take the edge off. [suna rintarou x f!reader] chapter one.
>>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]
masterlist. || next.
a/n: suna has two brain cells that rub together like little housefly hands when it comes to yn and literally at no other point
[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]
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“You know what’s crazy? I haven’t gotten laid in, like, a year.”
Looking back, there was absolutely no need for you to admit that.
But right now, there’s a bottle of wine in your system, and you’re about halfway through a trashy rom-com on a Friday night. It’s not shy on mature scenes, either, which is why you’d said it, your eyes trained almost wistfully on the screen as the two leads stumble through the girl’s front door together and get straight to business.
And it’s only Suna here, also a bottle of wine deep. He won’t judge you for saying it, not when there’s over ten years of moments far worse than this, very securely tying you two together.
He is, however, far more scandalized by your words than you’d expected.
Suna flies up from his sprawled position on your couch, kicking his legs off the coffee table as he turns toward you.
“I beg your most genuine pardon?” He asks, jaw dropped as he stares. You laugh into your wine glass, incredibly tickled and very tipsy.
“You heard me,” You answer, nodding pathetically. His eyes bug out of his head, and you’re glad he’s intoxicated enough to be reacting to this with his most authentic self, the one that’s kind of an idiot and about 150% more expressive than any of your friends could ever peg him to be.
“A year ?!” He yells, dragging it out annoyingly. “There’s no fucking way, Y/n. No fucking way.”
“Tell that to my dry spell, Sunarin,” You laugh again, shaking your head. “I’ve gotten to know my fingers and also my vibrator rather intimately.”
You certainly would not have admitted that while sober, but Suna’s just as gone as you are, not skipping a singular beat as he slumps in place.
“That’s so fucked,” He groans, dropping his head to his hands. “This has to be illegal – this is cruel and unusual punishment. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
“Well, believe it,” You snort, pointing at the ongoing sex scene on the TV. “A year without rain, truly.”
“But why ?” He laughs pathetically, shaking his head as he turns fully to you and leans against the side of the couch. “ Why ?”
“I don’t know-” You shrug, waving your hand over your own body sarcastically. “Maybe it’s got something to do with this?”
You watch as he drags his gaze down the length of your body slowly, following the trail of your hand. He shakes his head afterward, finding your eyes with unspoken confusion.
You scoff, lifting your glass to him in acknowledgement. “That’s funny.”
“What?” He tilts his head. “What’s your body got to do with it?”
You look down at yourself, wondering if you’d magically become attractive overnight.
No, still the same. Thighs too thick, a tummy that pushes against your clothes and bunches up into little rolls, stretch marks and cellulite and all the lovely things guys hate to look at.
You’d always been a bigger girl. Food had been a happy place, a place of love and care. Ice cream dates with your dad after school, dinners out with your parents on weekends. Standing in your kitchen at the house in Hyogo – the childhood home that had come with the open doors of your neighborhood friends running in and out to play and snack on your mom’s cooking – and learning the family recipes, listening to your mom’s stern but warm guidance as she’d told you ‘ Do it this way instead, don’t add too much salt ’, the crickets buzzing loudly just outside the window.
High school had made food into a more complicated matter, because it had come with girls who’d poke fun at your uniform, bigger than theirs and still tighter than you were comfortable with. It had come with crushes on boys who would only talk to you to get information about other girls, girls who were worth their time. It had come with a strained relationship with your mother’s cooking, once so safe and kind and pure. You’d tried just about every diet known to man, and nothing had ever worked.
You’re in a place now where you’re just happy to be able to enjoy food to its full extent, whatever the cost. Good food in the body is more healing for the soul than starving and then binging and then starving again, viciously repeated. You fully believe this, and your mental happiness is the best it’s been in a long time, 26 years old and focused only on feeding yourself with good, clean ingredients and going to bed happy.
But it had taken a lot to get here, and you’re still recovering from the damage.
Luckily, high school hadn’t been all bad. In fact, Inarizaki High had had a weird way of changing your life. Boys and girls, nameless and faceless now, had ignored you and passed you over, only noticing you so they could use you – their personal entertainment, someone had admitted once.
