#Kenma kozume x reader

[milkteabies]

Streaming video games w/ Kenma

a/n: this is supposed to be like friends to lovers coded ok, stay w me on this, and there’s some mutual pining, and it’s steamer Kenma, alright, and also female reader

—————

“You’re really bad at this.” You snicker, sitting in the background off to the side of Kenma’s stream, messing around on your phone as Kenma debuts the game he just got.

“No backseat gaming.” He mumbles, eyes not leaving the screen as he continues to strategically mash the buttons of his controller, taking hit after hit from the boss.

You snicker again at the statement, heaving yourself up from your designated comfy seat in his streaming room, pocketing your phone in the loosely zipped up ‘Kodzuken’ jacket you worse. You stroll over to stand behind his chair, leaning against it to watch his screen as well, the flashes from his attacks reflecting across the matching blue light glasses you both wore.

Eyes glancing over to his second monitor, you see thousands of messages suddenly fly past as his chat greets you, excited to actually see you in frame

“Yes, hi chat. I’ve been here the whole time if you just got here. It’s been… 3 hours since I’ve last been fed.” You giggle as messages of admonishment sprinkle through the comments, causing Kenma to elbow your hip closest to his chair. “Do you see this, chat? This is how he treats me.”

“Quit lying to them, they’re gonna start sounding like children of divorce.” He huffs, shoulders finally relaxing when he dies to the boss again.

“Can’t believe you’d reveal the divorce like that.” You start, pointing to the screen. “Also can’t believe you’d claim to be a pro gamer when you’ve died 4 times now to the same boss.”

Kenma leans back in his chair to look up at you, exasperatedly. “You try if you think I’m so bad.” He says, holding the controller out to you.

Shaking your head, you take the still warmed plastic into your hand, sighing, “You know this isn’t gonna go well.”

Scooting back from his desk, he chuckles, “Should’ve thought about that before you started making comments. I’ll order some food while you fight for your life.”

“I’ll start crying on stream, right now.” You say, hunching over to see the screen, reloading the game at his last save just before the battle.

Kenma chuckles again, already scrolling on his phone, occasionally glancing at the monitors to make sure things are running smoothly. He scans across his video feed and he gets an eyeful of your chest, right on the screen.

Dropping his phone in his lap, he turns and quickly zips the hoodie up to your neck. “Ah! Quit it, you’re gonna mess me up!” You yelp, shouldering his hands off, eyes staying on the screen in the midst of battle, quite literally fighting for your life.

“Yeah, yeah, quit flashing my chat.” He feigns nonchalance, scrolling through the chat to delete any weird comments and ban any especially weird people with his mods.

“Ain’t no one looking at that.” You snicker, furiously mashing every button possible to dodge each attack.

“They better not be.” He mumbles, going back to ordering food, thoroughly assured you weren’t accidentally exposing yourself.

The next few minutes are quiet, only broken by the creaking of the controller from how tightly you grip it, the gentle tapping of Kenma on his phone, and occasional donation announcements. Kenma finally finished ordering the food, knowing your favorites by heart, and he takes to watching your dodge, duck, and run strategy.

“You know you’ve got to actually hit him to win, right?” He chuckles, looking away from the screen to glance at your worried face instead.

“He’s scary, okay! I’m trying to, you know… learn his attack pattern.” You defend weakly, pouting at the screen when your character takes a heavy hit, scooting over to sit on the arm rest of Kenma’s chair to truly lock in.

Kenma hums in agreement, still watching your side profile, eyes tracing the furrow in your brow and the down turn of your lips. He watches as you absentmindedly shake the controller as you attempt to attack, smiling when a piece of hair falls from behind your ear which you huff and blow at, annoyedly.

He reaches over and tucks it carefully back for you, practically melting at the little ‘thank you’ and smile you give him, handing trailing down to hover over the small of your back.

He snaps out of his daze when a donation sounds with the message, “See the way he looks at her, he’s down bad fr y’all.” Deadpanning at his camera, he fails to fight the blush that spreads over his face as you cackle.

The chat spams with similar messages, various “clipped it”-‘s flashing by as you laugh so hard, you don’t even notice that you stayed still long enough to die to the boss. Giggling, you double over, unzipping your jacket again and leaning against Kenma’s shoulder as his face continues to burn. He refocuses when you lean too far and slip off the arm rest and right into his lap.

It causes another round of laughter from you as you press a hand to Kenma’s chest, almost keeling over and slipping to the floor if he didn’t wrap his arms around your waist.

The chat shoots by a mile-a-minute, full of keyboard smashed, messages of disappointment about their own lives, and jaded comments interspersed with overwhelming excitement about “sailing ships.”

Kenma hides his face into your hair, hands squeezing your waist in embarrassment as you chide the viewers, “C’mon guys, you can’t call him out like that.” You giggle, yelping when Kenma pinches at your side. “Hey! I’m trying to help you!” You huff, turning to face him, but he just hides his face into your neck instead.

You giggle at the feeling of his hair tickling your neck and smooth it back with a free hand, your other wrapping around his neck as you shift to sit more comfortably. “Sorry chat, he’s outta commission.”

Before you can say much more, Kenma’s phone vibrates with the notification of the foods arrival, which he takes as the perfect reason to call it a night. “Alright chat, we made pretty good progress in the game, and our food’s here, so I’ll end the stream here for tonight.” He slips into creator mode, and you offer a giggly goodbye as he ends the stream.

As soon as the video shuts off, you’re pulling out your phone to find the clip of the donation comment. But Kenma knows you, and knows what you’re going to find, and quickly wrestles your phone out of your hand, trapping your wrists in one hand while he holds your phone in the other, far away from you.

“Kenma!” You whine, wriggling in your spot. “I wasn’t doing nothing! You’re so mean.” You glower at him, more joke than anything as your jacket slips off your shoulder from the movement.

Kenma roles his eyes, stuffing your phone into his pocket as he almost presses your foreheads together, mumbling, “I could be meaner.”

Suddenly flustered, you lean back, turning your head away as you stammer, “The cameras are off now, you know, you don’t need to be going that far.”

