queer-obsession

[queer-obsession]

relationship update: in an imaginationship

[queer-obsession]

[Exclusive GIFT07] Flower light

Basic information

type: light

swatch: 12

size: 20.4MB

game version：1.110

DLC needed: Base game compatible

You can find them easily by searching LANA/[EG07] in the game.

Pay attention

The light includes S/M/L size

Don't include it when you share your CC house~

download link: patreon

[queer-obsession]

worldbuilding is inventing an entire universe but forgetting to explain how people do taxes or go to the bathroom.

[queer-obsession]

VIDEO GAME LOVER .ᐟ

K.KOZUME

Beware: timestamps are irrelevant, fem!reader, yes I made lev the friend that went with him because if I mentioned kuroo this would turn into a kuroo smau

-> an overdue video game turns an occasional customer into a regular, but you have a feeling it’s not all for the media.

Gen/hq tags: @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @mayyhaps @adoresia @aldebrana

Also gonna tag @gumims because this is her man 🙂‍↕️

[queer-obsession]

YOU SHOULD DEF WRITE SOMETHING FOR KITA!!!!!😭😭

“Baby, can you help me in the kitchen?”

There’s a pout in your voice, and immediately, Shinsuke stands up, following your words swiftly to not keep you waiting. His eyes scan over the kitchen before landing on you, as you indeed, pout over a jar of jam, arms crossed over your chest. He nods softly, “how can I help you, my love?”

You huff and shove the jar at him, “I literally just want some for my toast, I can’t open it,” you whine. “Need my big, strong man to do it for me.”

He smiles softly, “I know you’re big and strong too; must be real snug if you can’t get it.”

“Flattery won’t work, I’m annoyed at the jar.”

He gently takes the jar into his hands, looking small in his calloused palms, and he grips the cover and the base with a tight hold and-

Nothing.

It doesn’t budge.

Shinsuke quirks a brow and readjusts his grip, trying to open the jar once more with a newfound sense of how challenging it is.

No dice.

“This is really on there, huh?” He pants, hitting the bottom of the jar to try and move the air to the top.

Nothing.

“Son of a gun,” he rasps, putting far more effort than he’d usually do in a task like this, grunting in effort as he tries, and fails, to open this jar for you. He sees you watching him, but he tries to pay you no mind until he cracks it open for you, not wanting to embarrass himself further.

He pulls back the jar to look at it closely, he’s never had such a hard time, he’s strong, he’s determined, he’s not used to such a display of failure.

Then…

“Did…. You get a fake jar for this?”

Your lips twitch. Shinsuke starts to smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, rocking on your feet.

“Really?” He hums. “Because I’ve never heard of ‘jelly jams jelly’ as a brand, you brat.”

You squeal and immediately run away, giggling down the hall in anticipation for him to chase you or, even worse, let you fester.

Shinsuke snickers softly to himself before throwing the prank-jar away, cracking his knuckles before making his way down the hall to make sure you never pull a joke like that again.

As if he even could.

[queer-obsession]

I would propose this very instant if you brought back the yakuza kita fic.

this has been floating around in my mind and will somehow find its way into an eventual yakuza!kita follow-up.

ink | yakuza!kita shinsuke x f!reader

note: mini follow-up to traditional values (but can prob be read on its own) warnings: yakuza au, arranged marriage, hint of yandere, mentions of masturbation and orgasm control, reader is a brat lol

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

"I want a reward."

Kita has only just closed the front door with a mild "tadaima" when you plant yourself firmly in front of the genkan. He hasn't even had time to slip off his shoes.

"Do ya deserve one?" he asks simply, seemingly unperturbed by being so suddenly confronted by you.

"I haven't gotten into any trouble. I've played nice with everyone. I've stayed here in the boring countryside with only my phone and the TV for entertainment. I've been good," you whine with a pout.

You've been in Hyogo for almost two weeks by this point -- at Kita's insistence of course. He said a visit was important to help you acclimate to what your life would look like after you were officially married. However, you have doubts about this "visit" considering you have yet to hear when you'll be returning to Tokyo.

"What kinda reward do ya think you've earned?" His tone and expression are both calm and your hopes begin to rise.

"A night out in Osaka." A quick flash of danger passes in his eyes and your hopes come crashing back down.

"No." With just a single word, you feel like you've had the back of your hand slapped away when trying to reach for something you shouldn't have.

"But Shin-kun, I've done everything you've asked and we're not even married yet! I've been good! It's not fair!" You can't help the way your arms fold across your chest or your pout deepens. You do manage to keep from childishly stomping your foot.