But they’d also flocked to and thrown themselves at the feet of the most popular boys in school, vying for attention. The Inarizaki High Boys’ Volleyball Club.
The team was nearly legend, despite being just a group of regular teenage boys. Each player had his own group of fans, all unhinged in their own ways. The worst, unsurprisingly, were the girls attached to Miya Atsumu.
When he’d been assigned as your deskmate at the beginning of 2nd year, you’d felt a deep sense of dread. Would he make fun of you, too? If he did it, the entire school would be pelting insults at you by the end of the week. Would his fangirls start targeting you in worse ways, in the bathroom and during lunch?
But he’d been shockingly kind. Not a word uttered about your appearance or the things you’d eat. But not ignoring you like most boys do, not passing over you like he hadn’t even seen you.
He’d sat down that first day with a bright grin and a hand stuck out in your direction, all but yelling in your ear that it was nice to meet you and asking why he hadn’t met you before, his drawl heavier than your other classmates’ and a bit endearing, even on first meeting.
‘ I’m a bit forgettable ,’ You’d admitted quietly, but he’d just shot you a strange side glance.
‘ Says who? That ain’t nice. ’
You hadn’t known what to do with that.
You hadn’t known what to do with any part of Miya Atsumu, really. Not the daily greetings, screeched down the hall the moment he’d see you. Not the notes he’d pass to you during class, badgering you to become the Volleyball Club’s manager so you could become better friends. Not the way he could always kind of tell if you were upset by something someone said, because he would somehow become even louder after the fact, distracting you via sheer ear damage.
Not the way he’d become cold and detached the first time he’d actually witnessed someone bullying you, the way his bright eyes had dulled into nothing and held no guilt as he’d made a girl cry in front of the whole class.
‘ I don’t want to switch seats with you, ’ You’d told her, shaking your head. ‘ This is the one assigned to me- ’
‘ I don’t give a fuck, ’ She’d spit at you, pointing at her own desk, piled high with snacks from the vending machine. ‘ I left you a trail of food, little piggie – go follow it so that I can sit with Atsumu and give him something good to look at- ’
‘ Somethin’ good, huh? ’ He’d materialized just beside you, staring at the girl emptily. You’d almost been scared of the look in his eye. ‘ And who’s s’posed to give me that, you? ’ He’d cast a cursory glance over her, looking entirely unimpressed. ‘ You look like you couldn’t get through a single conversation with me.’
You’d gasped, eyes wide and watching as he’d flopped down into his chair and thrown his legs up on the desk, forcing the girl to scurry back from where she was leaning threateningly over you. He’d hummed, assessing her through narrowed eyes. ‘ You look like an only child. You an only child? You look it- Oh, no, I got it-’ And then he’d clapped, laughing brightly and nudging you, as though you weren’t frozen in shock. ‘ Don’t she kinda look like a girl you wouldn’t introduce t’your parents? Sure as shit not mine, at least.’
The girl had long started tearing up, the entire room watching in varying degrees of horror as Atsumu had just pulled a wrapped onigiri from his bag and offered it to you. He’d shot the girl a look of disdain when she’d started wailing, because Miya Atsumu was sharing his lunch with you, the girl that was forgettable.
‘ Yer makeup’s running, just so you know, ’ He’d state plainly, pointing up at her. ‘ My mom’s always talkin’ bout gettin’ waterproof shit- ’ He’d turned to you, eyes wide. ‘ You know ‘bout that waterproof stuff? Mascara, er whatever? ’
‘ I-’ You’d shaken your head. ‘ I don’t wear makeup, I don’t know- ’
He’d grinned in your face, eyes beaming in that bright way again, the way that you’d thought was guaranteed. You hadn’t realized how safe you’d found that brightness before now. ‘ You don’t wear makeup?’ He’d leaned back with a smirk, drawing the final line for everyone to hear and making it clear that you were not to be fucked with again. ‘ Naturally pretty, then. That’s how I like my girls. ’
The rest of high school had been a surreal experience.
You were impossible to pass over now, because everyone knew who you were. Girls were still cruel, but only in private, where Atsumu couldn’t see. Boys would still mention your weight, but only the ones who were rejecting your quiet confessions, and even then, they’d tried their best to deliver it politely.