“You think it’s a joke?” He murmurs, pulling you closer by your still captures wrists, his other hand reaching to cup your cheek.

“It…Isn’t it?”

“Never was.” He whispers, leaning forward to press his lips to your exposed shoulder, making you squeal at the contact.

You can feel Kenma smile against your skin as you squirm more. “You need to be serious with me right now, or I’m going to freak out.”

“I’ve been serious since we met in high school.”

You pull your wrists away from his now relenting grasp and press a hand the bottom half of your face, squealing into your palm. Kenma laughs at the sound, but you press your other hand against his face to block the view of your embarrassment.

Kenma opens his mouth, probably to offer some cheeky comment, but before he can say anything, you cup his cheeks and pull him in to press your lips together. Your eyes fall shut as you lean into him, his reaction buffering slightly before he takes the action in stride, wrapping an arm around your waist and the other splaying his palm in the middle of your upper back to press you as close as possible.

You hardly feel like you’re breathing with how much you’re focused on the feeling of how chapped yet soft Kenma’s lips are.

After what feels like an eternity of being lost in each other, you two finally part, breathing deeply with equally apparent flushes on your cheeks, be it from lack of air or an abundance of excitement.

Your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly as his arm reaches over your hips to pull you closer and higher on his lap. Kenma’s eyes are lidded as he gazes at you adoringly, leaning in again to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Before things can escalate again, you press a hand over his mouth, giggling when he kisses your palm instead. “Before we start again, I really am hungry.” You whisper.

Kenma groans as he wills himself up, leaving both of your phones on his desk, setting you to stand but keeping an arm around your waist to trail closely behind while you go to gather the food. He puts on a movie in the living room as you set up the food, and quickly pulls you back into his lap when you attempt to sit on the couch.

“You’re not going to eat?” You ask as you gather a few items onto your plate, already taking a bite.

“In a minute.” Kenma murmurs, cheek pressed against your shoulder as he curls around you, thoroughly content.

You two spend the rest of the night squished together on the couch, hardly leaving each other’s grasp as you fall asleep to some random movie on auto play. Unknown to either of you, both your phones have been absolutely blowing up with mentions as the clip of ‘calling Kenma out’ started trending all over the internet.

—————

a/n: this is probably wildly ooc, but it’s too cute ok, I’m a sucker for yearning and being down bad

[fayelero]

ⓘ 03. MY STRANGE ADDICTION !

⤷ FIC ﹫ timeskip!kenma x fem!reader ﹫ angst/fluff ﹫ toxic au!

⚠︎ I really want to warn this one cuz it is really a heavy subject!!! I do not want hate so only read if you’re okay with the disclaimers: really toxic, obsession, corruption of reader, suggestive, fluff, insults, smoke, drugs, identity loss .ᐟ.ᐟ

Kenma wakes up to the sound of soft rain tapping against the massive windows of your penthouse. The sky outside is gray, overcast, the city below blurred by the misty drizzle. It feels like a dream—like he’s caught in that space between sleep and waking, where reality and illusion blend together.

And then he sees you.

You’re standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, wrapped in nothing but the silk robe he bought you last week. It hangs off your shoulders carelessly, draping over your body like it was made for you. Your hair is slightly messy, the kind of perfect disarray that makes you look like you just stepped out of a painting. A cigarette dangles between your fingers, the faint glow illuminating your nails, perfectly manicured, expensive.

You don’t even try, and still, you’re the most effortlessly beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Kenma doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. He just watches.

You do this sometimes—wake up before him, stand by the window, lost in your own thoughts. Maybe you like watching the city move beneath you, knowing none of it touches you. Maybe you just like knowing you have all of this, that money is nothing but numbers to you, that luxury is just a natural state of being.

Or maybe—maybe you just like making him feel like he’s in a fucking fever dream.

Your lips part slightly as you exhale, slow, smoke curling past your lips, disappearing into the air. Then, as if sensing his gaze, you glance over your shoulder, half-lidded eyes locking onto his.

“You’re staring,” you murmur, voice still thick with sleep.

Kenma exhales through his nose, dragging a hand through his already-messy blonde hair. “You look fake,” he mutters, voice hoarse.

Your lips curl at the edges, amused. “Good morning to you too, baby.”

You turn fully now, walking towards the bed with that slow, unbothered grace that makes his stomach twist. Like you know exactly the effect you have on him. Like you enjoy it. You flick the cigarette into a glass ashtray before crawling onto the bed, hands splaying over the silk sheets as you hover above him.

Kenma just looks at you.

God, he’s fucking obsessed with you.

It’s not normal. It never has been. From the moment you met, it was like something chemical snapped inside both of you—like magnets being forced together, something too strong, too immediate, too much.

Five years, and it hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s worse.

“You didn’t sleep,” you whisper, fingers brushing against his jaw.

Kenma doesn’t deny it. He never sleeps well without you, not unless he’s exhausted to the point of collapse. Even then, his body searches for yours in the sheets, muscle memory guiding him to where you should be.

You hum, leaning down until your lips barely ghost over his. “Bad habit,” you murmur against his skin.

“You’re my bad habit,” Kenma mutters back, and he hates how much he means it.

You are. You’re the worst kind of addiction, the kind that doesn’t destroy you outright but sinks into your bones, corrupting you slowly, beautifully, until you can’t tell where you end and where it begins.

Neither of you are cruel, not to each other. You don’t fight. Don’t scream. There’s no chaos, no violence—just an obsession that runs too deep, a love so consuming it wraps around your ribs like vines, tightening, squeezing.

Kenma knows it’s not healthy.

You never go anywhere without him. He never goes anywhere without you. Even when you’re apart, you’re not—you text, call, send photos, constant proof that the other still exists. The longest you’ve ever been away from each other was three days, and by the end of it, Kenma felt like his skin was too tight, like the world was too loud, like nothing made sense anymore.

You came back, and he remembers the way you just collapsed into his lap, burying yourself in his hoodie, inhaling him like you needed him to breathe again.

He remembers whispering never again into your hair, and he remembers the way you nodded, nails digging into his back like a silent promise.

Never again.

You’re pressing lazy kisses to his jaw now, soft and slow, like you have all the time in the world. You do. Time is irrelevant when you have everything.