"If ya keep behavin' like this, ya won't be getting any reward." As usual, he doesn't need to raise his voice for you to know that you're toeing a line that it would be in your best interest not to cross. You relent with a huff.

"Fine. Then there's something else I want," you say and he gives you a flat look.

"I already told ya yer not coming until we're married."

You roll your eyes. You've heard that enough by this point in your engagement to know that it's an exercise in futility to even bother pleading asking.

"No. Something else."

He raises an eyebrow and it's all the permission you need to continue. Your posture straightens and your arms unfold to hang down at your sides.

"I want to see your tattoos." Although his expression doesn't change, there's a momentary hint of surprise in his eyes, clearly not having expected such a request.

You wonder if your own expression betrays your eagerness. While you've seen his tattooed forearms from afar when he's rolled up his shirtsleeves, it's only ever been a small taste of what's etched upon his skin and hidden beneath fabric.

Lately, when you've found yourself in bed with your fingers buried in your pussy, your walls clenching around them and your clit swollen the overwhelming and months-long need to come, all you can imagine is what he's chosen for the centerpiece tattoo that dominates his back.

Nothing you envision ever seems to fit the strict and traditional image of the Inarizaki's kumicho. A dragon seems too cliché. A tiger seems too egotistic. A samurai is too aggressive and an oni too vulgar.

So, when the corner of Kita's lip twitches briefly upward, your breath catches with excitement. Wordlessly, he steps closer to where you stand on the edge of the genkan. With the height advantage of the step, you're almost able to directly meet his gaze without looking up.

When he slips off his black jacket and hands it to you, you carefully fold it over your arms. You can tell that something in the gesture pleases him -- whether it's the submissiveness or domesticity, you're not sure. You're not inclined to offer any protest as he begins to unbutton his white dress shirt with nimble fingers.

With every inch of skin that's slowly revealed, you can feel yourself growing wetter, the fabric of your underwear beginning to cling uncomfortably to your slick folds. When the final button comes undone, you clench your thighs together, pitifully acknowledging it's the only taste of satisfaction that you'll see.

As the shirt slides down his arms, he passes it for you to take and you mindlessly hang it over the jacket already on your arm. Your eyes greedily drink in the expansive swaths of color that cover almost every inch of his skin.

Aside from an inch-wide strip of unmarred skin extending from his neck past the waist of his pants, his entire upper body is etched with traditional yakuza imagery of swirling black clouds and blossoming flowers. You don't miss the rice stalks interspersed throughout the designs.

You find yourself entranced by the design of the fox that stretches from over his left shoulder to cover his heart. It mirrors the traditional ukiyo-e style, only it remains uncolored and you instantly know it's meant to portray the divine white kitsune. Your gaze follows its form back up to his shoulder where it disappears from your sight.

When you finally lift your eyes to meet his, the hunger that you see in them is almost enough to make you moan aloud. Your thighs clench together again in a pathetic search for what little relief you can find.

"I want to see the back," you eventually tell him, your voice breathless.

"Do ya deserve a second reward?" His own voice sounds deeper to your ears and you wonder how many nights he's denied himself pleasure between your thighs in service of controlling yours.

The implied threat that he may put his shirt back on and deny you the chance to see the centerpiece of his tattooed body is almost as bad as his denial of your orgasms. Your desperation drives you to your knees and you fold your legs beneath you in a traditional seiza.

"Please, Shin-kun," you beg as you look up at him with wide, pleading eyes. "I've been good!"

A hint of affection briefly crosses his face and he leans down to give the top of your head a gentle kiss. His hand then grabs your jaw and he firmly guides you back to your feet.

"Yeah, ya have been good, ain't ya?" he hums thoughtfully and something almost nearing amusement tugs at his lips when you nod your head eagerly in his hand in response.

Deciding to placate you, he slowly drags a thumb across your plush bottom lip, letting the tip of it dip into your mouth and brush against your tongue before he drops his hand altogether.

And finally, finally, he turns around so that you can see what he's chosen to have permanently inked across the skin of his broad back.

When you see the artwork, you can't help the grin that grows on your face at your own foolishness. How stupid you are to have ever thought it could be anything else.

Painted in shades of black, green, yellow, blue, and red is the figure of a woman with two uncolored foxes at her feet standing in a lush field of rice that's ready to be harvested.

Of course traditional Kita Shinsuke, head of Kansai's most powerful yakuza group, who comes from a long line of rice farmers, and shuns the city to spend his evenings in the Hyogo countryside, has a tattoo of Inari Ōkami -- the kami of foxes and rice.