Atsumu had never been more than a friend, of course, but he’d been a good one. The best one, really, considering that not even a few weeks into knowing you, his brother would regularly have to physically tear him away from you so they could make it to practice in time.
‘ I’m talkin’ here, Samu! We’re chattin’! ’
‘ Save it, fucker, we got shit to do! ’
You’d always found Osamu a bit easier to digest as a personality, and you’d hit it off right away – He’d been reading a magazine about baking when you’d met, and you’d mentioned wanting to try the cake on page 12, because you had the same one at home. He’d taken to you like a baby bird, asking you to try the random rolls and cakes and breads he would make at home. You’d been so shocked the first time he’d shoved a banana roll in your face that you hadn’t thought to consider calories or sugar or carbs or any of it. You’d just taken a bite and then spent the rest of the free hour taste-testing it again and again, using every ounce of your brain power to help him figure out what was perfect and what need improving.
But, if you were honest, you’d been more comfortable in the presence of his twin, in the tornado of genuine and terrifying care that was Atsumu. He’d always been honest and tactless, and – on the days when someone was unfortunate enough to have been caught saying something to you – he was cruel and mean and terrible, brutal without remorse. But he was your first ever best friend, exasperating personality and all.
And the only person worse than Miya Atsumu, really, was Suna Rintarou.
Your lunch breaks, originally alone and then suddenly with Atsumu, were even more suddenly shaken with the introduction of the VBC. To Aran and Kita and – crucially – to Suna, whose snarky demeanor and lack of a social filter was well-known by the time he’d flopped down into the seat in front of yours.
Suna, whose usual reaction to girls approaching him at lunch was to mumble ‘ Fuck off, please ’ lazily, through a mouthful of food and without ever looking up from his phone.
Suna, whose introduction to you had come with him pointing at your chopsticks, halfway to your mouth, and quietly asking ‘ Can I try that ?’ about your mother’s spring rolls. He’d leaned over the moment you’d stuttered a response – taking a huge bite right off of your chopsticks, even though you’d just met the boy 30 seconds prior – and then trading you some of his own mother’s cooking in return, half a rice ball set casually in your container.
Suna, who’d pried your phone from your slightly terrified fingers and entered his number, a steady stream of memes and YouTube videos buzzing in your pocket from that moment on.
Suna Rintarou, who wouldn’t only say something when he’d catch someone else being explicitly rude to you. He’d say something if someone even looked at you the wrong way or whispered to their friend in a way that he didn’t like.
‘ You got a problem? ’
‘ Something you wanna share with the class?’
When he’d come around the corner and find someone making pig noises in your direction or laughing at how your uniform fit-
‘ Were you not loved enough by your mother?’
‘Have you ever thought of seeking professional help?’
And when one boy had pushed at your shoulder – just a prod of his fingers, but rude all the same – you’d felt Suna’s presence more than heard it, a sudden chill hovering at your back.
‘ Apologize – on your knees – before I break that hand.’
The boy had hesitated, but he’d dropped to the floor soon after, because Suna had taken a step toward him. He’d muttered that he was sorry, and then repeated it louder when Suna had crouched beside him and whispered ‘ Again – like you mean it this time’ while smiling down at the hand he’d just threatened to break.
You’d been properly scared of Suna Rintarou for some time after that.
He’d noticed, his eyes following you in every room you’d walked into, an amused smirk on his lips.
He’d skipped practice one day to walk you home, hands in pockets as he’d trailed after you. No words had been shared, but he’d walked you home the day after, and then again. Atsumu had yelled at him for missing practice on the fourth day, so he’d started showing up in the morning instead, leading you quietly to school.
It had been raining one morning, about a week later, and you’d been rushing around your room to get ready, wondering if Suna would even bother to wait in the rain for you. Wondering when you’d started expecting him to be there.
You’d looked out the window, almost 45 minutes before you’d usually leave, and found him there. Under an umbrella, leaning on the gate and scrolling through his phone. You’d gasped, scrambling down the stairs with your mismatched pajamas and bedhead and yanking the door open.
‘ Suna Rintarou! ’ You’d scolded, and his head had popped up in surprise. It was the first time you’d properly addressed him during one of these morning walks.
