Happier Than Ever

hell habitants

ex!Suna Rintarou x Reader

mt list

ITS MSBY NOT MYSB SORRY WAS VERY SLEEP DEPRIVED!

also i didn’t say this before but y/n has suna blocked everywhere, including roblox and spotify and GMAIL LMAOO

sakusa, suna, atsumu and osamu are roomates

suna used to hate tsukishima because of how close he was to yn

like he would get really jealous and insecure

like suna was sure tsukishima and yn were in love with each other and it was only a matter of time for them to realize it and for yn to leave him

i do not blame him, remember they even call each other platonic soulmates? well he thought the platonic part was temporary

suna and tsukishima are chill now, hes even yns only friend to follow suna on his priv

this is because ever since the break up tsukishima was the only one willing to hear suna out and turns out hes not as bad when youre not competing against him

but that doesn’t mean suna’s heart doesn’t sting a bit every time he hears the names y/n and tsukishima together

yn hates suna and suna hates yn but she was the love of his life

suna follows y/ns main acc in his priv (secretly y/n follows rins main acc on her priv as well)

if yall didnt notice suna has yns merch site on his priv:(

aren’t promises meant to be broken?

at 17 sirius promised to always be there for you whenever you need him. now 3 years after your break up, sirius has yet to break this promise.

tags: sirius black x f!reader,, magical nuisances,, exes to friends to lovers,, hurt and comfort,, fluff,, angst,, slytherins + pandora,, no voldy

a/n: took me an embarrassing amount of time to finish but i’m kinda soft for this fic ngl

people never stay friends with their exes. even with the promises of being one when breaking up. most find it, understandably, too awkward to continue any sort of relationship with them.

you would have been one of those people, at least you think so. but certain circumstances have deemed this preference a futile thought.

“i can’t believe you got me here to clean your bathroom.” sirius glared, peeling off the rubber gloves off his hands and slumping down on the breakfast nook.

“someone had to do it.” you shrugged, “it wouldn’t be the first time,” you smiled, vanishing the gloves and cleaning the table too. before placing a plate in front of him filled with sausages, toast and beans.

“that’s the fucked up part! it isn’t even my first time doing this.” he groans, grabbing a fork that you immediately slapped away.

“wash your hands first, you animal.”

he whines a protest but gets up anyway, rubbing his slapped hands as he does so—pouting because he’s dramatic like that.

“aren’t you going to eat with me?” he asks, his back turned to you as he washes his hands.

you were almost going to say yes, out of habit, having done so numerous times before. but remembered belatedly, the date set up by regulus with one of his work colleagues. a proper fit to you, he said. “no, i’m meeting somebody for dinner later.”

he closes the tap, turning to you again. “dinner? with who?”

you clicked your tongue at the dripping mess he’s making on the floor. grabbing paper towels and tossing it to him to wipe it himself. “some bloke from regulus’ work.”

“regulus? another date then?”

you nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the idea of talking about dates your ex’s brother set you up with.

he frowned. going back to the table and grabbing the fork to start eating the warm food. “i see,”

and that was, thankfully, the end of that.

you didn’t really want to delve into your dating life with anyone, much less your ex-boyfriend of all people—no matter how many times he cleans your bathroom. it was already morbidly pathetic, how your friends seem to think you needed help finding someone new and to move on with.

but in your defence, it is rather difficult finding someone who would be okay with your, er, arrangement with your ex.

it is all sirius’ fault, really, but what isn’t? accidentally making a magically-binding promise to you, seems just like the type of thing he would do. and he has.

ever since he made that promise at 17 when you’ve just started dating, sirius has been showing up in your life, ready to help you with anything you need. you thought of this is in a more figurative sense, but no. that was too simple.

instead, whenever you need something. maybe something as simple as scratching your back, to partaking in a monthly bathroom cleaning, sirius would just appear out of thin air into your house, or wherever you need him, and he would be required to do it else he wouldn’t be able to leave.

when you were dating, this was something you both enjoyed, sometimes even looked forward to. using it as an excuse to latch unto each other the whole day. but now, having been spilt for how many years now (3 but who’s counting?) you can imagine how this magic promise has become a nuisance in your everyday life.

you tried resisting it, of course. though the power of will and mental fortitude can only do so much when you can’t reach the top shelves of your kitchen. forget about avoiding your ex, when he can just pop in whenever, wherever, when you get so much as a paper cut. you can see how the novelty of the situation can run its course. so much so, you sort of just learn how to deal with it instead of fighting it.

you’ve learned to use this to your advantage, of course, making him do chores around the house, makes him a great house elf without the moral issues of owning one.

he was also quite reluctant, when you both broke up, but that was to be expected. he had tried moving away to france, thinking the distance might prevent him from showing up. but that only made it difficult to explain to the travel officers how he can exit the country without violating travel wizarding laws.

regardless of the reluctant acceptance of such peculiar arrangement, you still have that hope you can somehow reverse it.

this particular hope always trampled by your friends’ insistence to utilize your situation to your extreme satisfaction.

“i don’t understand why you would want to remove it, to be honest.” dorcas frowned flipping through the pages of magical vows and contracts, vol.2. “i mean if i had someone doing things for me all day long, i certainly wouldn’t complain.”

“are you joking? why would anyone want to stay bound to their ex?”

she looked over to you, tone playfully mocking, but mocking regardless. “you mean an ex who does everything you need him to?”

“well, how would you feel if lily was always around you doing stuff for you?”

“oh please, if lily was bound to me, cleaning my bathroom wouldn’t be the only thing she would be doing.”

you grimace, “spare me the details, i beg of you.”

“so you wouldn’t like it if you and sirius partook… in certain late night activities?” she hummed.

you sputter out scandalized gasps, face feeling gruesomely warm, “don’t be disgusting! i have no intentions of ever doing anything with him and i assume he share the sentiments, a-and it is appalling that you think so—!” you breathed in deep, willing your face to relax and to settle your wild heart. “i don’t need him to be anything other than a reluctant acquaintance.”

pandora laughs from the floor, “not even considering him as a friend? poor sirius.”

you huff, embarrassed and frankly a bit betrayed.

you friends have convinced themselves of sirius’ intentions to be more than what is required of him. pushing you of all people to act upon seducing him using your gods given womanly assets, as pandora had once labelled.

you abruptly stood up from the table, going over to the stove to reheat the water to make more tea. “besides, i am perfectly capable of handling things by myself, thank you very much.”

it’s dorcas who laughs this time, “what do you mean? just last week, he had to bandage your finger for you because you bit your cuticle to blood. you are entirely dependent on him at this point.”

you huff, “i am not. i am a woman capable of attending to my own needs. that was the bind’s requirements of it all, i have to let him do these things or the bond won’t ever let him leave, you know this already.” you groan, rolling your eyes. “my point still stands. i don’t need him, nor will i ever need him. i just want all of this out of my life and in the past, like it should have been.”

“doesn’t he have his own room in this house by now?”

“it’s not his room, it’s a guest room— that he frequently uses. there’s a difference.”

it was pandora munching on peanuts, wholly amused that responded next, “right,” she drawled, “and that’s why he has his clothes folded and tucked away in the closet.”

“oh piss off, the nuisance sometimes happens in the middle of the night. how could i let him go home so late? what kind of host would i be?”

“couldn’t he just go home straight after?” dorcas asks.

“is it a nuisance, still?” pandora asks.

you cross your arms, petulant, “he can, but he chooses not to. and yes, still.” you scoff, “i know you think something filthy is happening but i particularly don’t enjoy his impromptu trespasses, believe me.”

“i don’t know, you two seem to be getting along quite well.”

“me and that useless oaf? are you joking?”

pandora smiled sweetly, “hardly useless now, i hear.”

“and what did you hear?”

“takes care of you quite well, what with dinner invites with the potters and even travelling?”

you turned around, fiddling with the tea cups, hoping to hide your darkening flush. but you know it did nothing, judging by their giggles.

