Feel Like I'm Hot Stuff, You're My Rockstar

I can‘t argue with a blue eyed boy, whatever u say beautiful

Oh yes, here come the hundreds of Miguel O'hara fanfics with badly made spanish interjections.

So a bit of advice: just use full phrases. Instead of throwing one spanish word inside an english phrase, use full spanish phrases. Is more natural and sounds better.

Edit: I see y'all in the notes who want to write better, here is some advice for you to do it.

GOOD hope he has a happy ending🙏

birds of a feather : ground rules

warning/s : suggestive content and smut, minors DNI

OCTOBER 18, 10:32 PM

location— atsumu miya’s car

following the end of your conversation with tobio, you throw your cellphone to the floor, agitated at how it turned out. you don’t know what it is that you were expecting, but definitely not the blatant rejection you faced. if only he would’ve rendered you a chance to explain yourself, maybe you could’ve roped him into hearing an acceptable justification. not that you didn’t try to explain yourself, it seems, you just failed to do a good job at it, or rather, there was no appropriate justification on your end.

the thud resulting from your cellphone hitting the ground makes atsumu turn his neck in the direction of the sound. he notices the cellphone laying on the ground, then turns to look at you and notices the frown stitched into your face.

atsumu puts two and two together and concludes that the conversation between you and tobio didn’t go the way you expected it to. he doesn’t want to implore, but ends up inquiring anyways, “what’s wrong, yn?”

“damn him, that tobio.” you grunt, continuing to complain, “i hate him so much.”

atsumu flicks your forehead, rolling his eyes, “i’m sure you don’t.”

“he’s your best friend, after all.” he stresses on the term as he drags you closer to himself, lifting you to put you on his lap.

he puts his arms around your waist, postulating, “he’ll come around eventually.”

atsumu nuzzles his head between your boobs, and you reflexively begin running your fingers through his hair, grumbling, “he could’ve at least heard me out.”

“some best friend he is.” you hiss, rolling your eyes.

atsumu slaps your back, taunting you, “we could say the same about you.”

“you ditched him for a random guy, after all.” he mentions, raising his head to smirk at you.

you purse your lips, mumbling, “you’re not just some guy, tsumu.” you lift his head to place a quick kiss on his lips. just as you’re about to withdraw, he pulls you in for a second kiss. his brisk hands unzip your dress and lugs away from the kiss, smugly smiling at you as he reaches to remove your hair-clip, allowing your hair to flow down your back.

he runs his hand through your hair, putting his forehead against yours, whispering against your lips, “i really hope i’m not.”

you kiss him on the cheek and descend to leave a trail of your kisses from his cheek right down to his neck. you open up the buttons of his shirt, giving him a hickey underneath his clavicle. you grin at him once you’re done, locking lips with him once again. he pulls away, fingers still meddling with your hair, chuckling, “marking your territory once again, are you?”

he points to the corner of his lip, brandishing the hickey you gave him earlier, before pulling you closer to him. he shifts your hair to the other side, pressing his lips against your neck, leaving a mark, making you groan. he claims, his warm breath condensing against the cold skin of your neck, “you’re mine, kitten.”

“only mine.” he asserts, kissing the blade of your shoulder, leaving another mark against your skin.

you nod, accepting his claim as you pull your body away from his. you rub your thumb against the skin around the corner of his lips, tainted by you, smugly smiling at him as you lock in his gaze, “i thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“i’m just a man.” he shrugs, kissing you on the cheek, then on the neck, followed by your shoulder, confessing, “i’m no fool to deny the touch of a woman like you.”

he drags your sleeves down, pulling the dress off your torso to reveal your brasier. he unlocks the hooks in a moment using a single hand, and rips the garment away from your skin, throwing it on the front seat. it reveals your breast. he slides your dress further down to reveal your abdomen.

he begins by kissing the undersurface of your boobs, then goes on to kiss your nipples, one after the other. the feeling of his soft kisses against your sore spot fires your nerve endings, turning you on, inciting you whimper. he then slides his hand underneath your dress, putting it against the inside of your thigh.

“in the car?” you shoot him a look, wide eyed, “are you insane?”

“shh.” he puts a finger to his lips, demanding no reluctance from your end before he moves his hand upwards along the skin of your thighs, making you ticklish as he approaches the strap of your underwear. he pulls at it, making you flinch when he releases his fingers the elastic recoils against your skin.

he engages his fingers with the strap of your underwear once again, pulling it down to clear his access. he advances his fingers towards your cunt, targeting your clitoris first and foremost. you moan loudly when his fingers run against your sore spot. he repeats the motion of his fingers yet again, demanding you to moan for a second time in row.

atsumu laughs, satisfied as his manoeuvre proves to be fruitful. he inserts his fingers inside your pussy, skilfully moving them around, stimulating you in an attempt to get you to cum. the motion of his fingers inside your cunt irks you to whimper over and over again. you finally cum when he brushes his fingers past your clitoris once again.

he doesn’t stop there. he intends on stimulating you further more. his fingers find themselves hovering around the same spot knowing far to well where your body prefers to be touched by him. he teases you by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit. you whimper, “t-tsumu, more.”

you mumble, huffing as you feel yourself cum and the cum dripping down your legs onto his pants, “p-please, more.”

atsumu laughs, razzing you as he wipes the cum off his pants and paints it on your lower lip, “now lick, kitten.” you don’t follow his order, too stupefied as your hormones are surging and all you want is more of him and the pleasure he has to offer you.

atsumu licks the cum off your lip himself, smirking as he gulps it down, praising you, “my kitten tastes so good.”

he confesses, entwining his fingers with your own, kissing your knuckle, “so glad you’re all mine to take.”

“aren’t you, now?” he drops your hand, questioning as he cups your chin, withholding your gaze, expecting you to answer.

you hum, still dazed, agreeing, “yes, all yours.”

“i’m pleasuring you so well, kitten.” he sneers at you, putting his fingers inside your needy cunt once again, urging you to cum as he glides along your walls and skilfully rolls his fingers inside you.

you cum with his fingers still inside your pussy. your fluid drips down his digits. he pulls his sticky fingers out of your cunt, and then puts them in once again, dictating, “you know you need to pleasure me too.”

“i know i—.” you nod, agreeing with him, but he cuts your words short, taking his fingers out of your pussy and cupping your chin with the same hand that was inside you earlier.

he licks the liquid off his fingers with his hand still on your face, giving you a taste of yourself when he kisses you. the sweet taste of your own mess dissipates on the surface of your tongue. he withdraws, putting his fingers on your clitoris, squeezing the spot, demanding, “kitten, i’m hard now.”

“and you better pleasure me.” he orders, smirking as you whine loudly, cumming once again, dirtying his fingers for a second time.

he withdraws his fingers and forces them in your mouth, letting you have another taste of yourself. you squelch, but you lick the cum off his digits. he stares you in the eyes with a smug look painting his face, while you’re in a complete haze, staring at him blankly as he removes his fingers from your mouth. he kisses you on the lips, appreciating, “you’re a good kitten.”

“now be better and make me cum.” he instructs, squeezing and nibbling at your nipples, coaxing you to whimper in pain and in pleasure.

you nod, accepting his demand of being pleasured by you. he throws you off him and points to his pants gesturing you to unbuckle and take them off. you struggle all over the place trying to unlock his belt and loosen his pants. you final achieve your goal, revealing his large, hard and veiny penis that stares you down, waiting to be put either inside your mouth, or your cunt, whatever seems easier to get into.

atsumu pushes you down, putting pressure on your shoulder as he lays you flat on the car seat. he climbs on top you, ready to insert his dick inside your cunt. he spreads your legs apart, entwines his fingers with your own, and pins your hands on either side of your head, against the car seat. he begins to put his penis inside your vagina, gently sliding it in. you feel his large self scaling your walls as his dick enters your cunt, and you feel it slide outside of you too.

although he’s been inside of you before, but because he’s so big, the feeling of his dick moving inside and outside of you hurts you and pleasures you all the same. he puts his wood inside of your cunt once again, hoping to stimulate your g spot and incite an orgasm on your end.

he continues the motion of his dick, sliding it inside your cunt, then pulling it out of you, and at a certain point, you’re overstimulated, moaning and groaning continuously. while he’s still inside of you, you experience a sexual high, an orgasm incoming, and you cum, tainting his dick. aroused by your neediness, atsumu cums as well, carelessly inside of you.

he takes his dick out of you, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. he gives you a break when he notices his erection is gone and his dick has softened. meanwhile you’re breathless and all over the place, but also overstimulated enough to cum once again. with the liquid dripping down your thighs, he makes an effort to lick it off and clean up for you.

once he’s done, he puts his weight on top of you, resting his head against your breasts squishing them under his weight. he places his hand on your cheek, patting it, praising you, “you were a good girl tonight.”

“i’m hungry.” you mumble as your stomach groans, making atsumu burst out in laughter.

he cracks a joke, “looks like i wasn’t enough for you.”

“clearly not.” you chuckle, joining in his humour, smiling tiredly at his face.

you surmise, gauging the state of the two of you, “we also need a shower.”

“mhm.” atsumu hums, nuzzling his nose between your breasts. he then slides up and kisses you on the lips before getting off you.

he takes a spot at the end of seat, putting on his underwear and his pant. he collects your underwear from the floor of the car and your brasier from the front seat, handing you the pair in order to slide the garments on. you stretch your hand and receive the garments, requesting, “i’m sore, can you pull me up?”

“sure.” he nods as he grabs your hand and drag you off the car seat.

he asks, gesturing at your brasier, remembering you had a hard time putting it on earlier, “need any help?”

you shake your head, signaling that you’d prefer to be aided by him. you turn your back to him, sliding your arms into the straps of your brasier. you collect your hair and tie it into a ponytail, allowing maximum visibility to make the task easier for him. he puts the hooks into their respective eyes, cupping your boobs, kissing your cheek as he teases you, “just making sure they’re secured.”

“you don’t need to.” you take his hands off your breasts, rolling your eyes.

you slide your underwear into position, then pull up your dress into the correct position, turning around once again, requesting, “can you zip it?”

“sure.” atsumu agrees to do it for you, helping you out.

he suggests, nervous hand scratching the back of his neck, unsure if you’ll consent, “you should spend the night at my place.”

“i don’t mean to force you,” he starts blabbering nervously, stuttering around his words, “i mean you can shower then we can have some food and sleep.”

you can’t help but laugh out loud at the nervous mess that he instantly became at the mere thought of inviting you over to his place. you find it ironic because he had no trouble thrusting his dick inside of you not once, not twice, not thrice, but four times so far. but now that he has to invite you to spend the night, he’s getting cold feet. you don’t think it’s embarrassing on his behalf, just comedic.

he isn’t sure what warranted your laugh, but it makes his more nervous, and he continues jabbering, “i don’t have anything fancy at home right now, but we can have some ramen.”

you keep staring at him with an amused expression on your face, letting him prattle and stumble around his multiple suggestions. you’re still in disbelief that this is the same man who has made sexual advances on you on multiple occasions and succeeded in subduing you every single time.

“maybe we watch a movie or two before heading to bed.” he goes on, rephrasing, “no, but a lot warm shower first, of course.”

you kiss him on the lips to shut him up for once and for all. he reciprocates, kissing you back. his hand finds itself dragging your sleeve down once again. but you slap his mischievous arm, halting him, “enough.”

“let’s go to your place already.” you push him off you, leaning toward the back door to open it up so that he can get to the driver’s seat.

“yea, let’s go.” atsumu mutters as jumps out of the back seat. he closes the door behind him, simultaneously opening the door to the front seat. he puts himself into the driver’s position and keys the car in order to get the engine going. he begins driving in the direction of his apartment.

you request, pointing to the stereo, “put on some music. won’t you, tsumu?”

“yes, kitten, whatever you want me to do.” he complies, turning the knob to raise the volume, proceeding to select a radio station at random.

in the backseat, you’re bemused at his choice of music, but before you can retaliate and coerce him to switch stations, your body, extremely sore from all the pleasure seeking tonight, drifts off to sleep almost instantly.

atsumu notices when his terrible choice of music doesn’t incite a response from you and he’s met with dead silence from the back seat. he turns around to check on you, only to find you passed out in your spot, neck hanging in the air without any support.

he pulls his car to the side of the road and gets out of his seat. he opens the back door to position your body such that you lay flat on the backseat in a rather comfortable position, as opposed to your previous one. he jumps back into the driver’s seat and begins driving towards home, reaching out to lower the volume of the stereo, declining the possibility of disturbing you while you’re sleep.

OCTOBER 18, 11:25 PM

location— atsumu’s apartment complex

once you reach atsumu’s apartment complex, he parks the car in his designated spot. he gets off to open the back door and grabs your purse first, sliding it over his arm. he then lifts your body off the seat as subtly as possible, such that you aren’t woken up by his movement. he carries you all the way to his flat, supervising diligently, making sure that any move he makes doesn’t lug you away from your slumber.

standing in front of the door to his apartment, he finds himself in a dilemma, unsure of how to reach for his key in order to open the door. with his hands busy holding you close, the task seems unachievable. left with no option but to disturb you, he whispers into your ear, “you need to wake up, kitten.”