‘ Get your ass in here! ’
He’d lifted his brows but listened right away, pocketing his phone and passing through the gate to your front door. Your mother had stuck her head out into the hallway, shocked at your tone.
‘ Who- ’ She’d started, but you’d just gestured in annoyance at the boy standing in your foyer trying to find a place to put his umbrella. You’d snatched it from him and leaned it on the door.
‘ This is Suna. Suna, my mom,’ You’d grumbled, realizing the state of yourself when Suna had just stared at the mess on your head and then pursed his lips to hide a smile.
‘ Oh, the stalker boy! ’ She’d clapped excitedly, and you’d barked out a laugh at Suna’s face of horror.
‘ I-No, I’m not-’ He’d stuttered, and you’d saved him by leading him to the living room.
‘ She’s just messing with you. You sit here and wait while I get ready ,’ You’d pointed at the couch and then disappeared upstairs, hurrying even more than before.
When you’d come back down, your mother had been urging him to the table to eat. He’d followed, clearly feeling out of place.
You’d eaten with him while your mom had been preparing a second bento, loudly exclaiming from the kitchen that athletes should eat more than three times a day. He’d just smiled gratefully and then eyed you, mumbling ‘ I liked your pajamas’ under his breath and snickering when you’d tried to swing at him from across the table.
It had been monumentally humiliating when, as you were pulling on your shoes, your mother had pulled him aside and very conspicuously thanked him for looking out for you.
‘ You’re such a nice boy, taking care of my girl. Kids can be so mean .’
You’d stood with Suna’s umbrella in hand, glaring at him over your mom’s shoulder, because he’d looked way too pleased with himself. He’d followed you out, forced to run as you’d stalked off into the torrential downpour with his umbrella. He hadn’t said anything for a while, just holding the umbrella and walking beside you for most of the journey. But just as the school had come into view, he’d smirked down at you and said-
‘ You told your mom about me .’
You’d run the rest of the way to school, preferring to sit all day in wet clothes over finishing that conversation.
You’d been forced after that to get used to Suna’s voice in your living room while you’d dressed for the day, and then the knock on your front door after practice, your mother sending him up to your room to lounge on your floor and copy off your homework.
You hadn’t been able to get rid of him, and more than ten years had passed just the same, college finding him more often in your dorm room than his own and post-grad life finding the two of you and the Miya twins in Osaka. Atsumu had been recruited to the Black Jackals, and Suna had opened a tattoo shop, practicing on himself through college until his skin had been covered in ink and a deposit had been put down on a small shop space not too far from your apartment.
You had formed a kind of soul-bond with Osamu over all things food-related, even with your own strained relationship with it, and you’d co-signed on an empty shop across the street from the Jackals’ home gym. You’d opened a cafe on one side, your culinary degree put to use on an extensive knowledge of coffees and teas, and Osamu had set up a bakery on the other side, the two of you decorating cakes and testing recipes for hours after closing time. Your shared shop had seen wild success, both due to your talents and due to being located in a tourist and sports enthusiast hotspot.
You’d each had your various failed relationships throughout the years, Atsumu currently in the midst of a secret situationship with Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Osamu crushing rather pathetically on Hinata Shouyou’s friend Yachi Hitoka, who runs a flower shop down the road. You’d become friends with her, at first to subtly put in a good word for Samu, but now mostly because she’s likely to appear at your counter at least twice a day to hang out and try the special of the day.
Suna had had a few short flings with girls in the area, one a model-beautiful blonde who’d, offhand in the middle of your cafe, offered to be your ‘gym buddy’, should you want one. She’d been dumped on the spot, Suna going so far as to pluck the iced latte from her hand and pour it out inside her purse while holding eye contact with her.
The girls after her had been equally beautiful, but he’d always find something about them that was unacceptable after a few weeks. This one too loud and bossy, that one too quiet and submissive, the other one too everything , as he’d put it. He’d never been happy with any of them, and you could only watch with bemusement and shake your head, brushing it off as being one of the many things about Suna that you wouldn’t try to understand.