“travelling?” dorcas inquired, interest piqued.

you don’t see her but you can sense her teasing smile.

you have yet to share that tidbit of embarrassing info to her. mainly because you don’t know how to squeeze it in and you don’t know how to even begin.

you did go to the potters for one random dinner. the invite came after sirius had come and helped you arrange your home library. it was just a simple dinner. filled with other people, hardly anything scandalous.

the travelling together was accidental. you were off to travel with bloke #4, as graciously dubbed by sirius (someone regulus had set you up with at the time) off to a romantic getaway for the weekend to a hot spring up the mountains. only to get thirsty halfway through your trip and have sirius show up in your train compartment only in his boxers and fluffy bunny slippers.

there were no other stops in the train. anti apparition wards set up and the floo connection was severed in the hotel to promote exclusivity, sirius had to join in on the activities through his relentless insistence. he had ate and laughed obnoxiously loud - sitting dangerously close to you the entire trip. he had constantly went on a tangent, reminiscing about your past relationship ranging from random dates to the make out spots you’ve frequented together in hogwarts. safe to say that was the last time you’ve heard from bloke #4.

but you could hardly think to be upset about that. you quite… enjoyed yourself.

but you’ll be damned before you admit that to these two vultures.

taking a deep breath, “there was no dinner invites nor travelling. it was—“

“magical nuisance, yes, yes.” pandora waves off.

you roll your eyes again, grabbing the hot kettle to steep the tea. “stop trying to make things—ah! fuck, ow.” you hiss, holding your painfully warm, stinging fingers. you see the tiny boils already appearing on your skin, the piercing pain shooting through your fingers. you squeezed your hand, hoping to elevate some of the pain.

sirius made a quick move to grab your wrists to pull you to the sink. you didn’t even hear him arrive.

“what happened?” he asks, silver eyes looking at you in intense worry. softly holding your hand under the cold running water gliding down your hand. he was standing so close to you you could smell a tiny hint of his soap. you slowly start to relax.

that is before you catch dorcas’ glinting gaze and pandora’s knowing smile. both of which you vehemently ignore, as you stare at your red fingers and his much larger hand on yours.

“i burned my fingers on the kettle.”

“goodness love, you have to be more careful.”

“sorry.” you mumbled, but having no idea why you would even apologize in the first place. still, you feel the heat of your hand spread to your body.

dorcas, having stood up to help you sat back down again, “hello, sirius. right on time as always.” she called, a cetain lilt in her voice you nervously recognized.

“sirius black, what a coincidence.” pandora sing songs, no subtlety whatsoever.

oh, they are just the worst.

he regarded them both in an overly familiar smile (an ex shouldn’t give to his ex’s friends) and in a light teasing tone as he says “good evening, ladies. why do i get the feeling like you’ve been gossiping about me?”

“you might have been mentioned once or twice.” pandora shrugged.

sirius softly laughs, the sound barely heard over the sink, before he stares at your fingers again, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin. before looking at you with a teasing smirk to which you only roll your eyes at.

you see shuffling in your peripheral, meeting your friend’s eyes, you see them gesture to you and sirius. trying to wordlessly communicate to you with wide smiles. you imagine something akin to, see? what did we tell you? not useless right? nuisance my ass. look at you guys holding hands under the water.

as if just realizing it now, you pull your hand away from his grip in an embarrassed haste, as he slowly lets go with a small frown etched on his face.

drying his hands on the towel, as he leans down to unnecessarily whisper to you. “i’m going to get a burn salve, i’ll be quick.”

“it’s in the—“

“bathroom, yes, angel, i know. just wait for me.” he drawled, giving you a wry smile.

you stare at his retreating figure. you almost want to laugh at his serious reaction to a simple burn from a kettle. hardly calls for any salve. but you kept the comments in, for whatever reason. a fluffy, dangerous feeling erupting in your chest.

you hear dorcas whistle to get your attention, a smirk on her face, “angel?”

when the promise first happened, it was during graduation from hogwarts. absolutely gutted by the fact that your parents didn’t show. they’ve been vocal about their disappointment that you weren’t able to finish at the top of your class. but you had hoped they would still show. you were, after all, still their kid.

but there was noticeably empty seats in an area reserved for your family. so, naturally as any teenager, the next best thing you could do in the situation is cry alone in a bathroom.

though the lack of company didn’t last too long, because then your boyfriend appeared, looking to be in a middle of taking pictures if his big and goofy face is anything to go by.

he heard you, before he saw you. hearing your soft sniffles and the tiny hiccups from your mouth. at the time, you both didn’t question what had happen. why he was inside the girl’s bathroom, why is there a strange pull to follow your every whims. but he was suddenly there to comfort you, and make you smile again—who were you deny his services?

you both only managed to understand what was happening by the third time it happened. sirius suddenly appearing by your bedside, wet and covered in suds. he was in the middle of showering and you promptly freaked out, seeing large bits you weren’t ready to see yet.

but understanding why it was happening didn’t mean both of you would be prepared anytime it actually happened.

the bind didn’t pick and choose when, where, and why he would appear. there was an embarrassing moment when he showed up in the bathroom when you’ve ran out of tissue paper. also at your house during dinner when you needed salt, to which your parents justifiably freaked out at the sight of a boy, claiming to be your boyfriend.

this hasn’t changed years later.

now as you lie in your bed, feeling the scratchy feeling in your throat. you knew by the tingles in your arms. the thrumming static of your magic within you— letting you know of his arrival before you could even sit up.

there he was, your ex-boyfriend, like the days before. it was terribly late, and he was struggling to even stand straight as he yawns in the middle of your room, wearing a set of well-loved teddy bear pajamas.

“somethin’ wrong baby?” his voice deep, hoarse and low. something exciting spiking through your veins, making you more awake.

you knew, if he was more alert he wouldn’t have called you that.

you try not to think why you feel miffed by that fact.

“jus’ some water please.” you call softly from your bed.

he yawns again, rubbing his flat belly, “okay.” he breathes, walking in the darkness of your room with practiced ease.

you hear the small sounds of clanks in the kitchen, and the fridge being pulled open.

he knew you liked you water cold. he knew where your drinking glasses were. he knew where you keep the salves. he knew your apartment in the dark.

in the beginning, especially after your relationship ended, you associated this binding promise as an act of forceful requirement. at best, you see it as a favour you give to a stranger. but lately, especially in the quiet of your house, the pet names that keeps slipping out of his mouth as of late—you start to dangerously think of this as something else. as something more. as something painfully familiar.

he comes back quiet, siting on the bed near your thighs, as he hands you the cool, moist glass. his hair was tousled more than usual. there were sleeping marks on his face. he was probably already asleep before you needed him here.

you feel a little bit guilty, but you see his flushed cheeks through the soft glow of the moon outside your window, and the hooded gaze he desperately tries to keep open. you fight back a smile instead.

“is that all, baby?” his hand softly smoothing your hair at the back of your head. your room felt ridiculously warm.

“thank you.” you murmured before setting the glass on the bedside table.

he gives you one last sleepy smile, eyes closed and his hair toppling over his eyes. “okay, if that’s all—“

“are you going back?” you cut in, holding his wrist, your finger on his pulse. keeping him seated before he could even stand. before his warmth leaves your bed.

“i don’t have to..” he offers. like always, giving you the choice to draw the line.

you hesitate before you answer, letting go of his wrist, “it’s late..” and that’s all you say, and apparently that’s all he needs.

“is it alright then, if i stay the night? then i can leave in the morning?” he whispers back. his warm hand, touching your thigh over the covers. he felt so far away.

you don’t do this, not usually. but in the dark space of your room you feel more confident. more assured. braver.

you move slightly to the side, giving him space, “if you want.” conveniently forgetting the existence of the spare room. choosing to blame it on the lack of sleep.

he smiles, moving the covers. the short moment of exposure making you shiver in the cold. he notices, quickly sliding into bed with you. arms stiffly on his sides and yours crossed across your chest.

still not brave enough.

you feel him shuffle, laying on his side and facing you. his fingers just barely grazing your sides in a soft touch.

you fell asleep faster than any other night, hearing him breath near your ear.

you dream of a teary conversation from a time not so long ago, of desperate pleas not to leave you. and when you feel his arm curl around your waist. you dreaming of nothing for the rest of night.

the next morning, you woke up later than you would have, and see the too empty space next to you. the pang in your chest, grossly familiar.

it had been a month since the night he’s stayed with you. not a breath has been acknowledged about that night. choosing to ignore the lingering tension, the long stares and the awkward dispositions.

you don’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated.

of course, your friends had noticed this - because hadn’t they been analyzing each of your move when it comes to sirius black?

dorcas eventually had to force it out of you. to which pandora squealed and teased you in delight. insistent of the blooming change in your relationship.

“blooming change?” you repeated.

“what? it’s poetic!” she argues.

“it’s dumb,” regulus calls out. “y/n isn’t the kind to return to an ex, especially not to my dumb brother, right y/n?” he looks so earnestly confident. so much so that you couldn’t even lie to agree with him. truth be told, you have no idea if you were even the type to go back, regardless if it was reggie’s dumb brother or not.

because sirius has been your first boyfriend and if this bind continues on, he might be your last. you don’t know if that’s a good thing, all things considered.

everyone has turned to you now, in varying degrees of smugness, amusement, pride and playful pity.

dorcas laughs, saving you from answering. “i don’t know reggie, seems like y/n’s getting a little swayed.”

reggie reacts for you, as if offended. “she is not! she is actively going on dates and meeting new people.”