“i’m sorry.” he apologises, kissing your forehead.

when you don’t wake up in the first go, he repeats, whispering into your ear, “come on, kitten.”

“it’s time to wake up.”

you feel his hot breath against your ear drum, forcing you awake. you flutter your eyes open, finding yourself in his arms, quite confused, unsure of the circumstances. after analysing for a moment, you realise you must’ve fallen asleep and he must’ve had to carry you all the way to his apartment.

you mumble, voice sleepy, “i’m sorry.”

“you can let me down now.” you say, yawning, jumping out of his arms, “i’ll be fine.”

you put your head against his shoulder, sleepy eyes on the verge of closure, and he supports you by the waist as he reaches for the key and opens the lock. he pushes the door open, entering himself. then, he take your hand, leading you in. closing the door behind him, he drops down to his knees to free your feet from your footwear.

you step back in hesitance, chirping, “you don’t have to.”

“please, i can do it myself.” you insist, squatting down to release the straps of your shoes, but you’re so sleepy, you lose your balance and fall to the ground.

you squeal, “ah, shit.”

“well that was certainly embarrassing.” you chuckle at yourself, rubbing the nape of your neck nervously. atsumu doesn’t laugh at you, he only makes an effort to help you out. he takes your foot in his hand, unbuckles your ankle strap and takes the heel off. one followed by the other.

he gets off the ground himself, then holds out a hand for you to take. you accept, putting your palm in his. he grips you by the hand and helps you, pulling you up. he instantly lifts you in his arms. you’re taken by surprise in the first few seconds but after a while, you don’t mind in the least. your muscles are far too sore to be put to work and if the cause for the same is aiding you with the commute, you aren’t going to be one to complain against it.

he carries you inside his apartment, leaving the genkan, and takes you straight to his bedroom. he puts your figure on the bed. without saying a word, he walks into his closet.

a muffled voice speaks from the inside, “i know you’re very tired, but i’m going to draw you a bath right now.”

“you should clean up.” he recommends.

he walks out of his closet with a towel, a pair of night suit that belongs to a female and one of his own hoodies. he puts the towel on the chair next to his mater bed, then places the two options on the bed sheet in the space next to you, pointing at the night suit, informing, “that belongs to rin.”

“and that’s mine.” he points to his hoodie.

he offers you a choice, “choose whichever you want.”

he shrugs, explaining himself, “i understand that rin’s clothes may make you uncomfortable, but i only brought them out because you’re the same size as her.”

“it’s okay.” you purse your lips at him, declaring, “i think i’m gonna go with your hoodie.”

he nods, quickly clearing rin’s outfit from the bed, “of course, not a problem.”

“the bathroom is right there.” he points to a door, guiding you to the bathroom.

you drop your back against the bed, babbling as you yawn, closing your eyes, “you go first.”

“i’m going to lie down for a while.” you say, turning on your side, drifting to sleep.

he nods, leaving you on the bed as he walks into the bathroom, “alright, i’ll be right back.”

atsumu takes a shower first, changing into a set of fresh clothes. he comes out of the bathroom to find that you’re still asleep in the same position he left you in. he sits beside you and leans closer to wake you up, when he notices your light snores. he chuckles to himself because he finds it absolutely adorable.

he tickles your feet, whispering in your ear, “it’s your turn now, kitten.”

you’re jolted awake by the ticklish sensation spreading across your foot plantar aspect. you whine, reaching out to slap his hand, “what the hell.”

“stop it.” you grunt, rubbing your eyes open.

he takes you by the waist and drags you out of bed. he picks up the towel from the chair, putting it on your shoulder.

he gives you a light push in the direction of the bathroom, instructing, “go take a shower, i’ll be in the kitchen.”

“okay, i’ll go.” you maffle, yawning as you enter his bathroom.

you close the door behind you, while he walks out of the bedroom and trails towards the kitchen to make preparations for dinner for two.

once you’re done, you put on his hoodie, tie your hair into the towel for the water to be absorbed by the fabric, and walk out of his bedroom. you navigate your path to the kitchen and find atsumu waiting on you, two packets of shin ramyun, a pot to cook it in and cutlery to serve, as well as other necessities arranged on the island.

“i was expecting the food to be ready by the time i made it out of the shower.” you approach him, sighing in disappointment when you find the packets of ramen untouched.

he raises his brow at you, wrapping an arm around your waist, dragging you closer, “is that why you took your sweet time, kitten?”

“precisely.” you nod, adding to his sarcastic remark, walking out of his hold to lift the pot off the marble top.

you take it to the sink to fill it up with water. he follows, turning the tap for you while you hold the pot underneath the stream of water. once it’s filled a little under the brim, he closes the tap and you place to pot on the stove. he turns on the heat, adjusting it to maximum so that the water will come to a boil faster.

“dry my hair, i’ll cook for us.” you instruct, releasing the towel that binds your hair. you hand it to him.

he accepts your request, putting the towel over your head, massaging your hair as he makes sure the remainder of the water is soaked up by the towel that has already done a good enough job. you turn around to grab the packets of ramen from the kitchen island. atsumu follows your lead, focusing on drying your hair while you move back to the stove.

you ask, cutting open the first packet of ramen to retrieve the cake of noodles, “how the hell did you come out of the bathroom with dry hair, anyways?”

“one, mine is short.” he justifies, dropping the towel over your shoulder. he pinches your cheek, mentioning, “two, i used a hairdryer.”

you sigh, slightly disappointed in yourself, “seems i completely missed it.”

“you can use it now if you’d like.” he suggests, picking the towel off your shoulder, putting it on your head once again, continuing to dry your hair.

you decline, insisting, “no, thanks. i should cook the ramen first.” you cut open the second pack to retrieve the second cake of noodles.

once the water comes to a boil, you add the raw noodles to the pot, minimising the heat. you take the tastemakers out of both the packets, putting them to the side. you peek around, looking for the bin.

you ask, holding out the waste in front of his face, “where do i throw this?”

he drops the towel on your head, collecting the waste from your hand and walks over to the bin in the corner of the kitchen to discard it. you continue keeping a watch over the noodles being cooked in the pot. he returns and begins massaging your hair once again.

“you’ve done enough.” you state, turning around to face him. you take the towel off your head and walk to the dining table in order to temporarily place it on a chair for it to dry a little.

you walk back to the stove to check on the ramen. you take a pair of chopsticks and pick a noodle out of the pot. you blow some air over it, then chew on the noodle to confirm that it’s cooked. once you’re sure, you turn off the heat and drain the water, adding the tastemaker to the pot. you mix it around, making sure it spreads evenly, before you serve the noodles in two plates.

you grab the noodles with your pair of chopsticks, and turn around to offer the bite to atsumu, “here, have this.”

atsumu takes up your offer, complimenting your skills, “good job, chef.”

“but nothing tastes as good as you, kitten.” he sneers at you, then closes the distance between the two of you to place a kiss on you lips.

you scrunch your face, disgusted, complaining, “really, tsumu? you had no business saying that right before dinner.”

“my bad, kitten.” he sighs, apologising.

he relieves your hand of the plate and places it next to the other plate that has been served. he wraps his arms around your waist, locking you in his hold. he kisses you, thrusting his tongue inside your mouth, playing around. you pull back instantly, wiping the saliva dripping from the corner of your lips.

“really?” you roll your eyes, whining in disbelief that he still wants more for the night after doing you twice already.

he mumbles, pushing the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “of course, only if you want to.”

“my body is sore, i can’t.” you decline, pushing him off you. you move on to grab your plate of ramen and start walking towards his couch.

you reason with him, “besides, i need to finish my ramen before it gets cold.”

“of course.” he grieves, his smug smile lowering into a frown as he approaches his own plate of noodles and trails to the couch to join you for dinner.

he puts his plate on the coffee table, putting his arms around your waist, lugging you closer to himself. you’re busy eating your ramen while he kisses your cheek, then your neck, unwilling to let you go, unwilling to touch his share of the food. he isn’t desperate to eat his ramen, he’s only desperate for you. meanwhile you don’t think you can take any more action for the night.

he hugs your tighter, canoodling with you, mumbling, “you’re so cute, kitten.”

he puts his chin on your breasts, mentioning, “so squish, just like obi chan.”

at the mention of her name, obi chan appears, meowing. she jumps on top of the sofa, taking a spot on your lap. atsumu pats her butt, frowning, “obi chan, leave. we’re busy.” the cat gets off, agitated and starts walking in the direction of the bedroom.

“don’t act like a baby.” you warn him, offering a bite out of your own plate, “have the food before it gets cold, will you?”

he takes your plate away, putting it on the coffee table. you lean closer to the table to grab a hold of it, but he stops you and pulls the hoodie off you, revealing that you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“idiot.” you screech, quickly shielding your breasts using your hands.

he apologises, bowing down to you, “i’m sorry i didn’t know you were wearing nothing underneath.”

“i washed my bra and left it to dry.” you explain, vigorously pulling the hoodie out of his grasp to put it on.

he smirks, shrugging, “well nothing i haven’t seen before.” you slap his cheek, albeit not vigorously.

he pretends to be hurt, grunting, “ouch.”

“deserved.” you announce, grabbing your plate of noodles, continuing to dine.

you instruct atsumu, pointing at his untouched plate, “eat.”

he doesn’t bother following your order, instead he nuzzles his nose against your freshly washed hair, speaking in an undertone, “i’ll have it later.”

“right now, i just want you.” he reveals, interrupting the bite of noodles you’re about to gulp down, when he cranes his neck, putting it in the way to kiss you on the lips.

you return his kiss before shoving his face aside. you quake at him, playfully slapping his cheek, then pinching it, “you’re so clingy for someone who doesn’t even want me in his life.”

he wraps his arms around you again, pulling you in closer. you turn your head to kiss his cheek before going back to your dinner. he interjects your next bite, chowing it down himself, laughing at the offensive look that his action put across your face. you roll your eyes, preparing another bite for him, holding it out for him to take.

“i never said i don’t want you.” he confesses, moving your hair out of his way to nibble at your ear, stating, “i just don’t want a girlfriend right now.”

atsumu instantly drops down on one knee. you pay him no heed, knowing all too well that nothing worthwhile is going you drop out of his mouth over the span of the rest of the night. you continue eating the final remnants from your plate of ramen.

still on his knees, he grabs a bite of noodles from his bowl, holding it out to you, proposing, “miss yn, though i cannot make you my girlfriend right now, would you like to be my girlfriend who’s not my girlfriend?”

you know exactly what it means. it doesn’t take you long to figure out that he just wants to keep you around for the sex until further notice. he may proceed to make you his girlfriend or just use and drop you, whatever the future him decides. you want to deny deny deny, but you recall that you had a conversation regarding this issue with him prior this night and still ended up sleeping with him a while later. you’re definitely not god’s strongest soldier when it comes to this man.

“that makes no sense.” you roll your eyes, flicking his forehead, ordering, “get off the damn floor now.”

“fool.” you chastise him.

he stands up, taking his spot next to you, caging you in his embrace once again, nuzzling against you neck, mumbling in a dejected tone, “i’m sad that you rejected me.”

“you just asked me to be your fuck buddy.” you run your fingers through his hair, commenting, “of course i rejected you.”

he looks up at you, smirking at your face, making a claim based on your past experiences, “you and i both know you’ll be weak for me any time i ask you for it.”

“fair enough.” you accept, making no attempt to hide your lack of rigidity when it comes to man clinging onto you.

you give it a thought. you shouldn’t, but you still do. you look at the situation from all angles and you conclude that the worst that can happen is that you end up falling for a man who possibly won’t reciprocate your sentiments. that will probably equal to a few days of crying and whining to shoyou and yachi. but if the tables turn and you successfully make him fall in love with you, you’ll be a winner. the chances of the latter becoming a reality are rare, but you’re willing to take a chance as long as the probably of it isn’t zero.

it sounds stupid, but you can’t deny that you’ll never be able to decline atsumu’s approaches. if you’re to run into him ten thousand more times along the course of your lifetime, you’ll end up in his arms every single time, allowing him to take advantage of you as he pleases. you’re just that weak for some reason, lacking a spine. hence, you choose to no longer see the harm in accepting his shit proposal.

you welcome his offer, muttering, “whatever, i don’t care if we do this.”

“great.” he rejoices, embracing you tighter, kissing your head vigorously multiple times.

you interject his joy, “but i have a few conditions.”

“nevermind.” you drop the idea of mapping any ground rules regarding your arrangement, not that you had planned any to begin with. you didn’t even know you’d end up in an agreement of such nature with him. you were just about to make up some rules at random.

but you still lay down one single rule, “let’s keep our contact to a minimum.”

“we’ll restrict our contact only to our arrangement.” you make a declaration, holding out your hand to sign a treaty with the opposing party, “agreed?”

“agreed.” atsumu grins at you, shaking your hand, utterly satisfied in himself for bagging a girl so effortlessly.

彡 yn said yes to atsumu because of her big fat crush on him, other than the fact that she can’t say no to him.

彡 yn and atsumu ended up watching her favourite movie (how to train a dragon) before they went to bed.