[queer-obsession]

MUST-HAVE MODS FOR FAMILY GAMEPLAY [PART TWO]

SMALL MODS Slower infant needs/General sims slow needs Teach to walk toddler Set family relationship Lumpinou M20 Family relationship Feed frog/ Feed fish by Illex  Teens/Children Can Mess With Curfew Toddlers get time-out mod High chair lock  Ask parents about dating by Ilkavelle Sleepover Traditions by ThatssoJordy Ask for Birthday Money by ThatssoJordy  Read Manga Analyze Book Cepzid lollipop || rock paper scissors

Interactions Social Sims Plumlace Growing pains Hobby mod Say Something mod by Lumpinou

BONUS MODS Kiarasims Holiday / Social interactions

PART 1

[queer-obsession]

If you’re having writers block…READ!!!! CONSUME MEDIA

I feel like I don’t hear that given enough as advice for writers block..just read? Watch tv? Movies? Find inspiration in media.

Writers block is a lack of inspiration, so go collect more.

[queer-obsession]

my fantasy world has 12 gods, five languages, and a detailed political system. my plot? two idiots arguing in a forest for three chapters. priorities.

[queer-obsession]

A mad Emperor, his only son dead, no more sons to speak of, and only a daughter left as legacy. It's a disaster for you truly. You know that a coup is more likely to happen than to not happen at this point. With your father further descending into madness: throwing knives at advisors, spitting in the face of foreign dignitaries, and raving about a new war for the Empire's half-dead soldiers to fight, it's truly no surprise that everyone (even the nobles) want to overthrow him. But, you know, if your father is overthrown then you are too. Perhaps, if you were a son, you wouldn't be. Maybe your father would be overthrown and you would be put on the throne in his place. But, you are not a son, and even if you were, you wouldn't take that chance. Because this is the opportunity for many noble families to take over the throne.

You have no plan to lose your right to the throne, to lose your station and have your family disgraced for future generations. You know you need power and loyalty beyond the few spies and pages you've already cultivated. Your best chance is marriage, however, it is also your worst chance. You could marry someone loyal or you could marry someone who also wishes to overthrow you, it's a roll of the dice. However, you can limit the unpredictability of it, at least slightly, with certain categories.

You cannot marry foreign nobility or royalty. Their loyalty will always lie with their Kingdom or Empire first and you can't have that. You can't marry any of the noble houses in your Empire either because they are all vying for this opportunity to take the throne. You can't marry a commoner because it will cause to much upheaval and they won't know how to help secure your throne. This leaves your best bet as an advisor or general who is loyal to your family. The pool is small and growing smaller every day, and even then there are still risks.

After deliberation, with only your own mind, you know who the best option is. Perhaps, a general might be better for gaining an army or a noble for power. But, you need someone without much of an agenda who doesn't have a strong bloodline to overshadow yours, yet they can help you rule and prevent any coups, making others bend to you. You can only think of one person, so you have your personal page summon him to your private gardens.

You're looking at the hydrangeas when he arrives, you don't hear him at first since his footsteps are soft, but you have attuned yourself to listen closely and you hear the moment he steps close to your hippeastrums. You tense up slightly, bracing for the discussion to come, but you don't turn around.

"Princess," His bored and quiet voice greets you. It would be hard to hear in a crowd with how little he pitched it, but in the sanctuary of your empty garden, it almost seems to echo. You turn to face him and his sharp, golden, eyes meet yours for all of a second before he breaks contact and inclines his head only slightly. It's a lazy incline of his head that certainly doesn't pass as a bow and instead would pass for disrespectful, but you know who this is and that he is your best chance.

You watch some hair escape his official knot and fall over his forehead. "Wiseman Kenma Kozume," You greet in return, keeping your voice calm and in a similar low tone. He looks up and you see his nose twitch at the title, but he says nothing else. "I'm sure you know why you're here, Wiseman." You would be a fool to think Kenma Kozume didn't know your plan already and that exact reason is why he's here.

Kenma glances at you lazily before his eyes move to look at the hippeastrums again. "I can only guess, Princess."

Your lips quirk slightly. "Your guess is always more of a prediction, Wiseman. They say your eyes see the future."

He scoffs slightly at that, inappropriate to do in conversation with the crown princess, but Kenma has never cared much for that besides doing what's necessary to avoid execution. "My eyes simply look where others are too stubborn to."

You hum in response and tilt your head to look at the hippeastrums along with him. "That is why you are here," You agree as you feel the weight of your royal furs become heavier on your shoulders. "I should like those eyes as close as possible."

Kenma's poor posture remains as he tilts his head back to gaze into the darkness of the sky. "What should you require of me if I accept your proposal?" As you suspect, Kenma's already figured it out. You're sure the second your page found him and said you summoned him, that he knew why, perhaps even before that.

