I THINK YOU WERE IN MY PROFILE PICTURE ONCE PT 2

omg omg for your event — could i get kaeya & ice play + titjob + spanking? ♡ ♡ congrats on the milestone <33

𖧷Cw: Ice play,titjob. 17+ only

𖧷Author's note: you can only choose one or two bby <33

Salmon's 900+ followers event

"Awh,looking at me like that won't do any changes darling~"

The smug decorated his face as he stared at your tits who got his dick between them,bouncing up and down against it. Kaeya took one of the ice cubes that rested in the bucket with multiple champagne bottles.

He,by suprise,brushed the cube on your lips and before you could try to slap it away,he removed the cube,sensually licking it while making eye contact with you.

"Your lips always taste good,they'll be better on my tip...don't you think?"

Oh how you loved that personality of his.

Kaeya moved the cube to the front of your neck,letting it melt while also sliding down your tits that you continued to rub it up and down to his hard dick,visible pre-cum flowing out. He soon took a another ice cube,placing it between his top and bottom teeth.

"Shall we see it then? My lips are...sometimes impatient~"

just… farmer!kita x housewife!reader but it’s the middle of the night & kita always has to be up early, and you feel so bad because he’s had such a long day and he deserves to rest… you’re just unbearably horny, and you can’t bring yourself to be selfish by waking him up, so you try to quietly masturbate next to him, struggling to discreetly get off, but you can’t hold back your whines or the fact that after being with him for so long, he’s trained your body to only respond to him. right when you’re about to give up, you feel him grab your wrist.

“what’re y’doin?” his voice is gravelly and thick with sleep, but the strength behind his grip is alive with energy. when he married you, he promised you that he’d provide for you. that includes wringing out orgasms from his pretty little wife whenever she wants. it’s not that he’s upset because you woke him up; he’s upset that you didn’t initially wake him up to help you, and now he’s going to have punish you.

thinking about virgin!choso who has never seen a pair of real tits in his life so when you take off your bra after a heavy make out session, he immediately cums in his pants and is embarrassed to the core. but you cup his cheek and tell him it's okay. it's normal. and twenty five minutes later, that man is drilling his cock in your hole while sucking the fuck out of your nipples, fondling them so harshly as if someone's gonna steal them away from him.

"they're mine, mkay? ngh— not gonna give these babies—my babies to anyone else, right? fuck. mmph!"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ RICHTIVITIES PT. 2!

richhusband!Nanami who has you come over to his office when he’s needy, sneaking you in under the guise of bringing his forgotten bento box, but in actuality, he has you split open on his cock with a big hand covering your mouth to muffle the incessant loud moans that are leaving your lips. Muscles tense as he struggles to contain his urge to unleash thrust after thrust to your miserable cunt, his sculpted stomach flush to your back as he keeps your legs open.

richhusband!Nanami whose fingers move expertly across your mound, drawing your clit in circles ‘till you’re squirting all over his crisp and expensive slacks, and he’s whispering in your ear about how gorgeous you look all spread out for him. His thick fingers playing with your hardened nipples through the pink blouse you’d chosen to wear.

richhusband!Nanami who has to cup a hand over your mouth once he hears footsteps and a familiar voice nearing his office door, though he’s not giving you any chance to quiet down with the way he’s ramming his hips up into you. Once he shoo’s whoever it was away, he’s repositioning you so you’re bent over his desk, disregarding the paperwork scattered all over.

richhusband!Nanami who takes his time with you, now slowly and languidly driving himself into your sex. And, as you both cum together, there forms that white ring of juices on the base of his cock he loves oh, so much.

richhusband!Nanami who slides your panties back in place after he’s done, kissing you so passionately it sweeps you up into a state of pure bliss. He’s pulling out his wallet, kissing you again, and placing a wad of cash between your tits. “Get yourself something, sweetheart. I’ll be home shortly.”

soccer player!mitsuya

he's been on my mind forever this is very much self indulgent afhdjkafhgjksaghj not edited

warnings: mostly fluff, slight breeding kink, implied female reader in the last sentence, semi-public sex