“oh?” dorcas smirked.

barty, sitting up straighter, “doesn’t he have a room here or something?”

you say, “no,“ “yes.” pandora quips, at the same time.

you rolled your eyes, “it’s a guest room—“

“one that conveniently went unused in one random night.” evan hummed, smirking, as he blew his smoke out the window.

pandora and dorcas ooh’ed.

“it was late! he was practically dragging himself from the floor, i couldn’t let him hurt himself after i interrupted his sleep, a-and he was already there, it’d be rude not to—i don’t even know why i’m explaining myself to you!— i don’t have to explain myself, because i did nothing wrong.” your met with four amused looks and one gut wrenchingly, disappointed one.

dorcas clicked her tongue, “i don’t know why you’re even fighting it at this point.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“i mean, you clearly want to be with him still.”

you sputter, sitting straighter, indignant as you say, “what gave you that idea?”

“the longing gaze.”

“acting all shy.” barty adds.

“the late night rendezvous,” evan hums.

“giving him his own room.” pandora pointedly looked at you.

“the inability to pursue any other relationship after him.” regulus tutted.

you gasp, betrayed. “even you reggie?”

regulus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and legs, “i am running out of eligible acquaintances to set you up with, you know.”

you don’t even know how to respond to that.

frankly you can’t. because you know they were right, and dammit if that didn’t hurt your pride just a little.

still, ridiculously hung up on an ex that didn’t even love you. a joke, really.

but you relish in the idea of sirius being near you. it sends a certain tingle down your spine just knowing he’ll arrive anytime, and be there for you. you like how he always stands so close to you even if he doesn’t have to. you like how you don’t have to tell him what he has to do before he does it. you like the pet names naturally slipping past his pretty mouth. how he’s always touching you in some way. how familiar it feels. the habits, the conversations, the feelings—how easy it all seems.

but it isn’t. you know it isn’t.

because you’ve tried and failed.

you fell for him, loved him the way you know how. leaving nothing for yourself as you give everything for him. loving him with no expectations for him to do the same. and so, he doesn’t.

he couldn’t love you back. at least not in the way you entirely feel for him.

he couldn’t look past his life and the experiences he’d endured just to reach that moment in the past. it wrecked you. you didn’t expect anything, but it still hurt when you got nothing for everything you had.

you don’t like the reminder, but you know you need it. you know how destroying it is to forget. you’ve tried being with him already and it didn’t work. you say this to them, whispered, as if ashamed.

you don’t even feel the tears sliding down your check as you say this.

dorcas’ smile dropped and pandora immediately sat down beside you.

“hey, you know it won’t be like that again.” pandora rubbing your shoulders.

“do i?” you rasped. “what’s so different about now than before? what’s to stop us from breaking up again?”

“it’s going to be different because you are different, and so is he.” dorcas said. “you were just teenagers, you barely knew yourselves back then. you weren’t ready for each other yet. he had issues to work out, and you had to grow up a little to understand that.”

you sniffled, “and you think we’re ready.”

“yes,” they all said.

dorcas reaching over and squeezing your hand, “i know you’re both ready.”

you shake your head, you don’t know if that’s true, “our forced proximity lasted longer than our actually relationship. and it’s only lasted this long because it’s just that—forced.”

pandora shook her head, dangling earrings clinking together. “that’s not true. it’s lasted this long because you wanted it to. you both wanted it to.”

evan nodded, smothering his cigarette butt and throwing it outside, “i, personally, wouldn’t want to spend any second with any of my exes, but you both didn’t even try finding any sort of solution to break the promise.”

barty gives you an awkward smile, as evan continues “if you had wanted to call it quits you would’ve found a way to end all of this the moment he had broken up with you. but you didn’t—“

“that’s because i couldn’t—“

“don’t lie,” regulus cut in, pouting, looking a bit like a petulant child. “we all know you could have found something in this ridiculously large library of yours.”

“why are you suddenly advocating for sirius and i to get back together again?”

regulus clicked his tongue, looking away. a slight flush on his cheeks. “i’m not advocating anything.” he huffs. “he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you. but if it’s sirius that ultimately makes you happy. then so be it.”

you swallow a lump, breathing a staggering breath, “i don’t know if he even—“

“he does.” regulus looking at you, eyes clear and sure. “he wouldn’t be so cross with me for setting you up with dates if he doesn’t.”

that same night, sirius, for once, was not summoned by you but of a call from regulus.

he already feels the natural flare of irritation, bracing himself for another round of teasing hums and provoking stories about how you’re on a date in an exclusive restaurant, with a bloke who’s ready to give you everything you need.

standing up from james’ couch, going to the kitchen to block the noise from the muggle telley, as remus called it. then accepting the call,

“i swear if you’re calling just to gloat about another conquest you’ve put her through then—“

“she needs you.” regulus slurred.

feeling an immediate spike in his heartbeat. already grabbing his jacket and hurrying to the front door to leave.

“we’re in a pub, bring your motorbike or something, she can’t apparate right now, too drunk.”

“i’ll be there in 10.” grabbing remus’ keys off a bowl in the entrance.

“oi, where the hell are you taking my car?” remus shrieked from the couch.

without looking back, “she needs me.”

peter whines from the living room, “but the game-!”

and he only slams the door close as a response.

“we’re in the east village, near a fountain.” regulus sluggishly explained before hanging up.

sirius wasn’t the best driver. in hindsight, he probably should have asked remus to drive him to you. but this was about you. he could hardly think about anything else when it comes to you. he would do anything for you, binding promise or not.

he found it particularly odd and extremely worrying, why you’re drinking on a thursday night. he knew you couldn’t handle your alcohol well, always ending up drinking too much and passing out.

considering regulus had to call him to come get you didn’t help his nerves as he drove faster than the limit allowed.

when he arrived expecting the worse, he found himself smiling at the sight of you.

you were laying your head on regulus lap as you both sat on the bench. he can hear barty and pandora trying to lift each other. dorcas and evan cheering them on.

but all he can see is you laying there. eyes closed and cheeks darkly flushed, dress splaying over your thighs. regulus smoothing your hair, lulling you to sleep. when he met his brother’s eyes. the younger black rolled his eyes and beckoned him over.

“took you long enough.” regulus grumbled, now sounding sober than when he called.

“is she okay?” sirius asks, crouching down and staring at your sleeping face for any signs of discomfort or pain.

regulus sighs, “just got a bit carried away, this one. she was… upset tonight so we let her have her fun an—“

“upset?” sirius cuts, couldn’t help the finger tracing your cheek and jaw. your nose twitching at his action. “why was she upset?”

regulus waves his hand, making vague gestures but offering no explanation. sirius frowns.

“i can take her home,” standing up, now as he calls out to the others. “does anybody else need a ride?”

all four heads, shook their heads and offered varying words of thanks. “you reggie?”

“don’t bother, i’m perfectly capable.” he tuts. “be careful of that metal beast.”

with slow movements, sirius slides his arms under your neck and the back of your thighs. making sure your dress stay tucked and you comfortably napping before lifting you up.

once lifted, your head turns to the crevice of his neck, burying your nose and breathing in deep. wrapping your own arms around his neck with practiced ease and familiarity.

his heart thrumming and slowing all the same. he likes you like this, so close to him and looking so content as you do now.

nodding his goodbyes to the others, as he walks to the car again. opening the car door proved to be a challenge what with an armful of you. but he managed to do so without jostling you too much. he didn’t want to wake you, but such actions proved to be futile as the moment you were placed in the passenger seat, you froze awake.

he tries to appease you with a gentle smile, brushing your hair behind your ear. “hi love, i’m getting you home today, is that alright?”

“siri?” you rasp, looking at him like he wasn’t real. his chest pounding as he sees your eyes glossing and shining with unshed tears. he immediately crouch down in front of you, grabbing of your hands, and peppering soft kisses on your knuckles.

“what is it, my love, why are you crying?”

“you’re here?”

he nodded, kissing your knuckles again. “i’m here.”

you said nothing, just staring at him. looking so lost and tearful. he feels a little guilty thinking you to be heart-clenchingly adorable, right now. looking so soft and precious, the urge to stay the night in the parking lot and just stare at you was strong but he knows he has to take you home, else you get sick.

he thought you were to say nothing else. so, he stood to close the door and head to the driver’s seat but you whined. tugging at his hand still in your clasp and pull him to you. tucking his head into your neck and burying your hand in his hair.

this is entering dangerous territories now, he thinks. one he very much like to continue venturing but he knows you weren’t sound of mind right now. so he refrains from touching you anymore than he has. his hands desperately clutching to the cold, hard car, substituting for your soft, pretty skin.

you whine, “don’t go.”

