#big butts in volleyball spandex

[bigbuttwomen9]

Big butt blonde volleyball teen

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[some-kindofgnome]

you turn me on (i’m a radio)

bokuto comes over one night midweek while you’ve got the apartment to yourself. after a mishap with his favourite volleyball shorts, you take advantage of the privacy.

c: koutarou bokuto x reader

wc: 5.4k

tags: smut (18+ please!), college au, aged-up characters, oral sex (both receiving), praise kink, begging, soft and sloppy sex feat. bo the horny simp giving u the creampie of ur life, body worship if u squint

notes: bo has a fat ass and I have a praise kink. that is all. oh, wait, i should also mention that this is mostly unedited. so if u see typos feel free to point em out! thx 💕

the song this bit is named after is so sweet and sunny & makes me think of bo all the time, so give it a listen if you’d care to! ☀️

ALSO forgot to mention that this was inspired by a tiktok i saw like a million years ago where this girl was helping her boyfriend get out of his too-small rugby shorts. it has been lost to the ether but you better BELIEVE if i ever find it again i’ll be linking it here

EDIT: @karikarasuno​ the absolute ANGEL has scoured the internet and found the tiktok in question.  p l e a s e go and watch it, u will not regret 😌

(MASTERLIST)

“’Kay, okay, I’m going!”

Bokuto tears himself from the tender press of your mouth in one fell swoop. As he whirls away with a tempted giggle, he combs his fingers through his mussed-and-sweaty hair. Practice was only two hours tonight, but he still doesn’t want to leave your side even long enough to shower.

You’ve only been dating for a few months, still lingering in that phase of every new relationship that feels too good to last. Your emotional involvement in one another deepens by the day, but you never fight. And you have a shamefully difficult time keeping yourself away from him. On a weeknight like this with no big assignments to speak of, you should be catching up on your readings, your chores, or even your sleep. But when you passed Bo in the quad earlier, pausing in your walk to class for a hi and a kiss, you’d invited him over before you could even stop yourself.

He’s nice to be around. Pleasant, unhindering. Even if you wanted to finish some readings or do some laundry while he’s over, he’s happy to be idle in your company. He is infuriatingly patient and understanding sometimes, compared to the slew of demanding, needy boyfriends that came before him.  

You watch him retreat into the safety of your bedroom, grinning like a fool. He’s fresh out of practice and practically dripping in sweat, dried from the walk you shared from the athletic center. Your evening class that night wrapped up around the same time as his practice, and when you passed the gym doors on your way home, he was already loitering on the steps with his teammates. Instead of pretending he didn’t see you or offering you a casual, passing nod like you expected, he practically bounded down the wide concrete steps and introduced you gleefully to the pack of volleyball players behind him who already knew you well.

There was no way you were letting him go all the way home to shower first. Not when he’s never minded smelling like your orange-and-sandalwood shower gel in the first place.

Once he’s disappeared, you give a yawn and a deep stretch and haul ass off the couch, padding into the kitchen to tidy up the snacks you shared on the way in the door.

You’ve barely got the first plates in the sink before a muffled babe? from the bedroom gives you pause.

“Bo?” You call back, setting your handful down and trying to keep your brow from furrowing too deeply. “You okay?”

“Can you… um…” His response starts off strong, louder than before, but it dwindles into a dull, unintelligible mutter that sounds uncertain enough to send you away from the kitchen.

You gently shoulder the bedroom door open, frowning at his broad shape, silhouetted in the shadowy bathroom doorway from the light behind him. “What’s the matter?”

Feeling along the wall for the light switch, you illuminate the pot lights over your bed.

Bokuto’s cheeks are gently flushed as he waddles toward you with his thumbs dug into the waistband of his volleyball shorts. The fabric is tough and certainly seems clingy, but there’s a strain in his neck and shoulders that takes you a minute to pin down.

“I can’t…” he starts to say, trailing off, then pulls his hands out of his shorts and drops them to his side with a heavy, defeated sigh.

“They’re stuck.”

You force the corners of your mouth downward, tightening the line of your mouth to keep the mirth locked firmly in your throat.

“I can see that.”

He’s been hitting the gym hard lately, shoving down the calories to try and bulk up a little for the upcoming tournament season. And while you know he’s been putting on some weight, since he tells you just about everything, it never occurred to you that he might be bulking up quick enough to outgrow his favourite shorts.

Bo lets out a quiet little whine, digging a thumb into the waistband one more time and prompting you to step forward.

“How stuck are you?” You reach for him. He turns sideways, twisting his chin over one shoulder to try and assess the situation from every plausible angle.

Oh. You slap a hand to your mouth.

The waistband is rolled down around his hips and already strained to its absolute limit, stuck on the sharp swell of his butt and already compressing the flesh in a way that looks genuinely painful. He’s wearing a pair of tight white compression shorts underneath the uniform shorts in question, but they’re not doing much to aid the situation, either.

You’re eager to get him out of those shorts for several reasons now.

“Alright.” You try to keep your voice low, stepping up to his front and gently laying your hands on the stiff cotton roll at his hips. “Let me just-“

“I don’t know what happened,” he whines, slotting his hands on top of yours and squirming in between them. “They were hard to get on, but-“

“Don’t worry,” you interrupted softly. “We’ll get them off you one way or another.”

The fearful reflection of your sharpest kitchen scissors in his eyes suggests that he believes you.

Your first two attempts are about as successful as Bokuto’s solo endeavours. First, you wedge your hands into the fabric at his sides while he pushes from the front and back, but you give a hard shove while he lets up on the tension and his elbow very nearly connects with your nose, so you try a different approach.

Coming round to his backside, you dig your hands into the space between his uniform shorts and the tight spandex that holds what’s left of his modesty.

“Okay,” you pant, already a little breathless after dodging Bokuto’s flying elbows. “What if I-“

“Hang on,” he prompts, but it’s too late. You wind up and jump as hard as you can, using the downward force generated to try and shove the confining waistband down over his hips. It slides down another couple of inches, and inspiration flares in your chest as Bokuto turns over one shoulder, sweating.

“It’s working!” Your voice comes shrill with excitement, and before he can stop you you’re jumping again, shoving even harder this time. You meet resistance this time, and before you can clue in to what’s pushing back Bokuto howls in pain and doubles over, clasping his palms between his thighs.

