TW: Suggestive Themes, Virginity Loss, Inexperience, Un-protected Sex, Intense Emotional Tension, Desperation, Mild Profanity, etc!
⟡ Kenma is portrayed as emotionally vulnerable and needy.
`♡ Kozume Kenma x F! Reader *Y/N* `♡ COLLEGE AU `♡ Post—Time Skip!
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ Summary: After the game, Kenma can’t stop touching you, clinging close and all ready to claim you for more. Part 1
୨୧ Readers are warned and responsible for their own media consumption! ୨୧
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The door creaked open behind you, the party’s noise roaring back into your ears like a tidal wave.
Kenma’s hand was still in yours — warm, trembling, tight. Neither of you spoke, but he didn’t let go. He didn’t look at anyone. Just you.
You gave him a knowing look. “Wanna get out of here?”
His nod was small, but immediate.
Within seconds, you were weaving through the drunken crowd. People shouted your names, tried to pull you back, asked how the closet went — but Kenma didn’t stop moving. He didn’t answer. Not until you reached the hallway near the stairs and he paused, glancing around.
“I… I live here,” he said, quietly. “Upstairs. Room at the end.”
You blinked. “This is your party?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Kuroo’s idea. He wanted me to ‘be more social’… said I needed to ‘touch grass.’” His eyes flicked to yours. “Guess it worked.”
You smirked. “Guess it did.”
He led you up the steps, every inch of him buzzing with nervous energy. You could feel it in the way his grip tightened with each step. His room was dimly lit — soft yellow from a desk lamp, walls decorated with game posters, and a neatly made bed that he clearly didn’t expect to be used like this tonight.
The door clicked shut. Silence settled between you.
He exhaled slowly. “Y/N…”
“I’ve never—” He swallowed. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. A lot. About you. But I’ve never… done this. With anyone.”
Your heart flipped, a warmth blooming in your chest. “It’s okay.”
“I… I don’t wanna be bad at it. Or disappoint you. Or—”
You stepped forward, gently cupping his cheek. “Kenma.”
“You’re not disappointing me. You could never.”
His breath hitched as you leaned in — slow, deliberate, brushing your lips over his. He whimpered, soft and sweet, gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d vanish again. His hoodie was baggy and warm under your touch, but you could feel the heat of his body radiating underneath.
“I’ll go slow,” you whispered against his lips. “You’ll tell me if anything feels wrong… or too much.”
He nodded shakily, eyes half-lidded, cheeks red.
“I trust you,” he breathed. “I—I want you.”
You kissed him again — deeper this time. His fingers trembled against your sides as he pulled you flush against him. You could feel how sensitive he already was; just a few kisses and he was panting, hips twitching ever so slightly, completely overwhelmed in the best way.
“God, Y/N,” he groaned into your mouth, hands gripping at your shirt like he needed more. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this… How many times I imagined—” He broke off with a shudder as your hips brushed his.
“Then let me show you,” you whispered, lips grazing his jaw, down his neck.
You slowly guided him to sit on the edge of his bed, straddling him, letting him adjust to every inch of closeness. His wide eyes watched your every move like he was memorizing it. Worshipping it.
When your fingers slipped under his hoodie, he sucked in a breath.
“I-It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can take it off.”
You did — gently lifting it over his head, revealing the soft skin beneath, his slightly toned frame and flushed chest he was clearly self-conscious about.
“You’re so pretty, Kenma.”
He choked on air. “N-No, I—”
“You are.” You leaned down, kissing just below his collarbone. “And I’m gonna take my time showing you how much I mean that.”
You could feel the way his hips jolted beneath you, the heat and twitch between his legs giving away just how desperate he already was. Every touch, every graze of your fingers was like electricity.
“Y/N,” he gasped again, holding your waist with a death grip. “If you keep touching me like this I’m gonna— I won’t last—”
You smiled, brushing your forehead against his. “That’s okay, baby. We’ve got all night.”
And the moment you said it, he melted.