All of your boyfriends – a total of three in the five years you’d all been in Osaka – had similarly found something wrong with you. It had always been the same thing, and you’d known it. You’d known it in the way their eyes would linger on other girls or the way they’d be less affectionate in public, less willing to hold your hand or put their arm around you.
You’d known it in the way Suna had hated every one of them, hands left unshaken during introductions and green eyes watching how you’d interact with them.
You’d always broken things off first, finding it a bit funny that they would get mad at you for it, as though they hadn’t just been swiping on dating apps when they thought you weren’t looking. Always mad at you for putting yourself first, because they thought themselves above you and couldn’t believe you thought you’d find better than them.
That’s why you’re sitting here now, on this Friday night with a bottle of wine in your system, wondering how Suna Rintarou is not understanding why your appearance is the barrier between you and breaking your dry spell. After everything , he’s not understanding.
“Dude, you clearly know what my body has to do with it,” You laugh. “You met my exes.”
“Well, yeah-” He waves you off. “But they were morons, so I don’t count them.”
“I feel like you probably should, since they have the majority opinion on girls like me,” You smile, taking another sip of wine.
Suna laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’ve been fucking with the right dudes, if you think those losers were representative.”
“Do you see guys lining up outside my door?” You offer with a bemused smile. He flops against the couch, sighing.
“I cannot believe it’s been a whole year. There’s no way- Not a single one-night stand?” He tries, almost desperate to figure this out. You just shake your head. “ Why ? Where the hell are you lookin’ for ‘em?”
You laugh wholly, reaching to put your glass down and turn back to the movie. “It’s fine, dude. I was just making a passing comment-”
“Nuh-uh-” He crosses his arms over his chest, nearly pouting. “We gotta get you laid. I’ve become invested in this.”
You roll your eyes good-naturedly, ignoring him. He nudges you with his foot.
“Let’s find you someone at Miya’s party.”
You groan, laughing a bit. The Black Jackals had recently had a home game, one where they’d positively obliterated the opposite team and subsequently sent hundreds of cheering fans into your shop after the match. Atsumu had invited a hoard of people to his penthouse to celebrate tomorrow night. You’d already planned to try finding someone, but it’s a bit worrying that Suna’s involved now.
“Okay, you don’t have to get so invested. I’ll try tomorrow, I promise.”
“Nope, I’m invested. This is happening. You’re getting laid tomorrow – it’s been decreed.”
You salute him lazily, mumbling ‘ If you say so’ and going back to the movie.
–
When Suna picks you up the next night, he’s frowning down at you.
“What is this, what are you wearing?”
You’re taken aback, looking down at yourself. You’d chosen a cute red dress and thrown a cardigan over it – you look fine.
“What about it?”
“No, no, no-” He marches into your apartment, hands on your shoulders as he leads you to your room. “What is this nice girl shit? Take this off-” He pushes your cardigan off your shoulders, wrestling you out of it.
You cross your arms right away, a bit self-conscious. It’s a dress with thin straps, and you’re not happy with how your arms look in it. “I wanna wear something over it, though.”
“Oh, that’s fine, sure,” He starts, poking his head into your closet and knocking clothes around. “Except that this is a party, not a church retreat. You’re not wearing the sweater or the dress.”
“But this is my best-” You start, but Suna’s seeing something all the way in the back and reaching for it, eyes bright.
“A- ha! ”
You groan, because he’s pulling out the single sleeveless dress you own. It’s a body-hugging, little black number, one that you’d bought online when you’d been feeling particularly confident. It still has the tag on it.
“I dunno, Suna-”
“Just put it on and lemme see,” He thrusts it at you, and then he’s gone, leaving you with an outfit you would never have chosen.
You put it on, staring into your mirror with a grimace. The dress is too tight – your hips are too wide, your thighs too on display. Your boobs are too big, making the material stick to your chest in a way you don’t like.
“I don’t know,” You call. “I don’t like it.” You start to reach for the zipper to remove it, since you have no intention of showing Suna. But he’s bursting into the room, a loud ‘ I’m coming in-’ warning you with enough time to not unzip the dress.
He stops short, a pair of black heels swinging from his fingers – apparently, he’d been digging through your collection of shoes at the door for good ones. They dangle at his side, his eyes trained on your body. You watch in the mirror as he drags his eyes down the length of you and then back up, his lips parted in a way you don’t understand.