“You love me,” you murmur, not a question, just a fact.

Kenma exhales, fingers tightening around your waist. “Too much.”

“Good.” Your lips ghost over his. “Me too.”

That’s the problem. You love each other, but it’s too much, too intense, an all-consuming fire that doesn’t burn out, just keeps raging. You don’t fight because you can’t—hurting each other isn’t an option. The thought of it makes Kenma feel physically sick.

But it’s not normal.

It’s not normal to panic when he wakes up and you aren’t there. It’s not normal to have to touch you constantly, just to make sure you’re real. It’s not normal to hate the idea of other people looking at you, talking to you, existing in the same space as you.

It’s not normal to be so deep in someone that you forget who you were before them.

Kenma doesn’t care.

Because even if it’s wrong, even if it’s unhealthy, even if it’s an addiction—

He’s never fucking quitting you.

It started slow.

Kenma likes to think he didn’t do it on purpose, that he didn’t set out to ruin you. But deep down, in the part of himself he doesn’t like to examine too closely, he knows that’s a lie.

Because the truth is—he wanted to ruin you from the second he met you. Don’t get him wrong, he never wanted to arm you or make you feel bad.

You were too fucking perfect.

When he first saw you, you were everything he wasn’t. Innocent in a way that wasn’t naïve, but untouched. Untainted. You weren’t fragile, weren’t weak, but you carried yourself with an effortless grace, a beauty so natural it made his stomach twist. You were kind without trying, soft in a way that wasn’t fake. You weren’t like the world he knew—cold, cynical, hollow.

You were warm.

And Kenma—Kenma, who had spent years keeping himself at a distance, who had built walls so high no one had ever been able to reach him—wanted to ruin you.

He wanted to pull you into his world. Wanted to see that warmth twist into something darker, something for him. He wanted you to be his.

And he got exactly what he wanted.

At first, it was little things.

The first time he handed you a cigarette, you wrinkled your nose at it, hesitant. “I don’t smoke,” you had said, voice soft but firm.

Kenma didn’t argue. Just shrugged, took a slow drag, let the smoke curl lazily from his lips.

But then you were kissing him, and his fingers were slipping into your hair, tilting your head back as his tongue slid against yours, smoky and slow.

You tasted it.

Didn’t pull away.

And he knew then—it’s only a matter of time.

The first time you actually smoked, you coughed, eyes watering, nose scrunching in a way that made something deep inside him ache. But then you tried again. And again. Until it became natural, until the scent of tobacco clung to your skin like perfume, until he could press his lips to yours and taste it on you like a promise.

Then came the drugs.

Not an addiction—never an addiction. You weren’t stupid.

But you liked the feeling. The way it blurred the edges of the world, made everything a little softer, a little less real. You liked the way it made your skin hum, the way it made you feel invincible.

You liked the way Kenma would watch you when you were high—like you were something unreal, something ethereal. Like he couldn’t believe you were his.

You liked being his.

You had always been confident. You had always known you were beautiful. But Kenma—Kenma made you something else.

Something dangerous.

Because there was a difference between being beautiful and being desired. And no one had ever desired you the way he did.

The first time he touched you, really touched you, it was slow. Worshipful. Like he wasn’t sure you were real. Like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers. But as the years passed, it became something else—something desperate, something obsessive, something hungry.

You were addictive.

Kenma was never the type to lose control. He was calculated, always two steps ahead. But with you—with you, he could never get enough.

You learned how to play with him, how to push his buttons. How to wear something too short, just to see his jaw tighten, his grip on his phone turn white-knuckled. How to let your touch linger just a little longer, just to watch the way his pupils would dilate.

You liked it.

Liked watching him fight to keep his composure. Liked knowing that you were the only one who could make him unravel.

It was a game.

A dangerous one.

Because if Kenma was possessive before, now he was something else entirely. You never questioned it. Never pushed against it. Because the truth was—you liked belonging to him.

Even when it was too much.

Even when the world started to feel smaller, reduced to just him.

Even when you realized you didn’t have any friends anymore. Didn’t go anywhere without him. Didn’t want to.

Because why would you?

When Kenma was your world.

When you were his.

Five years.

Five years, and now, when you look in the mirror, you barely recognize the girl you used to be.

The girl who didn’t smoke.

The girl who didn’t do drugs.

The girl who didn’t need him to breathe.

But that girl is gone. And what’s left is something else—something sharper, something darker, something that only exists in relation to him.

You should be afraid.

But you’re not.

Because if this is a mistake, if this is wrong, then you don’t want to be right.

Because this—this obsession, this madness, this love—

Is all you’ve ever wanted.

The morning is slow, stretching like golden syrup over the silk sheets. Kenma watches you move through the bedroom, and he can’t help but think about how different you are now.

How different you’ve become.

The girl he met five years ago would’ve wrapped herself in a blanket after crawling out of bed, would’ve worn an oversized hoodie, would’ve sat beside him with bare feet tucked beneath her, warmth radiating from her skin like the last light of a setting sun.

This version of you—his version of you—doesn’t do that.

You don’t bother with modesty anymore. The silk robe you wear barely clings to your body, loose enough to slip off your shoulder, short enough to reveal the curve of your thighs. It’s barely even tied. You don’t care.

And he fucking loves it.

Because you weren’t always like this.

You used to wear pretty dresses, elegant but never loud. Never anything too short, too tight, too much. You used to cross your legs carefully, sit with your hands in your lap, tuck your hair behind your ear when you were nervous.

Now? Now you stretch your arms above your head, making the robe slip further down your body, rolling your shoulders like you know he’s watching. You don’t even bother tying it properly. You don’t need to. You live in a place where money shields you from judgment, where you only leave when you want to, where Kenma is the only person whose opinion has ever mattered.

It’s not just the way you dress.

It’s the way you carry yourself now—completely unbothered, effortlessly sexy, indulgent in the way only people with everything can be.

You pad across the room, barefoot on the marble floor, fingers trailing over the cool surface of the vanity as you pass by. Your reflection stares back at you, and for a brief second, you don’t recognize yourself.