The mask cracked, shattered. The soft whimpers turned into soft moans. His hands explored clumsily but lovingly, and he followed your lead with wide-eyed wonder — every kiss, every breath, every inch of bare skin exposed beneath your guiding hands sending him into a dream he thought would stay locked away forever.
“I love you,” he whispered before he could stop himself, eyes glazed. “I didn’t mean to say that but— I do. I love you.”
You kissed him softly. “Good. Because I think I’ve been waiting for you too.”
And when you finally sank down over him — slowly, carefully, lovingly — the sounds that left his lips were everything. Choked, overwhelmed, breathless, vulnerable.
Golden morning light spilled through the thin curtains of Kenma’s bedroom, warm and lazy, casting soft shadows across the room. Outside, the world had already started moving — birds chirping faintly, someone slamming a car door down the street — but in here, everything was still.
Kenma was still asleep when you stirred — hair messy, cheek squished against the pillow, lips slightly parted. His arms were draped around your waist, face buried against your bare shoulder, as if instinctively shielding you from the world.
And he was warm. So warm.
You didn’t even try to move. Not yet.
Last night still lingered on your skin — the memory of his breathless gasps, the way he’d held onto you like you were the only real thing in his world, how he whispered “I love you” like he’d been waiting years to say it.
You reached up to brush a few strands of hair from his face, smiling softly when he nuzzled closer like a cat.
“Mmmnnh…” A groggy groan escaped him, muffled. “…Still here?”
You giggled. “Still here.”
His arms squeezed tighter. “Good.”
He didn’t open his eyes, but a slow, dreamy smile tugged at his lips — the kind of smile you rarely saw on him in public. The soft, love-drunk one that said he was still floating from last night.
“Feels fake,” he mumbled, voice raspy. “Like… I dreamt it. You. This.”
You kissed the crown of his head. “Definitely real, Kenma.”
“You kept pulling me closer every time I tried to slow down,” you teased.
He groaned again. “Don’t remind me.”
But his blush said he wanted to remember. He wanted to relive it again and again — every breathy moan, every kiss, the way you whispered his name like it meant something.
You shifted slightly to sit up, but—
“Don’t get up,” he muttered, tugging you back down. “Stay.”
“I was just gonna grab water.”
“I’ll get it later.” He buried his face in your chest this time. “You feel better than water.”
You blinked. “…That’s the thirstiest thing you’ve ever said.”
“I’m not embarrassed anymore,” he said, deadpan. “You already saw me cry and beg for more last night.”
You snorted, heart fluttering.
His fingers lazily traced shapes on your back, silent for a moment — thoughtful. Then:
You looked down at him. “For what?”
“For being patient. For not making fun of me. For making it feel like…” He paused, then whispered, “…everything I hoped it’d be.”
Your heart nearly broke from how soft he was.
You leaned down, cupping his face, and gave him a slow kiss — one that made him sigh into it, like he was melting again already.
“You’re everything I hoped for too, Kenma.”
He pulled the blanket higher, dragging you back under it, limbs tangled.
“…So can we stay like this forever?”
You smiled. “Forever’s a long time.”
He yawned. “Good. That’s how long I wanna hold you.”
Kenma had just started to doze off again.
You were curled into his chest, a warm, lazy mess tangled in bedsheets and each other’s limbs. His hand lazily stroked your hip beneath the blanket, lips brushing your forehead every now and then like a subconscious reflex.
“Yo, Kenma—the couch was a disaster last night. Someone left beer in the—”
The bedroom door slammed open.
You didn’t even have time to think. Kenma flinched so hard he nearly knocked you off the bed.
Kuroo stood in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, mouth wide open, eyes darting to every damning detail in the room:
• Your bare shoulders peeking out from under the blanket.
• Kenma’s completely flushed face and panic-glazed eyes.
• Your very obvious “I’ve-been-thoroughly-loved” glow.
Kenma made a strangled, inhuman noise and dove beneath the covers like a gremlin.
“GET OUT!” he shouted from under the blanket.