彡 atsumu ended up asking yn if she’d like to spend the day with him and despite her own rule, she ended up saying yes.

彡 yn’s waffles tasted bland because she forgot to add sugar to the batter. so she had to compensate with syrup.

彡 atsumu posted yn on his official account on purpose. he very much intended to do so.

彡 chiyo is extremely happy about atsumu and yn being a thing because she likes tobio.

彡 atsumu picked out the lego set specifically for yn because she’s an artist and he wanted to give her something she would be interested in.

彡 for a change atsumu and yn didn’t end up sleeping together after their date. he just dropped her off at her dorms.

previous : ninth circle of shame

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🐰 imma take my leave.

taglist— @wolffmaiden @viscoolreal @kafkassexchoe @luna-mothii @bomjug @le000xxgrd @dazqa @ineednanami @iluvaquaphor @debussy42 @choizzn @bunninio @empress-pug-pug @karasunoya @sereniteav @yuminako @reooreo @loveelylacey @nbcvs @whosmarjj @spicana

as yall have noticed i have a huge obsession w exes to lovers and i really wanna do on w bakugo LMAO

HEY YALL ITS MY BDAY TODAY!! im officially 18

that was a masterpiece omg

take the edge off. [suna rintarou x f!reader] chapter two.

>>You struggle with your weight and body image, but Suna extensively and thoroughly undoes all the damage done by other guys.

or

You haven't gotten laid in over a year, and your best friend takes it upon himself to fix that for you.<<

series status: [complete]

previous || masterlist. || next.

a/n: as it turns out, suna rintarou is just a TIIIIIINY bit obsessed with his best friend. just a little obsessed with her.

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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The ride back to Suna’s apartment passes in a daze. Where you’d been distracted by your dress on the way to the party, now you just cling to his torso and press the front of your helmet between his shoulders without a single care about anything else. He drives fast, red lights finding his hands reaching back so his fingers can wrap around your thighs and squeeze, not a word shared between you.

You just stare down at your lap, at the hands that roam your legs, blunt nails dragging on your skin with meaning. You shiver, thinking of whose hands they are.

What are you two doing? Is this okay? 

You hadn’t wanted to sleep with Hinata at the risk of your friendship, but fucking your best friend is on the table?

You think of the way he’d grabbed you and handled you, the things he’d whispered in your ear, filthy and sweet at the same time. You think of how soiled your panties are right now, of what’s leaking out of you and staining them at this very moment.

Yes, fucking your best friend is certainly on the table.

Suna rolls up to his regular parking spot, dragging his foot along the ground as the motorcycle slows to a stop. You let him go, and he helps you off the bike, lifting your helmet and staring down at you, just like he had at the beginning of the night.

God, that feels like so long ago.

He swallows, brushing his fingers through your hair. “Still want this?” He whispers, eyeing you. “I can take you home instead.” 

You look at him, gaze trailing over his eyes and lips, over his shoulders and chest and down to the arm that’s wrapped loosely around your waist, covered in ink. Mere hours ago, he’d just been Suna. Just a friend – your best friend. Just the same as Atsumu or Osamu.

You don’t think you could ever want Atsumu or Osamu the way you want Suna Rintarou right now.

“Yeah, I-” You breathe, meeting his green eyes, sharp in the moonlight. “-still want this.”

You watch those eyes darken in real time. 

He turns, the hand on your waist tight, and pulls you toward the door to his building. 

The elevator ride is slow and tortuous, and you watch him glance impatiently at the panel somewhere around the time you pass the fifth floor. Only three more, you think. Three more floors and short walk down the hall before you can kiss him again.

He steps toward you, throwing that entire plan in the trash.

With a hand that slips around the back of your neck, he drags you forward and pins his mouth to yours.

“ Mm- ” Your eyes are wide with surprise, but Suna just angles his head and pushes his lips fully against yours, his eyelashes dark and long against his cheeks.

You let your eyes drift closed and fist his shirt in your hands, clinging and pushing up onto your toes to kiss him right. He smiles against you, pulling away just as the ding of the elevator comes.

He leads you by the hand down the hall, fishing in his pocket roughly for his key. Throwing the door open, he guides you in before him and throws on the lights. You take a moment to look around his place, so familiar and safe, and realize you’re here under drastically different circumstances than normal. Suna spins you around before you can think too hard about that.

His mouth is hot on yours, and he’s pushing you by the hips through the living room, your shoes flying off at the door and your purse clattering to the floor somewhere near the couch. You pull away, halfway to his bedroom, and breathe hard while you tug at his t-shirt. He rips it off, and you undo his belt, the sound of the zipper far too familiar.

“C’mere-” He belts his arms around your middle and dips his head, knocking your hands away so he can kiss you. You feel the wall at your back and lean heavy against it, unstable on your feet and too busy carding your fingers through his hair to care. When he pushes his tongue across the seam of your mouth, you shiver, and he draws your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it.

You feel his fingers tugging on the zipper on your dress, and you pull away, eyes wide, a shock of nerves shaking you.

“We can leave it on, it’s fine,” You try, smiling nervously up at him.

He just lifts a brow and narrows his eyes at you. “You’re funny. Take it off.”

You laugh breathily, tugging lightly on his belt loops. “It’s okay, really-” You gasp, cut short by one of his hands gripping your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks together as he tilts your head back so he can look at you. 

“Your choices here are you taking it off, or me taking it off,” He says, tilting his head. “I’m happy to be of assistance, but I’d rather you do it so I know that you’re comfortable.”

All the breath in your body leaves your lungs, and your eyes go wide, jaw slack. No one had ever spoken to you like that. 

When he smiles down at you, it’s amused.

“Well?”

You blink rapidly, hands angling back toward the zipper of your dress all on their own. 

“Look at you,” He coos, clicking his tongue teasingly. “You’re so sweet when you listen.” 

The way he’s looking at you, so bemused that you would ever think he wouldn’t want you naked, draws a mix of embarrassment and arousal out of you. He moves his hand to cup your face and leans in, lips on yours while your dress falls to the floor. “ Thank you ,” He whispers into your mouth, and it warms your chest.

You’d listen to anything he says to get that praise out of him again.

Still, when he pulls away, you’re nervously crossing your arms over your chest, because the dress is strapless, so you aren’t wearing anything under. 

Your head is clearer than it had been at the party, and you’re worried.

But when Suna’s eyes fall to your covered chest, you think you see them light up a bit.

“You’re not wearing a bra?”

“It’s a…” You nod down at the dress pooled around your feet. “It’s strapless.” You tighten your grip on yourself just slightly, because his fingers are wrapping around your wrists. 

When you fight his pull, tensing, he flicks his eyes to yours in warning. You whine, pouting, and he seems to sense that you’re actually nervous.

His grip loosens. “Should I stop?”

You shake your head, because it’s not him. It’s just that-

“I just want you to think I’m pretty,” You admit, staring when his face splits in a wide grin.

“Okay,” He laughs. “That’s simple enough.” He smiles like he knows something you don’t. When you just blink, he’s ducking low and wrapping his hands around your thighs.

You scream as you’re lifted, arms abandoning their mission to keep you covered and instead aiming just to keep you alive. Suna wraps your legs around his waist while you throw your arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

“ Put me down! ” 

“Nope,” He laughs, walking you through the hall to his room. “Gotta prove that I think you’re pretty.” You’re flushing hard, because your nearly bare body is pressed against his, which means he can feel everything .

“Suna,” You plead, voice serious. “Come on, please, I’m too heavy-”

His laugh tickles your ear, low and warm. “Trust me, you’re not. I was benching your weight in high school.” He pulls his head back to meet your eyes, his own full of mirth as he stresses his point. “In high school , Y/n.”

You don’t know what to make of that. “I-”

“You do trust me, right?” He asks, tilting his head to look right at you. He stops at the foot of his bed, waiting for an answer.

“Yes,” You start. “Obviously I trust you, but-”

“Great,” He cuts you off. 

“What-”

And then he throws you on his bed, dropping you without another word. 

You shriek on the way down, scrambling to cover yourself as you bounce on the mattress. Suna just clamps onto your ankles and drags you to the edge, laughing when you yell his name in warning. 

He crouches by the bed and you sit up, forgetting to cover your chest as you smack his arm angrily. “You are so rough -”

“You don’t like it rough?” He asks, lifting a brow with a smile.

You flush. “No, I do , but that’s not what I meant-”

He’s not listening. His gaze is trained very intensely on your body, eyes going a bit wide and his smile dropping marginally. He swallows, flushing, and pokes his tongue into his cheek as he looks everywhere you don’t want him to. 

“Fuck,” He breathes, deflating a bit. “ Fuck .”

You desperately fight the urge to lift your arms, curling your fingers into his comforter instead. It’s a moment of real strength for you, but you meant it when you said you trust him. “What?”

When he laughs, it’s rough, like he’s a little bit upset with you.

“ Fuck- ” He groans, pushing up toward you and smashing his mouth to yours. You gasp, and he uses it to swipe his tongue against yours, a hand on your shoulder. You’re shoved onto your back, and he climbs over you, teeth nipping and tugging your lip, tongue soothing the pain right after.

You whine, lifting your hands hesitantly to his shoulders while he settles between your knees, hands guiding your thighs apart and around his waist. Trembling when he slides his hand over your tummy and hips, squeezing and kneading, you push your fingers through his hair, kissing him fully so you can distract yourself.

It’s easy, the push of his lips warm and sure, the brush of his tongue on yours safe, comforting. His hand wanders to places you’d always kept covered, other boys perfectly content to fuck you quickly – clothes on, lights off. Either one meant you were shielded, and both was even better.

This boy, though – your boy – seems determined to break all your rules, and you can’t say you’re all that inclined to stop him, if what had happened at the party is anything to go on. 

“ Fuck ,” Suna groans against your mouth, fingers gripping tight to the plush skin of your hips, squeezing and pulling and squeezing again. He drops his mouth to the spot under your ear that you liked so much earlier, that wandering hand finding the curve of your breast while he digs his other arm into the mattress by your head, barely propped up on an elbow while he sucks at that sensitive little spot. 

“W-What? Why do you keep saying that?” You pant, tilting your head and giving him better access. He breathes you in, and you feel his hips grind against yours, the open zipper and undone belt cold on your skin.

“You’re just-” He marks your throat, soothing the burning skin with his tongue as his hips rock unevenly into you again. “ -so pretty.” He makes his way to the crook of your neck while his fingers tease and toy with your nipple. He latches onto your skin when you mewl and arch your back, repeating it to himself, like he’s not even talking to you anymore. “ So fucking pretty. ” 

You gasp when he hardens against you, and you turn your head to press your lips against his shoulders and neck. He angles his head for you, murmuring ‘ fuck ’ when you nibble lightly on his throat.

“ Want you ,” You whisper, sliding a hand between you and pushing at his jeans, palming him while you leave marks on his skin. “ Please .”

“ Fuck- Okay,” He stutters, pulling your hand away and kicking his clothes off. He shuffles down your body, pausing to bury his face between your breasts and groan loudly. “ Fuck! ” He yells, voice desperate and muffled against you and just a little bit unhinged. 

 You laugh breathily, shaking him, and feel him smile against your skin. 

“ Okay, ” He murmurs. “ I got this. I can do this. ” His voice is unsteady and breathy, and you’re a little worried.

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head up, staring at him. He just kisses his way down to your navel, hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling you free of them, talking to himself the whole time.

“ You can do this, Suna, you got it- ” His eyes catch on the mess in your panties and he furrows a brow, staring. “What-” He glances down at your core, and you flush, knowing he’s seeing what’s left of his own cum, spread all over your skin.

You watch his eyes go wide, and he looks up at you. “I forgot about this.”

“I didn’t ,” You laugh, incredibly embarrassed. You start to cover your face, your ears ringing a bit, but Suna’s groaning and throwing his head back as he drops your panties to the floor.

“ Christ, I can’t do this-” He whines, looking down at your core again – he looks stressed, eyebrows furrowed and gaze tense. “I can’t do it–” 

“Can’t do what ?” You ask, starting to feel extremely vulnerable.

He just meets your eyes, shaking his head. “I’m don’t think I’m gonna last. This is gonna be over in five minutes.” 

Whatever fear had been building in your chest, unsure what he’s saying and worried it’s about you, melts away as you stare up at him.

You laugh in disbelief. “Sorry?”

“You fucking should be-” He shakes his head, gripping the undersides of your thighs and prying them apart in front of him so he can stand between them. You tense, the most exposed you’ve ever been, but he’s just sighing down at the mess he’d made on you at the party. “This is going to be the most disappointing performance of my life,” He complains, shaking his head. “I think it’s about to be me that gets fucked stupid-”

“Oh, my God , Suna, just fuck me already!” You laugh, digging your heel into his lower back. “Stop being a fucking idiot-”

“Can we just do this tomorrow?” He says. “I need time to mentally prepare, I feel like a teenager-”

“ Suna! ” You yell, slapping your hands on the bed. 