“Oh, fuck, baby, I’m sorry.” You drop to one knee beside him as he descends into pained laughter.

“���S alright,” he promises, “I didn’t want kids that bad, anyway.”

You can’t help the snort that bubbles forward from your chest. Bo straightens slowly as his pain fades, but you stay on your knees, determined to get him undressed without resorting to textile violence.

Determination settles heavy and proud across your shoulders. You look up through your brows at him and when your eyes meet, his cheeks pink softly.

“We got this.”

Bokuto’s throat bobs. He nods shallowly and pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

You slip your hands into his shorts again, rolling them slowly down his thighs. Bokuto averts his eyes, letting out another audible gulp. Just when you’re starting to get somewhere, his hips twitch and he shifts his weight restlessly from one leg to the other.

“Stand still,” you scold, giving his hip a little slap. His breath hitches, hands flinching forward as he dips his torso backward.

“Um,” he pants. When you look up at him again, his neck and ears are bright red and he’s got his eyes trained firmly on the Star Wars poster hanging above your desk.

You level your gaze and realize two things.

1) Bokuto’s not wearing anything under his white compression shorts.

2) Apparently, your little scare wasn’t nearly as painful for him as he let on.

“Babe,” you tease. “I’m flattered, really.”

“C’mon!” He protests, scraping his fingers through the wild strands of his sweat-clumped hair. “What’d you think was gonna happen if you got down there all…”

“All what?” You lean forward without thinking, nuzzling the spandex that sits in the groove between his hip and his thigh. He groans deeply, letting his head fall back. His cock, thickening at the base, is still restrained tightly by the waistband of his shorts. You can practically see it throb into its confines, and his groan pinches tight with discomfort.

“Baby, please.” He’s wound his hands tightly in the front of his t-shirt by now, rucking it up over his belly for some way to dispel the tension. “Get ‘em off. Please.”

“You’re not exactly making it easier.”

A desperate whine from over your head suggests that maybe the time for jokes is passing. You abandon all coyness and tuck your hand under the weight of his balls, gently tugging down on the waistband and freeing all of him from its confining pressure. Bokuto gasps and lets his hips swing forward, but his dick swells quickly to fill its new, spandex restraint and you figure you’d better work quickly.

“God, this is really turning you on, isn’t it?” You can’t help the eagerness in your tone as you attack the swell of his hips one last time. With all his sensitive parts in the clear you don’t have to hold back, wedging and wrenching until the widest part of his pelvis is free and the shorts drop to the floor with a soft little triumphant rustle.

Bokuto groans like he’d just been strapped to a time bomb, stepping out of the fabric and kicking it towards the door. He drops the hem of his shirt and reaches for you, but you’re already leaning in to nose against the crook of his thigh some more, peeling down the stretchy, forgiving top of his compression shorts.

“Wh- babe.” He flushes. “I haven’t showered-“

“Don’t care,” you hum, entranced by the hypnotic length of his shaft, white spandex stretched sheer and dabbed with wet at the tip. “Want to taste you.”

“Are you s- oh, you’re sure.” His hands surge forward, this time soothing lovingly over the crown of your head as you tug the stretchy fabric down to his knees. His cock bobs eagerly against one thigh, unaffected by its confining endeavour, and you lean in and seal your mouth against the seam of his groin, where his shaft meets his body.

He is bulky and broad, thick cords of muscle and fat spanning his thighs and torso. His thighs and pelvis are dusted all over with wiry silver hair, and you bury your nose into the trimmed patch of it over his cock, licking eagerly at his soft skin.

Above you, Bokuto shudders hard enough to buckle his knees while you trace your hand up the stiff length of him. You’re trying your best to hide just how deeply you want to breathe him in, the addicting musk of his sweat filling your brain and sending deep throbs of arousal straight to your pussy.

“So hard,” you groan into his hip, “just from letting me get on my knees for you?”  

He draws a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing at the back of your head as his eyelashes flutter. His face is beet red from nose to hairline now.

“W-well, what else was I s’posed to- with you lookin’…” He is borderline incoherent, and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet.

Adorable.

“You smell so good,” you murmur without thinking, flicking your eyes to his quickly when you realize what you’ve said. But it only serves to push his own arousal further, cock throbbing palpably between your fingers as he curses quietly through his teeth.

“Please,” he groans, letting his head roll back. “Don’t tease.”

You can’t deny a request as pleasantly worded as that.

After planting one more teasing kiss along the plane of his shaft, you draw back to his tip and give your tongue an enthusiastic flick, dipping it into his weeping slit. He yelps, and you swallow him down before he can ride out the shock, making him shiver. You can feel the tremor racking all the way down the column of his spine, his toes curling on the floor by your knees.

When you start to bob your head, his jaw goes completely slack. You’re learning to love the way he doesn’t hold back with you, a point made obvious by the expressions crossing his face as you settle into a steady rhythm. You can’t fit his entire length- impressive, not that he knows it- into your throat, but when you grip the base of his shaft with one hand and the spit from your throat drips eagerly between your fingers, he practically goes cross-eyed.

You fight the urge to smile around him, leaning into the way he fusses and grips at your skull.

“Nggh, babe, not gonna last long… when… suckin’ like that.” He’s grabbing your head with both hands, rocking his hips tightly forward in time with your gaudy slurping. You’re drooling all over your hand, spit dripping obscenely down your chin and onto the hardwood, but his whimpers are growing to obscene levels, punctuated by deep, chesty growls and quiet, slurred praise.

There’s no way you’re going to back off now.

You’ve been with Bo long enough to know his tells, so when his thighs start twitching and his voice pitches from his chest into his throat, you re-double your efforts, intensifying his pleasure until he’s howling and panting like a beast, rocking tightly into your mouth with his abs drawn tight as a bow.

“Ohhh, babe, lemme cum on your tits,” he pleads, slurring every syllable together as he looks down at you with unimaginable bliss mounting in his gaze. “Please, please, please, your tits, lemme cum on ‘em.”

With a smirk touching one corner of your mouth, you drop your free hand between his thighs. Until now it had been braced delicately on his hip, gently mitigating the wild bucks and twitches of his body giving into ecstasy. But you’d picked up one little trick that never failed to boost him over the edge- and send him falling that much further as a result.