You clutched the covers to your chest, heat rising to your face. “Kuroo—!! Knock much!?”
Kuroo had backed halfway out the door, covering his eyes dramatically. “WHY AREN’T YOUR DOORS LOCKED?! I DIDN’T KNOW—KENMA HAS SEX NOW?!”
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE A VIRGIN!”
You practically choked trying to hold back laughter as Kenma let out a suffering groan and pressed his face into the pillow beside you. “I hate him. I’m never coming out of this blanket again.”
Meanwhile, Kuroo was pacing outside the door, mumbling dramatically like a traumatized sitcom dad. “I raised him better than this. Sweet gamer boy is gone. He’s been tainted—”
You threw a pillow at the door. “Close it or I swear I’ll make sure you see everything next time.”
Kuroo yelped and shut it so fast it nearly bounced back open.
Then: “I’M HAPPY FOR YOU GUYS THOUGH! BUT SERIOUSLY, LOCK YOUR DOORS!”
Kenma peeked out from under the blanket with the most murderous, red-faced pout you’d ever seen.
“I’m changing the locks.”
You giggled, climbing over to kiss his cheek. “Hey, on the bright side…”
You smirked. “Now everyone definitely knows we’re together.”
Kenma groaned. “I liked it better when they guessed.”
Kenma had locked himself in his room for the rest of the morning.
You were the only one allowed in.
Wrapped in a hoodie and glaring death at the world from under his hair, he refused to even look Kuroo in the eye, let alone acknowledge what had happened.
Unfortunately for him, Kuroo was absolutely living for it.
“Kenma, buddy,” Kuroo called from outside the door with the smuggest voice imaginable. “Hey. You okay? Blink once if you lost your virginity.”
“I also brought extra-strength painkillers. Heard your hips gave out—”
You were laughing into your pillow as Kenma seethed. His entire face was crimson. He was curled around you like a cat protecting its territory — forehead in your shoulder, one arm slung around your waist, the other firmly clutching your thigh like Kuroo might steal you next.
He mumbled against your skin: “If he brings this up again in front of anyone, I’m blocking him.”
You kissed his temple. “He’s just proud of you.”
You giggled. “He’s your best friend.”
Kuroo somehow convinced you both to come out for lunch (“I’ll pay, come on, I’m not gonna let my two favorite lovebirds starve in post-coital shame”).
The walk there was mostly fine — Kenma kept his hood up, stayed half a step behind you, and only shot Kuroo a death glare about twenty times. But the moment you all sat down in the booth, it started.
Kuroo smirked across the table. “So. How was last night?”
Kenma visibly twitched. “Don’t.”
“I mean—just curious.” Kuroo leaned in. “Was it like, emotional and sweet? Or did you just absolutely—”
Kenma slammed his hands on the table. “I swear to God.”
You were wheezing, covering your face with the menu as Kuroo grinned like the menace he was.
“I’m just saying,” he added, holding his drink, “Kenma’s been walking around like he just unlocked a secret side quest called ‘Touch Starved Nerd Becomes Menace in Bed.’”
Kenma hissed. “I will spill that drink on purpose.”
Kenma wouldn’t stop holding your hand.
From the moment you sat down, he slid his fingers into yours under the table — not in a casual way either. He was clutching your hand like it grounded him. His thumb kept sweeping over your knuckles, his palm was warm and a little sweaty, and if you so much as shifted your hand away to reach your water, he visibly sulked.
Kuroo noticed immediately. “Awww.”
“No, no—it’s cute!” Kuroo leaned over the table. “My sweet little gamer boy’s all in love now. Look at that grip. He’s clinging to her like she’s his last wifi signal.”
Kenma turned to you, flustered, clearly debating whether to be embarrassed or defiant.
“…It’s okay, right?” he mumbled, voice quiet and raw.
You gently squeezed back. “Of course.”
Kuroo wiped a fake tear. “They grow up so fast…”
Kenma flipped him off without letting go of your hand.
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