When he meets your eyes, he snapping his mouth shut and swallowing, ears turning a bit red. You frown, taking it to mean that he’s seeing too much.
“Okay,” You sigh, turning to usher him back out. He blinks rapidly and backs up. “Go. I’ll find something else.”
“What?” He stops, not letting you push him anymore. “No, you’re wearing that.”
“Suna-” You laugh, planting your hands on his chest and trying to get him out. “I look ridiculous.”
“No, you don’t.” He shakes his head, steady against you. “You’re wearing that. You look really good.”
You blink, confused. “What? Did you see what I saw?”
“I saw the exact same thing you saw. You’re wearing that.”
“Dude, no-”
“Yes-” He cuts you short, rounding you and pushing you out toward the living room. You shake your head, trying and failing to go back. “Stop arguing with me.” He puts the heels in your hand and disappears to the table for your purse. You stand in front of the mirror by the door, turning this way and that to look at yourself. You don’t see what he’s talking about.
He comes to stand behind you, and you examine him, too. He’s got on black jeans and a silver belt, with a black tee tucked into his pants and a thin chain hanging loosely around his neck. There’s a long-sleeve shirt thrown over it, and his lip ring and heavily pierced ears glint in the light. His hair hangs low over his eyes, and he lifts a hand to push it back. He’s wearing a silver bracelet you’d gotten him a few years ago for Christmas, your matching one sitting in your jewelry box.
He looks really fucking good.
You sigh angrily. “I cannot be seen with you.”
He just lifts a brow. “Problem?”
You examine him again, pointing at his reflection. “Take your top shirt off. Lessen the whole… punk-rock, skater-boy vibe, please.”
He grins, handing your purse over and then stripping, the long-sleeve tossed carelessly toward your couch.
You roll your eyes. His black tee is tight on his biceps, and all his tattoos are on display.
“That’s great. That’s really great.”
“What?” He laughs, and you just shake your head, bending down to put your heels on.
“You look like an entire meal, feeding women everywhere, and I look like a sausage roll.”
He doesn’t answer, and you glance at the mirror, finding his eyes trained very obviously on how you’re bent in front of him, both eyebrows lifted just slightly.
“Are you staring at my ass?”
“Huh?” He jumps, blinking. “What’d you say? Sausage roll?”
You stand, leveling him with an empty glare. “Don’t force yourself, Sweetheart. I committed to the outfit already.”
He shakes his head, looking a bit dazed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you most certainly don’t look like a sausage roll.” He follows after you as you turn off the lights and leave the apartment, waiting behind you while you lock the door. “ Like a present that desperately needs unwrapping, maybe ,” He mumbles under his breath.
You pause, key in the door, and look over your shoulder at him with a brow raised in amusement. “What are you doing, Suna?”
He blinks lazily at you. “Honestly? Regretting that dress.”
You roll your eyes and pull the key from the lock, following him down the hall to the elevator while he shakes his head with a small sigh.
“Whatever. What time should we come back?”
He laughs, hitting the button on elevator panel that’ll lead to his car. “I thought we agreed. Not until you’ve been fucked stupid.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at his wording. “I think that was just you decreeing things. I’m a bit more realistic.” You smile mockingly up at him, and he nudges you as you walk through the parking garage.
“You’ll find someone.”
You start to argue, but you see where he’s parked, and you’re not happy.
“You didn’t bring your car.”
He leads you toward his motorcycle, tossing you a curious look over his shoulder. “Nope. Bike’s easier to park on the street.”
You gesture down at yourself angrily, snatching up the helmet he’s handing you. “I cannot sit on a motorcycle with my legs spread in this dress.”
He smiles, glancing down at your thighs. “Why? Not wearing anything under?”
You smack him with the helmet. He just throws a leg over the bike and holds a hand out for you. You do your best not to flash him as you hike a leg over the seat behind him.
Suna waits for you to adjust and re-adjust the dress until you’re sure you won’t be giving anyone a show on the way there. But when you put on the helmet and pat his shoulders to signal that you’re ready, he reaches back and wraps both hands around your thighs, dragging you closer to his back. You scream, slapping his hands, but he just pulls your arms around his waist.