"Serve the Empire and prevent a coup," You answer simply as you step slightly closer, standing beside him now. "See me onto the throne and secure my reign, our reign."

Kenma rolls his head to look at you before swiftly glancing up at the dark sky. The moon illuminating even brighter tonight. "The Emperor is still mad," He reminds you in a cool and quiet tone. "I can protect you from coups, but not forever, Princess. I also, most certainly, cannot protect you from the Emperor's madness. The longer he is on the throne the more useless I will become to you."

You digest his words, something you have thought yourself in the back of your mind a few times, but never spoke aloud. You know, that your father's madness is just as much, if not more, of an obstacle than the power hungry fiends coming after you. However, you have never dared yourself to think of such a thing for a more than a second, and certainly never dared to speak it aloud. "I cannot overthrow my own father."

Kenma licks his lips and closes his eyes for a moment as he feels a breeze through the air. Then, his eyes snap open and they look at you for the longest he's ever held your gaze. "There are many ways to dispose of a man without a direct coup and without suspicion," He tells you, slightly condescending this time. "However, if you wish to remain the dutiful daughter, I will not object. Though, I will also not marry you."

An ultimatum if you've ever heard one, though you've only heard one once before from your, now, dead brother. No one else would ever dare give royalty, give the heir, an ultimatum. Except, the Wiseman, of course.

You swallow your nerves down your throat and steel yourself. You cannot allow this to escape from you. It's your best chance, perhaps your one chance, and, as much as you wish it weren't, you know his analysis is true and sound. "What such ways exist that would serve us?" You ask, quietly and unsurely, almost afraid that your mad father will hear your whispers from across the palace.

Kenma seems to analyze you for a moment, assessing you in a way, before he cuts his gaze away with a simple shrug. "The silent way that has no taste or oder and can take its intended target carefully, in a way that seems of the natural world." You know what he means. Poison. A specific one he seems to have in mind.

You're silent for a heavy few moments before you speak. Your voice soft, quiet, but set. "Will it hurt?"

Kenma is quiet before answering. "No."

You inhale shakily before steeling yourself once more. "Then, let us marry, Wiseman." Your voice is slightly unsteady, but firm in its conviction and decision. This is your best chance and perhaps it is a mercy, to put your father out of his own misery of madness and push his legacy forward in his stead.

Kenma cuts his gaze to you again and lets his sharp eyes linger on your face, searching you, making sure your conviction is true. "Very well," He concludes as he seems to find enough to satisfy him. He looks back out at your garden. "It's best to marry before we engage the next step."

You agree. You can't...dispose of your father first and then scramble for a marriage and coronation all while fighting back the vultures of court and the hyenas of neighboring enemies. It's best for you and Kenma to marry first and solidify power, and allies, while collecting information on possible coups. Then, you can take care of the last step and assume the throne. However.... "My father will not agree to me marrying you. He will not agree to me marrying anyone, at the moment." The one caveat in the plan and a symptom of your father's madness.

Kenma does not seem concerned with this, though, and he simply shakes his head in a dismissive manner. "I shall take care of it," He tells you as if the matter is no trouble. Perhaps, it's not to him. He likely already has a plan. "I will get the Emperor to agree. He listens to me as his strategist." It's true, but no one is infallible. "I should hope the court doesn't call me the ridiculous name of Wiseman for no reason."

The Wiseman, a lowly born boy of a guard and an estate maid, who rose through the ranks to become the strategist of the Emperor at the early age of twenty. The Wiseman, who won the decades long war against the Kingdom of the Sun, with only one simple strategy and a day to come up with it. The Wiseman, who had a new position and title created simply for him. The Wiseman, who's never strayed from his post and never seemed interested in anything else. The Wiseman, with the eyes that see all.

It is you who inclines your head this time. "Then, I shall leave it to you, Wiseman. I, and the Empire, are in your care. Do not disappoint."

Kenma looks out at the garden for a few moments before he flicks his gaze up to the waxing moon that shines bright over the Empire. "I would never disobey my Princess."

[queer-obsession]

Black Coffee

Tenko Shimura/Tomura Shigaraki x gn Reader

Thanks for the request @s-0-ckz , this was so much fun to write!

“Black coffee, no room.” 

The man in front of you in line at your regular coffee shop grumbles his order before taking a seat near the window.

You try not to stare, it’s difficult though. 

There's something alluring about him. His presence feels oddly familiar, drawing you in. However, at the same time you've definitely never seen him or anyone quite like him in your life. For starters, he has distinctive scars, icy white hair, and vivid red eyes.