Not because you look bad. No—you look beautiful. Too beautiful.

Your lips are a little fuller, a little darker, the faint stain of yesterday’s lipstick still there. Your eyes are sharper, half-lidded, lazy, with a sleepy kind of sensuality. There’s no innocence left.

It should scare you.

But it doesn’t.

You glance at Kenma through the mirror, and he’s already watching you, amber eyes tracing the curve of your spine, the bare skin peeking through the loose silk of your robe.

You smirk. “You like staring at me, huh?”

Kenma doesn’t even blink. “You make it easy.”

Your smirk widens. You grab your cigarette from the ashtray and light it again, the scent of burning tobacco filling the air. You never used to smoke, but now it’s second nature. You love the way it makes you feel—like time slows down, like the world bends around you.

Like him.

Because that’s what Kenma does. He warps reality around himself, makes it impossible for you to think of anything else.

You take a slow drag, exhaling through parted lips. “You used to hate smokers.”

“I used to hate a lot of things.” Kenma’s voice is lazy, low, like he doesn’t even have the energy to pretend otherwise. “You make everything look good.”

You laugh, slow and syrupy. “Even addiction?”

“Especially addiction.” His gaze drags over you again. “It suits you.”

You should roll your eyes. You should say something sarcastic, should push against the way he owns you with just a look.

But you don’t.

Because he’s right.

It does suit you.

Everything he’s made you into—all the little corruptions, all the ways he’s reshaped you into something that belongs only to him—it fits.

You weren’t always like this.

You used to have boundaries.

Used to go out with friends, used to laugh without a cigarette between your fingers, used to kiss Kenma with soft lips instead of ones stained with nicotine and remnants of last night’s lipstick.

You used to be someone.

But that girl is gone for the best.

And the version of you that’s left—this spoiled, indulgent, obsessive thing—is so much more beautiful.

Kenma shifts on the bed, stretching, the sheets pooling around his waist. You take another drag, watching the way his muscles flex beneath smooth skin, the way his hair falls into his face, strands of blonde and brown mixing together in messy waves.

You were never meant for something normal.

Kenma knew that before you did.

So you take another slow inhale, lean against the vanity, and exhale with a smile. “So what now?”

Kenma watches the smoke curl between you, head tilting slightly. Then he smirks, slow and lazy, before reaching a hand out toward you.

“Come back to bed.”

[simplyvyn]

── .✦ GOOD GAME !

Your boyfriend just won an importang match. In a huge stadium, with lots of people watching. Not just in the stadium. This game was probably in hundreds of tvs outside or inside of a home. Kids, adults, teenagers watching. And your boyfriend just won the last match. At least your secret boyfriend.

After a bit of celebration with his teammates, thanking the people who are cheering for them and some awardings or a speech with their coach he immediately ran to you.

You were there watching him win, watching him score every point or defend every attack from their opponent. Your hands was laying on the railings. He was on the other side. On the court/field.

You raised your hand, offering him a high five. Even if their were still a hundred or even thousands of people. He still ran to you. His secret lover. "Congrats. That was a good game." He responded to your high five his hand on top of yours but then he pulled you, and then kissed you on the lips. Infront of all the people. You swore you heard alot of camera flash, screams and gasp's.

I thought you two were supposed to go soft launch?

⤷kageyama, hinata, YAMAGUCHI, kuroo, kenma, OIKAWA, iwaizumi, BOKUTO, AKAASHI, atsumu (HQ) isagi, bachira, rin, SAE, nagi, REO, CHIGIRI, karasu, otoya, shidou, aiku (BLLK) + ur favs !

Note: sorry guys i felt a lil silly😋

[na0koz]

hq boys fav positions…

fem reader. suna, sakusa, ushijima, atsumu, kenma, tsukishima, mattsun

suna’s fav is cowgirl. he’s lazy but he can still tease you like he always does - e.g. jerking his hips up into you when you slow down, guide your hips with his biiiig slender hands. also easy clit access he loves to finish at the same time as you.

for sakusa im feeling doggy or prone bone. i am just feeling that from him. he loves to squeeze the fat around your hips and thighs while he pulls you back and forth on his dick. he also feels he reaches the deepest this way.

ushijima. mating press or missionary. he likes to see all of you while you guys have sex and it also makes you look extra small under him compared to his giant build. he’s never said it out loud but the size difference between you guys turns him onnnn.

atsumu is also a doggy lover. he lives to be balls deep inside you, especially in a position he can go faster and harder in. i think he’d also like to do it standing up, for example in the shower. atsumu and shower sex go hand in hand for me.

kenma likes when youre on his lap. he’s working while you cockwarm him before he finally caves into your begging and bends you over the desk or just fucks up into you in his chair. good thing it’s wipe clean fabric.

tsukishima also likes cowgirl/reverse cowgirl/anything where you do all the work. he’s lazy with it and finds it very tiring to fuck you while you lay back on the bed, so you can get yourself and him off by riding him.

mattsun doesn’t really have a favourite position in particular but he really enjoys fucking you in places that aren’t your bed. e.g. over a counter, the couch, in the car if he’s feeling particularly freaky. he just likes getting off with you.

[purin-gambler]

planting kisses on kenma before his stream and hugging him close to your softer body, the tinted gloss from your lips now stuck onto his face all over, but he doesnt even notice. he turns on stream, already on his game first thing, saying hello to his viewers and not bothering to check himself on the camera, assuming he looks the same as always. his live commenters exploding instantly, pointing out all the tinted lip marks left on his face, his lighting betraying him and only reflecting the shining gloss even more, showcasing the imprint of your lips marked onto him. viewers teasing him, questioning him, cheering him on, wondering if hes pulling off some sort of prank, and yet he still doesnt notice for a good while, all too occupied on the level of his game. its not until he finally clears the floor, he turns to his chat thats flooded with messages regarding the sweet kisses you left on him. kenma then, finally takes a look at himself, eyes wide, flush taking over, as he instantly shuts off his camera and switches back to his waiting room screen in pure shock, seeping in his flusteredness behind his computer monitors.

he definitely learned his lesson now about making sure he checks himself before stream, especially if you were all over him beforehand.