♡♡♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡♡♡

soccer player!mitsuya who pulls his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face and his abs are glistening in sweat from pre-game warm up. who winks up at you on the benche and later that day you go on twitter and find the timeline flooded with gifs and photosets and edits of it.

who kisses you before heading out to the field to start. who's pre-game, and basically all around ritual is to kiss his wedding band and point out to where he knows you're watching.

who rushes to you at halftime and spins you around in his arms, laughing as you groan halfheartedly about how sweaty and smelly he is. kisses all across your face as he holds you in his arms. who lets you pull a jacket over his body as he guzzles down his water. who lets you towel off his face as he asks all giddy "didja see that last goal? was for you, gorgeous." "i know baby, you guys are definitely gonna win. i know it."

who holds onto you as his coach explains things for the second half. who sits with you when he's benched or subbed. pulls you into his lap and you both watch from the sides, cheering for the team and booing the refs for wrong calls.

who immediately kisses his ring finger and points to you on the benches after he scores the winning goal, breathing heavily and beaming at you from across the field as you go running out to hold him.

who fucks you in the locker room before everyone comes back, pressing you up against the shower walls as he palms your ass, hitching your leg up in his arm as you pounds into you from behind. the gold medal hitting against your chest with every harsh snap of his hips as he fucks into you with fever, panting and kissing and biting at your skin with a hand around your neck.

"you gonna gimme my reward, arent you baby? i made you proud didnt i?"

"won the whole thing for you, pretty. all for you. knew you'd look so good wearing that medal."

"cum again for me angel, make me proud."

"c'mon, one more round before the boys come back baby. with any luck today, maybe next time around you'll be in the benches with a lil mini runnin around, huh?"

he makes sure of that last part

© all content belongs to rueren on tumblr

ino is hopeless.

nanami knows it. anyone with half a brain could see it—except for ino himself, apparently.

it starts subtly. little things that nanami catches because he’s perceptive, because it’s in his nature to notice details others overlook. at first, it’s harmless: ino’s eyes lingering on you for a beat too long when you speak, the way he straightens up whenever you enter a room, how he suddenly remembers the most trivial of errands whenever you’re around—just so he has an excuse to stay a little longer.

nanami finds it mildly amusing. he’s well aware of how attractive you are, how effortlessly charming, even without trying. it’s only natural that someone like ino, young and overeager, would fall for you.

but then, it escalates.

one evening, you drop by jujutsu high, bringing nanami a homemade meal because you know he’s been too busy to eat properly. you show up in casual clothes—just a simple, fitted sweater and jeans—but the way ino reacts, you’d think you walked in wearing a red carpet gown.

he visibly stiffens when you greet him, gives you a stammered “hey” that’s painfully awkward. nanami, who’s been flipping through reports at his desk, glances up just in time to see the way ino’s gaze flickers down your body before he forces himself to look away.

ah. so that’s where this is going.

ino is crushing, sure, but there’s something else now—something more desperate, more embarrassing. nanami recognizes it instantly, and this time, he does smirk. just a little.

ino, poor fool that he is, doesn’t realize nanami has noticed.

“kento,” you sigh, walking past ino like he isn’t even there. you set the bento box on nanami’s desk, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his temple. “you really need to stop skipping meals.”

nanami catches the way ino’s mouth parts slightly, like the air’s been knocked out of him.

“thank you,” nanami says, calmly, like he hasn’t just witnessed his protégé mentally combust.

“it’s nothing,” you hum, straightening up. “besides, if you keep working late, i’ll just have to start showing up every night.”

ino makes a strangled noise. nanami takes a sip of his coffee, unbothered.

—

later, nanami watches as ino struggles to focus during a sparring session.

it’s bad. the kid’s already a mess under normal circumstances, but today, he’s downright sloppy. his stance is off, his movements sluggish, his strikes lacking any real force. nanami doesn’t have to guess why.

he sees it in the way ino flinches when you walk past the training hall, his shoulders tensing like he’s physically holding himself back from looking. but his restraint only lasts a second—his gaze flickers toward you anyway, like a moth drawn to a flame.

it’s pathetic.

nanami doesn’t even need to move much to dodge the sloppy punch ino throws next, sidestepping effortlessly. ino tries to recover, shifting his weight, but nanami can already tell he’s not putting his full strength into it. he’s distracted, his mind clearly elsewhere.