You peel your eyes away for long enough to stutter out your own order before taking a seat near him. He’s beautiful, in an otherworldly way, and you’re not sure if you’ll have the guts to ask for his number. Instead, you sit close-by in the hopes he’ll talk to you first. And you might stare a little.

He doesn’t, but his eyes flick up at you occasionally.

After forty minutes of debating in your head, you finally work up the courage to talk to him when he begins packing. He’s halfway through wrapping-up his laptop cord when he glances at you approaching him.

“Finally, I thought you’d never come over here.” The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smirk. A cute smirk. If you weren’t nervous already you certainly are now.

“Is there a reason I should have?” you ask tentatively.

“To say hi to me, I saw you staring.”

Oh. Fuck.

“Sorry, I-”

“It’s fine,” he laughs, “I almost came over earlier but figured I’d wait for you to talk to me.”

At that, a new surge of confidence overtakes you.

“Can I have your number?” you blurt out before your nerves can stop you.

“Yeah.”

You type it into your phone as he recites the numbers to you. Opening a ‘save contact’ page, you click the name field. Rather than save him as ‘cute coffee shop boy,’ you ask, “what’s your name?”

“Fucking seriously?” he groans, “nevermind.” 

Before you can say anything in return, he shoves past you and he’s out the door. You watch as his long hair swirls around him in the wind. 

Then he’s gone.

What just happened?

Over the next few days, you dwell on it more than you’d like to admit. Who is this mystery guy and why is he so angry with you? At first you were disappointed that someone so attractive is upset with you, but his irritability is off putting so you got over that fast. Now you’re just angry.

On your morning stops for coffee, he’s there every day. You’d never seen him here before but now he’s around constantly, glaring at you every time you enter. You’ve been taking your coffee to go lately just to avoid any awkwardness. 

This morning, you’ve had it. What right does he have to take one of your favorite places from you? You were here first. Also, it’s not like you did anything wrong. If he’s going to be grouchy, that’s on him.

“[y/n]” the barista calls out. You grab the ceramic mug before looking around for a spot.

This time, you’re the only two customers in here. Avoiding him and whatever temper he’s hiding today will be nearly impossible. Partially out of spite, you settle into a window seat directly facing him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him roll his eyes. He’s hot, even when he’s staring daggers in your direction and you hate that you’re even having that thought. You try hard not to look at him, pretending to have some sudden interest in the condensation dripping down the window.

After twenty minutes pass without issue, you figure he got over it. Not quite.

“Have you figured it out yet?” he taunts from two tables away. 

“Figured what out?”

“Seriously?” he looks at you incredulously, “you really don't remember me?”

Remember him from where? You’d remember someone with cherry red eyes and long milky hair.

You stare at him inquisitively. He almost reminds you of your best friend growing up, it can’t be him though. Tenko died in a villain attack with his family years ago. Plus, he had darker hair and eyes. You’d remember, a photo of the two of you as kids is your lockscreen background.

“I’m sorry, I don’t.”

He looks more sad than angry as he turns his back to you and leaves again.

That night, you’re still thinking about it. It’s driving you crazy and you’d rather just be done with it. You decide to text him. Not like there’s anything to lose, right?

[you] Where do I know you from? [you] Can you just give me a hint? [cute angry coffee shop boy] I can’t believe you just forgot me like that, after everything. wtf [y/n]

You never gave him your name. Maybe he overheard it from the barista.

The two of you exist in the same space, not talking for the next few mornings. You’ve given up on thinking of where you could possibly have met him and he’s given up pushing you. Yet, he’s still here when surely there’s somewhere else he could be. 

Today, the shop is packed. The sound of ceramic clinking and low conversations drown out the lofi played in the background. You’re glad to find the one open chair in the place until you see who it’s next to. 

“I won’t bite, just fucking sit,” says the man who’s name you still don’t know. He pulls the chair out for you, not bothering to look up. 

You glance at the full mug you’re holding; you should have gotten it to go. Reluctantly, you sit. Pulling out your phone to read an article and ignoring him as much as you can. A few minutes later, the barista calls out your pastry order. You drop your phone on the table and make your way to the counter.

On the short walk back, you see your phone buzz on the table ahead. A head of white hair turns to the distraction and freezes.

You sit, trying to carry on with your morning, but the man next to you is still staring. He doesn’t move, even after you sit down. He looks like he saw a ghost.

“Thought you didn’t care,” he mumbles quietly.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do I really look that different now?” he picks up your phone, holding the display next to his face. 

Outside of the hair and eye color, the resemblance is uncanny. How did you not notice?