[emmyrosee]

my first time commenting🫶

anyway could i please have some dad!kenma fluff? Tyyy🫶

“Daddy?”

There’s a tug on Kenma’s pant leg, gentle but just enough to get his attention. He turns his head down to look at his daughter, and he smiles lovingly at her, “hey beautiful. What’s up?”

“What doin?”

“I’m making mommy a hot chocolate.”

“Why?”

“Because she asked for it. And mommy gets whatever she wants.” He says as he breaks up the bits of chocolate bar.

“Why?”

Kenma shrugs, “because I love mommy. And I’ll do anything for her.”

“But why?”

His brow twitches. He turns down to look at Maesi who has no ill will in her eyes, just sheer curiosity. He sighs and bends down to pick her up, plopping her onto the countertop and passing her a small piece of chocolate, “you’ve got a lot of questions today, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh!” She chirps, beaming up at Kenma. He smiles down at her and kisses her head while she nibbles on the chocolate. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“You love me?”

Without a second to spare, Kenma nods, “more than anything.”

“More than mumma?”

Kenma chuckles, “I love you both so much, that if I had to pick, the world would explode into a million pieces.” He gently pokes her tummy, making her giggle and cover it with her tongue hands, protecting her from his playful touch.

“No world ‘esplode!” She says, reaching her arms up to be held by him. “Like the world.”

Kenma picks her up and puts her on his hip just as the water in the kettle starts to boil, signifying its contents being hot enough. “I like the world too- after all, you’re in it. It’s my favorite world of all.”

Maesi hums in thought. “Love uncle ‘tsu?”

At the mention of Kuroo, Kenma nods and starts to pour the hot water into the mug, “i do.” He looks at her and jostles her slightly, “you’ve got love on the brain today, hmm?”

“I love you, daddy!” She says eagerly.

“I love you too baby. But you know what mommy loves?”

“Us?”

He smirks. “Marshmallows.”

[utahimeow]

“kenma?”

“hmm?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.

“who was your first kiss?”

it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.

“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.

“ever?”

“ever.”

“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.

“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.

you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.

there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.

“what if i was your first kiss?”

kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.

“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.

“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.

the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.

eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”

your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.

“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.

“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”

“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”

kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.

“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”

oh.

now you get it.

kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.

instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.

you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.

“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”

you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”

two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.

“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.

“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.

“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.

“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”

and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.

you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.

also, you’re tipsy.

it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?

you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.

the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.

eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.

you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.

“yeah, we can.”

[mahyuume]

BF TEXTS W/ KENMA

— synopsis. as the title says, but with timeskip kenma!

pairing. timeskip!kenma kozume x reader | genre. fluff, crack, smau/socmed

mlist | omg hey guys first haikyuu post and it’s socmed/twt. 😆😆🙂 im never calling it X. anyways this is for my mamacita hahehehah

[revasserium]

love bites

kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,025 words; fluff, slightly suggestive, mentions of hickies, no "y/n", fem!reader, whiney!kageyama, dom!hinata, tsukki being... tsukki, post timeskip!characters

summary: these hickeys like the remnants of our love, footsteps on the sea-soaked sand, a line of demarcation -- here is where our story begins.

a/n: i just rly wanted to write about hq! babes and hickies...

kenma.

the first time it happens, it’s a mistake — a brief moment of vindictiveness manifest in the way he whines and nuzzles into your neck before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into your skin. when you gasp, your head tipping back, kenma pauses, pulling back, his mind already cataloging this very interesting new piece of information for later use, but his eyes have yet to catch up — his body has yet to catch up with the sight of you, cheeks pink, lips parted, eyes slightly glazed over as you stare ruefully up at him, a hand coming up to press over your mouth as you frown.

“w-what was that for?”

kenma hums, sitting back with a pout, “you were the one being unfair.”

you scowl, “how was i being unfair? you lost the game fair and square — the stakes were loser does the dishes.”

kenma sniffs, his nose crinkling at the thought, “but we have a dishwasher — it’s literally in the name —”

“but the nice wine glasses can’t be put through the dishwasher!”

you push yourself up onto your elbows even as kenma slumps back on the sofa, groaning loudly. still, he lets his head slump to one side to stare at the rapidly darkening patch of skin at the junction of your neck and shoulders. there’s something that feels dangerously like desire calcifying in the pit of his stomach and he weighs the pros and cons of leaning forward to give you another good bite.

really, dinner was great, dessert was better but — this.

suddenly, he understands what his teammates had always meant when they’d said they could keep on eating forever, even when their stomachs were full to bursting, even when they thought they’d be ill.

“stupid wine glasses…” he murmurs, leaning forward to prop his chin on your shoulder. you laugh, a soft, breathy thing as you reach out to tug a strand of hair from his low, messy bun.

“but the wine was good, no?”

kenma hums, letting his head loll back and forth, his eyes flickering down once more to the round ring of red now rising against your skin. he allows himself a tiny grin, leaning forward to press a kiss over the tender flesh. he makes note of the way you gasp, soft and expectant, the way your body seems to tense and then go laxed beneath his hands.

“yeah…” he whispers, smirking as he sinks delicate fingers into your hair, gently shifting your head to one side to allow him more access, “guess it was good…”

he presses another kiss to your neck, just slightly below the reddening hickey.

“g-guess? that was — a-an expensive bottle…”

“hmmm…” kenma trails his lips down over your shoulder, tugging lightly at your shirt, the wide collar falling away easily. when he finds yet another patch of unmarred skin, grazing his teeth over it, he feels the way you reach up to fist your fingers in his hair.

“’zume… don’t think you can get out of doing the dishes like this…”

kenma laughs, letting his breath puff out against your skin seconds before he opens his mouth and takes another soft bite. he doesn’t miss the way you whimper this time, doesn’t mistake the hitch in your breath for something like surprise when he knows better — and he knows you best of all.