“I’m sorry ,” He laughs, leaning on the edge of the bed. “You’re just-” He sighs wistfully, shaking his head as he stares down at your core. When he shifts, you feel the head of his cock brush against your thigh. It makes you squirm, and he groans at the sight. “- so fucking pretty ,” He breathes, more to himself than anything. “Just my type.” 

When you laugh, he glances at your face, a brow raised. “Somethin’ funny?” 

“Yeah, you,” You smile easily, like you’re not lying spread-eagle on Suna Rintarou’s bed, both of you completely naked. “You’re funny.”

He stares for a moment, and then his confusion changes to something else. He grins down at you slowly. Yet again, you feel like you’re missing something. “You didn’t know, did you?” A laugh of disbelief slips past his lips. “Back at the party, you didn’t know-”

“Know what ?” You say, exasperated.

“That you’re my type-”

“Oh, come on – I met all your exes,” You laugh, positively tickled as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “They were perfect-”

“No-” He shakes his head, pulling your thighs around him as he kneels on the mattress again. He climbs over you and knocks you back down, smiling like he can’t believe what’s happening. “They weren’t perfect. Not for me.” He cages you in, grinning down at you. “And I ended things with my last ex almost two years ago. I’ve had quite a few one-night stands since then. You know that.”

“ Yeah ,” You roll your eyes, finding it strange that you’re growing comfortable in this continued nudity with him. You’re still nervous and a bit unhappy being so exposed, but Suna’s near-tantrum of groaning and swearing had been soothing, in its own way. Familiar. “And you would always rant and rave afterward about perfect they were.”

You remember each one with stunning clarity, Suna slumping low on your couch and groaning about how ‘ She was everything. She was perfect- I think I fell in love a little bit ’. You’d always laughed it off, imagining beautiful blondes and foreign girls with crazy figures.

“Yeah-” Suna cuts your thoughts short, and you’re glad for it. Your insecurity’s flaring up again. “I did . I did say that, didn’t I?” He starts to smile, staring down at you like he’s saying something incredibly obvious.

It clicks suddenly, that he’d never actually told you what those girls had looked like. 

“Wait-” You blink, meeting his eyes with confusion. 

His smile grows fond, and he shakes his head, his tone almost amazed when he whispers to you.

“You really didn’t know?”

“They were…They looked like-?”

“Mm-hm,” He nods, shifting his weight. “They were sweet and pretty, just like you, now that I think about it. But you -” He straightens, sitting back on his heels and letting out a long breath as he trails his hands down your sides and settles them at your hips. “ You look like one of my college fantasies.”

Your jaw drops, face warming. “Then why the hell did you only date those model types?”

“Because girls that look like you -” He says appreciatively, gaze drawing over your body hungrily. You really need him to stop talking to you like that – you’re barely holding on as it is. “-never seem to want to come up to guys like me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” You laugh shakily at the irony. “Not like you’re perfect or anything.”

“Funny. That’s what I was gonna say about you,” He mumbles, shaking his head as he stares down at your body. You see his cock twitch, and you bite down on your lip when it brushes against you again.

“ Suna… ” You whine, shifting your hips under his hands. He shakes his head, squeezing you and running his thumb over a nearby stretch mark. 

“What’d I tell you about that?” His eyes are dark when they meet yours, and you get the distinct feeling that your casual moment of naked conversation is coming to an end. 

You laugh nervously. “You really want me to call you Rin?”

You’ve only ever said his given name in conjunction with his last, or when you’re angry with him. It would be new, but so is everything else about this.

“What I want-” He starts, leaning over you, lips brushing against yours. One hand curls into the comforter by your head, the other pressing against your core, fingers sliding through your folds. You inhale sharply, arching your back and pushing your mouth to his briefly. He kisses you lazily, pushing the tips of his fingers through the mess at your entrance, dipping in quickly and then smearing his cum all over your clit while he circles it. You whine, spreading your legs wider. He smiles into the kiss before pulling away to look at you. 

“-is my name in your mouth,” He finishes, grinning wickedly when you look up at him longingly, your nerves swooping low in your stomach. “Can you do that for me?”

“ Yes, ” You breathe. “I can do that.”

“Good.” He presses his cock to your core, sliding through your folds a few times and groaning. He rocks his hips, breath shaky. “I’ll try to last long enough to make you stupid.” 

You laugh, nervous and almost vibrating with anticipation, and Suna lines himself up at your entrance.

He hangs his head over you when he slides in, easier this time with the extra lubrication. He groans, bottoming out.

“ Fuck, ” You whisper to yourself, the breath knocked out of you.

“Yeah,” He agrees, nodding. He’s completely still, but you think his arms might be trembling when he holds himself above you. “ Fuck .” 

He keeps his eyes trained on where he’s sliding slowly out of you, and you cling to his biceps as he rocks forward. When he sighs, it’s full of relief. “God, you feel good,” He mumbles to himself, and then he laughs, because you’re clenching tight around him. 

“I like that you do that,” He admits, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “That you react like that when I talk to you.”

You flush, feeling that that’s an incredibly intimate thing to be saying while looking you straight in the eye. You shift, whining low and squeezing his arms.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?” You ask, a little nervous.

Suna looks like he’s in the middle of thinking of something teasing to say, but your question cuts him short. His little half-smile drops and his brow furrows, his eyes searching yours.

“What kind of question’s that?” When you just swallow and stare up at him, he squints. “We’ve been kissing this whole time.”

“Yeah, but…” You trail off, unsure how to explain that a couple guys in college and even one of your previous Osaka boyfriends had a strong preference not to kiss you during sex. The other guys had always gone ahead and kissed you first, and you hadn’t needed to ask.

But you really want to be the one to kiss Suna – something about him makes you want to do things first, which is a new feeling all on its own – and you hadn’t considered that he wouldn’t understand your question.

He stares down at you now, his eyes taking on a cold glint while you decide how to respond.

He mumbles your name in warning. “Why would you need to ask me?”

“I just-” You try. “-want to check that it’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He presses.

“Because for some guys…” You trail off. Suna’s eyes empty of emotion.

“I see.”

You purse your lips uncomfortably. Had you ruined the mood? “We can just keep going, if you want,” You mumble, looking away from him. “Or we can stop-”

You inhale sharply when Suna moves one of his hands to grip your face, the way he had before. He turns your face back to his, his eyes sharp.

“I appreciate that you’re so considerate of what I might want or not want ,” It’s a kind sentence, and he’s smiling, but his voice is so cold that all you can do is blink. “But I’d appreciate it more if you didn’t think about the guys before me while I’m fucking you.”

You pale, realizing that you’ve really gone and pissed him off. He smiles in irritation and lifts a brow, expectant.

“You gonna kiss me or not?”

You clench around him, entirely unconsciously.

His annoyance drops into exasperation, and his smile softens.

“There you go again, reacting when I talk to you.”

You card your fingers through his hair and drag him down to you without a word.

He sighs heatedly against your mouth and starts to rock into you again. “ Don’t ever fucking ask me that question again ,” He murmurs, pushing his lips roughly to yours. “ You hear me? ”

“ Yes ,” You breathe, brain going fuzzy at the stretch. “I hear you.”

He smiles. “Love it when you listen. You’re so good at it.” He lifts his head away from yours just as you’re whispering his name. 

“ Rin, ” You try, nails scratching against his scalp. He shivers under your touch. 

“I like that, too,” He says with a strained voice, his hips shifting as he thrusts into you. “My name in your mouth.” 

You breathe shakily at the continued praise, his name coming out in a moan this time. He laughs and shakes his head, pushing his hips flush against yours.

“Shit,” He grunts through his teeth. “I’m really not gonna last long.”

You pull him down so you can kiss him again. He clamps a hand onto your hip while he tilts his head to slot himself against you better, and his hips start to move faster. When you moan his name into his mouth, it comes in the single breath of time between each slam of his cock into you, his rhythm vicious and perfect.

“ Yes ,” You angle your head back, eyes fluttering shut as you sigh at the relief he’s giving you. 

Suna attaches his mouth to your throat, sucking harshly and marking you without hesitation. Making it clear what he thinks of the guys before him that didn’t want to claim or be claimed by you. 

He drops his head beside yours, breathing uneven when his hips stutter briefly. The hand on your waist reaches up to where you’re clinging to his shoulders, and he pulls one of your hands down to the mattress so he can lace his fingers with yours.

It’s so out of place with how hard he’s fucking you, and that in itself is so deeply Suna . 

Unexpected and surprising, just as he’s always been.

Your stomach swoops sharply, and you clench tight around him. 

When he groans in your ear, a shudder runs through your body and pushes you right to the edge.

“Rin,” You gasp, all the air miraculously missing from your lungs. You’re not sure how to warn him that-

“Did I prove it?” He pants, voice low and vibrating through your skin. “That I think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen?”

You’re standing with one foot off the edge of the cliff, high and with no visible end to the drop you’re about to feel.

You nod frantically, unsure if you want to throw yourself off or hold on for dear life to drag this moment out as long as possible.

Suna grips your hand tight enough that it hurts, and when his hips slam into yours, you’re distinctly aware that you’ll be sore in the morning.

“Then prove to me-” He sucks another mark into your throat, and when you spread your legs impossibly wider, drawing him in, he twitches inside of you. “-that you’re going to keep listening to me.”

Your free hand flies to the back of his head, pulling his hair taut so you can drag him back up to your mouth. When you push your lips urgently against his, he hums in approval.

“ Good ,” He breathes. “ So good for me .”

You should have known that it would be his praise that pushes you off that cliff.

You draw in a loud gasp, his name stuttered and moaned on your exhale.

He follows you over the edge, his hand squeezing yours tight as he stills his hips and fills you for the second time tonight. He moans into your mouth when you push your hips up against his, searching for more.

You kiss him while you come down, slipping your teeth over his lip ring and tugging mindlessly, because your head is filled with your heartbeat and a white noise you’ve only ever heard once before, in Atsumu’s spare room not even a couple hours ago.

After a moment, Suna lifts his head, breathing hard. Your eyes flutter as you fight the urge to close them, and you sigh happily up at him, because he’s starting to smile.

“Good?”

You giggle, a bit delirious. “Good. Stupid.”

He drops his head to your shoulder, laughing. “Good. Me, too.”

“Yeah?” You ask, pride filling you at the idea that you’ve made Suna Rintarou stupid.

“Incredibly,” He confirms, mumbling nonsensically at you. “Irreparably. Infinitely.”

You snort, your voice exhausted and pleased. “Just you wait, Suna Rintarou. When I do the fucking, you’re done for.”

He lifts his head so fast that it startles you briefly out of your stupor, and you’re surprised to find his eyes wide and excited.

“Oh?” He asks, latching onto what you’d said. “When am I gonna get to experience that?”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed that he’d reacted so strongly to your silly ramblings. “Be quiet-”

“I’m free tomorrow morning-No-” He shakes his head. “Give me, like, ten minutes. I can’t wait ‘til tomorrow.”

You smack his arm, your limbs jelly. “Isn’t twice in one night enough for you?”

“Is it enough for you ?” He asks, brows lifted.

No, not even a little bit. Not with him.

Still, someone has to be reasonable here. “I’m tired now,” You complain. “You took everything out of me.”

“Aw,” He coos, pretending to be disappointed. “Tomorrow morning it is, then.”

“God-” You laugh, pushing at his chest. “I need a shower and about 12 hours of sleep. And maybe some food.”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly and pulls away, sighing when he slips out of you. You sit up, quickly, trying not to spill anything on his blankets.

“Let me just go clean up, and then I’ll head out,” You say, scooting past him and reaching for your panties on the floor. You slip them on and stand, wrapping your arms around your breasts, because the post-sex realizations are starting to set in.

So many post-sex realizations. Most of them starting with ‘ What the fuck- ’.

“Head out?” He repeats, sitting dumbly on his bed. You toss him his boxers and head for the bathroom, hearing as he stumbles into them and follows you into the hall.

“Yeah, it’s late,” You glance back toward the kitchen, seeing on the stove clock that it’s well past 2am now. “Do you mind calling me an Uber, or-”

He wraps a hand around your bicep, spinning you around in the hallway and pressing you against the wall.

“What are you doing?” He asks, dipping his head low to meet your eyes. “Why are you running?”

“Running?” You blink, taken aback. “I thought that-”

You know well enough that Suna Rintarou doesn’t let his one-night stands spend the night.

You know even better that your own one-night stands never wanted you to spend the night, either.

“I’m not calling you an Uber at 2:30 in the morning, Y/n,” Suna shakes his head, smiling as though even the idea is funny. “You’re staying.”

You just stare. “But isn’t better if I-”

“I thought you just said you were tired,” He cuts you short, lifting a brow.

You are. You’re exhausted.

“I am,” You nod slowly, entirely unsure how to handle this situation. “But I can leave if-”

When he grips your face, cheeks squeezed between his fingers for the millionth time tonight, he says nothing. He just shuts you up with a hand on your face and his eyes unyielding on yours.

It had taken a single hour of your life to learn how Suna Rintarou deals with you when he’s frustrated.

How had he done it before? When you’d annoyed him, how had he managed? Would he just roll his eyes and move on? Yes, that feels right.

Had he wanted to react this way instead the entire time?