“‘m not going anywhere, baby. i’m just going to the seat next to you.” he mumbled, his lips agonizingly grazing your skin, he ignores the way your body shivers and the filthy thoughts that come with it. his hands gripping the car tighter.

“next to me?”

“yes, next to you.”

you eventually let him go, but not without constant coaxing.

he drives, slow and steady. avoiding potholes and uneven roads. you fell asleep again, from the slow, quiet drive and the soft, mellow music coming from the radio.

then sooner than he had liked, he parks in front of your house. he kills the engine and he whispers his calls to you. not sure whether he wants you awake to be feeling okay enough to walk or asleep so he can touch you again.

he moves when you stay quiet, doing everything he can to keep you from waking up. letting out a soft hiss each time a creak or a thump echoes in your quiet house.

when he finally, finally reaches your bedroom and lays you there, he’s quick to take off your shoes. then the realization of his next move taunts him. although, you looked very pretty with your dress, he doesn’t know if he should change your clothes into something more comfortable for you.

he knew an intense hungover when he sees one. getting up to change clothes isn’t pleasant with a raging headache. he stares at your laying figure. the thin strap of your dress slipped down, and your legs looking longer than he remembers.

he looks away before he sees anymore. it didn’t feel right, looking at you that way. especially whilst unconscious.

he open your dresser, knowing the drawer you keep your pajamas.

he sees a familiar, more faded than he remembers, shirt he always wore. the thought of you wearing his clothes makes him too happy and giddy for an adult man.

he fights his heart from beating too loudly. afraid you’ll hear. bites his lips to stop his giddy grin, and forces his eyes to focus on his search. but eventually did land on his old shirt and some long bottoms so you’d be warm.

he slid the bottoms first. careful not to touch your skin but very much feeling the heat of your thigh. he held his breath as he reached the curve of your bum. stopping and not knowing what to do next. with one arm he lifts you slightly off the bed. and with his eyes clenched tight, fast and frantic hands—holding his breath as he went to pull it up.

next was his your shirt. he had you sit up, head laying heavy on his shoulders. softly pulling back from you to slip the shirt over your head before letting you lean into him again. guiding your arms and pulling the soft tee down.

with a bated breath, he feels for the zipper at the back of your dress.

fingers touching and sliding over your back. the touch leaving a lingering static in his fingers. when he clutched the thin tiny thing, he slide it down. slowly, careful not to pinch your skin.

he hears you sigh from relief, letting himself smile, knowing he did a good job.

he lets you lay back down, properly this time, slip off your dress, cleans your face with a warm wet face towel.

he knows he should go. he knows to let you get your rest and sleep. knows he should return remus’ car. knows the lads are probably waiting for him. but there is no urge to leave. instead he stares at your clean bare face, the soft lines and pretty marks on your face just adds more to your allure.

he didn’t know how long he stared at you. it could’ve been a minute to a full hour, too busy studying your face, seeing all the new marks and the familiar ones, committing them to memory.

he was about to leave, lest he bothers you and wake you up. but you stirred.

stretching as you did so. and blearily stared at him. expectant and quiet.

your voice hoarse but genuine all the same. “it’s late..” he knew what you mean. the unspoken invitation, just like last time.

and he wants to—god he wants to.

“i can’t baby,” you were drunk, he wasn’t. it wouldn’t be fair.

“you’re leaving again?”

that did him in, slumping down on the bed. rubbing your outer thigh through your covers. “i’ll stay then, just rest.”

“but you’ll just leave me like last time.” you mumbled.

he gives you a lopsided smile, apologetic and painfully endeared all the same, “i had to, my love, i had work.”

“no,” you breathed, softly shaking your head, letting out a staggering breath like you were going to cry. “i meant the first time.” you whispered.

it was shameful the way he slowly realized what you had meant. you didn’t sound angry or bitter. or even resentful even if you had all the rights to.

he didn’t respond. letting your words stew in his mind. the quiet in the entire house emphasized by the ringing in his ears. he didn’t know what to say.

what words you were waiting for him to say. what words he can say to make it all better.

he didn’t even know you still think about that. still thinking about your relationship, and what had happened, and why it ended the way it did.

still thinking about it like him, who sometimes find it difficult to sleep thinking about you and the pain he caused you. the regret heavy in his veins like lead.

he should apologize, probably beg or grovel about the way it ended.

he was about to.

but he hears your soft breathing again. the stillness in your body, only sleep can make that he realizes he’s lost his chance.

again.

he rubbed your thighs, still. hoping to lull you into a deeper sleep. he grabbed a glass of cold water and put a statis charm so it would stay cool. he petted your hair, and caressed your cheek. it was painful, and he struggled. but he eventually left. feeling the same amount of fulfilled and disappointment altogether.

it was the next morning where sirius was beckoned again, this time not by a call from his baby brother but by the usual pull of your magic. he had expected as much, even fixed up his hair and wore fresh clean clothes and even put on perfume.

he did it whenever he could. in case you were to need him.

he even has a couple of hungover potion in his pocket just in case.

when he got summoned, popping into your familiar bedroom like the nights and mornings before. he was greeted with you still buried under the covers, eyebrows scrunched and eyes already open. you looked like you’ve been awake for some time now, but still refused to move.

you looked so tired and groggy and so soft and warm and homely and pretty.

someone with a hungover shouldn’t look as good as you did. but you are. he ignores the flutters in his stomach, tightening into a coil and puts on an easy smile.

“good morning dizzy girl.” he sing songs. plopping down on your bed, making sure to bounce you a little as he did.

you groan some more, turning away from him, holding your head.

he softly laughs. reaching over to smooth out your hair, “did you drink water?”

“hn.”

he took that as a no.

“up you go, c’mon. drink, you’ll feel better.” he grabs the glass. still filled full and cool like last night.

sliding his rough hands under your neck and the other to your back. slowly sitting you up so you can drink. you give little to no protest at all at his touch and considers this a win. his lips feeling a little wobbly as he fights a smile.

you took a small sip and then a larger gulp, sighing after finishing the whole glass.

“i also have a hangover potion and a headache one that lily made, so you know it’s good—“

“you left again.” you rasped, a small frown on your pretty face, still turned away from him.

he stops.

it suddenly dawns on him how you’ve yet to look at him, or greet him like you do when he always appears. he chalked it up to you being hungover or the highly probable headache you must have. not sulking, or possible moping over the fact that he hadn’t waited for you until morning.

he feels his heart take up larger room than normal in his chest. the loud thrumming under his veins as his magic comes to life, the burning desire of it all, the ringing in his ears, his pulse loud and the heat coming to his face.

you weren’t playing fair.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, scooting near you. reaching out to wrap his arms around your shoulders, then lightly tugging you to him, to lean on him like you did the night before. it was through his absolute delight that you let him.

giving him the courage to continue his ministrations.

“you said you’d stay.” you softly whined, voice muffled by his neck. your hands gripping his shirt.

so unfair.

he’s fully hugging you now. he tries to fight the sigh that threatens to come out of his mouth from having you in his arms again.

he hadn’t expected for you to remember last night, what with constantly falling asleep. he should’ve prepared for it though.

“i’m sorry.” he repeats. this more graver than the last. this apology carrying more weight and more reason, when he remembers your last question.

“you always leave.” he feels something wet touch his neck. his hearts clench, the image of your tears too clear for him. “always leaving me.”

he tries to lean back to get a good look on you but once you felt him move away, you tightened your grip. now wrapping your own arms around his waist. sirius doesn’t know how to feel. suddenly wrapped in your warmness and the familiar feeling and the guilt that you’re crying over him.

again.

causing you pain, again.

“i know, i’m sorry.” he hates that it’s all he can say. hates he can’t say anything else.

so you ask, “why?”

why?

he knows what you’re asking isn’t about why he’s sorry for leaving. he knows you’re asking something else. one withheld from you from the very beginning.

why do keep calling me nicknames?

why do keep touching me?

why do i feel this way?

why can’t you stay?

why did you leave?

why didn’t you love me back?

there’s a lot of answers he’s withheld from you but he starts from the one heavy on his mind.

he suddenly wonders if you’ve been left wondering too.

if it keeps you up at night, and having no one to answer it. if it eats you up and if you regret being with him, the same way he regrets ever leaving you.