“T-Tenko?” you whisper, “you-you’re alive?”

No wonder he was upset, the two of you were best friends as kids. You never could have imagined seeing him again. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him; practically jumping onto his lap. 

“I can’t believe it’s you,” you half sob into the hood of his sweatshirt. He even smells like you remember. 

The two of you spend the rest of the day catching up. In what feels like less than an hour, the place is empty and your favorite barista is flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed.’

“Time to finish your drinks,” he says, “didn’t think I’d see you two talking all day.” He disappears into the back to finish cleaning.

Tenko looks at you, nervous for the first time since you’ve met him again. “Uhm,” he starts, “want to grab dinner? I get it if you already have plans and need to go but it would be nice to talk more.”

“No,” you clarify, “I mean, I have no plans. I’d love to.”

“Perfect,” he smiles, “it’s a date then.”

masterlist

[queer-obsession]

[queer-obsession]

[queer-obsession]

kenma royalty au drabble incoming. as in like today or tomorrow. posting this to remind myself to post it from my drafts lmaoo

[queer-obsession]

Mirror Selfies V3 - PREGNANCY SOLO Edition (Public 1/29/24)

   What's Included

A total of 3 Selfie Overrides. (My sim is in her 3rd Trimester!)

3 In Angry Category

Download

[queer-obsession]

2025 #75

100% New Mesh / Texture By Seoulsoul

Preview - Ingame Cas (HQ)

HQ / All LODs

Download (Patreon)

You can check all my CCs on my website.

T.O.U / WebSite / Instagram

[queer-obsession]

aaa HI OMG!!!i love ur writing . i ate UP that kuroo x hard-to-get!reader.

i have a req; could youuu… write kuroken x reader nsfw? >< u can choose the gender, established relationship, reader is sooo neeedy, kuroo/kenma both please them together and continuously praise them for taking it all so well…

>_o whatever the answer may be to this,THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!!!!

p.1 kenma sharing you with kuroo

hi babes!! love this idea and it came at a good time too. this is a soft continuation of the needy!kenma fic

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / third!kuroo / established relationship / kuroo being so horny for you and kenma / crushing on kuroo / kuroo being rough / adult conversations / angsty smut / porn with plot / heavy petting / ass grabbing / getting walked in on / praise kink!reader / kenma being a great partner / 2.4k words / hopefully just a two-parter / pls reply to be added for next part!

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3.

"Ohh-Hooo-h shit-!"

Kuroo stuttered, eyes briefly getting their fill of that pretty body perched atop his best friend- who was- god damn- far more hung than he would've guessed.

Kenma raised his voice, half-sitting up to help cover you, with an incredulous, "Dude!"

That's right- he forgot that he was just standing there, mouth open under his palm. He was checking out the way you covered your tits with one arm, and attempting to cover your boyfriend with your free hand.

His surprise morphed into a guttural laugh at his honest mistake. He slammed the door closed behind him.

You could both hear a cackling that seemed like it was generated from the walls themselves.

"You okay?"

Kenma's hand cupped your face, cooling your warm skin down. It took you back to what had been a very intimate moment.

The sudden interruption, though nerve-wracking, didn't turn you entirely off like you thought it might. You leaned into his touch, a bit of worry on your brow, but didn't demand any extra coddling.

"I'm- I'm oka-y," You kissed his palm with a shaky sigh.

It didn't need to be a spoken thing; Kenma threw some sweatpants on, careful to keep an eye on you to ensure that was the truth, and slipped out to deal with Kuroo.

Kenma held his aggravation in a more grumpy, rather than wrathful, way. Where most guys would have flown off the rails, maybe keen to pick a fight with him, Kenma shut the door softly. He kept his tone even.

The taller of the two knew it was serious when he kept steady eye contact. That didn't necessarily mean he would suddenly stop finding the situation funny, but he respected -or, at least tolerated- the idea of privacy and 'territory.'

"Why are you here?" He mumbled, accusatory.

Kuroo raised his hands with a shrug, then let them flop to his sides in a defensive motion, "I was checking on you! It sounded like you were having a heart attack over the mic,"

"-I had no idea you were..."

His looked right through him, trailing over your lingering form in the door. He bit back a smirk.

It was such a prestigious opportunity at his fingertips. If he played his cards just right.

Kenma followed his eyeline to you, clad in his shirt that barely touched your thighs if you stood up straight. Good thing you were leaning on the frame, pulling a little on the hem, waiting for him to come back. His groin ached with the need to cut this short.

His voice lowered at your presence, "-Having so much fun."

The suggestive tone, worsened by the filthy expression that always made him look somewhat guilty, had you both warm at the topic.