You think of how to proceed, your eyes flicking between his.

“Uhm-” You mumble, and he loosens his grip so you can speak, but his thumb taps a warning into the corner of your mouth. “Okay, can I just… clean up, then?”

He eyes you for a moment, and then he lets you go, watching you step carefully into his bathroom. You close the door while keeping your eyes on his, and you think you see him head back to the room as you’re shutting the door between you.

You spend the better half of five minutes staring at yourself in the mirror. At the marks he’d left on your neck and chest, already bruising. At the state of your nudity, somehow forgotten in the last few moments with him. At the panties you’re wearing, hiding the mess Suna Rintarou had left there not once, but twice tonight. Buried between your legs – not once, but twice . 

Ten years of friendship, changed in a matter of hours.

What are you going to do? Was this worth it? Was risking everything worth a single chance to sleep with your best friend? Would things be terribly awkward now-

“ Stop catastrophizing.”  

His voice pulls you from the pit you’re heading into, quick and painless and effortlessly him.

You glance over your shoulder through the mirror, seeing his shadow under the door.

“ Use the bathroom or open the door – no third option. ”

You wonder if you’d always been prone to following his lead without question.

Yes, you think, as you do exactly as he says and move to the toilet. You have been.

At Inarizaki, when he would hand you his spare volleyball jersey and tell you to sit front row at their games, ignoring the horde of girls glaring from across the room.

In college, when you’d almost decided against the Culinary major, and he’d steered you firmly away from the Econ booth at the recruitment fair and walked you straight over to where Osamu was waiting expectantly, already chatting it up with the upperclassmen wearing chef hats.

Even with your past boyfriends, you’d only become most aware of their flaws and what they really thought of you once you’d introduce them to Suna. Only then – when green eyes would stare at outstretched hands before flicking to yours, unimpressed – would you see their inadequacies. 

Suna Rintarou had always known how to keep you in check, always forcing you to put yourself first.

You stare at your reflection while you wash your hands.

Do you want to stay the night? If he gave you the choice – if you weren’t worried about him wanting you to leave – would you stay?

You crack the door open after another moment, poking your head out. Suna’s leaning on the wall, holding one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers. He eyes you quietly, offering them to you.

Yes , you decide, taking them from him carefully. 

You would stay.

You back away and change quickly, leaving the door cracked. Seeing that the shirt’s bordering on snug around the tummy, you grimace and turn this way and that, wondering how to make it look better.

You don’t notice Suna nudging the door open, but you can sense that he’s watching you in the mirror, so you glance up.

He’s got his eyes trained on how the shirt fits you, eyes dark as he leans against the door frame. His mouth quirks up briefly, and then he’s pulling his lip ring between his teeth.

“I’ll admit-” He clicks his teeth with his tongue. “-that this was a selfish choice on my part.”

You flush. “I look silly.”

“That’s not the word I would have used,” He says, meeting your eyes now. “Still want me to take you home?”

It’s a test, that much is clear. His gaze is guarded, and the slight angle of his eyebrow tells you that, if you say yes, he might be disappointed.

Not in you, you realize. But disappointed all the same.

You turn toward him, facing him head-on as you take a step in his direction. You take a deep breath, reaching out and toying with the band on his shorts, and then look up at him.

“Can I stay?”

You’ve never seen that look in his eye before, the one that’s tinted with pride and warmth. 

You wonder what you could possibly do to see it again.

“Yes,” He all but laughs. “You can stay. Tonight and tomorrow and the day after, too.”

You smile, looking down at your feet. “I’ll take you up on that if you’re not careful.”

“I hate being careful. I’m opposed to it, really,” He grins when you give him a deadpan look. “Stay all week. And next week, too.”

“Shut up-” You smack his arm, following him back to the bedroom.

It’s only when you’re climbing into bed with him – climbing into Suna Rintarou’s bed with the intention of spending the night with him, after you’ve just slept with him – that your nerves return.

“Sunarin,” You start, kneeling beside him on the mattress. “What are we-”

He latches onto the front of your – his – shirt and pulls you down next to him. “Tomorrow,” He mumbles, dragging you close and trapping you under him. His head lands on your chest, and he slings an arm around your waist, a knee lodged between yours. “Tomorrow.”

You still for a moment, and then you slide an arm over his back and card your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly. 

“Tomorrow,” You repeat into his hair.

It’s concerningly easy to fall asleep like that.

–

When you wake the next morning, Suna’s gone.

You have a brief moment of panic at the thought that he’d realized his mistake and run, but then you remember that you’re in his apartment. 

And, apart from that very convincing point, it smells like his house is burning in bacon grease.

You climb out of bed, pausing briefly to be utterly shocked at how sore you are, and then you pad quietly into the hall. 

He’s in the kitchen, running around in a silent panic and waving a dish towel over the smoky mess coming out of his oven.

“I have so many questions,” You say, announcing yourself.

“Fuck!” He jumps, turning. “Fucking fuck, you scared me.”

You smile at his eloquence, rounding the corner of the bar and staring down at the open oven. Several strips of what should be bacon are sitting on a sheet pan, shriveled up and charred to all hell. 

“How long have those been in there?” You smile when you ask, because you can tell by the look of them exactly how long they’ve been there.

“I set the 20-minute timer…” He glances at the clock. “55 minutes ago?” He tilts his head, and you can’t help but think it’s quite endearing. “That’s not right.”

“No, that’s definitely right,” You laugh, plucking the dish towel from him and pulling the pan out easily. You toss the bacon straight in the trash and then put the pan on the stove, pointing at the nearby window as you go. He opens it, and then does the same with the other two in the living room. 

“Well, I think we both know I’ll never be as good at this as you are,” He says, sticking his head out and breathing in fresh air.

You just open his fridge and duck inside, finding half a pack of bacon and a carton of eggs. You pull both out, along with some vegetables to throw into a scramble. “Why are you making breakfast?” You know well enough that he doesn’t eat in the morning, and he’d always hated cooking for himself.

“Because-” His voice is close again, and you find him peering pathetically at the bacon in the trash. “-you’re always on my ass about eating three square meals a day. I didn’t want to get yelled at.”

You chop an onion quickly, rolling your eyes at the appreciative noises he makes at your quick knifework. 

“So professional,” He teases, whistling.

“It’s an onion, Suna,” You laugh. “If you can’t dice an onion at your grown age, we have bigger problems to address.”

“See, this is the shit I was trying to avoid-” He whines, moving around you. “Coffee?”

You glance back, seeing that he’s at his coffee maker. He smirks down at you.

“I don’t have an industrial grade espresso machine, unfortunately. But drip coffee does the job, I would assume.”

You roll your eyes again. “I’m not some stuck-up coffee bitch-”

“Don’t tell your customers that,” He jokes, and you watch as he scoops tablespoons of ground coffee straight from a bag of your own shop’s brand. You smile, somehow not having realized that he gets his coffee from you. “They’re relying on your stuck-up coffee bitch tendencies to tell them what’s good.”

“Noted,” You respond, moving to his stove. He brushes a hand on your waist as he reaches over you to get two mugs from the cabinet, and you lean back to let him open the cabinet door, finding yourself pressed warmly against his chest.

It’s all terribly domestic, in a way that things have never been between the two of you.

When he presses his mouth lazily against the side of your head in something that’s not quite a kiss but certainly can’t be deemed platonic, the nerves from last night set in again.

You glance up as he moves away, finding that he’s eyeing you for a reaction.

You bow your head, shifting chopped bacon around the pan and focusing hard on making a decent egg scramble. He chuckles to himself, preparing your coffee the way he knows you like it, and your stomach swoops with a fluttery feeling you’d never thought to associate with Suna Rintarou.

You serve breakfast quickly and take the plates quickly to the couch, feeling his presence behind you.

You start to eat in relative silence, but he only lasts a matter of two minutes.

“Stop thinking so hard. It’s ruining my appetite.”

You sigh, the dam broken now, and set your plate down on the table.

“Can we talk about it?”

“Obviously,” He responds with ease, setting his plate next to yours. “That’s why I made you stay.”

You blink. “What?”

“You think I was gonna just let you go home and avoid me for a week until I would have to corner you at work?” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t have the energy to be that dramatic, and neither do you.”

You work through that slowly. “You knew that taking me home would make me anxious…?”

“Dude,” He laughs, digging the heel of his hand into his eye. “How long have we known each other?”

You don’t know if you’re offended or relieved that he’d called you Dude after fucking you twice in one night.

“How many times in our friendship have you tried avoiding me?” He continues, eyeing you knowingly.

You think right away of that very first time, when he’d started walking you home after school and then picking you up in the morning. When you’d felt a bit wary of him and opted to stay away, only for him to stop you in your tracks and reel you back in after a couple weeks.

And then again, in college, when his then-girlfriend had asked you to stay away from him. They’d been together a while, and he’d seemed happy, so you had tried it. He’d shown up at your door after exactly 6 of his messages had gone unanswered, demanding an explanation. It had been a day and a half.

Just one other time, a few months after moving to Osaka, when he’d come over and found one of your vibrators on the couch. You’d promptly disappeared into your room, determined to wait him out, but he had picked your lock after an hour and then proceeded to chase you around your apartment with the toy, scolding you for your avoidant tendencies.

And now, this. Not even ten minutes into the beginning of your panicked spiral, he’d yanked you out of it and gotten you to stay with him. Mere minutes to settle your nerves.

“Oh,” You mumble, understanding now that he had never let you stray for too long, even back then.

“Yeah. Oh ,” He laughs. “So stop panicking internally and start panicking externally so I can fix it.”

You pick at a stray piece of lint on the t-shirt he’d given you. “I’m worried things will be ruined between us.”

“Not happening. Next.” He says it with such certainty that you need a moment to recover.

“That’s it? Not happening?” You laugh wryly, shaking your head. “You kissed the side of my head while getting a cup from the cabinet.”

He just shrugs. “You got a kissable head. Not my fault.”

“Suna!” You smack your hands on the couch cushion, frustrated. “I am worried about this!”

“And I-” He starts, turning toward you now. “-am not.” He looks you straight in the eye. “I am not worried about this. At all.”

“Why not?” You plead, voice a bit whiny. “Why are you so unconcerned about this?”

“Because I trust you, and you trust me,” He says simply. “At the end of the day, that’s all that matters. We deal with things together, and we trust each other.”

“I don’t know how you can feel so settled about something this complicated,” You sigh.

“There’s nothing complicated about it, Y/n,” He shakes his head. “You wanted to get laid, and I offered.”

You frown. He lifts a brow, asking a pointed question.

“Did you have fun?”

You think about every moment that made you tremble last night, about the soreness between your legs. Your face warms, and you find him smiling knowingly down at you. He tilts his head.

“Yeah. I did, too,” He admits, smile widening when you flush harder. “Why would I want that to stop? We had fun.”

You stare, nerves frozen. You hadn’t mentioned anything about continuing with this little arrangement. 

He lifts a brow. “You thought we were done?”

Your stomach swoops with anticipation. “I mean… We… I got what I… And you…”

He shakes his head. “Nope. There’s a lot of shit we gotta fix.”

“Fix?” You repeat, scoffing. “About me?”

“Not you . The shit you’ve internalized,” He says, giving you a look. “Asking if you can kiss me ? Really ? That’s fucked up.”

You warm again, embarrassed. “Well, I’ve made the mistake of assuming before that-”

“The only mistake you’ve made-” He cuts you off. “-is letting unworthy guys into your bed. Everything else is on them.”

You swallow. “And you think you’re worthy?”

He watches you carefully. “I think that’s up to you to decide.”

When you don’t respond, only staring at him dumbly, he scoots closer, eyes dropping to your mouth.

“Will you let me show you that everyone before me was wrong?” He swallows, the mood heavier than before. “Because I think I could – I think I should.”

You breathe out a shaky sigh, eyes catching on the glint of his lip ring. “You don’t have to do me any favors-”

You watch as that lip ring moves with the curve of his smile, slow and laughing at some joke you don’t realize you’ve told.

“Favors,” He echoes, shaking his head and leaning close. Your lungs fill with the scent of him, and his eyes are dark when you finally look up at them. “You must think very highly of me if you think that’s what this is.”

You’re leaning close, head dipping toward his before you can think too hard about it. 

“I really don’t think I should use you for sex, Suna,” You protest weakly.

His lips brush against yours when he whispers to you.

“But I really want you to.”

When you curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, he presses his mouth to yours. It comes with a fuzzy feeling in your head, a fog that makes it hard to say no. He tilts his head and leans forward, and you find yourself half-trapped under him, heading in a direction that’s terrifyingly familiar.

“Is that a yes, then?” He murmurs, fingers sliding up past the hem of your shirt and kneading at your waist.

You nod after a moment, trying to focus on putting yourself first. He’s suggesting this, and he’s made it clear this is for him, too. The memory of how he’d looked down at you last night, hungry and needy, sends a tingle through your body.

What’s the harm in a little fun between two consenting adults?

“If you’re sure,” You breathe into his mouth, offering your consent and giving him the final say. 

You find yourself pressed up against corner of the couch after that, Suna caging you in and slotting his hips between your thighs.