“i didn’t think that— you would want me to stay, after what i did. i didn’t dare myself to even think you could still want me— or even be around my presence at all.” he says this quiet and so close to your ear.

you let him go now, leaning against the bed post instead.

sirius instantly wishing for you to come back into his arms again, but he refrains.

“you thought i didn’t want you?”

“who would?” he laughs, albeit a bit self-deprecating but hoping you’ll take it as a joke. you only frown. “sirius, of course i would still want you. you’re the best thing that happened to me.” your eyes looked so clear then, so sure.

so sure it burns him.

“but i hurt you. i caused you pain, i’ve disappointed you again and again—“

“you didn’t disappoint me.” you grab his hands, your touch still so soft like he remembers it. “i was hurt, yes, but that wasn’t your fault. it was my own fault for giving you more than what you were comfortable with.”

he shook his head, frowning hard. “don’t do that.”

“what?”

“be understanding,” he laughs, incredulous. “taking responsibility for me being a shitty boyfriend to you for being a complete arse to you.”

“you did what you could. what with everything you went through?”

he turns away, but you grab his face with your other hand, and tilts his chin up.

“all the things you’ve had to endure? i know you try to hide your struggles with it all. but i see you. i see all the things, all the extra steps you have to take to become better than what your parents set you out for. and now look at you, making it out on your own. making new friends, no trace of the anger and bitterness they tried so hard to embed in you. i loved you for it all, and i understood why you couldn’t, even if it hurt. because that’s how people love. you love someone even if they have all the capabilities to hurt you more than anything in the world— and i have loved you for so long. and i might’ve not understood this when we were younger, but i do now. i wasn’t asking for apologies because i’ve long forgiven you for everything in the past. but i wanted to know what it is you felt. why you felt the need to hide the reasons from me.”

he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

you let his face go. but he grabs it. incasing your hand in his.

mind sticking to one thing he feared.

loved?

has he lost his chance again?

have you deemed him unnecessary?

“you don’t—?” he sighs, stopping himself, that wasn’t important right now. especially not if you were looking at him, looking so patient.

he started slow, contemplative if he can articulate it well enough for you to understand. “i didn’t think i could ever be capable of love, or be anyone you could ever want and need. because you’re amazing. when you said you loved me for the first time, i thought i was dooming you. my family. my circumstances. i thought i was going to ruin you and i couldn’t live with the thought of doing that to you. so i thought that leaving would be for the best. i tried to leave. tried and convinced myself it was for you. that i had to let you go for you. but i couldn’t do it. selfish as it is, i couldn’t let you go.

“i even found a way to stop the bind, but thinking that my last connection with you would be gone, and you would forget about me—have a life without me there, i couldn’t. because, because i love you. i have loved you from the moment you smiled at me. it terrified me, how much i love you and how much i was willing to do anything for you. i love you more than i could ever understand and i’m sorry if i couldn’t say it that time, i’m sorry if this is a bit late, but i love being needed by you. i love being around you. i-i need you, more than you could ever need me.”

he didn’t notice the tears spilling to his cheeks before you wiped it away for him.

your eyes looking so soft.

“you love me?” you breathed.

as if it was unbelievable.

as if it wasn’t possible.

sirius hates himself a little more at the thought he might have caused some insecurity for you.

because it was ridiculous.

“i love you.” and like a broken record, he repeats it. again and again and again. much firmer than the last.

and you smile, so big and beautiful. and your eyes shining and so pretty. it was like the sun was shining so much brighter that day. like the clouds were opening up in the sky and bathing you in a golden glow.

he repeats it again, because he’s spent so many years holding himself back. and if your reaction is the same every time he says it then he’ll say it everyday. with every sentence, with every greeting, with every meal you cook for him. with every night he picks you up from a pub absolutely sloshed. with every irritating conversation he has with his baby brother. with every teasing quips from the lads. with every secret smile you give him. every time he touches you, every time he looks at you. because gods, don’t you look absolutely magnificent and unbelievable right now.

“i love you,” he repeats.

“i love you too.” you laugh. like your smile was getting too wide and too happy that you had to laugh.

and his heart soars. couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, as he leans in and captures your lips like he’s done so many times before.

thinking himself a proper idiot if he ever thought he could ever live without touching your lips ever again.

he touches your face like he did the night before. he grabs your waist like he always does. and he tilts your heads like a time before. he tastes a salty thing as your tears slides near his lips and he relishes in its taste.

he feels the warmth spreading to his entire face and body. feels the humming of his magic intertwining with yours. your soft mouth moving against him. and the stretch of your lips, smiling into the kiss.

he pulls away even if he didn’t want to.

“i love you,” he says again, and you smile at him so sweetly.

he repeats it because of your pretty smile.

and again. because he can.

which could mean absolutely nothing…

hey so that girl who said we should be locked up while ovulating WAS RIGHT OH MY GOD IM GOING FERAL OVER MGG AND OIKAWA AND CARDAN 😭😭

Clingy

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (BAU!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WC: 3.7k

Summary: You tended to be very expressive with your friends when showing your affection. Whether it showed in pet names or physical touch. Only thing is, Spencer thinks he’s falling in love with you, and all of your sweet affectionate actions are starting to take a toll on his unrequited heart. At least, he thinks it’s unrequited. 

Tags: there’s a tiny bit of miscommunication but not too much that it will make your head explode like it does mine. Make out but nothing grown/spicy. Friends to lovers. A bit of hurt/comfort

A/N: Not beta read don’t kill me! yoooo spence is so in denial about her feelings in this but lol so real king. This is mostly from his POV but I had to cheat a few times. Hope i can live up to the hype that complimentary colors was. I low key don't like this one as much but had to execute it cause the idea was cute.

You were starting to drive him insane. Criminally insane. You could invade his thoughts at any waking moment of his day and take over his mind. Every affectionate pet name, every soft fleeting touch, hell every time you look at him, he would replay the moment in his mind like a broken record. If he was in a crowded room, his eyes would always fall on you. 

After being with the BAU for a while you became good friends with your coworkers. And with that, came your habit of calling your friends sweet nicknames. Anything from sweetie, to honey, to babes, and the one that broke his heart the most, my love. 

At first he didn’t understand why you were using terms of endearment that were typically used in a romantic relationship, but in a platonic way. At some point he caught on that you were similar to Garcia when it came to expressing your love for friends. Similar to her and the way she has her own sweet silly way of expressing how she cares.

Nevertheless, some small part of his heart still broke when you called him those names. He adored your sweet caring nature and the fact that you cared enough about him to call him terms of endearment. But every time a nickname fell from your lips, he was reminded you only meant it platonically. 

It was his own personal torture to constantly be reminded he would never be your sweetie, your honey … your love. But the nicknames weren’t enough to drive him insane. While it drove him to the brink of insanity, he was able to keep his head somewhat still on his shoulders. 

Not long after the heart warming but crushing nicknames, you showed your true love language. Physical touch. It showed in many forms. It could show when poking JJ in the shoulder and giving Emily a high five. Or nudging Morgan in his side with your elbow. You even managed to get a fist pump from Hotch and Rossi. And of course the welcome and goodbye hugs from Penelope. 

You were a bit hesitant at first to express this love language of yours with Spencer due to his aversion to touch and germs. However, you observed that he would gratefully receive occasional touches. Whether it be a hug, high-five, or even the rare ruffle of his hair -which of course would be from Morgan. So you approached him and asked if he was comfortable with physical contact. 

When it came to you, he was more than comfortable. You could take him in your arms and he would simply melt into a puddle on the floor. Except he didn’t say that and his reply was closer to a mix of stuttering and rambling about how you could never make him uncomfortable and how he just doesn’t like germs. 

Now he’s not saying he regrets his choices. He wouldn’t ever take it back. He enjoys every single lingering touch between the two of you. Actually “enjoys” would be a severe understatement. Every single time you ruffle his hair, lean your head on his shoulder, or even just carefully touch his arm, it was as if a thousand volts of electricity were flowing through him. Like he could light up the city even. You were the best part of his days and the reason breath filled his lungs. You brought a light into his life that made him feel safe and warm. 

He desperately wanted your affection, your attention, your touch, to mean something more than he knew it to be. But sooner or later, touch after touch, he started to go insane. Somewhere along the way he had daydreamed so deep he had lost his mind. 

You had officially driven Spencer Reid insane. 

He was promptly whisked away from his thoughts when he felt the tap of a folder on his shoulder and a light thump on his desk. 

“Hotch wants to know your thoughts on the consultation from Colorado,” you started. 

He blinked back into focus glancing at the papers on his desk. 

“Hey, you alright?” You asked with concern. “You look like your head is in the clouds.”

“I’m fine, just lost in thought,” he answered with a small smile reassuring you.