“not trying to get out of doing it… just… we never specified when the loser has to do the dishes so…” he licks his lips, glancing up at you with a bright, devilish flicker behind his eyes, “i’m just taking my time with the meal. nothing wrong with that, right?”

tsukki.

it is a normal thing, for you to wake up in the morning and find remnants of the night before scattered across your skin like sand dollars littered upon a stretch of beloved beach. and tsukishima is never apologetic — ever.

if anything, he looks upon his work with pride, smirking as you tug at the collar of your shirt, tutting.

“tsukki… i told you not to bite so hard…”

“hmm… sorry, i must’ve forgotten,” he props a cheek on his hand, peering at you over his glasses, his tone the farthest thing from apologetic, “heat of the moment and all.”

you shoot him a reproachful look in the mirror and watch as his grin widens ever so slightly.

“the girls are the museum are gonna have a field day with this.”

tsukishima shrugs, slumping back into the bed with a loud, long sigh.

“dunno why girls have such a weird fixation on other people’s boyfriends. ‘s not like it’s any of their business.”

you tug listlessly at the collar of your button up shirt, resigned to the fact that you’ll never be able to hide the marks properly as you heave another sigh.

“it’s just how we communicate — it’s like… how guys sometimes just need to like… punch it out — or whatever.”

“or whatever?” tsukishima almost chortles, rolling over onto his stomach again. your schedules at the museum only overlap 2 days a week, and the rest of the days, either he’s off or you are. it’s a miracle the pair of you were able to meet in the first place, let alone hit it off like you did.

“yeah. i don’t know how guys communicate,” you say, even as tsukishima swings out of bed to come up behind you, looping his arms around your middle.

“we… don’t, really,” he admits, in a customary deadpan, propping his chin on the top of your head with obscene ease. you frown up at him, tilting your head back till it hits the middle of his chest.

“you’re gonna make me late again.”

“so?”

“so — unless you want me to get fired —”

“they’re not gonna fire you. you’re too good at… cataloging maps, or whatever it is you guys do in the cartography department.”

tsukishima spins you around his arms, pressing you lightly back against the mirror. he considers you for a moment, with eyes just sharp enough to pass for academic interest, but you see the darkness misting its depths, the pressure in his fingertips as he leans in to seal his lips over yours in a kiss that could only be called searing.

you break away gasping, only to feel his lips trail fire down your neck seconds before —

“t-tsukki — !”

he pulls back with a satisfied smirk; you can feel yet another bruise blooming along your skin.

“there. one more thing for you and your girlfriends to bond over, hm?”

kageyama.

it is a deliberate thing, the first time. but kageyama remembers the strange gravity, the tug just behind his navel, the persistent itch of curiosity as he leans forward to sink his teeth into your skin.

he likes the way you hiss, the way you go soft in his arms, the pair of you already a pile of tangled limbs on the massive sectional in the living room, the lights dimmed, half a bottle of red wine yet un-drunk on the coffee table.

“tobio… what —”

he hums, burying his face in your shoulder, fingers digging into your sides.

“… something i wanted to try…”

“hm?” you gently card your fingers through his hair, quirking your head to one side.

“it’s just —” he pulls back, a deep blush prickling his cheeks as he looks anywhere but at you, “something… i’ve wanted to try. for — a while,” he admits, looking shockingly small for a internationally renowned volleyball player, hunched over on the couch like this, his lips stained dark with wine.

you giggle, leaning up to tilt his chin back towards yours.

“sure. you can try whatever you want.”

you lay back, stretching out beneath him, pliant and willing, and kageyama goes still for a solid four seconds before he narrows his eyes, an un-namable hunger clawing at his insides as he pulls you beneath him and groans into your skin.

he likes the way the colors seep the surface of your skin, likes the way it’s so obvious against the bright of your collarbones. he spends all of the following day in an intoxicatingly good mood, to the point where his teammates are understandable suspicious. but he just tells them he slept well, that he had a good dinner last night, that wine was really, really delicious.

and that thanks for the recommendation.

hinata.

brazil has changed him, in more ways than you can count, but at the same time, in some ways, he is just, just the same.

“s-shou-you!”

“mmm —” he whines sucking a deep hickey into the junction of your neck, his pupils blown wide as he pulls back, lips split into a too-pleased grin, “what is it? did i hurt you?”

there’s the barest hint of a tease in his voice, and anyone else might’ve thought he’s completely serious, that he’s actually worried. and in a sense, he is — he’d never want to actually hurt you. but he also knows that — to a certain degree, you revel in this kind of pain.

you chew on your bottom lip, shaking your head.

“no… it’s — it’s okay.”

“yeah?” he sounds entirely too happy with himself as he reaches forward to thumb at the damp spot on your skin, “ah… that one’ll be pretty. just like you!”

he laughs, his joy so pure and infectious that it makes you blush. you look away.

“shou…?”

“hm? what is it, pretty girl?”

he bends back down to press a light kiss to your collarbone, peaking up at you with those would-be innocent eyes.

“don’t… don’t tease me.”

hinata laughs, that self-same, joyous sound.

“but i like teasing you!” he says, with no hint of malice, not a single sliver of shame.

you can only cover your eyes with your arm, turning your head away.

“aww, don’t do that —” he says, coaxing your hand away before pinning both of them above your head with a single, fluid move. your breath hitches.

“don’t hide from me…”

it’s too much to hope for that someone with eyes like his would miss such a thing. you watch as the dark, lightless centers of his eyes grow ever so slightly larger, threatening to overtake the honeyed ring of his actual iris.

“can’t… can’t help it…” you look away, feeling the waves of indomitable heat, wave after wave, washing through you, collecting at the base of your stomach to twist into something deeper, something harder.

“can’t help what, hm?” hinata laces your fingers with his; distinctly, you can feel his thighs flex on either side of your legs, locking you in place. the summers are hot in rio, but you can’t help but wonder if more than half the heat in the room might be coming from the pair of you alone.

all around him, the air wavers like a reflection in pond-water —

“shou… just —” you lick your lips.

“ah…” there’s a soft whine curling at the edge of his voice as he leans down, “you’re not playing fair at all…”

desire pulses like a heartbeat inside you.

“shouyou, please,” you beg, trying to wrest some semblance of control back from him but he’s having none of it. he pins your hands to either side of your head, his bed more than wide enough for the pair of you, with room to spare.