“ Thank fuck ,” He whispers, tangling his fingers in your hair and molding his mouth to yours. He presses his hips very gently between yours, seeking silent permission. You sigh into his mouth at the feel of him against your core, already half-hard, but then you wince, because he’s pushing up against a rather sore spot.

He pulls away, eyes searching your face. You grin sheepishly. 

“Just a little sore.”

His brows lift, and he’s glancing down between you. “Shit, I didn’t realize-”

“It’s fine,” You laugh, shaking your head. “I wasn’t really expecting it, either. Guess it’s just been a while.”

He has positively no need for the inflated ego that would come with telling him you’ve never been with someone of his… physique. 

Still, you can’t help but rather cryptically mumble to yourself, “ Just gotta get used to it .”

You feel his pleased grin in the silence that follows.

“I can, uh-” His voice is so smug, you want to smack him. He hooks a finger into the band of the boxers he’d lent you, tugging suggestively. “-think of something that might help with that.”

The room becomes suddenly quite a bit warm.

You glance up through your eyelashes, that fuzzy feeling returning when you find him staring back. You lift your hips just enough to help him pull the shorts off, his eyes on yours the entire time. They’re filled with thinly veiled excitement, the kind of excitement he might actually be embarrassed to realize he’s showing.

This Suna is the same as last night, but something’s different. He’s not the Suna that had guaranteed he would focus on you, with no care for securing his own pleasure. 

This Suna is reaching for your hips with hands that want to do things without asking, hands that want to take what they want selfishly. You jump when he drags you up and onto his lap, your bare core pushed down onto his boxers. You gasp in surprise, feeling him so intimately through the fabric, and he does the same, his hips shifting on instinct under you.

“ Fuck, Rin ,” You whisper, chasing the slide of him against you, the fabric of his boxers already wet. When you say his name, his head falls back, and he stares up at you with cloudy eyes. He cups the back of your neck and pulls you down, lips full on yours.

You barely register when he lifts your hips just enough for him to tug his boxers down, but you feel it with haze-inducing certainty when he brings you back down and drags you along the length of him. Your head hangs forward, forehead pressed against his as you copy his motion on your own, his cock wonderfully hard and searing hot against your core.

“ Yes, ” He breathes, fingers gripping your waist. “ Just like that -” He buries a hand in your hair and pulls your lips to his, his hips moving in time with yours while he kisses you. He reaches between you, and you know without being told to lift up just enough that he can line himself up against your entrance.

When you sink down on him, his moan mixes with yours in your mouth. The stretch makes you ache, all those sore spots crying out around him, but, more than anything, it feels so impossibly good . 

You start to move, trying to find a way to lift up off of him, but he slides an arm around your waist, keeping you sitting firmly in his lap. You let out a noise of protest, and he smiles.

“ Getting you used to it ,” He murmurs against your lips. You squirm impatiently, and he holds you tighter. “ Just be patient. I don’t wanna hurt you more ,” He scolds, his voice so low and gentle and vibrating so softly against your lips.

You drop your head to his shoulder, whining quietly. “Want you to move.”

“That’s too bad,” He snickers into your neck. His hand falls between you, and you jump at the cold pad of his thumb on your clit. He circles it carefully, breathing unevenly when you start to clench around him. “You did it just fine last night, didn’t you?” He laughs, cut short when you swirl your hips, shifting around him just enough to make the rest of his comment come out with a moan. “Come on, Y/n, let me help you.”

You give in, slumping against his chest with a sigh. He whispers into your ear, a breathy ‘ Good girl ’ sending a shock of nerves down your spine. His thumb warms on your clit, the only movement shared between you, apart from the constant, unconscious clench of your walls around his cock. He twitches inside you each time, small sighs leaving him.

A particularly hard swipe of his thumb makes you shiver, and Suna’s sigh is more audible than the one before, almost a moan but more of a choke on his breath before a harsh release. You lift your head, eyes hazy as you stare down at his mouth, willing those parted lips to let that sound come again.

He stares back, and you trace the flush of his cheeks, radiating warmth, up to his eyes. He looks just as far away as you feel, the fog in your head reflected in his gaze.

You hold his gaze for a moment, the slide of his thumb on your most sensitive spot electrified when combined with the lock of his eyes on yours. 

When his gaze drops to your mouth and then flicks up again, your nerves twist in your navel, and you let out a soft whine. 

His eyes widen marginally at the sound, and his cock twitches hard against your walls. You both moan, and his hands slide to your waist so he can drag you against him, a moment of brief insanity.

“ Oh, ” You exhale, eyes wide. Suna sighs in response, a quiet ‘ fuck ’ slipping past his lips. Your fingers fall between you, picking up right where he left off.

“Oh, God,” He moans, staring down at how your fingers move. “Look at you.”

You whine and close your eyes, trying to push down the embarrassment that’s flooding your cheeks. You feel his hands pull you down over him, and he holds you tight to his chest.

“ Don’t get nervous ,” He murmurs against your ear, an arm securing you to him. “ You’re doing so good .” 

You bury your face in his shirt, his scent intoxicating in a way you hadn’t noticed before yesterday. The coil in your navel twists hard, the cliff right there where you remember it. “ Is this okay?”

“ More than okay .” His breath is warm on your skin. “ Keep going. Use me – please- ”

You add ‘ begging’ to the list of ways Suna can shove you right over the edge, right under ‘ praise’ .

Your ears ring when you come, your half-sob of his name into his shirt completely unheard. He just slides his hand into your hair and holds you close as you twitch against him, his breath warm and unsteady in your ear.

You heave a breath into the crook of his neck after a moment and then lift your head, your nose brushing against his when you look at him. He smiles lazily at you, eyes flicking to your lips and back when you start to mirror it.

“Still sore?”

You laugh, nodding. “It’s better, though. Not as much of a stretch. Doesn’t hurt to sit like this.”

Suna grimaces. “I wish you woulda told me it hurt.”

“It wasn’t very high on my list of priorities last night.”

His smile has a hint of pride that’s only mildly exasperating. “Well, hopefully next time, it won’t hurt at all.” 

You flush at the anticipation of next time , of the arrangement set for the indefinite future.

You take him in then, realizing that he hadn’t finished. His cheeks are still heated, and there’s a slightly distracted tint to his gaze.

He’s upsettingly pretty.

“What about you?” You ask, sitting up slightly. He purses his lips at the movement, shaking his head.

“It’s fine. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

You frown, looking at him with uncertainty. Never once had you been with a guy that had just stopped before he could benefit from being with you.

Suna smiles back bitterly, reading you. “Weren’t expecting that, huh?” When you say nothing, he sighs to himself. “So much to fix.”

You frown, disliking that word, even now. “I’m not a pet project-”

“ No- ” He cuts you off, lifting his hand to your face, eyes clearly laced with irritation that you’d suggest something like that. 

His fingers hover over your cheeks, and you know he wants to squeeze you, but he slides his fingers through your hair instead, a small sigh steadying him. “You’re not a project. You’re not a charity, either, and I’m not doing you any favors- ” He tightens his grip on your hair, speaking through gritted teeth. 

“You’re my best friend, and I think my newest hobby should be finding every guy you’ve ever had the misfortune of encountering and beating his kneecaps out with my bare hands.” 

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement, but he’s not done.

“I’m angry, more than you probably think, that several guys have made you feel like you can’t have everything you want-” He uses his grip to pull your face close, and your smile drops when you have nowhere else to look but at his eyes. They’re dark – cold and annoyed – but there’s something else there that make your nerves twist with a tinge of excitement. A promise to give you something you thought only pretty girls deserved.

“I’m angry that I did not realize just how much I should have hated all those guys you introduced me to-” His heated sigh warms your lips. “-or that I could have been the one in their place all this time, making sure you never got to this point.”

You stare, eyes wide, when you realize what he’s saying. That if he could go back, he would. That he would undo everything – that he will undo everything.

Suna keeps your eyes on his when he speaks. “So I’m going to fix it , and you’re going to let me. ”

You don’t know what to make of the way your nerves flutter, the way your heart pounds for Suna Rintarou.

You swallow, nodding shallowly. “ Okay ,” You whisper, because you don’t know that you can speak any louder than that.

He breathes, echoing back. “Okay.” He blinks, loosening his grip just enough to give you room to pull away. “Now,” He sighs. “Can we finish eating and go to work? Because the way you’re looking at me is making me hard again.”

You only realize he’s still inside you when his cock twitches, and you have to laugh, disbelief flooding you.

“Uh-Yeah-” You stumble, lifting off of him and tensing when he slips out of you. Suna sighs, tucking himself into his shorts and then reaching for his plate.

“Fucking breakfast,” He grumbles, shoveling cold egg scramble into his mouth. “Three square meals a day, my ass.”

This man’s going to give you whiplash, you’re sure of it.

–

When you walk into your shop, freshly showered and wearing one of Suna’s hoodies over the single pair of jeans you’d left at his place months ago, you’re incredibly glad that you hadn’t let him walk you inside. 

Osamu is standing at the door leading to the back hallway, smiling far too happily for your liking. 

“Hi,” You say to him, suspicious of the look on his face. You round the bar of your half of the shop, greeting the barista on shift. Haru’s a college frat boy, but he’s sweet and brings a lively energy to the shop that neither you nor Osamu can manage on your own. The girl standing behind the register on Osamu’s side, a classmate of Haru’s named Mayuri, is often exasperated with him, but their constant bickering only adds to the appeal of your store overall. 

“Hey, Haru,” You grin, patting him on the shoulder as you pass behind him. He just whistles low as he pulls espresso shots. 

“Fun night?” 

When you just blink, he glances back at you and beams, lifting one hand to the side of his neck. “Try a turtleneck next time, Boss.” 

You gasp, slapping your hand over the bruise you’re now aware of. “I-” You turn to Osamu, who’s smiling to himself as he heads back into the small hallway bridging your two shops. 

You turn and rush through the door behind the bar, one that leads into your storage room, and Osamu appears at the doorway on the other end of the room, clearly aware that this conversation can’t happen out in the main room.

“Don’t-” You point at the smug grin on his face. “-look at me like that.”

“How was the rest of your night?” He asks, leaning on one of the counters and crossing his arms over his chest.

“How was yours?” You tease, lifting a brow. “How’s Yachi?”

And then you duck, because he’s throwing a bag of coffee beans at you.

“She’s great, thank you for asking,” He says through gritted teeth and a blush. “We’re getting dinner on Friday.”

You gasp, forgetting all about taunting him. “Really?!” You move to his side, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “How? When? What’d you say? What’d she say? Where are you going-”

“Y/n,” He laughs, throwing his head back. “Deep breaths, please.”

You breathe in and out dramatically before tapping a hand rapidly on his arm. “Details, details!”

He shakes his head. “I asked, she said yes, we’re going to that Italian place you’re always talking about-”

“Yes!” You jump, smacking him hard on the shoulder. “Miya Osamu, everybody!” You smack him again for good measure. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Oh?” He lifts a brow. “Do I need to make sure Suna never hears that?”

Your excited bouncing stops abruptly, and you flush hard, much to the pleasure of your friend. He reaches out in your silence, prodding lightly at the mark on your throat. You just smack his hand away lightly with an embarrassed laugh. “What d’you want me to say, Samu?”

“Everything-” He says right away, clearly dying for information. But then he grimaces. “Well, not everything , please. But, you know-”

You scoff, affronted, and lean on the counter across from him. “I think you know most of it.”

“I highly doubt that,” He shakes his head, staring you down. “There’s a whole night between when I last saw you and right now.”

“Well, obviously, some of that time was spent sleeping,” You try, intentionally being difficult. It doesn’t work, Osamu a wall of patience after a lifetime with his brother.

“Oh, yes, obviously. But that still leaves-” He counts obnoxiously on his fingers. “-a good three or four hours unaccounted for. And-” He flicks his chin in the direction of the main room. “-considering who left you at the door two minutes ago, I’m gonna guess that your bed was very lonely last night.”

You warm to the point of discomfort, crossing and uncrossing your arms over your middle. “There was some bed sharing, yes.”

“Oh, some bed sharing,” Osamu echoes, nodding very seriously, his eyes betraying the mirth he feels. “Yes, some bed sharing – and before that? In the time between damaging a door in one of Tsumu’s spare rooms and sharing Suna’s bed?”

“We didn’t damage a door- ” You hiss, embarrassed, but he just smiles at you. You sigh. “But there may have been some… other bed sharing.”

Osamu hides his face in his hands and laughs loudly. You stomp a foot.

“What!” 

He shakes his head, waving a hand with a sigh. “Nothing. What else?”

“Nothing,” You say stubbornly. “That was it.”

“Bullshit,” He smiles evenly, clearly unconvinced by your performance. “It’s-” He glances at his watch. “-ten in the morning, and you were giving him bedroom eyes when he dropped you off.”

“I was not!” You yell, humiliated.

“Something else happened this morning,” He teases, ignoring your outburst. “So you can either tell me now when it’s just us, or you can tell me later, but Atsumu won’t be as nice when he asks.”

You pale, forgetting about the consequences of sleeping with Suna Rintarou in Miya Atsumu’s apartment.