As you draw your mouth back from his twitching cock, you close your free hand around the heavy sack of his balls- drawn up tight to his thighs in preparation for his orgasm- and give the supple skin a gentle little tug while you arch your back and jerk him off against the swell of your chest.

Bo’s voice shoots up a twelve-tone as his hands slide from your hair to your cheeks. His fingers tremble as he cups your face, throwing his head back with a wild yowl and wildly humping your fist. The first long spurt of his cum hits you square in the throat, dripping down between your collarbones and soaking the neckline of your tank top as he rides out the powerful waves of his climax. By the time it’s over, his thighs are shaking hard, tough lines of muscle standing out against the silver hair while his cock dribbles ripe streams right down your shirt.

He deflates with a heavy, heady sigh, falling to one knee in front of you and keeping your face gathered between his palms.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he moans, leaning in to capture your mouth and dip his tongue sloppily against yours. As soon as he’s found your lips he skates his hands down your shoulders to your breasts, lovingly cupping and thumbing the tightening buds of your nipples where thick shots of his cum are soaking into the white cotton. You can’t help the shaky little sigh that catches at the back of your throat, or the aching way you lean into his touch.

“G’nna-“ he cuts himself off, dipping his face into your throat. He licks into the tender column of your windpipe, bringing one big palm to the back of your neck to hold your head steady while he tucks his chin in and tastes the wet stripes of his cum that paint your décolletage. You’re not exactly sure what to expect, but the long, wet groan he lets into your chest is a pleasant surprise. He slides his hands from your neck to your shoulders to your sides and up the plane of your back, drawing you closer while he laps the mess from your collarbones and neckline.

“C’mon,” he mumbles into the swell of your left breast. “Gotta taste all of you.”

He slips his arms underneath you, lifting you with little more than a quiet grunt of effort as he gets to his feet. He holds you lovingly against his chest, striding slowly across the room and depositing you onto the bed with a smooth little bounce.

You hardly have the space to catch your breath before he braces a knee on the mattress beside you and leans down for another taste of your lips, kissing you slow and loving and skating a palm down your front. He slips his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, slipping his fingertips across your clit and making you yelp. Chuckling into your mouth, he dips his fingers lower and gasps.

“God,” he sighs. “Shoulda known you were holding out on me.” He sinks his middle finger into your clingy depths while he catches your mouth under his one more time. You’ve been unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, pinned sensuously under his touch, but as he curls his fingers against the restrictive insides of your leggings, you whine deep and slow into his mouth, arching your back to push your hips into his touch.

He doesn’t linger, drawing his hand from you and curling it in the waistband of your leggings instead. You’re slipping your fingers under the hem of your soiled tank top, pulling it up to expose the bare swell of your breasts.

“Let me?” He poses it like a question, pulling your leggings and underwear down and fluttering a kiss to the newly exposed skin below your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, already planting your feet in the fluffy sheets to lift your hips and help him undress you.

He pulls your leggings and underwear down over your hips in one smooth motion, pulling just a little harder than necessary to make you gasp and giggle. Your ass lands on the mattress all at once, punctuated by another handful of mirth that you can’t keep contained.

Bo’s grinning down at you as he balls up your clothes and tosses them toward the hamper like a mid-court basket shot. He doesn’t wait to find out if they made it, though, settling himself between your knees and gathering your hips into his arms.

“So soft,” he purrs, kissing the velvet skin of your tummy.

“Bo,” you whine. It’s your turn in the hot seat, and now the idea of teasing isn’t half as appealing as it was when you were on your knees.

“What? You don’t want me to take my time with you?”

You groan, letting your head flop back against the pillows as your eyes slip shut. Now that he’s got you bare, with his breath puffing hot and wanting over your tender skin, it’s hard to focus on anything but what you want.

“Don’t be mean,” you whine, but the hot press of his tongue on your inner thigh shuts you up fast. He moans low and rumbly against the damp of your skin, sinking his teeth gently into the fat of your thigh and giving a noisy suck.

“You’re so ready for it,” he muses, eyes darting sideways to admire your weeping slit. The buzz of his voice shoots right down the column of your spine, vibrating pleasantly at the base of your tailbone and sending goosebumps racing up your torso.

“Man,” Bo sighs, planting one hand on each thigh and pushing them apart. “You must really like suckin’ me off, huh?”

“I swear,” you grit. “I’m never touching your dick again if you don’t-“

He doesn’t waste another minute, leaning down and sealing his mouth greedily over your slit. The payoff is there for both of you, if the sound he makes when he dips his tongue between your folds is anything to go by.

The relief comes on swift wings as soon as he lets his tongue wander, stoking the fire that had been burning dangerously low and hot in your gut. Your thighs twitch in toward his ears while he tastes your messy slit, but his palms are as strong as shackles, keeping you open and vulnerable for him.

Bo prods his tongue forward, pressing inward as far as he can with a tiny little strained groan of effort. You cry out and clamp down around his tongue like a vice, a reaction he feels so vividly it makes him whip back from your body with a laugh.

“Don’t stopppp,” you plead, but his face is already disappearing between your thighs again, and you wrap your fingers in the hem of your tank top while he re-focuses his efforts on your swollen clit. He’s pressing his hips forward in a slow tempo that matches the patterns he tongues between your thighs, softly humping the mattress in time with your pleasure.

You’re sensitive and ready for him, stomach tightening smoothly when he settles into a rhythm. His technique is sloppy but he makes up for it in eagerness, pausing only to take deep breaths through his nose. He smiles into your skin and you can feel the way his mouth twitches against you, making you arch your back and slide one hand between your legs to rake through the silvery strands of his mussed hair. He grunts hard against your clit and you jump, giving him the chance to slip his hands under your thighs and hook them over his shoulders.

When he swallows you down this time, there’s something in the changed angle that drives pleasure straight down your back, letting it reverberate all the way into your toes. You flinch hard between his hands, and as he settles back into his messy, enthusiastic rhythm, you feel the telltale twinges of your building climax.

“Bo-“ you choke on his name.

He flicks his gaze to yours and his eyes flash, bright and golden. He knows your tells, too, and he sinks his fingers into the fat of your thighs, re-doubling his efforts and sucking a languid rhythm into your needy clit.