"Well, thank you-," You were little raspy from what you had been doing, and moved forward to put a supportive arm around Kenma's waist, slowly pulling him back towards the bedroom, a little 'Let's Speed This Up.'

"For- um, checking on him."

Your partner couldn't help but smile, a soft and distracted look on his face as he turned to press a kiss to your cheek.

Physical touch, PDA, all wasn't a big deal to Kenma. It was how he loved, both with you and his friends. Kuroo had been an enthusiastic witness to some pretty raunchy stuff, over time.

Even a blind man could see that you two were checked out of this conversation already. You moved back into the bedroom, that shirt simply not enough fabric to cover your ass.

Before you could tell Kuroo 'Thank you,' one more time, he put a hand against the door.

He wedged half of his body in, like he was trying to squeeze into an already crowded elevator. You stayed standing just a little behind Kenma- not because you were threatened, but mostly because you didn't want to get in the way of their conversation. It felt like this should stay between two long-term friends. To make matters worse, the way you felt about Kuroo was confusing, and you weren't ready to dissect it yet.

"Ah-haha, you know," He laughed at himself, unable to find the right thing to say for the first time in a while, "I- I...I joke about it a lot-- but,"

He cleared his throat, mostly looking to see if Kenma was going to stop him, in the midst of what you all knew he was going to say.

"If you're looking to... 'spice things up,'" His nervousness was secondary to that cocky smirk across his jaw, "I know a guy who's available right now."

The 'You need a third?' joke was replayed so much that you and Kenma had grown desensitized to it. Now, it was catching up to you. You wished you had talked about it, sooner.

Satisfied with leaving Kenma to speak, you looked away, but realized all your toys were still out. The sight made you squirm, hoping Kuroo had not noticed (he did), and when you looked up- they were both staring at you.

"What?" Was so quiet that it was barely a word- so you swallowed and gave a panicked look to Kenma, whom you trusted, and figured would handle this in a conventional 'No, thank you' way-, "Why are you--?"

He wasn't so confident, especially not as sure as you'd have preferred, "I mean... It- doesn't sound too bad."

It felt like a test.

"Sweet," Kuroo laughed and stepped further inside- the only one able to be so lighthearted, with no difficult questions to consider.

"Wait-wait, wait, are you--," You were trying to decipher Kenma's passive demeanor here, "Are you serious? He's your friend."

Kenma nodded slowly, eyes closed, "I know."

He sighed, and made sure to be gentle with the way he worded this and the way he delivered it. It still felt like a knife to the stomach when he turned to you, took your hands, and said:

"But, I know you like him."

Heart racing, you looked both guilty and upset, and though you tried not to look at Kuroo, you couldn't help it. He was standing still, arms crossed, with one hand covering his mouth in concentration at the scene playing out before him.

"Hey," Kenma brought your attention back to him, "Hey, I'm not upset about it- look at me, baby."

You had to sit down. How could he know that, when you didn't- at least not yet? That wasn't what you had deemed it to be. In the midst of your conversation, Kuroo quietly slipped out of the room once more to give you both some emotional space. He did not mean for it to get that serious.

You were so faint that it was difficult to hear you, even standing right in front of you. He held your face in his hands and attempted to rub your stress away.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly--," You took a shaky breath in, and tried to find the right way to word it, "I think he's- attractive, I guess, but you know I love you. You're mine."

Kenma kissed your forehead a few times, relatively unbothered, "I know. And- I love you too. A lot."

You both smiled at one another and found comfort there.

"I'm just saying... It's okay to like him, too." He was the only one who could eye contact. The concept of it bothered you, but you liked the way you were being acknowledged, and validated.

"I promise."

His thumb brushed your cheek, and he caught another pretty, but still repentant, smile.

"It doesn't bother me," He asserted one more time for good measure, and let his lips fall onto yours.

It was warm, and kind, and soft- an 'I love you, no matter what,' in physical form.

His hands shifted, gentle and slow, up into your hair, his tongue swiped across your bottom lip before sucking on it, just to close out the kiss.

"We-," You lost your breath, so you took a moment to catch it, as he straightened back up, "Um- we don't have to, if you don't want to."

Five feet away, Kuroo was silently punching the air, absolutely geeking over the possibility that after all of that, there was still a chance he wouldn't get to fuck.

Kenma wiped his mouth of the trail of spit you hadn't caught in time, a little raise on his brow.

"I just wanna try this out."

He sounded so sure. Like he was only waiting to check that you were game, first. Where was the hesitation for him? Was this something he had already worked through, on his own time?

You watched him adjust, then rub a hand on the back of his neck.