As though punished by the mere thought of him, you hear the door to the shop slam open, the bell jingling violently.

“ Where y’at, punk! ” 

The consequence in question being Miya Atsumu himself.

You stare up at Osamu, eyes wide, but the man just shrugs and smiles down at you.

“Good luck,” He says, offering no comfort aside from that.

You rush out to the front, finding your worst enemy on the other side. 

Atsumu stares down at you from the counter, eyes wide. Sakusa’s just behind him, eyeing the area behind the bar as though deciding if he wants to order something. The germaphobe meets your eyes, and you see the shape of his mask change as he face rises into a small, polite smile.

“I figured you’d need help,” He says plainly, eyes leaving yours to flick to a jar filled with open straws when Haru comes over and plucks one from inside while making someone else’s drink.

You smile, ignoring Atsumu and stepping up to the register. “What can I get you, Kiyoomi?”

“Mm,” The man hums, glancing up at menu. You feel Atsumu’s eyes boring into the mark on your throat but keep your eyes on his not-boyfriend, watching him glance briefly at the stack of plastic cups and then at the jar of straws again. He clears his throat. “Just an iced latte, please.”

You punch the order into the register and then clear the charge with your authorization code just as he’s reaching into his wallet. He watches the pay screen disappear in confusion, but you just smile up at him innocently and turn to Atsumu while the order prints out on Haru’s side of the bar. 

“Need something, Tsumu? A latte for you, too?”

“Nah, I’m good,” He smiles back, just as innocent but with an icy edge. “Some answers’d be nice, if ya sell those here.”

“Oh, sure, answers,” You grin, matching his cold tone. You feel Haru glance nervously at you while he pulls the shots for Sakusa’s drink, so you shoot him a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, Haru, we’re just chatting.”

“Yeah, just chattin’,” Atsumu grins knowingly down at you. “Caught you just chattin’ in my kitchen last night with a certain someone-”

“Alright-” You interrupt, your smile threatening. “-I think you’ll find your answers in the back, actually,” You say, because Haru doesn’t need all the details of your unexpected night with Suna. 

The frat boy hands you Sakusa’s drink, strawless, and then moves to wipe down the bar. 

While his back is turned, you set the drink down and reach for a pair of latex gloves under the counter and pull them on. Crouching, you pull a fresh cup from stock, one that’s yet to see the light of day. You pour out Sakusa’s drink into the clean cup and cap it, and then, as Sakusa’s taking it with wide eyes and lifted brows, you reach under the counter again and retrieve the box of straws, holding it out to him so he can grab a clean straw for himself. He reaches for it slowly, blinking a few times in quick succession before mumbling a quiet ‘ Thank you ’.

“Any time,” You say with a bright smile. And then you turn, tossing the used cup and gloves and leaving Haru to man the bar again while you lead the boys to where Osamu’s still waiting for you. You hear Sakusa whisper ‘ You told her? ’ to Atsumu as you go, smiling to yourself when the blond just mumbles ‘ I di’nt tell her nothin’ , Omi ’. 

When Atsumu sees his brother waiting, he makes a beeline for him, all but yelling, “What’d she tell ya? Tell me!”

Sakusa stops you at the door, the sleeve of Suna’s hoodie caught between the knuckles of his pointer and middle fingers as he pulls you back. He pushes some cash into your palm, far more than his drink would have actually cost.

“Thank you,” He says again, gaze meaningful.

“Any time,” You repeat, just as meaningfully. You try to push the money back, but he just brushes past you with a hidden smile, leaving you holding his cash as he moves to Atsumu’s side. He stands closer to the blond than he had outside, because it’s safe to do so here. You lift a brow at Atsumu, who flushes briefly before pointing at you.

“Uh-uh, don’t go distractin’ me – Did you fuck ‘im er not?” 

You choke, eyes bugging out at him. “Atsumu-”

Osamu snickers into his hand. “What’d I tell you? He’s brutal.”

Atsumu ignores it. “Answer me, woman! How many times and in which positions?”

“ Atsumu! ” You laugh, aiming a swing in his direction. “Those details are mine and Suna’s alone-”

“Was it twice?” Atsumu starts. “Once at mine and then once when ya got home?”

“Definitely twice,” Osamu confirms before you can say anything. “The question is, what happened this morning ? The bedroom eyes at the door is makin’ me think it was three times, actually-”

“Samu-” You start.

“ Bedroom eyes ?!” Atsumu yells, scandalized. “Three times for sure, then! Maybe four?”

“No, not four!” You hold your hands out to stop him from going any further.

“So, three ,” Osamu says decidedly, smirking down at you.

“Definitely three ,” Atsumu nods, his face just the same. 

You realize your mistake and sigh, exhausted. When you glance up at Sakusa, he just sips at his latte with a blank face.

“A little of that help would be nice right about now,” You whisper to him. He just blinks back.

“I’d like to know more about these bedroom eyes you were giving him, actually.”

You throw your hands out in frustration while Atsumu laughs, Osamu offering Sakusa an elbow to bump in approval.

“Fine,” You say, giving in, and then give them all the answers at once. “Three – two last night and one this morning, after he almost burned the apartment down making breakfast,” You recount in almost detached detail, ignoring when Atsumu mumbles ‘ He made breakfast?’ incredulously. “Then he convinced me that it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to keep sleeping together. He dropped me off here-” You point at Osamu in warning. “-but I did not give him bedroom eyes.”

Your co-owner smiles back. “It was the look Atsumu gives Sakusa after they win a game.”

You grimace, unable to enjoy the lovely pink shade flooding Atsumu’s cheeks or the amused look of interest Sakusa gives him out of the corner of his eye, because you know exactly which look Osamu’s talking about, and it’s horrifically obvious.

“That’s embarrassing,” You say plainly.

“Hey!” Atsumu protests loudly. 

Sakusa just smiles and sips at his drink again. 

“Man,” Osamu says, shaking his head as the thinks. “Three times in under twelve hours is crazy,” He laughs. “You guys were really making up for lost time, huh?”

You flush, remembering that Suna had said the same just before pulling you into Atsumu’s spare room. You’d taken it as him offering a reason to whisk you away from that group of guys, but, now that Osamu’s mentioning it, too-

“What do you mean, lost time?” You ask, eyeing him. He looks at you like you’re insane.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” When you just stare up at him, he balks. “You guys have been all over each other since college.”

“What?!” You laugh. “No, we haven’t-”

“Oh, yes, you have,” Atsumu says, just as bewildered. “I couldn’t get a second alone with ya half the time!”

“That’s not the same!” You argue. “It wasn’t like this back then – I didn’t even know he liked girls like me until last night!” 

“You didn’t ?” The twins say simultaneously. Sakusa joins you in eyeing them in concern.

“I don’t like when they do that,” He says, and you nod.

“Agreed.”

Osamu laughs in disbelief. “Y/n, Suna doesn’t look up from his phone unless there’s a thick girl in the room. You can’t have missed that.”

You think hard about that. Had you ever seen that? You don’t think that’s ever happened.

Then you remember last night, the way he’d only managed about ten minutes of conversation with Bokuto before pulling his phone out to doom scroll. You remember how he’d ignored everyone after that, how guilty you’d felt making him wait for you while you’d tried to meet a guy. 

Is he always like that?

“I never noticed that…” You say, thinking. Atsumu hums.

“Yeah. I wonder why,” He says, smiling like he knows exactly why. You flush, catching his meaning.

“I don’t think I was up for consideration until last night,” You argue weakly. He just shrugs.

“Maybe not consciously,” He offers. “But he sure was quick t’ take over when things weren’t workin’ with that other guy.”

He was, you realize. He was quick to take over.

You truly believe Suna had never looked twice at you until last night. But that only makes your nerves tingle with extra strength when you think about how quickly he’d stepped in in Atsumu’s kitchen. How little time it had taken for things to change between you.

You swallow, suddenly warm. “You don’t think,” You start, fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie. “You don’t think we look a little silly together? Me and him?”

You’d tried so hard to let Suna’s reassurances be enough – you want so badly to just believe him and everything he says to you – but when he’s not here, your anxiety comes back. When he’s not here to distract you, to remind you, to tell you what’s on his mind and exactly what he thinks, it’s easy to fall back in on yourself. To remember what you look like on the outside, what people probably think when they see you next to him.

You had never been self-conscious about standing next to Suna Rintarou before, because there had been nothing between you before. 

Now, you wonder if girls will approach him even with you there, because you’re not a threat to them. 

“Oy,” Atsumu’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you find him snapping his fingers annoyingly in your face. You realize Sakusa’s got two knuckles on your elbow, tapping lightly. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, blinking up at Atsumu. “What?”

“I said ,” He rolls his eyes. “Yer outta yer mind if you think that.”

“You guys look good together,” Osamu says, nodding. “I’ve always thought so, even in high school.”

“Huh?” You laugh. “In high school?”

He just shrugs. “Even as friends, you look good. You were always a little innocent and sweet, and he was always rude as fuck. I had fun just watching you guys.”

Atsumu sighs heatedly but nods. “Yeah… Even though I was always mad he was takin’ you away from me, you guys were fun together. You were always shy, but not with him. You liked yellin’ at him.” He rolls his eyes. “Still mad about it, though.” 

You laugh, watching Sakusa nudge him with a fond look in his eye. You turn to the man, the only one here that hadn’t known you or Suna before Osaka.

“What about you, Kiyoomi? If you saw me and Suna in the street, would you do a double-take?”

He blinks, sipping while he finds his words. “I think a lot of other people will, but you shouldn’t pay them any attention. People will assume things about you two, because that’s what people do.” 

He meets your eyes. “But I would only look twice at you because Rintarou looks different when he’s around you. Less bored and unapproachable. And I think that’s kind of obvious, even to someone who doesn’t know him.”

You stare up at him, processing that. That a stranger might give the two of you attention not because of you, but because of Suna. That he might be different enough around you that a stranger would be able to see it.

You hadn’t noticed that, either.

What else hadn’t you noticed?

“Oh,” You say dumbly.

Osamu snickers. “Don’t think too hard with him. Suna’s a simple man, you know that.”

“Yeah,” You mumble, smiling to yourself when you remember how he’d refused to make things complicated this morning. “I guess he is.”

Atsumu’s watch beeps, and he jumps when he looks down at it. “Aw, shit! We’re gonna be late, Omi!” He latches onto Sakusa’s jacket and tugs him from the room, shouting back that ‘ this ain’t over!’ while Sakusa waves blankly back at you and Osamu.

You sigh, reaching for your purse where you’d left it on a box of coffee beans when you’d come it. “I better find something to cover this up,” You say, gesturing to your neck. 

Osamu laughs, heading for the door. “Or don’t. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing it after a hard day at work.” 

You flush, staring down into your purse while Osamu leaves you to mull that over.

Working in your office today wouldn’t be so awful. 

–

Around lunch, you get a text from him. 

You’d managed to set most thoughts of him aside in order to take care of your daily administrative tasks, but you hadn’t been able to clear him out of your head entirely. In the middle of writing a promotional email, you remember how he’d said your name in your ear, and you’re stuck staring down at your keyboard in a daze until the nerves settle. And then again, when you’re taking weekly inventory in the storage room, your cheeks tingle with the memory of him grabbing them to shut you up, again and again. You have to clutch your clipboard to your chest then, ears ringing and face warm. 

And now, after a productive hour of pretending Suna Rintarou hasn’t bled into every thought that crosses your mind, your phone buzzes on your desk. You don’t stop to wonder if it might be him, too concentrated on cross-checking your bank account with your ledger to remember that the person who texts you most often at this time is him.

Your eyes flick to the screen, and your pen falls from your fingers entirely on its own.

[1:07 PM]

Sunarin : i wouldnt be mad if you suddenly appeared in my shop in the next 30 minutes

You swallow, nerves buzzing in your veins as you lean back in your chair. 

Be normal , you think. This could mean anything.

You : you just want food.

He responds immediately, like he always does, but it makes your fingers numb to think he’d been waiting for your text. 

Sunarin : it’s the delivery girl more than the delivery that im interested in

Your stomach flips, and an Uber is called before you can really think twice about it. Osamu says nothing when you leave with red ears and your head bent, but you hear Haru and Mayuri giggling together as the door jingles closed behind you. 

You : well you be sure to tell them that

You : they might give you a discount

Sunarin : now why in the world would i want a discount, y/n?

You ride all the way to the onigiri restaurant down the street from his shop with your face in your hands, another text waiting for you while you order. 

[1:22 PM]

Sunarin : this would be a terrible time to find out you’ve been crushed under a really heavy box of coffee beans…

You laugh to yourself, running a hand down your face and feeling a bit delirious. This is all so new and weird, but the swoop in your stomach and the antsy tap of your foot on the floor while you wait for lunch is taking over all sense of reason. 

You type out a response without thinking.

You : your delivery girl expects to be tipped well

And then you press a hand to your forehead, realizing how badly that had come out only after sending it.

Suna’s response is laced with amusement.

Sunarin : oh????????????????

Sunarin : okay??????????????????

Sunarin : i can certainly do that????