“Fuck,” you sputter. “Fuck, f-fuck, I-ah-“

Your mouth drops open, but the scream dies in your throat as white-hot pleasure bursts through your veins. Bokuto is heartbreakingly persistent, keeping up his ministrations while you claw at his hair and clamp your thighs down around his temples and ride the waves of your orgasm as gracefully as possible. By the time the sharp, burning pleasure’s raked its way through you, all your limbs have gone tense, and when it’s over you collapse, sweat-soaked, to the sheets beneath you.

Bo’s trembling between your legs, and when he surfaces his cheeks and ears are maroon. His cock is still twitching against his belly, bobbing as he gets onto his knees and still weeping long streams of spend.

“Oh.” The word flies from your throat before you can trap it, and he rubs your thighs soothingly with both hands as he takes a shaky, cleansing breath.

“You’re so-“ he starts to say, but you reach for him and he’s got no choice but to dip his cheek into your palm, flushing even deeper at the open way you stare.

“C’mere,” you prompt. Bo takes the bait and flops forward, landing stomach-first on the bed beside you and pillowing his head between your slick breasts. The position ought to be comical, but the weight of him is immensely soothing, rising and falling with the even pulse of your laboured breath.

You lie that way for a long while, staring vacantly past your reflection in the dark window beside your bed. The nighttime chill radiates through the glass, cooling your heated flesh. Your body aches with the fresh sensations of climax, but you’re not ready to put your clothes on yet.

“Bo.”

“Hmm?” It never occurred to you that he might be half-asleep until he winds himself upright, blinking weighty silver lashes against his still-blushing cheeks.

Still, you know how to wake him up. The conspiratory grin that touches your mouth is completely involuntary, and it’s enough to have Bokuto cocking a tired brow.

“Can I ride your cock?”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything at all. His eyes grow slowly bigger, focus drifting away from your face as his jaw drops. Literally.

“Bo? Baby?”

“Y- b- I… h-“ he sputters, blinking hard and shaking out his sweaty hair. He looks up at you again with an expression unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Like a kid at the zoo.

“Right now?”

You can’t hold back a snort, shoulders pitching forward. But he’s not kidding.

Neither are you.

You raise your eyebrows. “Is that a yes?”

By the time he rolls over, his cock’s already half-hard again, swelling against the strong cord of his right thigh. He sits up, scooting himself comfortably back against your bed’s stacked pillows. And when he reaches for you, you’re already rooting through the nightstand for supplies.

Bo’s a big dude, in every conceivable way. And while he’s never exactly been shy about that fact, he’s also painfully aware of the fact that with great power comes great responsibility. So when you start to warm a dollop of chilly water-based lube between your fingers, he doesn’t flinch.

“Mmmf.” He pushes his hips into your hands as you wrap them around his shaft, letting him swell into your palms while you slick him up. He’s still tender from before, and when you shift onto your knees your clit’s still tensing with leftover pleasure, but you’re buzzing with want. It hangs thick and heavy in the air between you. You’re unwilling to let it dissipate until you’re both completely satisfied.

By the time you’ve got the lube spread evenly from his base to his tip, Bo’s fully hard for you again, flushed and panting and grabbing at your hips as you scoot forward to straddle him. His impatience should probably bother you, but at this point it’s just endearing.

“Hmm, you’re so close,” you say, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. His mouth drops open as you bring his tip to your ready sex. Your pussy clamps involuntarily around the swell of his weeping head, and you’re panting into each others’ mouths as your hips sink slowly backward. The fill of him presses up into your belly, and you bottom out with a little flinch of discomfort, settling your thighs over his. He’s long enough that it actually hurts to take him in all the way like this, but you’re willing to put up with it for a minute while you get adjusted.

“Look at you.” Bokuto’s eyes rake up and down your trembling form, keeping time with his strong palms that rub soothing circles into the flesh of your hips. You shift a little, making him twitch and grunt. His thighs strain, struggling to keep from bucking upward against your tender cervix.

He lets out a deep, shaky sigh through pursed lips. “You’re so f-fucking perfect, you know that?”

You’re concentrating on tucking your knees underneath you for proper leverage, but he never fails to make you smile.

“I haven’t even started moving yet,” you breathe, bracing one hand on his shoulder. Once you’re stabilized, you lift your hips slowly forward, letting the thickness of him pull slowly from your slick depths. Bokuto’s head falls back against the pillows, beet red with exertion already.

“God,” he groans, bringing one hand around to your ass. “More, baby.”

You swallow hard, grip his hips tightly between your knees, and swirl your hips in a careful, tight little circle. It’s a subtle movement from the outside, but where you’re joined it rubs the thick ridge of his tip along all your tenderest nerve endings, sending powerful surges of pleasure vibrating into your chest.

Bokuto’s feeling it, too, the hard angles of his jaw standing out as he clenches his teeth. His silvery lashes rest heavily over his flushed cheeks, giving you little more than a bare peek of his dark, tawny eyes with the pupils blown wide in ecstasy.

“Just like that,” he prompts when you angle your hips forward, pinning your abused clit against his pubic bone and continuing to grind greedily over his shaft. He interrupts your rhythm with a sharp little pat to your ass, making your hips jump forward and giving him an opening to lower his chin and seal his mouth in the crook of your shoulder.

“Fu-uck,” you whine, looping both arms under his and clutching tightly at his back as your rhythm grows more urgent. You know how to work yourself to the peak easily, using his powerful body and thick cock to your every advantage.

“You’re close already,” he pants in your ear. “Oh, man, I can feel it. Don’t-“ His hips jerk backward, choking him on a surge of pleasure that washes over both of you.

“Don’t hold back for me, baby. I c’n… take it, yeah, that’s it.”

The low rumble of his voice in your ear reverberates all the way down to the pit of your stomach, cocktailing with the pleasure you’re grinding out yourself, and when he grabs your ass with both hands and rocks his tip against the gooey-sweet spot on your upper wall, you’re lost.