“you’re unfocused,” nanami states plainly, effortlessly blocking another weak attempt at a strike.

ino exhales sharply, shaking out his arms like that’ll somehow fix his obvious lack of composure. “just—just tired, that’s all,” he says, forcing a weak chuckle.

nanami stares at him, unimpressed.

“tired,” he repeats, tone dry.

ino nods, a little too eagerly. “yeah. long night.”

nanami doesn’t comment. he doesn’t need to. he’s known ino long enough to recognize his poor attempts at deflection. besides, nanami doesn’t have to say anything—not when ino completely exposes himself a second later.

because just as nanami steps forward to counter, you laugh at something in the hallway.

it’s not even loud. just a soft, amused sound, barely audible over the rhythmic thuds of sparring in the dojo. but ino hears it. worse, he reacts to it.

his body goes stiff, his focus snapping completely. nanami sees the exact moment his mind short-circuits—his fists unclenching, his stance faltering, his attention slipping from the fight entirely.

and so, nanami does what any good mentor would do.

he knocks ino flat on his ass.

“fuck,” ino groans, wheezing as he stares up at the ceiling.

nanami looms over him, arms crossed.

“if a simple distraction is enough to take you down, you won’t last long in the field,” nanami remarks coolly.

ino groans again, rubbing his face. “that wasn’t—i didn’t—”

nanami tilts his head. “if you’re tired, you should be able to focus through it,” he continues, watching as ino freezes. “unless, of course, something else is affecting your concentration.”

there it is. the telltale flicker of panic in ino’s eyes.

instead of pressing the issue further, he simply offers a hand. ino stares at it like he expects a follow-up attack, before reluctantly grasping it and letting nanami pull him to his feet.

“let’s go again.” nanami says, adjusting his sleeves.

ino exhales heavily. he nods, but nanami doesn’t miss the way his eyes flicker toward the door one last time.

instead of stopping him, nanami lets him suffer through his own turmoil.

—

by the time ino realizes he never had a chance, it’s almost pathetic.

you show up one evening, like always, but this time, you don’t just drape yourself over nanami’s shoulders—you practically melt into him, sighing contentedly as he rests a hand on your hip.

ino looks like he’s about five seconds away from passing out.

it’s honestly impressive—nanami has seen the kid go up against curses twice his level, take hits that should’ve knocked him out cold, but nothing has shaken him quite like this.

the moment you walk in, all warmth and ease as you slide into nanami’s space, ino tenses. nanami doesn’t miss the way his gaze flickers to where your hand rests on his shoulder, fingers curling against the fabric of his suit.

“kento,” you murmur, leaning down just enough that your breath brushes against his ear. “let’s go home.”

nanami hums, his grip on your waist firm as he turns his head slightly, his nose grazing yours before he kisses you—slow and deliberate.

you sigh into it, and nanami uses the moment to deepen the kiss, letting his hand drift lower, just enough to make a point.

when he finally pulls away, he opens his eyes and—ah, there it is.

ino looks wrecked. eyes wide, mouth slightly open, standing there like a man who’s just watched his last shred of hope crumble to dust.

nanami meets his gaze, calm as ever, but there’s something sharp in his expression—something that makes ino straighten up like a scolded dog.

it’s not a threat. not really. nanami doesn’t need to threaten him.

it’s just a simple fact.

you’re his.

and ino? well, ino never had a chance.