You : shut up

You : you shut up, suna rintarou

You : that was an accident

Sunarin : it sure as shit didnt read like one

You : im eating all of this food and leaving you to starve

Sunarin : wait no im actually hungry bro

You : do not BRO me after that, you insufferable idiot

Sunarin : you did that all on your own

You laugh in half-exasperation as you carry the takeout bag up the road and to his shop. When the door jingles, you barely have time to greet his long-time assistant, Suki, before the door to Suna’s office is being wrenched open. He pokes his head out, eyes finding yours.

You try to push down the rush of nerves that fill you when he smiles lazily at you. 

“I see lunch is still uneaten.” 

“Pending review,” You say, smiling at the receptionist. “Hey, Suki.”

“Hey, girl,” She says, spinning in her chair to beam up at you. When her eyes find your hickey, a smirk pulls at her lips. “Good night?”

Your ears warm, but before you can mumble a response, Suna calls out from across the room.

“I’d say it was more than good, but maybe that’s just my ego talking.”

Suki’s eyes bug out of her head, and she’s laughing behind her hand while you stomp across the shop to his office, ignoring the amused glances from his artists.

“Suna, you complete-”

“Yeah, yeah,” He cuts you off, ushering you into the room. “I’m an idiot and you want to kill me.”

You roll your eyes, pushing past him, but you barely have time to set the takeout bag on his desk before you’re being dragged around and pinned to the now-closed door.

“ Hi ,” He breathes, leaning down and pushing his mouth to yours without waiting for a response.

You shiver against him, mumbling into his kiss. “You got a thing for doors or something?”

 He ignores you, clearly preoccupied. “Got plans tonight?” 

Your head spins, but you manage to answer him while kissing him back. “No, why?”

“Good,” He smiles against you. “Can I come over?”

Your stomach flips excitedly. “I guess I can pencil you in.”

“Oh, you guess?” He cards his fingers through your hair, pulling you close. “Thought you just said you didn’t have plans.” 

You shrug, lifting up on your tiptoes to push your lips against his. “Maybe I had plans to sleep. I’m mysteriously exhausted today.”

“I like sleeping,” He says easily, angling your head to kiss you more easily. “I sleep all the time. I’d make a great sleeping buddy.”

Your fingers tremble where they cling to his shirt. “You applying for the position?”

“Yes,” He nods, arm tight around your waist. “Is there an interview process? When can I expect to hear back?”

“You’re so stupid,” You break, laughing as you pull away. “So, so stupid.”

He just smiles and steadies you on your feet before dropping his hands from your waist, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. “So, how was Miya?”

You snort, leaning against the door while he moves to unpack your lunch. “Which one?”

“Oof,” He says, throwing you a sympathetic glance. “That’s brutal.”

“Sakusa told me he was there to help, and then he proceeded to not help .” You smile, following him to a little couch in the corner.

When you take a seat, Suna scoots close, closer than he’s ever sat before. He slides an arm around your waist and draws you in, passing you your food. Your nerves tingle when he presses a kiss to your temple and mumbles ‘ Thanks for lunch ’ before turning to unwrap his onigiri, and you squash it down, doing your best not to read into it. 

“Sakusa, too?” He smiles, taking a bite. “You had the whole council.”

“The twins bullied me into admitting we had sex three times,” You say, trying to fight the warmth in your face as you eat. “And Atsumu tried to extract all the positions out of me, but I have my limits.”

He chokes briefly before clearing his throat. “The positions -” He shakes his head, reaching for his phone. You watch as he pulls up a brand new text thread with Sakusa. The first message he ever sends to the man is-

[1:31 PM]

Suna Rintarou : 50 bucks for the last position you fucked miya in

Your jaw drops, and you can’t help the smack you land on his shoulder. “That’s hyper-private!”

His phone buzzes.

Sakusa Kiyoomi : make it 100 and ill tell you his favorites

Suna throws his head back, laughing, and you can only shake your head with a smile. “Boys are so strange.”

Another text notification lights up his screen only a second later.

Miya 1 : tell that little rat shes disowned

“Oops, I got you in trouble,” Suna says, clearly pleased with the outcome. 

You just roll your eyes, smiling when you imagine how Atsumu’s probably acting right now with Sakusa. “They’re good together, huh?”

“Oh, a hundred percent,” He says, replying to Atsumu quickly. “Sakusa’s the only one who can handle him.”

Your eyes flick away from his phone when he glances at you, because you just watched him type out the words ‘ thats my little rat youre talking about, fucker’ , and you’re not sure he wanted you to see that. 

You catch Atsumu’s immediate ‘ oh????? ’ just before Suna’s turning his phone off and tossing it on the table. There’s a piece of you that’s dying to know how that conversation will go later.

“What else happened?” He asks, as though he hadn’t just outright claimed you to your best friend.

“Uh,” You fumble, trying to remember the events of the morning. “Samu joked that we were making up for lost time, and Tsumu said we’ve been all over each other since college,” You try, watching him carefully for a response.

It’s the only reason you catch the slight tinge that warms his face before he’s turning to reach into the takeout bag for more food. 

“Mm,” He responds noncommittally, and you purse your lips to keep from smiling. 

“Mm? That’s it?” You tease. 

He passes you another rice ball, that tinge spreading gradually. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, is all.”

You lift a brow, surprised. “Oh, really?” You stare, holding your rice ball out in front of you with no sign of digging into it. Suna gives you a look out of the corner of his eye, one you can’t name. 

“I apparently had a bit of a staring habit in college.” He blinks a few times before looking away, busying himself with unwrapping his rice ball and then reaching for yours to do the same. He meets your eyes briefly while you watch him. “Yeah, like that,” He jokes, gesturing at how your eyes track his every movement.

Your head is empty of everything, every intelligent thought you’ve ever had long gone. “Staring at what?” You watch his mouth quirk up in a smirk that knows far too much as he’s turning away from you. “At me ?”

“I didn’t realize it, either,” He says easily, taking a bite of his rice ball. “But I distinctly remember being yelled at by a girl at a party that I spent an hour chatting up before completely abandoning when you got there.” 

You balk, remembering the exact moment he’s talking about. You’d thought that she had just misunderstood your relationship.

“But… why?”

He swallows, and you notice the color filling the tips of his ears. “I was, uh-” He clears his throat. You’ve never seen him so shy before. “-learning a lot about myself in college.” 

It feels like the world is dropping out from under you, and the weighted flick of Suna’s green eyes to yours is the only thing anchoring you to him. 

You’re not sure when you set the untouched onigiri down, but, while his gaze is flitting to the table before coming back to you, you’re reaching to ball up the front of his shirt and drag him to you.

When you kiss him, you realize you can feel his heart beating against your fist.

You make Suna Rintarou nervous.

Trying to recover – trying to steer clear of the reality that’s threatening to smack you in the face – you make a breathless argument, Suna’s lips warm on yours. 

“Just a general realization, though, right?” You try, feeling his teeth dig lightly into your bottom lip. “Not about me specifically?”

He pushes his tongue against yours, lunch abandoned while he threads his fingers into your hair carefully and angles your head. “ Sure ,” He breathes. “We can say that.”

“ Suna ,” You chastise, feeling your resolve starting to melt away when he slips past the edge of his hoodie and slides his palm against your skin, fingers hot.

Suna hadn’t looked twice at you until last night. You’re functioning under that assumption. You can’t risk believing otherwise, and it’s not fair for him to lead you to another conclusion if it’s not true.

If you allow yourself to believe otherwise, then you might just let it ruin your friendship.

It can’t be true.

“I told you last night,” He sighs into your mouth, and you feel it fill your lungs with something you have tried all day to ignore. “You look like-”

-one of my college fantasies .

Your stomach flips and your fingers go numb against his chest. 

He doesn’t mean what you think he means.

He can’t mean that.

Right?

“You… Uhm-” You swallow, feeling his mouth go still over yours. “You don’t mean that you would think about me when you…”

His breath is warm on your lips while he thinks of what to say.

“I didn’t want you to be upset,” He admits, his words a whisper against your skin. 

There’s no way.

A memory passes, one of him laughing into your chest last night, complaining that he would only last five minutes, a giddy kind of excitement passing between you. How he’d jokingly offered to let you stay the night all week, his smile bordering on something real.

“I felt so bad for thinking of you like that.”

That excitement again this morning, when he’d whispered that he would undo everything and make it right, that he wants you to use him. How he’d pushed you up against the couch the moment you’d agreed to keep sleeping together.

You can only stare at his lips while he talks, eyes wide and heart pounding. 

How quick he’d been to find you at the party, how you’d been quietly pleased that he would have been that quick even if he hadn’t given you a second thought before.

But he had. He had given you a second thought.

“I’m sorry,” He tries, searching your face. “It was only a few times, and I tried so hard not to,” He’s whispering his apologies quickly, mistaking your silence for anger that he’d kept that from you, when really, you’re trying to remember how to use your mouth to say something entirely different. “I was so ashamed of being disrespectful, and I didn’t want you to hate me,” He swallows, your empty stare heavy between you. 

God, you wish so badly that you could go back in time and notice all the things you’re only noticing now. All the times he’d looked at you differently or maybe even considered making a move. 

You wish so badly that it hadn’t taken this long for things to change.

You really want to ruin this friendship. 

“But you were so pretty, even back then, and- the first time was an accident, I swear- you texted me while I was–” He flushes hard, and you almost feel the heat of it wash over you. “-and then all I could think about was your sweet little smile, and before I could stop it, I was-”

“Suna,” You breathe, cutting him off. Your heart is beating in your ears, and your skin burns where his hand sits on your waist. Your head is filled with a funny little buzzing, one that makes it impossible to think or see anything except for how he’s looking at you, his lip ring pulled nervously between his teeth. “You better be very careful.”

He blinks, brows furrowed as he stares down at you. 

Your heart is so loud in your ears.

“I might fall for you if you’re not, Rin.”

You feel when he stops breathing, his chest unmoving against your hand.

His eyes flick down to your lips, and you feel when the breath he’s holding leaves his lungs in a single, quick laugh. 

“Y/n-” 

There’s a knock at the door, one that shakes you enough to make you jump.

Suki peeks into the room, finding Suna half-draped over you, both of you red-faced and wide-eyed. She grins mischievously. 

“Your 2 o’clock’s here, Boss.”

You’re painfully aware in that moment of being in Suna’s place of business. 

You push him off of you, gathering the trash from your lunch quickly before rushing to the door. You laugh nervously at Suki as you go. 

“I should call an Uber, huh? I didn’t realize how much time had passed. I gotta get back to work.” You barely notice her knowing grin while you throw the trash out and make a beeline for the door. 

Suna catches up to you, following you out to the street after throwing a quick ‘ I’ll be back in just a second- ’ to his client.

“Y/n-” He pulls you back to him, breathless. “Man, you really love to run, don’t you?”

You laugh, feeling delirious as you rub at your brow. “Well, you just admitted that you used to jerk off while thinking of me in college, and then your assistant caught us in a compromising position, so-”

He laughs back, the tone of it matching how insane you feel. “Christ-”

He shakes his head before pulling you in the direction of his car where it’s parked on the street a few feet away. He fishes in his front pocket and then presses his key into your palm. “Take it. Don’t waste money on an Uber.”

You stare down at the key and then up at him. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll come get you later, then, if you still want to stay the night.” He blinks then, clearly surprised by that. “Okay.”

You stare a moment longer and then nod, turning toward his car and walking away. “Okay. See you.”

“Okay.”

You hear the door jingle when he heads inside.

You sit in his car for the ten minutes it takes your fingers to regain feeling. 

Your phone buzzes in the middle console, and, when you glance at it, your fingers go numb once more.

[2:13 PM]

Sunarin : i was being careful before

Sunarin : but now i dont want to

You let your forehead fall against the steering wheel, every nerve ending in your body malfunctioning.

“ Fuck ,” You whisper.

Fuck.

i SUCK at writing filler chapters oh but i wanted it to be slow burn didnt i? 🙄😔

Matthew talking about Reid.

Woo-Hoo! Go Reid! 🤓✊🏻

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

Spanish affectionate names (because we can do better than using “mi amor” a hundred times)

Author’s note: Spanish uses gendered nouns. Masculine nouns often end in -o (example: “guapo”) and feminine nouns often end in -a (example: “princesa”). There are also gender neutral names! I’ll list those too for my people that are non-binary! This list is not exhaustive, so feel free to reblog and add more! Also, some words may have different translations depending on the country!!!!!

For him (names to use towards someone who identifies as a man)

Guapo : handsome

Rey : king

Príncipe: prince

Chulo / Lindo : cute, cutie

Bichito : little bug (disclaimer: in Puerto Rico, “Bicho” means “d*ck, so “Bichito” would mean “little d*ck”. )

For her (names to use towards someone who identifies as a woman)

Princesa: Princess

Guapa : beautiful

Muñeca : doll

Reina : queen

For everyone (he/him, she/her, they/them)

Mi corazón : my heart

Mi alma : my soul

Mi vida : my life

Mi cielo : my sky/heaven

Mi tesoro : my treasure

Mi luz : my light

There are tons more out there. Do a quick search!

Happy writing!