“Don’t get too lost. Can’t have your genius brain short circuiting on us.” You chuckled as you took a small step closer to him and playfully ruffled his hair. 

“I’ll try not to,” he grinned and pushed his hair back after you messed with it. 

“Well I’ll be back soon, my love. Gotta go bother Penelope,” you joked before making your way out of the bullpen. 

His gaze was lingering on you as you left. His thoughts started to drift to you again as his cheeks turned pink.

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Morgan mimicked in a higher pitched voice with a grin as he approached Spencer's desk. In response Spencer turned his chair away from Morgan to hide his now red face. 

“When are you two going to start dating? You guys already act like a couple.” 

“We do not act like a couple,” Spencer argued. “She just sometimes calls me pet names, that's normal for her.” 

“You don’t see it do you?” Morgan furrowed his eyebrows and was seconds away from chuckling. “She’s been giving you quite a bit of attention lately. Practically clinging onto you.” 

“I mean I- I don’t think so. She does that with everyone, it's not just me. She just happens to be very affectionate with friends.” He answers as his voice almost cracked. 

Morgan shook his head, “Oh no it’s more than that. Have you ever noticed that she calls you “my love” but she calls us “love”? Or when we’re on a long flight back home and you two are all cuddly on the jet. How she always seeks out your company and finds an excuse to talk to you or about you.” 

Spencer couldn’t speak. He had so many words on the tip of his tongue but his voice wouldn’t make a sound. He sat frozen and mouth slightly agape as his brain started to go into overdrive. 

Morgan's face softened at Spencer's reaction. “It’s different with you kid. Friends don’t act like that.” 

“You and Garcia do.” Spencer countered, this time definitely with a voice crack. Morgan lightly chucked. He was well aware that his and Penelope’s friendship was a bit different than other male/female friendships. 

“Okay you got me there, but you and Y/N aren’t me and Garcia. We may flirt with each other a lot but that’s our thing. You two have this care for each other like nothing I've ever seen.” 

Spencer was left stunned once again and Morgan could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“You may not notice it now, or hell you may not let yourself notice it now, but it’s true.” 

Those words rang in the back of Spencer's mind for days. Of course on a regular basis you would occupy his mind at any given moment. But now it wasn’t just thoughts about you. His mind was over analyzing almost every interaction between you and him, trying to find what Morgan had talked about. Some form of evidence that proved what you felt for him was beyond what he had initially thought. 

He was recounting all the recent times you had approached him out of the members of your team. He recalled all the times you were either hanging out or on the jet and you found yourself tracing patterns on his arm. He was rethinking when you started to use nicknames around him and how it could be different with him than with others. It turned out Morgan might be right, as Spencer realized the numerous times you referred to Garcia or Emily as “love”, but in the rare instance you said “my love” it was only ever directed to him. 

The idea of you liking him back had become an all consuming thought, but he was too terrified to ask you. What if Morgan was wrong? Profilers have been wrong before. He became petrified by the idea of asking you about it and possibly finding out his feelings were unrequited. But most of all, he was scared of losing you. Scared that if he brought it up he would make things awkward and ruin your friendship. He couldn’t lose you, not over something as trivial as his feelings. 

Unfortunately the mental toll this was taking on his mind started to show. Not so obvious that the everyday person would notice, but you weren’t an everyday person. You grew to know him like the back of your hand. So of course you started to notice the little changes in his behavior. His ever so slight flinch when you would initially touch him. His eyes which used to linger on you and catch your eyes from across the room, now focused almost anywhere you weren’t. The way his body froze when you placed a hand on his shoulder. The way his eyes partially widened when you called him anything other than his name. 

He tried to hide his worries from you, but you could tell something was bothering him. 

Something about you.

His overall behavior didn’t reflect that he was avoiding you or distancing himself from you. He still talked to you and acted around you like normal. Instead it felt like he was holding himself back from receiving or truly appreciating your affection the way he used to. 

~

Days had passed and the team was sent on a case. While this case was an emotional rollercoaster for everyone, it had affected you the most. The victims had reminded you of yourself and the unsub and all of his delusional reasoning for his actions had hit very close to home. 

The team caught the unsub and closed the case quite late in the evening. Everyone was exhausted after the grueling past few days and decided to spend the night at the hotel to rest and leave in the morning. You however, still felt an ache in your stomach from all the anxiety felt throughout the day. You couldn’t seem to relax and let that weight off your shoulders. So you went to the one person who could help.  

Spencer was getting ready to go to sleep, peacefully reading a book in bed when he got a knock on his door. He placed his book down and when he opened the door he was greeted by you in pajama pants and a zip up hoodie, clearly also winding down for the night. 

“Hey,” you greeted. 

“Hi, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, a bit concerned as to why you showed up at his hotel so late at night. He opened the door wider signaling you were welcome inside. You entered the room and stuffed your hands in your pockets as he closed the door. 

“I’m okay I just …” you cleared your throat. “I know this case has been a tough one but today’s been really hard for me. I’m still wired and awake, I can’t seem to relax enough to go to sleep,” You abruptly stopped your rambling to catch your breath. 

“This might sound dumb but, I’m in desperate need of a hug right now,” you finally admitted quietly.

He hated seeing you so timid and closed off. How you made yourself smaller than you were, all because you were asking for your basic needs to be met. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to explain why you need a hug. You can just ask,” he said reassuringly. 

“Oh.” 

“Physical contact has been shown to increase levels of dopamine, serotonin, and even oxytocin; therefore, decreasing levels of stress and anxiety. Some people might even argue that physical touch is a fundamental element of being human and experiencing life.” His other way of trying to validate your feelings was of course rambling a string of facts and information from his fingertips. 

You couldn’t help but smile. God he loved it when you smiled. 

“So is that a yes?” you asked since you never exactly got an answer from your question in the first place. Even though you knew what his answer was. 

The corners of his lips turned into a grin. “Come here,” he says with outstretched arms. 

You practically ran into him at his offer. He wrapped his arms around you as you placed yours around his neck. He wished this moment could last forever. All while at the same time Morgan's previous statements were circling around in his head. 

He tried his best to push them away. He tried to tell himself this was not you acting on any potential feelings for him. This was simply you reaching out to a friend in need. 

He took note of the way you held onto him so tightly, almost as if he could leave at any second. It made his heart ache. 

“You feel tired,” he almost whispered. 

“I am,” you mumbled back, face buried in his neck. 

“Do you wanna lie down?” 

You lightly patted him on the back, “Don’t worry I’ll leave you be and go to sleep soon. I just need a minute 

“I meant … I meant do you want to lie down here?” He stammered. “So you’re not alone. You seem like you need a friend right now.” 

His own heart almost cracks when he says friend. But that’s what you need right now, a friend. 

“I’d like that,” you said with a small smile. 

You separate from him and he leads you to the bed holding your hand. He sits down against the headboard and waits for you to join him. 

You awkwardly sit down on the bed, eyes darting in all directions of where he’s sitting. “I- what should I …” 

“You could sit down the way you do on the jet,” he kindly offers. 

You relax at his words and move to sit at his side. He wraps his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. You both sat there in a moment of silence, enjoying eachothers company. He was getting lost in the sweet smell of your perfume; the small bit of it that still lingers from the long day you’ve had. 

He started to recall all the times you two would be close like this. It didn’t happen very often. Sometimes on a long jet ride home from a long or stressful case. Or sometimes when the team went out for drinks and you would be tired from dancing. In the rare occasions you two were like this, you would tend to draw patterns on his arm or leg. 

So he decided to finally return the favor. With the arm he had wrapped around you, he started to dance his fingertips over your upper arm. 

He felt you practically melt into him at the action. If you could get any closer to him, you did. 

He continued tracing your arm with an overwhelming amount of care. It made you consider his previous actions compared to how welcome you were now in his arms. 

“Spencer, I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me,” you spoke with a hidden hesitation in your voice. 

“Of course I’ll be honest to you. I always will be,” he furrowed his brows at the thought of you being scared of him lying to you. 

You let out a small, almost shaky breath. “Am I clingy?” you murmured. 

This made his hand on your arm stop. He shifted his sitting position so he could face you better but also didn’t want to let you out of his hold. 

“No, never,” he told you with assurance. “Why would you think you’re clingy?” 

He saw you hesitate once more before you gave him your reply. “I was just overthinking things. Worried I was taking the physical contact thing too far or that I’m a bit too affectionate at times.“

“Why would you be worried? You’d never take things too far. You’ve always been respectful of other people’s boundaries.” 

You sighed with a shaky breath. He could practically see through you and see you considering your response. 

“Because I thought I was making you uncomfortable.” you looked down to avoid his gaze. 