—> part two(nsfw).

boy best friend ft.sunarintaro

content warning: 16+ only. may contain acts of obsession and dark secrecy. not proofread. separate fiction from reality. ⤿ you have been warned. read at your own risk!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

a boyfriend.

you've been wanting to have one for the longest time already. but that word seem to be avoiding you like a plague. you only ever had one ex-boyfriend in high school, and that guy's married now. he treated you really well, but you two broke up after he opened up to you about having feelings for someone else. and that someone is his wife now.

pretty cute. but shitty for you.

it's a good thing that you have your boy best friend, suna rintaro, to keep you company at all times. you cried to him that day and he told you that you didn't need boys and that you should just focus on yourself. so you did. but you still wanted a boyfriend. college passed like a blurring memory. nothing interesting going on, really. except for the questions from your blockmates asking why you still don't have a boyfriend at your age and your looks. you just shrugged and said that maybe nobody really liked you.

and most of the time, girls from different blocks and departments would be coming up to you and asking for rintaro's number. you always did give his number to those girls so he had to change his phone because of how much texts that he receive everyday. he even scolded you for it and told you not to give his personal information to just anyone.

you and rintaro have been friends since middle school. attended the same high school and college. now, he works as a civil engineer and you've also pursued your dream job. you're still close. like peas in a pod. but because of this, so many people have asked if you gurs are dating and you always dismiss their questions and say that you're just friends. which is true. well, for you, that is.

you've been wondering why you still haven't gotten a boyfriend yet. you're pretty and kind. people would have flocked to you by now just like the other girls like you. so why don't you have the same effect on them?

one reason: rintaro.

every time that someone attempts to make a move on you, he'd be there to say that you're off limits and that you're already taken. he's been doing this ever since your first and last boyfriend. and he's still doing it for you.

rintaro have always liked you. he had feelings for you way before you had your first boyfriend. he was just too afraid to confess his feelings to you because he didn't want to get rejected. so now, he's doing you and himself a favor by blocking off anyone who tries to even utter a single word of confession to you.

now that you're both nearing the age of thirty, you decided to just fuck it all and offered him a deal.

once the two of you reached the age of thirty and still doesn't have a girlfriend or boyfriend, you'll marry each other. just like those cliché shit that you usually see on novels and books. rintaro agreed with his usual calmness, of course. but you didn't know that he was absolutely ecstatic about it.

one year have passed, two years. and then, your birthday came.

"happy thirtieth birthday, pretty." he greeted while holding a round red velvet cake in his hands with two number candles on it. 30. you smiled and thanked him before blowing on the candles and made a silent wish for the success and happiness of your life and rintaro's. he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead before taking your hand in his and brushed his lips against your knuckles, your ring finger in particular. "can you guess what my gift for you is?" he asked in which you shook your head and curiously looked at him.

he only smiled and intertwined your fingers as he pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a silver ring with a shining diamond embedded into it. "i hope that you haven't forgotten our deal yet." he chuckled and watched as you looked at him in surprise then slowly grinned.

you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek then watched as he slowly slid the ring onto your ring finger. he raised your hand and brought it to his lips without breaking eye contact with you. "you're mine now. my beautiful wife." he whispered softly.

before, you always wanted a boyfriend. but you never got one. and now that rintaro's here, you won't be asking for anything else. because you're his now, and he's yours.

your husband.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

a/n: find yourself a man who's obsessed with u /j

prohero!katsuki x reader — suggestive, mdni

Walking home alone at this hour is dangerous. Reckless, stupid. You'll get swallowed up by all kinds of creeps, your boyfriend told you once.

That’s why you need a hero to take care of you when this happens.

Pro Hero Dynamight — first in the official Chart, the bastard that makes all the villains shriek and the girls scream — makes this clear as he presses up against your back, thigh peeking between your legs, mouth to the shell of your ear — all for security, of course. He slides a heated hand from your hip to the curve of your thigh, his gloves rough on skin if it weren’t for the barrier of your jeans.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ out here all alone?” Dynamight rasps to your neck.

You gasp at the heat of his body towering over you, feeling a little weak in the knees. A big, strong Pro Hero cornering you like this… It’s a little scandalous. Your heart pounds for all the wrong reasons. “My— My boyfriend's working overtime. He’s a Pro, too, you see. A little too busy for me sometimes, Dynamight, sir.”

His big hand spans across your thigh, a steady weight that twitches at your formal address. It explores boldly. “A Pro, huh,” he echoes, gripping your chin to press his mouth against your jaw. “Looks like he ain’t doin’ his job to me.”