He called to Kuroo.

His head peeked through the door, "Are you guys- uh, all good, ooor?"

Kenma opened the door wide for him. Their body language was just a little off. You couldn't tell exactly how, other than the energy between them as they looked each other over. It certainly wasn't aggression, like it had been before your conversation.

Kuroo stepped inside, rubbing his palms together, a big grin on his face.

"Good to see that you made the right choice."

Two big, rough hands had you by the middle so easily, so casually, that it startled you out of your wits. The instant reaction was to shut him down like you usually did. You pushed on his forearms with an awkward laugh.

He kept you plastered to his front after a small struggle, hand guiding your chin. Having to look up was new.

"Wooah- I know your little boyfriend just said you were into me-," His lids were low, and his grip was so strong that it made you weak in the legs, "So don't act all shy."

Kuroo was only single because he couldn't keep his attention limited to just one person. There had been countless times in the past year of dating Kenma that his girl trouble was the talk of the school; so-and-so was upset with what's-her-name because she was distracting Kuroo in class. Or, he was being too touchy with his girl-best-friend while trying to juggle two others in secret.

It was a good reminder that too much attention could spoil an otherwise great, fun-loving, guy.

In your attempt to look away towards Kenma- sweet, familiar Kenma, you finally felt his comforting presence behind you.

"Well," His hands trailed over your hips, eyes downcast at the way your ass was poorly hidden in his shirt. He hiked it up, a warm palm squeezing the fatty muscle there-- you couldn't help but slip your arms around Kuroo, hiding your warm, embarrassed face in his shirt.

"She's normally pretty shy."

You felt the bass in Kuroo's chuckle resonate through your chest, and remembered how surprised you were a year ago to hear him speak. He had a voice that always felt a little too deep.

A hand massaged through your already messy hair, grounding you.

His interested, "Oh, yeah?" made you clutch his muscular back.

Kuroo watched from over your head, fisting more of that shirt up to your mid back, as Kenma pressed his clothed hard-on between your supple flesh.

It felt exhilarating, both having somebody to hold onto and a dirty observer to all your bedroom activities. Kuroo's cock was already firm, trapped under his clothes, against your tummy. That didn't stop him from grinding into whatever he could.

The height difference would seriously take some adjustment. You and Kenma could fuck standing up-- you would need a step-stool for his bigger friend.

You gasped at his another hand gripping your ass, harder, sharper than you were used to. Kenma felt so good, even confined, grinding against your folds.

"Mn-!" Was muffled into Kuroo's t-shirt.

It should've been no surprise that he fisted a handful of your hair to make you look at him again.

You shut your eyes, resisting his hold, because you couldn't stand to look at him in this context. It was too new.

Instead of letting you go, he gripped you harder, eliciting a short, "A-ah!"

He took advantage of that, too, and tried to steal the kiss that he felt owed. But you turned your head at the last second and made it into a sloppy, unfinished cheek kiss. The remnants of which remained smeared across your warm cheek.

A defeated, audibly frustrated sigh-- he lost his grip on you, and in the process, you pushed him away.

Kenma pulled you close and out of Kuroo's arms. Onto his own chest, instead.

"The fuck?" Was a pitiful groan, and a look that you were embarrassed to receive, from Kuroo. He palmed himself freely, but stared at you like you broke some sacred pinky promise.

He ran a hand through his hair, stressed, and motioned to Kenma, "I thought you said she was into me. This- this isn't 'into' me. This is- is- like, fuckin' scared of me."

"She is into you-," His grip was soft, and nice, and though firm, it was still reassuring under your shirt.

Kenma laughed, thinking, as he kissed the side of your head. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at Kuroo, but you still found the strong desire to show off in front of him.

"Man, you're just--," He sighed, about to finish his thought.

"Just what?" Kuroo insisted, pissed off.

"You're too rough. Just... slow it... down."

Kuroo's hands rubbed down his face, brow working hard- he looked completely out of sorts, all frazzled and distressed.

An uneven tone, still worried as he tilted his head down, sideways, at you.

"O-kay, okay- yeah, I can..." He blew out a breath, "I can be... gentle."

As Kenma slowly peeled his shirt off of you- turning you around to face his best friend- revealing everything he ever wanted to see under that stupid uniform- his mind was made of stone.

He was not going to leave without touching you, tasting you. Kuroo lost a bit of feeling in his legs; he swallowed, dry, and nodded like a dumbass, over and over again.

"Yeah...Yea-h, I can slow it down for ya," He mumbled, mostly in an attempt to hype himself up. He pulled his shirt off by the back and closed the distance, with a different approach this time.

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