“mah… you gotta be a bit more specific than that,” he says, his voice almost casual as he noses into your pulse point right beneath your jaw. you hold your breath and a second later, the harsh sting of his teeth rakes through you, chasing pleasure down your spine.

“m-more —” you choke out the word against the heat of his lips and you feel rather than see him grin above you.

“yeah? i think i can do that for you.”

[fushiguruuzzzz]

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 🙂‍↕️

[sweetlyvibe]

“𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮” - 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗄𝗒𝗎𝗎 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 ╰► ❨ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ❩

- 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝖠𝗌𝖺𝗁𝗂 𝖠𝗓𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾 ⋆ 𝖣𝖺𝗂𝖼𝗁𝗂 𝖲𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖺 ⋆ 𝖪𝗂𝗍𝖺 𝖲𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗄𝖾 ⋆ 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂 𝖳𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗎 ⋆ 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝖸𝖺𝗄𝗎 ⋆ 𝖪𝖾𝗇𝗆𝖺 𝖪𝗈𝗓𝗎𝗆𝖾

Asahi realized he loved you one day after you visited him at practice. You were laughing and talking with his teammates, treating everyone with warmth and kindness, and it just hit him: he never wanted to be without you. The thought was so overwhelming that he spent the next few days flustered and avoiding eye contact, wondering how he’d ever tell you.

Finally, one evening when you’re both walking home together, you mention something funny that happened at school, and he just blurts out, “I… I think I love you.” His face is tomato red, and he’s barely holding eye contact, heart hammering in his chest. When you smile softly and say, “I love you too, Asahi,” he practically melts on the spot, his whole face lighting up in shy happiness.

Daichi knew he loved you during a team dinner. You’d insisted on helping organize everything, making sure everyone had enough to eat, even cracking jokes to ease the tension after a tough game. He watched you effortlessly handle the chaos, feeling something solid click into place—this was love.

After a few days of thinking about it, he finally decides to tell you. You’re both in the middle of a playful argument over who’s the better cook, and he suddenly stops, looking at you seriously. “I love you,” he says, like he’s sharing a fact he’s known forever. You pause, caught off guard, then smile and say, “Well, I love you too, obviously!” He laughs, relieved, and pulls you into a tight hug, wondering why he’d ever worried.

Kita realized he loved you in one of those simple, everyday moments—you were just helping him harvest some vegetables, chatting and laughing under the sun. He found himself staring, thinking, this is it, this is where I’m supposed to be.

Later that evening, he pulls you aside on the porch as you watch the stars. There’s a calm confidence in his voice as he says, “I love you.” It’s not flashy or dramatic, but it’s so Kita—honest, steady, and true. You feel warmth spread through your whole body as you reply, “I love you too.” He nods, looking satisfied, and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Tendou’s realization hit him like a lightning bolt one day while he was rambling on about his favorite anime. You were listening so intently, your eyes shining with interest, and he thought, Wait… no one’s ever actually cared this much about my weird stuff. That’s when he knew.

A few days later, you’re both at an arcade, laughing and trying to beat each other’s high scores. Out of nowhere, he says, “I love you.” You look up, a little surprised, and he gives you that signature mischievous smile, adding, “Yeah, you heard me.” You break into a huge grin, saying, “I love you too, you nerd.” He laughs, relieved and happy, and playfully ruffles your hair.

Yaku’s moment of realization came when you patched him up after a rough game. You were so gentle, fussing over his scraped knees, and he couldn’t stop staring at you, thinking, I could get used to this. The thought of you caring for him so sweetly felt too good to be true.

A few days later, he finally works up the nerve to tell you. You’re out together, talking about everything and nothing, when he stops mid-sentence and says, “I love you, you know?” It’s straightforward, with a hint of that proud Yaku confidence. You blink, processing, then smile, leaning in close to whisper, “I love you too.” He tries to play it cool but ends up beaming, completely thrilled.

Kenma realized he loved you during a quiet gaming session at his place. You were sitting beside him, just there in the background, but somehow, it felt right. He didn’t need anyone else—he just wanted you. The realization made him so nervous he avoided telling you for days, worried he might ruin things.

But one night, as you’re leaving, he stops you at the door and says, “I… love you.” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear it, your face lighting up with a smile. “I love you too, Kenma.” He looks away, trying to hide his blushing face, but you catch the soft smile creeping onto his lips, and he lets out a quiet sigh of relief, feeling lighter than ever.

[httpsleely]

HQ BOYS AS YOUR S/O—WHAT I IMAGINE THEIR INSTAGRAM WOULD BE LIKE

synopsis. hq! boys using instagram but they're down bad for you

ft. hinata shoyo, tsukishima kei, suna rintarou, kenma kozume

others. character! is aged up, hq timeskip! era

notes. idk i feel like this could be better but I'm too lazy to be bothered. this is just a silly little thought while i was drinking tea 😌

[ masterlist ]

HINATA SHOYO would post you a lot. He definitely has you on his profile picture; either it's your solo picture or a picture of you and him. His posts would only consist of four things: you, volleyball, his friend's, and himself (occasionally)—but there's more pictures of you in it than the three mentioned. His fans teases him and says that his account basically turned into a fan page of you. His bio would be in between something so sweet or so cheesy. He'll probably have a corny quote.

“Romance is icing, but the love is the cake—@your_username”

“my love: @your_username”

“My sunshine forever & always @your_username”

TSUKISHIMA KEI rarely posts you. It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just that. . . He likes having his privacy with you. but when he does post you, his fans go berserk. It's a rare opportunity for him to post you (I strongly believe he'd post you in special occasions; like anniversaries, special holidays (if you celebrate), or winning his games), so of course, everyone will have a field day about it. And when he posts you it's not just a simple picture, he'd have a full on note for you.

“Thank you @your_username for everything you do for me—for all the support you give me whether it may be coming to my games, cooking me good food, saying the exact words I need to hear, or even simply just your presence by my side. Thank you for being with me through everything. This 3rd year anniversary won't definitely be the last anniversary we'll celebrate—so here's to more love that I'll give you, pipsqueak. I love you always.”