He was quiet for a second, absolutely baffled as to how you would think you could ever make him uncomfortable. “Why?” His question was a barely audible whisper.  

“You seemed different. All of a sudden you would freeze when I touched you. You became jumpy and skittish when I talked to you. I thought I was too much for you but you didn’t want to tell me about it.” 

You shifted away to face him and his hand fell from your arm. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your hoodie as your face went blank. 

“You could never be too much for me,” he spoke with a soft voice. He tried to reach his hand out to hold yours but your hand disappeared in your sleeve at his touch. 

“Then why were you different all of a sudden?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

His cheeks started to turn pink, “I- I wasn’t.” 

“Yes you were.” 

“Y/N please,” he begged. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as your eyes bore into his. “You said you’d be honest with me.” 

He licked his lips and his face turned red. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He couldn’t find an escape route. He had no choice but to tell you. And once the flood gate opened, he would never be able to close it. 

“I was freaking out,” he blurted. 

“I was freaking out because Morgan implanted this idea in my head that you might possibly have feelings for me based on the way you act around me. I’ve been obsessed with that thought since he mentioned it. So I freaked out almost every time you touched me, talked to me, even looked at me,” he rambled on anxiously as he tried to explain himself. No holding back now. 

“I tried not to let it change my behavior but I guess it did and I am so sorry for that. I never wanted to give you the impression that I was uncomfortable. To be honest I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable” 

You were silent for a moment. He couldn’t read your reaction. Your eyebrows slightly raised with your lips parted. He could only see surprise, which was typical, he just didn’t know if this kind of surprise was good. 

“Why were you so obsessed with the idea of me having feelings for you?” 

He could’ve sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest at any moment. 

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

 Here we go. Flood gates. 

“The idea you might like me back became an all consuming thought because I never before thought it was possible and I never wanted to get my hopes up. Actually, I pretty much think about you all the time so it wasn’t that far from normal. ” 

“You’re falling in love with me?” you asked barely above a whisper. 

“Yes,” he spoke softly with full confidence. 

The only change to your appearance was your eyes widened a bit more. It made Spencer's heart sink to his stomach. 

“Listen, I understand if this makes things weird between us and I am so sorry. I just couldn’t ..”

He couldn't finish his thought, you were too busy locking your lips with his. It was a sweet but cautious kiss, almost as if you were testing the waters in uncharted territory. You felt him freeze against you so you leaned away, breaking from the kiss. 

Not even seconds later Spencer placed a hand on your face and was diving back into the kiss with fervor. You instantly reacted as your arms found their way around his neck and your hand was digging in his hair. The kiss was intoxicating. Both of you trying to get a taste of the other after what felt like eons of pinning. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist while his one hand snuck up to the small of your back where your hoodie had exposed your skin. It sent a shiver up your spine while you let out a shaky breath against his lips. You tried shifting in your seat to somehow get closer to him. With his hands against your waist he helped guide you to sit in his lap straddling him. 

When you finally break from the kiss your faces are red and Spencer rests his forehead against yours. You focus on the sound of his breath and the feeling of your heart practically beating in your ears. 

Your hand moves to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “I guess I didn’t do a very good job at showing I had feelings for you.” 

The corners of his mouth lift up into a giddy smile. “No, you did. I’m just oblivious.”

“Sounded like you were in denial,” you lightly teased. 

“That too,” he chuckles. 

After a moment of enjoying each other's presence, you pull away from him just far enough to look him in the eyes. 

“I know I call everyone pet names, but every time I used them with you, I wanted it to mean something more. Part of me would always hope you would one day call me those names back,” 

Spencer swore his heart could give out at any second. He never expected to hear this from you and it made him lightheaded.

“This may sound childish but.. I never craved attention so badly, until you gave me yours,” you added. 

He licked his lips and smiled. With his hands still on your waist he traced mindless patterns at your sides. “You have my complete and undivided attention, my love.”

His words made you giddy. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling. Although, he would never be opposed to hearing your beautiful laugh. 

There were no words to describe the way that you felt. So without thinking, you leaned forward once more to capture his lips with yours. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag Requests: @nomajdetective

Private Encounters

Pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x reader

Summary: you were tired of Cardan constantly attacking you and your friends. one day, though, Cardan asks to speak with you privately, and no good things could come from the prince of elfhame wanting to speak with you with no one else around

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

✰  ✰  ✰

"Hurry up, you guys! We're gonna be late again!" Taryn whisper-shouted as you and Jude trailed behind her towards the courtyard.

Usually, you two went alone on your adventures, but Taryn decided she wanted to be spontaneous, too, and wanted to join along. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to have that much fun, and urged you back to class almost as soon as you got there.

"Who cares if we're late?" Jude rolled her eyes. "It's not like anyone would really care."

"Just because they don't like us, doesn't mean I want to draw their attention. Who knows what they'll do." Taryn shifted the picnic basket of food between her hands, nervously. She was always the most cautious of you three; always fearing what they would say or do to you guys.

You scoffed, "Taryn, let's be real. Even if we were there on time and minded our own business, Cardan and his little fanclub would still find some reason to bother us."

Jude chuckled, "he's so insufferable. What I wouldn't do to wipe that idiotic grin off his face."

You laughed, "I'm right there with you. It's like his greatest pleasure is being annoying."

"I don't know." Taryn slows her speed walk to match pace with Jude and I. "I feel like Cardan mostly has it out for you, now, (Y/N)."

You rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah," Jude agreed. "Ever since we became friends, he's like diverted the hatred for us onto you."

You laughed, "Wow, thanks guys. Who knew being your friend would make a prince despise me."

Jude laughed too. "I don't think it was all our fault. You're human, so he would have hated you anyway."

"That's so reassuring, thanks for that."

Jude smirked, "anytime."

When we finally emerged onto the courtyard where class was taking place, most everyone ignored you, save for the professor.

"Ah," he said, "nice of you three to join us. Please find a seat so we can continue on with our lessons of astronomy."

Taryn bowed her head to keep from looking at anyone. You noticed Jude did not bow her head, but she would not look at the other students.

You, however, must be an idiot to not follow along with them, because your gaze falls straight to Cardan, who is staring back at you with much ferocity.

As the even bigger idiot you are, you do not avert your gaze, but simply glare back at him. To that, and small, devilish grin grows on his face. It almost seems like an invite of this little game you play. He hates you and your friends, goes out of his way to torment you three, and for that, you refuse to back down. Sometimes, you think he likes that you fight him so much.

"(Y/N)," Taryn calls, quietly as to avoid too much attention. She waves you over. Only then do you realize you've been staring at Cardan so long that Jude and Taryn have already set up the blanket and started spreading out the food.

Your cheeks heat as you walk the few feet to where they are sitting. You can hear Cardan snicker as you walk past him and Nicasia.

"What were you thinking!" Taryn scolds as you finally sit down on the blanket. Your professor continues with his lecture, but you don't even bother to pay attention to him.

You shrug, "I'm not really sure. I just can't stand him so much it makes me crazy."

Jude laughs at that. "I'm so glad we're friends, (Y/N). I think I'd go crazy if I didn't have someone else to share my hatred for Cardan with."

You giggle, "well it's a good thing I'm here, then, huh?"

"I don't think anyone is happy you're here."

Looking up from where you're sitting, you see Nicasia and Cardan looming down over you. Seems like the lesson is over as everyone else has abandoned the courtyard.

"Oh, Nicasia, always a pleasure." You rolled your eyes as you stood up. Behind you, you hear the shuffling of Jude standing and pulling Taryn up with here. "To what do we owe you coming over here and bothering us for?"

She smirked, "I have no reason for being near you filthy mortals other than to make sure you stay in your place. You don't belong here. You're frail, and worthless, and someone needs to remind you of that."

You mocked her with a laugh, "is that really all you've got?"

Taryn let out a quiet gasp.

Nicasia narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?"

You shrugged. "All I'm saying is you give the same excuse every time you come over here. 'I'm putting you in your place', 'make sure you know what a worthless mortal you are'. Blah, blah, blah. It's very redundant, Nicasia, and quite truthfully, it's just tiresome." You said condescendingly.

The fire is her eyes was hot. Her fists balled at her side as she glared at you.

Now, it's not like you were looking for trouble, or that you wanted anything bad to happen to you or your friends. You just could not stand the way she and Cardan always came over to you and caused problems.

The slap was expected. Your cheek burned as Nicasia's hand left your face. Taryn couldn't hold back the very audible gasp that left her lips. Looking back to your friends, Taryn looked utterly frightened, and Jude looked angrier than you'd ever seen her.

