound casual.
"For you to admire my beauty," Naruko says. She grabs one of Imaizumi's hands and brings it to her own chest, laughing when Imaizumi automatically cups Naruko’s breast through her shirt. "Kakaka! I knew you've been dying to do that."
Imaizumi can feel her face heat up. "I have not." Instinctively, she leans in closer. Naruko is so small. She's rough around the edges but soft where it counts. Imaizumi doesn't understand how Naruko can aggressively elbow her so hard during class yet revert to hugging her moments later, the swell of Naruko's chest pressing against Imaizumi and making her forget whatever made her mad in the first place.
"Your hair is getting long," Naruko says, bringing Imaizumi back to the present. Naruko's free hand is playing with the end of Imaizumi's damp hair, twirling it around her nimble fingers.
"Short hair is harder to put up," Imaizumi replies absently. She knows, that Naruko knows, that there are a handful of photos of Imaizumi with short hair spread out through the living room. Naruko had found them on her first visit and cackled over how cute "baby hotshot" looked.
Naruko isn't cackling now. She's grinning with a familiar light in her eyes. "But you look best with that bunny headband."
Recognition flashes back to Imaizumi as she remembers the last time her bangs had gotten in the way of their activities. If possible, Imaizumi turns more red.
"Relax," Naruko says slyly. "That can wait for after dinner."
Imaizumi just nods.