You shudder, and he follows it with a finger trailing up your spine near possessively, a dragon to his newly-found treasure. You tilt your head to meet the pierce of his red eyes, too helpless to not draw closer to the mouth that’s putting you in a trance with each filthy word. A handsome man like him, so eager to touch you... Who is to blame you, really? Your boyfriend’s left you a little needy.

“Ah, but — it’s okay.” You squirm and look up at him through your lashes. Coy and easy. “I’m used to taking care of myself. He’s busy enough.”

“He’s a jackass,” Dynamight says fiercely, half-distracted by your mouth.

You nearly break character, a little laugh slipping out. And with the way he grins, he knows what he’s doing wrong.

“Ahem. Dynamight, sir,” you return seamlessly, with the grace of a professional. Your back arches willingly as he drags you impossibly close, hip to hip. “We can’t… not like this. Someone might see.”

“Who gives a shit,” he says, then grips one whole thigh and squeezes appreciatively. “You’re already ruttin’ against me like a horndog, anyway.”

“Like a—” Incensed, you slap his chest, then hit it a few times more out of frustration. “Katsuki, gross! Stop ruining the scene, dammit.”

“What?” Katsuki’s frowns rather theatrically. The picture of innocence that doesn’t quite fit with his growing smug grin. “I didn’t ruin anything. Look, I’m still har—”

“Okay.” You exhale sharply, pushing away from him. Katsuki laughs, trying to pull you back to him, cooing. “You know what? Just skip the foreplay and take me home.”

── 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : hinata shoyo.

content: fem!reader. public sεx in the back booth of a cafe. dirty thoughts, teasing, fingering, a little overstimulation, shoyo is a liiittle mean but he's just so eager to have you!! mentioned pussy eating at the end.

— . ｡˚ ♡ you just can't wait to have shoyo's fingers in you. and neither can he.

one of the first things you notice about hinata when you meet up with him after his years away in brazil, is that his hands are big.

he'd already been growing taller and filling out when he left — but that was nearly three years ago, and seeing him for the first time after so long felt like a dream — because despite looking the same, he also looked just that different. it wasn't just his hands, really — he was big. 

his neck was thicker, the expanse between his shoulder and neck offering much more space for your arms than it used to, as you wrapped them around his neck in a hug. his arms, his chest, his stomach, as they press against yours in the embrace, they feel bigger, more muscular than you remembered.

but what you notice the most, what would be a subtle change compared to everything else — is that his hands are so big. maybe because you hadn't seen his hands properly in any of the pictures he'd sent you, but it was the most surprising change about him.

his fingers that just used to be long and lithe, are now thicker — knuckles tough and edges calloused, the backs of them rosy and tanned and the palms hard and smooth, pink at the rounder points.

and as he holds your hands in his, gives you a smile that pours love and longing and happiness and tender adoration into you as he tells you, “hi, baby. i missed you.” — all you can think about is that you want your pussy stuffed with those fingers of his.

and eventually — because he is after all, your beloved shoyo that would do anything for you — you tell him.

hand in hand, walking the distance from your place to the café you used to frequent together, you tell him that his hands are so nice. 

his fingers are so thick (“look! see how big they are compared to mine?”) and then while you're talking to each other over cups of coffee, you finally tell him — albeit slyly and mostly as a tease, you admit that you want his fingers in your cunt.

what you don't expect is for him to immediately oblige.

you're sitting together at the very last booth of the small, cozy little cafe, away from all the windows and concealed from clear view — and you'd thought it'd be cute to fluster him with a dirty little comment, and get him hooked for when you both get home.

but when you tell him, “they'd feel so nice curling deep into my pussy, don't you think?” hinata stares at you for only a few seconds — before he has you pressed against the back of the booth, one legged hooked over his knees and the other dangling over the edge of the seat as he forces your legs open.