“Bo,” you whimper, grabbing tightly at the muscles in his back as your thighs start to shake. “Fuck, oh, fuck, ohfuck-“

The peak crests quietly between you, but quickly bleeds into every limb. You’re powerless to do anything but cling to him and whine in his ear as your hips stutter and twitch and grind over his stirring cock. Just when you think the wave is subsiding, Bokuto glides his hips beneath yours again and draws it out into a tight, near-painful shudder. Your vision whites out, then flashes black as you squeeze your eyes shut and lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Fuck.” Bo’s cursing as you come back to the surface, humping shallowly into your spent body. The lube you used squelches obscenely with the handfuls of slick your climax brought forth, numbing your used insides to his desperate thrusts. “Fuck, you’re so- you’re so- ohgod, inside, I-“

He goes completely incoherent as he finds his own pleasure, shoving his hips tightly against yours. His balls draw tight beneath you, thighs twitching as thick, heady warmth fills your belly. You’re addicted to the fullness he leaves in you without fail, the mess between you when he goes slack and you draw your hips backward to let his falling erection slide out of you.

Your roommate’ll be back from the library at any second. You should be getting up and dressing yourselves, making some attempt at feigning innocence before she comes in. But the bedroom door is closed and it’s far too easy to tumble back into the haphazard embrace from before, cum collecting sticky and hot between your thighs as Bokuto buries his face between your tits.

“D’you think they’ll stretch?” he mumbles into your skin, once your pulse has finally slowed to its regular pace.

“Hmm?” In your pleasure-addled haze, you don’t follow. Bokuto lifts his face from your flesh, resting his chin gently on your sternum.

“My shorts.”

Right.

“Uh-“ You have to purse your lips hard, to keep the dumb smile from showing on them. You take a slow pass of air in through your nose and lift your fingers to comb soothingly through his sweaty hair.

“We’ll make them fit,” you promise. “Somehow.”

Before he buries his face in your chest again, you catch the pure, blissed smile that stretches his cheeks. He slips his eyes shut, nuzzling you tenderly and kissing the swell of one breast.

“Good,” he sighs. And then, bare-assed, sweaty and sticky, he falls asleep.

You spy the shorts, still lying in a crumpled heap by the bathroom door. You make a mental note to check the brand and sizing later, before he leaves.

You’ll make then fit again.

Somehow.

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (7)

IT’S FINALLY HERE! MY FAVORITE CHAPTER OF THIS SERIES!!! Consider it a little Christmas gift from me to y’all :) there’s plenty more to come, but I loveee the vibes of this one so much

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 3491

Warnings: Some language but I’m pretty sure that’s it

% approximately the end of the 2nd week of October %

You stood on the Holland’s front porch Sunday afternoon holding a rust red jumpsuit over one shoulder and your volleyball bag on the other. 

It was nippy out, probably 50-something fahrenheit, but you’d tucked your long sleeved jersey into some black sweats and tossed on your letterman. You had decided to wear your favorite jersey, which was black except for the stripe down each sleeve in your school colors and the white words and number on the torso.

Since you were taking pictures, you straightened your hair again and put on some light makeup to complete the look.

Paddy opened the front door, looking star struck.

“Oh, hey Paddy. How are you?”

He stared up at you, flustered.

“I, um. Good?”

You gave a big smile.

“Good to hear. Mind if I come in? It’s kinda cold out.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

He stepped out of the way and shut the door behind you. Inside, Tom was running around frantically, grabbing various clothing items and stuffing them in a bag. He noticed you as he passed by.

“Hey, y/n. Sorry, just trying to get all my football stuff together. It just came out of the dryer.”

You watched in amusement as he rushed back and forth. Nikki came and stood next to you.

“I love my sons, but they can be a real mess sometimes,” she joked. “Let's go put your things in the car while he gets himself together.”

You set the bag in the back of her SUV and hung the jumpsuit hanger on a loop to prevent it from wrinkling. You were talking in the garage when Tom burst through the door, a duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Okay, sorry. I couldn’t find one of my cleats,” he explained, tossing his own bag in the back. He didn’t yet put on his uniform since the pads would get uncomfortable, so Tom just wore some jeans and a tee for the ride.

“Y/n, do you want to hop in front? I’m sure Tom wouldn’t mind,” Nikki said, raising her eyebrows at her son.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind either way.”

“It’s fine. We can just switch on the way home,” Tom replied. You found it odd that he didn’t press but assumed it had something to do with his mom standing nearby.

With that, you loaded up and started the hour long drive. The time passed quickly as you conversed with Nikki, telling her about your plans for after high school. In the backseat, Tom dabbed a little bit of his mom's foundation over the still-discolored parts of his cheek.

Eventually, you got to a small neighborhood and pulled up to a cute cabin. As you and Tom retrieved your things from the trunk, an elderly couple appeared on the front porch.

“Hey, mom. Hey, dad,” Nikki began, hugging them. She gestured to you, “This is y/n. You might recognize her from Tom’s soccer games and some academic things, she’s on the girls team and very smart.”

You blushed at the compliments.

“Why, yes, I have seen you. It’s nice to meet you, dear. Just call us grandma and grandpa,” Nikki’s mother said as you were shaking hands with her husband. 

She walked up and enveloped you in a hug. As you awkwardly wrapped your own arms around her, you looked over her shoulder to find Tom shrugging sheepishly at you.

She pulled away, holding you at an arm's length.

“Well you are just the prettiest thing, aren’t you?” You blushed at her kindness and thanked her. “Now what are we all doing standing around out here? Come on in! I made cookies while you were on the way so they’re still warm.”

She ushered everyone in, Tom holding open the screen door for the group. Tom directed you to a spare room to set down your bags and hang your jumpsuit while Nikki got her camera things together.

You were sat around the dining room eating cookies discussing the afternoon’s timeline. You and Tom would take your sports pictures, then everyone would eat around five, and then you’d go back out in regular clothes for golden hour at around six.

After a few minutes, Nikki finished getting her lens ready.

“Okay. Tom, why don’t you go put on your football uniform and meet us down at the dock. Y/n, do you need to get anything else for your volleyball pictures?”

You answered yes, walking with Tom to the room to grab your volleyball shoes and ball. You were waiting to take off your sweatpants until you got outside for two reasons: it was cold, and you felt weird about walking around his grandparents’ house in only spandex shorts.

The dock wasn’t far, you could see it from the top of the wooden staircase built into the side of the hill the cabin sat on.

You and Nikki conversed as you walked down, discussing ideas of poses and where you’d stand.

You shimmied out of your sweats once you got to the dock, draping them over a metal chair covered in dead leaves. The cold air gave your legs goosebumps, but you sucked it up. You were just glad you’d remembered to shave your legs above anything else. 

