haikyuu snippets

change ;; kozume k.

inspiration - good god i love it when kenma

warning: supporting kenma from under the desk except there is no desk, begging, slight overstimulation, mentioned unmuted microphone, sub kenma if you squint hard enough.

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Kenma Kozume isn't a very social person.

A very introverted soul, he is. He only talks when he needs to. He knows many acquaintances, yes, but little to no one is someone he would classify as a friend. That's how it always has been.

Even now, his entire body tense in his chair, he still refused to say a word. Sure, he'd accidentally make a noise or three, but nothing completely coherent.

Kenma has always been a hermit, glued to his games as if it were his lifeline-- which, in some ways, they were. They are his escape, a place to call home, his greatest source of happiness. A dungeon to clear or a quest to fulfill may have been the one thing he looked forward to in his entire day.

The beast in his path was more difficult than he thought. He severely underestimated this level. His focus wasn't the only thing he left on the previous stages, his inventory stocked only with weak weapons and tattered armor. He had no idea how he beat this level, but it was most likely a miracle from a deity.

The second the customization menu enveloped the screen, he took a moment to catch not only his breath, but also his mind. He didn't let himself go, no, it was too soon, he still has twelve stages left. Will he last until then? Not with the way you're acting.

Kenma Kozume speaks only when he needs to, and now feels like a necessary time.

"Slow down," he asked-- begged, even.

Your response was the suction of your mouth, squeezing tighter around his cock, forcing a cringe and a whimper from the man; a refusal.

Two words from the anti-social Kenma, all for naught.

Skipping through the menu screen-- not that he was focused enough to buff his character up a little more --he progressed onward. He already knew this level like the back of his hand, he had played it so many times whenever he had free time. Even though he knew each and every secret to this stage, the locations of better weapons, and the final boss itself, the overwhelming pleasure grew to be too much for his mind to fixate on anything across the screen.

Kenma Kozume doesn't like to sweat. For a former athlete, one would expect him to be used to it, but he still loathed the way it ran down his body, a constant reminder of his exhaustion. The feeling of it sliding down his skin was enough to shift his entire mood.

As much as he hated it, he didn't even notice the large beads of sweat building up on his skin, caused both by the stress of the game and his rising body temperature.

Kenma Kozume also hates to multi-task. As good at it as he may be, he prefers to have one task at hand if he could help it. Dividing his brain for multiple functions at once made him frustrated.

This may be one of the few times where he isn't as skilled with focusing on two things at once.

The feeling building up from his core only seemed to intensify. It fogged his brain, formed butterflies in his tense abdomen, forced his toes to curl against the carpet beneath his feet. This overdriven sense of touch dug its mighty claws in his mind and took control, and so the game he thought he knew so well became something unfamiliar to him, as if it was his first time playing it once again. The controller was idle in his grasp.

Kenma whimpered, pushing himself through the game. Now there were only eleven more stages.

Kenma Kozume doesn't have a lot of endurance. In his high school years of playing volleyball, he didn't have the stamina that some of his teammates had. His high school was even known for having a defensive team to shelter their setter, him.

However, he lasted longer than he thought he would, especially with how you've been today. All this time, he was holding himself back, doing all that he could to stay with the game. He knew he wouldn't make it to the end of the game, but this surely was farther than he expected himself to go.

Another menu screen appeared to welcome and prepare him for the new level. Taking advantage of the few moments when he could pause this game, he finally abandoned the game.

His last drop of true focus was used to make sure he didn't drop the plastic controller on your head, rather setting it on the arm of his chair-- harder than he wanted to; if he used any more strength or speed to dismiss the object, it would have fallen off the armrest. Both of his now free hands buried themselves in your hair, blunt nails just barely digging into your scalp.

Kenma Kozume isn't one for embarrassing himself in front of others. He just wasn't one for attention. Gathering the eyes and ears of many wasn't something that he wasa big fan of. He was always careful of how he acts around strangers or even some friends, especially since he doubled as a YouTuber and wouldn't want to ruin his reputation.

Despite this, he didn't give a shit about the headset on his head and the (most likely, unmuted) mic in front of his face. "I'm so close, so fucking close, pudding, please," he panted out, hesitating to pull your skull closer to his body. He was definitely right, because he didn't last longer than a minute after he said those words. Polite enough for a final warning, Kenma cried out in a higher pitch than usual and moaned out, "cumming!," as he reached the peak of ascension in the warm chasm of your mouth.

The both of you didn't let up just yet; you with the suctions of your maw and quick flicks of your tongue, him with his untamed squirming. You didn't stop until he was begging you to, the euphoria morphing him into a jerking and twitching puppet under its ethereal grasp.

As he grew, now an adult and a CEO of his very own company, he has refined and matured the core of his being. He would most definitely say that he has changed over the past few years, and he wouldn't dare hesitate to admit that the source of most of his change was you, even if you were lapping up the last of his cum from between his legs.