Right as Nicasia was about to slap you again, Cardan interrupted her.

"Nicasia," Cardan warned as he lifted his hand, "that is quite enough."

You scoffed. "Oh, and since when are you ever the peace maker?"

Cardan smirked, "Since Nicasia decided she was going to slap you. I quite like your face the way it is."

All heads turned to Cardan as he said that. Nicasia looked hurt, Taryn looked almost as confused as you felt, and Jude just looked disgusted.

You narrowed my eyes at Cardan, despite your confusion. "What games are you playing at, Greenbriar?"

His eyebrows shot up in delightful surprise. A cheeky smirk playing on his lips. "I have no games, (Y/L/N)." He spat out your last name like it disgusted but also intrigued him.

He looked between Nicasia, Jude and Taryn. "You, leave us. I have a few words for (Y/N)."

Jude and Taryn looked at each other, confused and contemplating if they should leave or not. You stood your ground though.

"I'll be fine, guys. I'll just meet you back at Madoc's, okay?" You tried to reassure them, though you weren't exactly sure what you were getting yourself into. All you knew was that you didn't want Cardan to know he frightened you.

Jude nodded her head. "We won't be far. And Cardan," she turned to him, "if you so much as touch one hair on her head, I will-"

"Oh relax, would you, Jude? Always resolving your issues with murder." Cardan rolled his eyes. "Leave us. Now."

Jude glared at Cardan before turning to you and giving you a reassuring look. Just as quickly, she turned away and pulled Taryn off with her.

"And you," Cardan said as he turned to Nicasia. "I believe I ordered you away, as well."

Nicasia looked shocked. "Me? Why would I need to be sent away? Whatever punishment you have for the way she spoke to me, I want-"

"Leave, Nicasia. I won't ask you again."

Stunned, Nicasia's mouth hung open just slightly as she looked between you and Cardan. With a 'hmph', Nicasia turned on her heel and strutted away, leaving behind just Cardan and you.

The two of you stood there in silence. You gazed up at him, trying to decipher why he could possibly want to speak with you alone. Maybe he wants to kill you. Maybe he's grown tired of this cat and mouse game you have going on.

"What do you want, Cardan?"

He smirked, and took a daring step closer to you. "I just wanted to talk with you. You're... interesting. I find you intriguing to say the least."

You raised my brow in confusion. "You find me intriguing? Now I know you're toying with me. What do you really want, Cardan?"

He scoffed. "Is it that hard for you to admit that I might find you interesting?"

"How interesting could I possibly be? I'm mortal, remember? Can't believe you would forget, not after you and your friends made it your entire personalities to constantly remind me of my mortality and how worthless you believe me to be."

Cardan's smirk only grew. "You are quite right. You're mortal. Mortals by nature are fragile, slow, susceptible to our tricks, and yet you seem to be quite the opposite."

Your eyebrows shot up, completely shocked by this sort-of compliment you just received from the Prince of Elfhame.

Cardan continued before you could even get a word out. "I dislike mortals quite a bit. I think they are weak. They have little skill that is worth anything, and they are often succumbed to the nature of our people. You, however, are quite different, (Y/N)."

He took a tender step closer to you. Your breath was caught in your throat. Cardan had never shown any type of interest in you. You thought he'd never actually shown anything other than disgust towards you, but maybe you were wrong.

Maybe all of those teasing smirks and cruel comments were him testing you, trying to figure out just how far he could push you.

"You've stood up to me. You've been given every chance to back down. I've seen how far you are willing to go to defend yourself and those little friends of yours. I find it admirable in a way."

You force out a laugh. "You find it admirable? Everything you consider so 'strong' and 'admirable' about me is what I've had to do to survive this place. You've done nothing but make living here just that much harder than it already is for mortals."

You strode closer to Cardan, persistence on your face. His eyes widened slightly, but the daring smirk never faltered from his lips.

Just as you two were chest to chest, you spoke, "answer now, Cardan, what is it you really wanted to tell me?"

"I've already told you, (Y/N). I think you're admirable. I think you're intriguing. I think there is something about you that keeps drawing me in. Something so pulling, it's frustrating how much I think of you."

No words left your mouth. How could they when your jaw laid open the way it was.

Cardan chuckled. "Now, another reason I wanted you here. I must ask: I know you mortals can lie, something we folk can not do, but how are you so good at pretending?"

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Pretending?"

Cardan's smirk only grew, "pretending you aren't in love with me, that is."

The world had stopped. It felt like your entire world had shattered. This was quite possibly the last thing you thought Cardan would get you alone for.

Anyone with eyes could see that Cardan Greenbriar was gorgeous. All of his kind were gorgeous, but he had exceptional beauty. Beside that, you couldn't find one characteristic about him that you had liked. Sure, maybe he stopped Nicasia from hurting you further than she would have. And by the way Jude recalled his cruelty before they met you, it seemed to have subsided quite a bit since you met him. That still doesn't change the fact that he is cruel, and has been for a long time.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You shook your head clear from your thoughts. "No. Just confused how you could possibly think I would be in love with you."

"You want to know how I know you're in love with me, despite what you might believe?" Cardan grinned and closed the already small space between you two. "Because I know how insufferable you find me. I know how I get under your skin, how you lay awake thinking of how much you hate me. I know this because I feel the same towards you, and despite my feelings of irritation with you, I still find myself completely infatuated by you."

"You are?" You questioned, voice so quiet you might barely have heard it, but Cardan sure did.

He grinned. "Oh, yes. I have been infatuated with you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I wasn't lying earlier when I told Nicasia I'd like her to leave your face the way it is. I think you are pretty for a mortal. You give off this glow and iridescence. You are unlike any other mortal I've come across. The way you've kept me up at night, the way I am excited to see you just to have our little spat had me confused for the longest time. Eventually, I just couldn't take it anymore and I’ve decided to act on it."

You couldn't take it anymore. Everything Cardan said resonated so deeply with you. Somehow he knew exactly how you felt. The way you hated him, the way you were angry with yourself when you thought of him so often, everything he said he felt is exactly what you were going through as well.

You decided, if Cardan was going to act on his confusing feelings, you would act on yours as well.

Already chest to chest, you reached up and gripped Cardan hair, tight enough to hurt, and kissed him with all of the pent up anger and hatred for him you had.

If Cardan was surprised, he didn't seem it. He gripped onto your waist and kissed you back with so much ferocity it made your knees weak.

It was hot, and it was unlike any kiss you've ever had before. Kissing Cardan was unleashing something so deep inside of you. All of your confused feelings for him wrapped up all into a long-awaited kiss.

Gasping for air, you and Cardan separated, though not fully. While you were no longer kissing, you had yet to pull your fingers from the tangles of his hair, and he had no plans of letting go of his hold on your waist.

"I still hate you," you said breathlessly.

Cardan smiled, he actually smiled and replied, "I think I hate you more."

LMAO, this is a secret but idk what happened between them yet, im figuring it out but itll be angsty i promise

005 - 10 things i hate about you

ex!suna rintarō x singer! reader

mt. list

previous | next

please ignore that i didnt crop the photos so u can see the actual time in whoch they were taken

theyre both accepting their feelings but it wont be that easy, i want this to be looooong

idk what to say for this chapter

the song that y/n “wrote” is i know you by faye webster

i started journaling and i use my pink pen to write stuff lmao

so i wrote the lyrics w my pink pen

only suna, tsukishima and her brothers know abt y/n only using her pink pen for songs or her diary, oikawa only assumed she was writing bc well she posts abt writing and then a cryptic message?

i added the little detail of y/n doing her a’s like the font instead of “𝙖” bc thats how i write my a’s LMAO

taglist (OPEN)

@lvc-lv @renardiererin @3lectraheart @nyxlai @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @wooasecret @sonicsolos @dazqa @mfcherry @iluvhelokity @eclipticnikki @unhinged-atrocities @platimoonie @sp1ng @just-coreee @piopioo

idc how old this is, everyone needs to read it

Damian Al Ghul and the Annoying Reporter Masterlist → Completed

Masterlist

AgedUp!Damian Al Ghul x fem!reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, low-key crack fic, action

WC: 18,500

All Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character death, mention of death, self-consciousness, salty Damian, Titus liking the MC better

Synopsis:

Wanting to make a name for herself, Y/N does the unthinkable and tries to interview the heir to the League of Assassins. Although, it doesn’t go as planned. How will she be able to salvage this, especially when Damian Al Ghul doesn’t like strangers.

Chapter Index:

Teaser || chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7 || chapter 8 || chapter 9 || chapter 10 || chapter 11 || chapter 12 || Epilogue

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.

have some texts w bakugo except its canon bakugo while i study