Nikki directed you around some trees, had you toss your hair over your shoulder, and took a few pictures with you in your letterman. It had been about 15 minutes when Tom came down in his football gear, helmet and ball in hand.

“Oh, perfect. Tom, would you mind tossing some leaves for me? I have a neat idea for a shot.”

She had you stand in front of the water and palm the volleyball as Tom sent a handful of leaves in the air around you. You tried a few with a serious expression and some while laughing. After a few more shots that included you sitting on the dock, she had Tom jump in next to you.

“Okay, y/n, I want you to stand with the ball on your right side like that, and then Tom, get on her left and hold the helmet by the facemask,” she pointed around, guiding you. “Good! Okay now y/n, put your weight on your left leg and Tom, raise your chin. Serious faces people!” 

There were clicks and flashes as she continued to direct you in slightly different poses. One cool shot had each of you palming your respective sports balls in front of you.

“Okay, are you good with those, y/n? Is there anything else you want in your jersey before I start working on Tom’s?” 

You shook your head and gestured for her to move on with Tom’s pictures. By now your legs were used to the cold, so you refrained from putting your sweats back on, instead just standing behind Nikki watching Tom model like he’d been doing it his whole life.

Oh right… he has

His mom and he worked together well, as if they were reading each other’s minds. 

You studied the way Tom looked. After all these years, you’d never really looked at him intently enough to see the way he filled out his uniform so well. 

His biceps bulged when he moved his arms to flex for a couple shots, and the tight pants and pads around his legs gave the illusion of massive thigh muscles. As you looked back up, his necklace caught your eye. 

He hadn’t tucked it in completely, instead letting it dangle over his jersey, the red “ruby” glinting in the afternoon sunlight. You smiled at the fact he’d left it on, then looked down at your own hand. You’d forgotten to take yours off, too.

Would it be noticeable in the pictures? Was there a possibility family members would start asking if you’d secretly gotten engaged when you eventually shared the shots online? Maybe, but you decided it wasn’t a big enough deal to worry about. Some had already pestered you Friday at dinner.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been out there when a cowbell began ringing from above you. 

“Oh! That’s mom. Dinner must be about ready. Let’s head back up. I think we got enough, Tom,” Nikki explained.

She started heading up the stairs as you grabbed your ball and sweats, and Tom was waiting for you at the bottom, holding his jersey and pads so he was only left in a compression shirt on top. He started up a few steps ahead of you. 

Woah. His ass looks really nice in those pants was the first thought that popped into your head when you looked up. Oh wait. Shit, what am I saying?

You tried to avoid looking as you continued up the hill. By the time you reached the top, Nikki was already entering the house and Tom was again waiting for you. You passed right by him when he spoke up.

“You’re really gonna go in the house like that?”

You stopped and turned back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you really want to walk into the home of my elderly grandparents with your ass hanging out?”

Right. The whole point of the sweats.

You set the volleyball down while you pulled them on.

“Now I’m not going to say that I minded the view or anything but-” you slapped him in the chest before you tugged on the waistband, hopping a little to make them sit just right and tightening the strings, then picked your ball off the ground.

“Don’t be talking about my ass that way! Nasty.”

“Sorry, sorry, I had to say it.” He put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Well if you’re gonna say that, then I’m allowed to do this,” you said, right before giving him a light slap on his own butt and darting to the house.

“Ohhh, I’ll get you for that!” he cried, following you in.

You were both chattering as you entered the dining room, where Nikki and her parents were setting up the tableware.

“Alrighty, we have some roast chicken and potatoes and green beans tonight. Hope you all enjoy!” the older woman said before sitting down. The smell made your stomach growl quietly.

You all made up plates and chowed down. Tom’s grandpa sat at the head of the table, with his wife and daughter on his left, and Tom and you on the right.

You and Tom were talking about school things when his grandma addressed you.

“So, y/n. How long have you and Tom been dating?” 

You furrowed your brows, then looked between Tom and her, an awkward tension filling the room.

“Um, grandma… she isn’t my girlfriend,” Tom said for you. You gave him a light squeeze on the thigh to signify thanks.

“Oh! Oh my goodness I had no idea! You two just seemed so close that I just assumed you were together. Sorry about that!”

You talked a little bit longer as you finished dinner, but now things felt a little uncomfortable. 

What were we doing that seemed couple-y? Could they see our little spat outside?

You took your plates to the kitchen before heading back with Tom to change into your other clothes. Since it was already almost six, you both just changed in the room, backs to each other.

You slid out of your sweats and tugged off the jersey, leaving on the spandex shorts under your jumpsuit since they didn’t show through. It was sleeveless, so you needed to change into a different bra. You glanced behind you quickly to make sure Tom was still turned around.

He was, but he was butt ass naked. You turned back towards the wall quickly, eyes wide. You assumed it had to do with the fact he wore a jockstrap under his uniform, but dear God did he have to take off everything at once?

You were scarred to say the least.

You ripped off one bra and fumbled to put the other one on before sliding the shoulder straps of your outfit on all the way. By the time you were done, Tom was at least wearing jeans and tugging on a white tee.

You finally slipped on some wedges and refixed your hair in the mirror. 

“Ready to head down?” you asked.

“Why don’t you go on without me. I’ll be down here in a few. I need to restyle my hair,” he explained, sliding his own letterman jacket on. 

You accepted that and headed back outside and down the steps where Nikki was waiting, shooting pictures of the lake.

“Oh, I love that color on you, it compliments the autumn theme well,” Nikki said as you began taking pictures. Eventually Tom appeared, too. He had another shirt in hand for when he was done with his letter jacket.

You let them take those pictures real quick, and then Tom changed, buttoning up a flannel that’s colors matched your own outfit. You were sitting on the dock balcony posing when Tom appeared next to his mother, who noticed the coordination immediately.

“This is amazing! Tom, go stand in front of y/n and cross your arms, and y/n, drape an arm over his shoulder… uh huh just like that… yes that’s good!” she directed you.

Tom helped you hop down after a few different shots and you went to stand with Nikki as she took more photos of her son.

The sun was setting quickly, so she was about to call it a night.

“Okay, you two, I just need you to get together for a couple final pictures. Act like you like each other for at least a few minutes.”