SUNA RINTAROU post you way too much. He'd have at least five highlights about you; one for his favorite pictures of you, one for him and you, one for your unflattering pictures, one for very special occasions that he's with you, and one for videos he took of you. And he doesn't just post you on his stories, he also has tons of pictures of you on his main post. If hinata has three things he post, well, suna only has you on his instagram. People often mistake his account for your account because of how much pictures you have in it.

“Café hopping with @your_username”

“She said that I should post this picture of her @your_username”

“Idk who this person is, do you? @your_username?” (*but his post is literally you)

KENMA KOZUME posts (sometimes) whenever he feels like it. he just generally doesn't post a lot. But he posts about you on random occasions. mostly post dumps about you, like what he did in a month with you. Or simply just random pictures of you (some unflattering and some aesthetically pleasing). And he posts with no caption, just you and your @. his fans are basically dehydrated from pictures of the two of you, so they also have a field day whenever he post about you. I'm pretty sure it'd even go trending on twt (x) at least once or twice.

“🤍 @your_username”

“out & about w/ @your_username”

“ily @your_username”

© httpsleely | reposting, modificating, stealing, plagiarizing, and translating my works on any platform are strictly prohibited.

[cottonlemonade]

warning: smut, mdni

Aspiring CEO!Kenma loved being efficient and with his new girlfriend he now had a weighted blanket, a perfectly plush body pillow, as well as a fuck toy. To be fair, he had never known the need for the latter until he met you. At most, he jerked off twice a month when some fictional character wouldn't leave his mind, but now that he knew the heavenly feeling of sinking into you, grabbing your hips, thighs and ass and burying his face between your breasts, he very much saw the appeal. It was almost like a game, he found, to figure out where to press, flick or squeeze to get all those sounds from you, he wanted, to get you to tighten around him even more. And he was nothing if not determined to master this game, too.

[takes1]

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. part two here. final part.

"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.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu.

[jasi-jx]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ 𝗠𝗘𝗗𝗗𝗟𝗘 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 (ft. kenma kozume)

𝗸𝗲𝗻𝗺𝗮 𝗸𝗼𝘇𝘂𝗺𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 !

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ Kenma realized and comprehended and then accepted that he has a crush on you about three months after you met.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ At first, he just intentionally or unintentionally stared at you, it wasn’t a creepy stare more like just watching you do stuff.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ You never actually noticed him staring as he would turn his head away the second you faced his way.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ He usually kept his interactions with you at a minimum, never actually tried to come up and talk to you unless you did first.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ But he listened more to people when they we’re talking about you, whether it’s something you did, things you like or anything about you in general.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ In a month or two he had a pretty good amount of information about you without even you telling him. In order to not seem like a total stalker he didn’t mention anything you didn’t tell him.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ Kuroo picked up on Kenma’s unusual interest in you first, both catching him staring and actually lifting his head up to hear things about you. Kenma quickly brushed off his ideas.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ His analytical and observant personality came in handy with you. He would quickly pick up on your expressions to get an idea of what you are feeling in situations.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ After he started to realize that he might have a crush on you, he didn’t talk to you for a week but started going back to normal after that.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ Kuroo gave him advice (which Kenma did not ask for) on how to flirt and make you fall for him.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ Slowly he actually thought of breaking out of his personality and acting different to get closer with you.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ But once he saw you looking off to the side with a slight blush on your cheeks, while he was being his normal self, he felt his chest feel warm.

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐈 ／ ⋆ ۪ The moment where everyone else on the team realized their genius setter has a crush was when Kenma said something along the lines of “(name) would have done that.” out loud. Which was followed by Kuroo’s teasing.

[thatnewweeb]

Collab | Kozume Kenma

Summary | Fans of you and Kenma wanted a collab, but didn't realise you've been together for a year

Content | Fluff, I guess kinda hidden relationship

Word Count | 0.5k

A/N | I like the idea of this, I might rewrite this to be longer at some point

Fans of both you and Kenma have been begging for a collab between you two for a long time. People had started to realise that you followed each other on Twitter and would regularly reply to each other.

When someone asked about the possibility of a collab between the two of you, you confirmed that you'd like to, and that you've known Kenma since high school.

Many collabs later, you're sat in your gaming chair playing League of Legends on stream with Kodzuken.

"Kodzu, you're pretty cute, you know," you say into your microphone, smiling. He immediately starts stumbling over his words, blushing slightly.

You giggle, glancing at his stream on your third monitor, watching him struggle with his words, face dusted with pink. Switching your attention to your chat, you smile at the chat messages flying in.

"Come on, don't do that to me," he mutters, getting his focus back on the game.

Smiling, you shake your head slightly, muting yourself briefly to talk to your chat, laughing at how many people are enthusiastically agreeing or questioning you. You don't respond to any of the questions, just smiling at them.

A while later, you glance at your chat and a certain question jumps out at you. "Hey, Kodzu."

He hums in response to you, taking a sip of either water or some other drink in a G-Fuel cup.

"Are we ever gonna meet up in person?" you ask, repeating the question asked to you in your chat.

He chokes a little on his drink but manages not to spit it everywhere, placing the cup back down. He stumbles over his words for a moment before his response comes. "I'd like to."

You giggle, looking at the chat messages coming in calling you guys cute, saying they ship you guys, or expressing jealousy of either one of you.

"Yeah? I'd like that a lot, Kodzuken," you whisper in a jokingly flirty voice. The look on his face makes you laugh.

Not long later, you both say goodbye to your chats and end your streams. You and Kenma stay on the Discord call once the streams are finished.

"So," you smirk, leaning forward with your head resting on your hand "When are we meeting in person?" you ask teasingly.

He rolls his eyes at you. "You're such an asshole sometimes," he says before ending the call.

With a smile, you lean back in your gaming chair. Only a moment later, the door swings open, your boyfriend walking in.

"You know what calling me cute and stuff on stream does to me," he complains, pouting slightly.

Laughing, you hold your arms out to him. "I know, I know, but I just can't resist! You're way too cute!"

He shakes his head but walks over to let you hug him anyway, even though he doesn't hug you back. "If you keep acting like that, they're gonna figure out we've been dating for ages," he says, hiding his soft smile in your hair.