It’s not lame dear! Thank you for participating and sending
me characters I’ve never really written for. I think I’ve had one head canon
for Kenma. I had a fun time writing these and hope you enjoy!

---

Kenma

“What’s in it for me?” Kuroo’s eyebrow cocks up, a smug smirk on his face.

“I’ll get you a date with Yachi-san,” you offer.

“Pfft, I can get my own dates, thank you very
much,” he complains.

“Sure, if she’d stand still long enough for you to ask
and even then, I’m not sure it would work without a little input from me.”

By the dusting of pink on his cheeks and slight irritation
in his eyes you know you’ve got him.

“Fine, but he’s going to kill both of us you
know,” he concedes.

“You let me worry about that.”

Kuroo puts his plan into action the next day, stealing away
Kenma’s shower basket in the morning and hiding it well enough that by the time
the annoyed setter finds it that evening he’s the very last to use the showers.

Grumbling to himself about revenge against the scheming
captain, he starts to wash, eyes closed as he takes a deep breath to try to
calm down from the day.

As you step into the locker room your heart drums with
nervous excitement. The steam rolls around you like a blanket, erupting sweat
on your brow and warming your body though you don’t need the external assistance
to feel a burning heat. The smell of clean springs wafts through the room mixed
with a scent that can only be described as distinctly male creating a rather
heady concoction that adds to the thrum in your pulse.

The latching of the lock catches Kenma’s attention, his soft
voice echoing off the tiles as he calls out, “Who’s there?”

When you come around the corner, Kenma inhales sharply, his
hands flying to cover himself.

You click your tongue, shaking your head as you admonish, “Still
so shy, Kenma-kun.” Stalking forward, you slowly undo the tie at your
waist. The falling terry cloth reveals blemish free skin to his vision and you
don’t miss the momentary flash of heat in his eyes.

“________-chan, what are you doing?” His tone
tries for annoyance but your ears are tuned to his nuances; he’s interested
despite his play for indifference to your state of undress.

“You’re too smart to play dumb, Kenma-kun,” you hiss as the hot water kisses your skin. Slick flesh meets slick
flesh when you seal a half-hearted protest from his mouth with your own. You
kiss him gingerly, fingers carding through wet hair and he moans low in the
back of his throat. Kenma’s hands instinctively reach for you, grasping your
hips firmly, thumbs trailing back and forth with nervous energy.

He pulls away to gather a shaky breath, meeting your eyes
with his own half hooded.

“I should have known something was up. Kuroo helped you,
didn’t he?”

“Mmhmmmm,” you purr, finger tracing a line down
the center of his chest. You follow its trajectory, knees landing on the tile
below. “Don’t be too angry with him,” you sigh, lips teasing against
his firming length, “I played dirty.”

“Yachi-san?” he pants as you take him in.

Your hum of confirmation vibrates up his flesh shooting
tendrils of pleasure from the base of his spine upwards pulling goosebumps to
the surface of his heated skin. His hand settles in your hair, breath and heart
rate increasing as he groans, “You’re impossible.”

You smile around him, releasing just enough to assert,
“But you love me anyway.”

His pulling you back into position confirms your conviction
and you return focus on the task of getting him off before the coaches get
suspicious.

---

Ennoshita

“Chikara-kun,” you moan, hands clenching his jersey tight enough
that your knuckles almost turn white, “we can’t do this here!” Your words end
on a hiss as his teeth scrape against your collar bone, hands pressing you
firmly to the wall of the abandoned classroom he pulled you into. Seems he
found the dingy, dark place while touring the grounds at night with the other
second years, something about setting up a ghost prank for the first years but
your surprisingly devious boyfriend had much more salacious intentions in mind.

“Shhhh, don’t make so much noise, _____-chan, you don’t want
anyone to find us, do you?” he whispers, breath tickling the fine hairs of your
ear making you shiver. His lips cover yours in a passionate kiss, his hold
tightening to an almost bruising degree. A whimper crawls up your throat,
finger nails scraping against the vinyl number on his back.

“Is this anyway for a future captain to be behaving? What
kind of example are you setting?” you scold once your kiss abused lips are
released in favor of gaining more oxygen. You wish your tone held more
authority but it’s a rather difficult ask when his hands are trailing up the
inside of your shirt. Wrapping a strong hand around one breast he squeezes
earning a shuddering groan.