You couldn’t help but snort as you stepped up next to Tom, him putting an arm over your shoulder as your arm snaked around his waist. She was taking pictures when Tom muttered out the corner of his mouth,

“Your hand’s a little close there.”

Knowing exactly what he meant, you slid your hand down his back, resting it on top of his butt.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you feigned innocence. 

He gave you a look that said “I’m onto you,” so you did what any rational person would do in that scenario. 

You squeezed his buttcheek. 

It must have scared him or tickled or something, because he about jumped from his skin, jaw dropped.

“Oh I’ll get you for that now!” he exclaimed, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder.

You squealed and laughed and kicked your legs as one hand traveled along your waist tickling you. In the chaos, you didn’t notice the rapid clicks of the camera shutter. He kept you off the ground for a few more seconds before finally setting you down carefully.

“Rethinking that now?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amusement as you stared up at him, pouting. 

“I’d do it again just to see your jaw hit the floor honestly.”

He rolled his eyes when some lights around the deck kicked on, not adding much brightness to the darkening sky.

“Well that looks like our cue to wrap things up. The lights going up the stairs won’t be much better, and I don’t want anyone to fall,” Nikki explained.

Once again, she headed up first, leaving the two of you somewhat alone. Now that it was dark, the air made you grab your upper arms and shiver.

“Here, put this on,” Tom said, holding up his letter jacket.

“Oh, I’m fine. It’ll only take a minute to get to the house.”

“No seriously, you look like you’re freezing. Plus, I won’t have to carry it,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes and snatched it from his hand, sliding your bare arms into the sleeves. His jacket was at least a size bigger than yours, so it basically swallowed you. He chuckled.

“Come on. I don’t want you getting lost up the stairs since you’ve practically disappeared under my jacket.”

He put his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to step ahead of him as the darkness began to set in.

% 

You’d changed back into your sweats and put on a tee and your own letter jacket and were now loading up Nikki’s car to head back home. 

After walking back to the house, you had all sat around and visited a bit longer until realizing it was half past nine and there was an hour’s drive ahead of you.

“Come back anytime, dear. You were a real delight,” Nikki’s mom said, squeezing you into another hug. 

“Thank you, grandma. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Will you be at Tom’s senior night here in a few weeks? I’d love to see you there,” she said, holding your hands in hers.

“Yeah, I always try to go to the games. I’m hoping to be on homecoming court this year, too, so fingers crossed.”

“Oh, sweetie, if they don’t vote you queen, I’ll personally come count the votes myself,” she joked, shaking her head. 

You laughed and after final goodbyes, climbed into the back seat, expecting Tom to go up front. Instead, he slid into the other side of the back row.

“You can sit up front, Tom. I’m happy to stay back here,” you explained, showing that you’d already buckled in.

“Oh it’s alright. I’ve already sat down, we can both stay.”

You again found it odd that he was willing to do so, but didn’t push the matter.

Having spent most of the afternoon with Tom’s family, you hadn’t looked at your phone much as not to seem rude, so you immediately began responding to snaps and scrolling through social media.

Tom, on the other hand, was watching Tiktoks. 

“Hey, watch this,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and sliding into the middle spot next to you, refastening himself in.

“You could have just given me your phone,” you said, eyebrows raised.

“Like I could trust you with that.”

He handed over an AirPod and you watched together, laughing. He continued to scroll through his for you page while you looked on. 

After a while, your neck became strained, so you resorted to leaning your head on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, instead only tilting his cheek to rest on your head as you continued in silence. 

A little bit later, he left the app and went to Spotify, turning on a playlist containing songs with soft beats that made you sleepy. 

You didn’t realize how tired you really were until you were being shaken awake by your nemesis, sitting up straight in realization of what happened. 

“Hey, we’re about to pull into my neighborhood,” he whispered. You just nodded in response, trying to compose yourself.

Nikki pulled into the garage and you began collecting your things from the back.

“Y/n, would you like to stay in the guest room tonight? It’s almost eleven and I wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe going home.”

You thought about it for a moment before realizing you had no extra clothes and well… Tom.

“Oh that’s alright, my house is only 10 minutes away. Thank you though,” you told her as the three of you entered the home. 

Nikki said her goodbyes and disappeared up the stairs for the third time that day, once again leaving you and Tom alone.

“Why don’t I walk you to your car?” Tom offered, opening the front door. You unlocked the car and Tom opened the back door for you to set your things in it. You were about to leave when something popped into your mind.

“Thanks again for clarifying to your grandma earlier. I didn’t want to break her heart but I wasn’t sure how to let her down nicely. She seemed so excited,” you explained.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty sure she would have asked any girl the same question. But she really did like you, grandpa too. He doesn’t quite show it like her.”

“That’s sweet. I enjoyed hanging out with them this evening, and the food was incredible.”

“She does make some of the best food you’ll ever eat, but you should taste grandpa’s grilled steaks. Those are a real treat.”

“Well, you’ll have to bring me again some time. Oh, and thanks for letting me use you as a pillow in the car. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

You knew your face had turned pink, but you could see Tom’s redden as well.

“Don’t mention it. I actually ended up sleeping for a little bit, too.”

A silence fell around you, so you eventually said your goodbyes and hopped into your driver’s seat. 

You watched in your rearview mirror as Tom stayed standing on his sidewalk until you had driven a few yards off, eventually meandering back to the house.

There was a familiar flutter in your stomach as your lips turned up into a smile.

Maybe he’s not as bad as I always thought.

%

A/N: omg I’m so happy to finally post this y’all have no idea. Hope you enjoyed! As always, feel free to send asks about anything or just say hi!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads,

[mrsromeave]

i never understood why katelyn was so aggressive with travis and kinda rude in mys s1 and pdh, (before s2, travis actually had development with katelyn with the whole hitting thing at this point) and then i had someone touch me like that. yeah, if the person that did that to me kept repeatedly doing that, i would be mad too.

and that one scene where travis scorekeeped a volleyball game just to see katelyn’s butt i believe? yeah i played volleyball for 6 years and we had a big issue with guys making comments about girls spandex and just coming for that and it was super awful and degrading.