“mhm,” he giggles at your wide eyed, stunned expression, wrapping a muscled arm around you and adjusting your position so effortlessly, as his other hand slides past the waistband of your skirt to palm at your clothed cunt. “let's see how it feels, then. oh — pretty pussy's wet already, huh? missed me much?”

you're too dazed by the contact and the delicious feel of his touch on your clit to form words and tell him yes, yes yes you missed him so fucking much, more than he knows — but you think you missed him more than even you know.

his eyes are brighter than you remember as well, you see as you blink up to meet his gaze— 

his body language, his confidence, it's so different compared to how he was before.

you'd only gotten together in your third year of highschool, and really you'd only fucked once before he left for brazil — but you'd loved him long enough to know.

this isn't the same hinata that you kissed good-bye at that train station years ago.

correction: he is the same — but he's also more. 

you stare, stars in your eyes — and he gives you a handsome, rogueish grin as he slips two digits under your panties and into the slick mess of your hole, like he knows every single thing he's doing to you right now.

to your body, to your mind, to your soul.

it's overwhelming enough, to have the love of your life return home to you after more than two years of being so, so far away from you.

overwhelming enough to see that he has changed so very much, to see that suddenly the sunny, sweet boy you'd fallen in love with has become a fire, a hot searing flame that's ready to sweep you off your feet and singe you, burn you with his kisses and his touch.

but right now, you can't even think clearly about it all — because fuck, fuck, fuck, he's sliding his fingers into you, and it feels even better than you thought it would.

“sh—shoyo,” you whimper, cheek pressed to his chest as he shields your body with his, just in case. “wait, wait — didn't mean right now, i—”

“hush,” he hums into your ear, thumb gliding up to find your clit, and when he presses into the sensitive bud, you can only obey and hush — pressing your lips shut tight to prevent the gasp of pleasure that builds in your throat from getting away.

the café had been pretty quiet and peaceful when you'd both walked inside, and even as you ordered from the counter and brought your trays to the back booth — but suddenly, you're so afraid that people might come and see. afraid that a waiter might come over and see.

“sho—” you try, but he shushes you again, and you feel so hot, it's all so sudden you can't think.

“couldn't wait, sunshine, 'm sorry.” he mumbles into your hair, pulling you even closer, and you feel a little cramped as he tugs your legs even further apart, fingers sliding knuckle-deep into you. “was thinking things the whole time, you're so gorgeous now, can't wait when you're so hot.”

“i—” you whimper again, grabbing his shirt and curling it in your fist. “me too, shoyo, me too.” there's an impatience in the both of you that was hardly satiable when kept apart from eachother, but now, with the two of you like this, there's no way to keep it at bay.

the stretch of his fingers in your cunt is impossible. so much compared to your own fingers, so hot and hungry compared to the toys you use (ones he'd bought and sent home to you during his time in brazil).

he fucks his digits into you like he's been dying to do this to you, like he's desperate to hear those pretty sounds you make in his ear again, like he's been thirsting to make you cum like this forever.

you're going to hit your orgasm so quick, you can already feel it.

you're going to cum slumped in the back booth of this little café, that you'd visited so long ago on your first date with hinata. this little café where you'd first kissed him. this little café where you'd had a valentine's day brunch with him, just two months before he left.

“shoyo,” you can't help the moan that slips out, pussy only clenching around harder his digits when you see the way his eyes cloud with lust upon hearing your voice. “shoyo, shoyo — gonna cum.”

you hope nobody hears you — and you hope that if they did, they'll stay the fuck away and mind their own business, and let hinata take care of you.

you need it. he's so warm, so hot, and he's fucking you so good with just his fingers — thumb rolling your clit just fucking right while he curls his fingers into your velvet walls, giggling under his breath when your pussy squelches messily each time. 

“that's right, baby,” he coos, kissing your hair. “cum for me. nice and hard, mkay? else we might hafta try again.”

his voice cracks so well at just the right moment as he says it — and you don't know if it's the zap of need that courses through you at the sound of his voice breaking, or if it's just the bliss he's giving you with his fingers that makes you cum instantly, but you do.

your pussy wraps around his fingers so tight — your own hand flying up to clamp over your mouth and muffle your cry, as your body finally unfreezes and you crash into your high.

knees knocking together and squeezing hinata's arm between your legs, you fall lax against the leather seating of the booth — cushioned by his body because he still has his other arm secured around you — and you cum. “fuck, shoyo.”