“If I told you the number of times I caught Daichi knuckle
deep in Michimiya-san it would make your head spin, so to answer your question,”
he pinches a nipple through the tautness of your bra making you arch further
into his touch, “I’d say I’m just following in his footsteps.”

You choke on your breath, head hitting the wall with a thud.
With your eyes closed you can’t see the smirk on Chikara’s face but you can
definitely feel it. His mouth latches back onto your pulse point as he trails
his hand back down over your stomach, fingers toying with the edges of your
waistband. His teasing is getting to be unbearable and you wish he’d either stop
now or just get on with it.

“Is that so?” he asks and you realize you must have voiced
your complaint aloud. “Well then,” he goes on, hand breaking the threshold of
your pants, “if you’re going to be so accommodating, who am I to turn down an
invitation like that?”

He pushes past the hem of your panties, fingers grazing the
top of your sex before rubbing softly against where you need him most but the
friction is too light, not enough to really give you what you need. You keen
and moan, head thrashing back and forth. Before long you’re begging, pleading
with him to finish what he started.

A low heated chuckle, laced with lustful intent hits your
ears. “You’re so pretty when you beg,” he admires, finally sinking two digits
into the sweltering heat between your thighs.

You sigh his name, hitching your leg over his hip to grant
him further access to your inner most being.

“I hope you weren’t hungry,” he warns, “because we’re going
to be missing dinner it seems.” As he drops to his knees, dragging your bottoms
with him, he shoots you a ravenous look. “Although I plan to get my fill of
dessert.”

---

Hanamaki

Giggling wildly under your breath, you pull tightly on
Hanamaki’s hand leading the tall male around the corner of the building where
your team is housed for your training camp. His face is inscrutable but
curiosity has begun to shine as you quickly make your way under the cover of
darkness towards where the buses are parked. Shooting a look over your
shoulder, you wink at him as you draw up a key. Without a word, you unlock one
of the doors, tugging him inside before gingerly shutting it so as not to draw attention.

“______-chan, what are you up to?” the wing spiker asks,
smile tugging at his lips.

You send him a coy look, pushing against his chest until he
plops down on one of the bench seats. He’s barely settled before you’re straddling
his thighs and sitting upon his lap.

“I’m giving you a reward,” you admit, “you did so well
today.” Your lips touch his cheek lightly in quick pecks until you reach his
ear where you whisper, “Do you know how hot and bothered I get watching you
play?”

Hanamaki can’t stop the groan he releases, grasping your ass
firmly. You love the feel of his large, strong hands on you anywhere and
everywhere but he seems to have a thing for your butt and so you make sure to
put yourself in positions where he can access it easily; pleasure for him means
pleasure for you.

“I love watching you spike the ball,” you confess, tongue
trailing the edge of his ear. You feel him shudder as you grind down on him,
his member already firm just from the tone of your voice.

“You look so sexy, covered in sweat, smelling like musk, it’s
like a drug.” Your voice is raspy, filled with longing.

Hanamaki can’t take it anymore, pressing you down roughly as he pushes up, his firmness making you gasp as pleasure shoots through you like
a lightning bolt. His lips latch onto your neck, fierce and powerful, hands
reaching under your shirt. In a few motions, he’s released your breasts,
pushing up the material of your bra as he palms the weighted flesh. Fingers tweek
your nipples making you keen and arch your back, head tossed allowing your hair
to flow freely behind you.

You work your hips in circles, increasing the speed to
create more friction. You’d intended to take your time, really tease him up but
Hanamaki has a way of making you lose your focus. He tugs you forward, lips
crashing to yours in a kiss that threatens to drown you. His tongue is hot and
wicked, dominating yours easily making you whimper and sigh.

He rips away from you, a guttural moan erupting from his
chest as he reaches his climax and you feel his length twitching against your
still clothed sex. Without warning, he thrusts his hand into your panties,
curling a finger up and into your body.

“Taka-kun!” you shout, voice bouncing off the roof of the
bus. His thumb finds your pleasure, circling over and over making your body
heat up rapidly.

His ministrations do their work, catapulting you into and
through a mind shattering orgasm that leaves your thighs wet and shaking. When
you’ve calmed down a bit, he pulls his hand away, cleaning the evidence of your
arousal from his hand with a dexterous tongue.

“That’s it,” he mumbles around his slick digits, “I’m
definitely making sure we win our next game. Even if I have to do it all by
myself.”