I feel like people in the mcd mys fanbase collectively forget that sexual assault was kinda sorta romanticized as a “oh haha he’s just a Casanova lover boy lol” with laurance and Travis do not get me wrong I love both of them but like????? Some of the things they did were like uhm wait a minute what the fuck? Esp Travis in mcd and mys up until a season I don’t remember when, but like yeah maybe we should mention that

[harper-hook]

Day Six- Guilty Pleasure | Tessa Bell

Day Six- Guilty Pleasure: What does your OC like to do that they never tell anyone that they do? Does anyone ever find out?

Tessa likes to buy really lacy bras and underwear for no other reason than just to have them. She has a big drawer full of them. She also likes to wear spandex volleyball shorts because she thinks they make her butt look good.

[asahiwasabi]

nekoma girls team

okay i don’t have names but i’ve got some basic personalities and positions laid out. i’ll upload some sketches soon

important things:

black uniforms with red stripes down the side, numbers in white lines with red

black spandex for home, red spandex for away

white warmups with their numbers on the back

their coach is someone who used to play professionally but they retired after a knee injury or something

okay players under the cut here we go

NUMBER ONE

libero

5 foot nothing

tiny tiny tiny. #3 and #4 pick her up and carry her around a lot. she loves piggy back rides.

she is by far the loudest in the entire room at any given time

also v fast

she gets angry real quick and is also quick to blame herself when things go bad (even though she’s usually playing great)

she gives five stars to everyone as encouragement and that’s why everyone’s thighs are as red as their uniforms

thick as thieves with #3 and #9

always down to do something absolutely NUTS and is the most likely culprit for anything that goes wrong

boy crazy in a Tanaka kind of way but also hella sarcastic

third year

NUMBER TWO

outside (wing spiker, whatever, i learned it as the outside hitter)

she’s 5′2″ but has a 30″ vertical (that’s 100% based off of someone i used to play with it was crazy. she jumped so high.)

hits the hardest as well, but not very good at blocking because she always angles her hand wrong

quiet for the most part but is real sweet and is NOT afraid to tell you like it is

really cute too

jump serve that isn’t very hard but it’s pretty accurate

besties with #5

second year

NUMBER THREE

defensive specialist (DS) and also pinch server and also pinch hitter and also pinch back row

she goes in whenever someone messes up or when they need to change tempo

the best defensive player on the team

if you could have another vice captain it’d be her because she’s like a mama bear and is so sweet n supportive but also v funny. jokester and she gets along with everyone

absolutely INSANE at game strategy. holy shit. can read players like no other and practically coaches the team during games.

she’s got a mean jump float serve that is 96% accurate and makes it over the net 99% of the time. too good.

can’t jump high though. only 5′5″

big heart bigger butt

she’s also the manager for the boys team in the off season. something’s going on with her and kuroo but idk what

second year

NUMBER FOUR

middle hitter

5′10″ with a 18″ vertical

an absolute MACHINE on the court holy man. she’s super consistent with hits and avoids blocks like crazy and hits hard and blocks just about everything that comes her way.

she’s the ace. super funny and humble about it but not afraid to put other teams in their place

ranked number 5 in the nation probably

most common phrase is “they said whaaaaaaat??” because they can’t believe how dumb some ppl are. 

super nice and funny and loves her team so much. good friends with #1 3 and 9 as well. gets along with everyone. went to the same middle school as #7 and 8

third year

NUMBER FIVE

outside hitter

5′9″ and is pretty good at blocking basic hits. if you got no strategy you are straight up shut down.

really strong hits (she’s GREAT at line shots and tools) but is really inconsistent

she gets in her own head a lot :(

very very kind

very very confused

very very hot (legs for d a y s)

first year

NUMBER SIX

middle hitter

six foot six foot six foot and her arms are long like noodles

literally all leg and arm. so long

can be kinda emo but she’s pretty funny

she and lev probs hang out because they’re both real tall and they’d be cute idk

she could be the ace if she didn’t get in her head all the gd time

second year

NUMBER SEVEN

right side hitter

5′8″

she’s timid and has real bad self esteem, so she self destructs during matches a lot

#3 goes in for her back row and serving and sometimes for front row when it gets bad

but honestly? during practices she’s real good and if she could just chill a bit she’d be so good!!! calm down!!! it’s just a game!!!!!!

first year

NUMBER EIGHT

benchwarmer tbh but sometimes goes in for #5′s back row

5′6″ and hella apathetic

only in it for the spandex tbh

tries to help #3 with managing the boys team but she just flirts with everyone the whole time

they find out towards the end of her first season that she’s actually a ridiculously good setter??? she doesn’t know how she does it

pretends like she knew the whole time

this is literally her first year playing volleyball she just likes the uniforms

first year

NUMBER NINE

the best girl the best girl

setter and captain!!!!!

5′9″ and solid as a truck. wears the biggest jersey because she’s got the biggest biceps (and heart)

she could honestly rip you apart with her bare hands but she is too sweet to ever even think about it

honestly the sweetest person on the face of the earth

she’s the only one i have a nickname for because i love her

she goes by CJ but the team calls her JC because her sets are so godly she must be jesus christ

whenever anyone does anything good they get awarded a “jc buck” which basically amounts to a high five from #3 and a five star from #1

she’s had a massive crush on a girl in their year for like eight years and #1 and #3 are the worst wingmen ever but they try

god do they try

helps with managing the boys team as well but mostly from a statistical standpoint because she’s crazy good at math

third year

so that’s p much all i have so far. #1, 3, 4, 8, and 9 would be the main characters, and it’d probably be about teaching #8 how to care about the sport she’s playing or something.

OTHER FUN FACTS

#1 and #2 are usually the ones who participate in sports festival day for their schools and #3 and 4 show up in full face paint with flags and a banner that #9 made

#3 is literally a mama bear. idk what she’s gonna do once her besties graduate. she also might have a crush on #8 idk. but she deffo has something going on with kuroo.

they scrimmage with the boys team for fun all the time. the girls team usually shows up and plays in their summer tournament things because they’re crazy good

#3 and kenma have strategy sessions that usually ends up in them both playing pokemon on their phones

#6 is taller than half the boys team and she doesn’t let them forget it

the boys always go nuts over #5 cuz she’s hella hot but #2 dropkicks them

#3 will be the captain next year and #2 will probably be the ace

#9 has like six colleges after her but she just wants to play volleyball

once i have sketches ill post more idk feel free to send ideas and ill write a story or something