“that's good,” hinata encourages, his whisper hot in the shell of your ear. “fuck, so messy. so messy, baby, how do we clean you up?”

you can't help it — and he's making it worse, curling his fingers in, knuckles digging into your walls as he tries to go even deeper, never relieving the pressure he's out on your clit, god— “shoyo, fuck, fuck.” you’re afraid you might shatter into a million pieces right there on the damn seat. you haven’t had someone else touch you in a long time, and getting an orgasm ripped from you like this is almost too much. “sho—shoyo, please.”

“please, what?” he giggles, still unrelenting, like he’s missed having you like this, like he really can’t be a good boy and wait until you get back home before he eats you up and makes you his girl all over again, for the first time in years.

“not here,” you say breathlessly, gulping down the cry of pleasure that springs up your throat when he lets go of your clit for a moment, only to flick his thumb at the ravenous bud again. “not here, please. i can’t—”

“can’t what?” he asks, almost impatient. he bites at your ear, and you feel so fucking hot, so dizzy with pleasure, but you can’t. not in the back booth of a god damn café, where you could just be caught with MSbY’s newest outside hitter fitting his fingers into your starving little cunt.

you grab his wrist and tug, giving him the most serious look you can with all the stars in your eyes. “can’t be like this, shoyo. not here. please? wanna go home. want you in me. at home.”

his lips pull downwards into a disappointed pout, but he only presses his body closer to you, hot and heavy, his weight so new on you. “you promise t’ let me fuck you like this in your bed then?”

the fact that he can make you blush harder with a few words even as he’s got your pussy full of his fingers is astounding, really. but you feel your face heat up as you nod, telling him you promise. you need it more than him. you need him so, so fucking bad.

with a delighted laugh, shoyo pulls away, almost too quickly and you’re forced to stifle the needy whine you want to let out because you know he’ll be on you again in no time if you act like that. he pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking on your slick, eyes dulling with lust as he gets a taste of you. “let’s go, then. we can have this date later.”

“wh—what about our food?” you can’t even ask before he’s getting up and pulling you to your feet. he gives you a quick kiss, and your eyes widen when you taste yourself on him. god, it’s almost embarrassing.

“i’ll pay for it now, we’ll tell them we’re coming back in a bit.” he grins at you, taking you by the waist and pulling you up against him. “i can think of something else i’d like to eat right now.”

by the glint in his eyes and the lingering taste in your mouth, you know exactly what he means the instant he says it. and you can’t help but blush again. god, he’s such a fucking charmer. “mm, alright. let’s go then.”

“that’s my girl.”

Whenever people asked Ushijima how he and his wife got together, it was much easier to say that you became closer naturally than to admit that you had joked yourself into the relationship. Back then, you had just started working with the Adlers as their new physiotherapist and, in order to get better acquainted with them, took your lunch break at their table. You were sitting between Hoshiumi and Kageyama, Ushijima and Hirugami across, and your heart was stumbling under Wakatoshi’s unmoving gaze. The butterflies in your chubby tummy fluttering every time one of his rare, small smiles came your way, made you feel like you were in high school again. 

To lighten the mood and relieve your own nervous tension, you began joking around with Hirugami and Hoshiumi, happy how readily they and the other players had accepted you into their little family. Just as you were wheezing along with the short ace about an unflattering picture of Kageyama, Ushijima interrupted the fun by opening his yogurt a little too forcefully. Thick, white dollops were flung from the cup and landed on your new team shirt, face, and even in your hair. For a moment everyone gawked in stunned silence before you grabbed a napkin and nonchalantly began wiping yourself off, saying, “You know, you could have at least bought me dinner first.”

The captain howled with laughter, while Hoshiumi half-dove under the table to hold his stomach and cover his nose to stop the water shooting out of his nostrils. 

Meanwhile, Kageyama and Ushijima just looked at you questioningly. 

“My apologies, y/n.”, Wakatoshi said earnestly, “I would love to go out with you.”

He handed you a packet of wet wipes from his pocket and, using his chopsticks, placed a large piece of his chicken katsu in your almost empty rice bowl, then continued eating as if nothing had happened, but was unable to hide a now much wider grin as the break went on.