“Gotta make sure you’re safe and sound,” He says, muffled through his helmet, but you can still hear the laugh in his voice.
“I hate you,” You state loudly. He just kicks the bike into life with a snicker.
The ride to Atsumu’s penthouse is a nightmare of checking your dress at red lights and praying no one’s seeing anything. By the time you get there, you’re stressed.
“What’d I tell you?” Suna asks, sliding into a narrow parking spot right outside Atsumu’s building. “Easier parking.”
“I hate you,” You repeat, letting him help you awkwardly off the bike and immediately fixing everything. He pulls the helmet gently off of you and brushes your hair out of your face. And then he smiles lazily.
“You’re so getting laid tonight. I can feel it.”
You don’t bother responding, just following him into the lobby. The front desk girl waves you through, recognizing you. Her eyes trail down your body, eyebrows raised, and you’re immediately self-conscious. But she leans over the desk, calling out as you’re reaching the elevator.
“You look really pretty!”
You blink, looking back and then up at Suna. “She talking to me or you?”
“You,” He laughs. “Definitely you.”
“Oh-” The elevator dings, signaling Atsumu’s arrival to get you up to the penthouse with his key, but you’re calling back to the girl with an awkward laugh as the doors open. “Thank you!”
“Hey- Holy shit- ”
You turn, finding Atsumu inside the elevator, staring at you with comically wide eyes and a dropped jaw. He stares so long that the elevator doors close between you, and he’s rushing to open it again. You give him a weird look.
“What?”
He shoots you a look of disbelief. “What d’ya mean, ‘ what ’? Look at you!”
You follow Suna into the elevator, mumbling, “I regret buying this dress.”
Suna shakes his head, leaning back against the wall and addressing Atsumu. “She won’t listen to me about the dress.”
Atsumu’s still staring. “What’re you tryna do, get laid?”
Suna looks at you with lifted brows and a pleased grin. “See? He gets it.”
“Damn, if Omi ‘n I weren’t-” Atsumu shakes his head, whistling. “You’d have trouble gettin’ rid of me.”
You flush, crossing your arms over your middle. “Tsumu… I really don’t look bad?”
“No way ,” He laughs, still staring. “I might go break up with ‘im, honestly.”
You laugh, face warm as you stare down at your feet. Suna scoffs beside you.
“Oh, sure, believe him but not me.” He smiles when you nudge him, and then he claps once. “Okay, here’s the plan. We cannot be seen together.”
You furrow a brow. You’d only been joking earlier. “Why?”
“Because-” He gestures down at your outfit. “- you came to get laid, and sticking to me all night will obviously mess that up.”
“But-” You don’t like not being able to stick to Suna – and, by that logic, Atsumu or Osamu – when you feel this vulnerable.
Suna shakes his head. “Nope. You gotta put yourself out there. Find someone you like and seduce him until you’re getting dragged into one of Miya’s spare rooms.” He points at you, eyes sharp. “Don’t leave with him, though. I don’t need you getting murdered.”
Atsumu nods along, finally peeling his eyes off of you to stare at the panel. You’re almost at the top. “Got lots of ‘em, spare rooms. Use one.”
You swallow nervously, watching the last two floors tick away. Suna pats you on the shoulder.
“You got this. Don’t come find me until you’re done.”
The doors open, leading straight into Atsumu’s living room.
You’re forced to wave goodbye to your safety net – he sends you off with a wink and a mouthed ‘ You look good ’. You square your shoulders and shake out your nerves, heading to the kitchen.
After finding a drink, you wander into the living room. Suna’s on one of the couches, talking to Bokuto. Atsumu’s sitting a friendly distance from Sakusa, looking like he very much wants to be in the man’s lap instead.
You see Osamu near the window, talking to someone you don’t know but looking across the room. You follow it, finding Yachi and Hinata, and make a beeline straight for her.
“Hi!” You say, and they both turn to look at you. Hinata flushes upon seeing your dress, and Yachi squeals as you sit beside her.
“You look so good, Y/n!” The younger woman hugs you tight, and you flush.
“Thanks… I’m really out of my element here,” You laugh, greeting Hinata. “Hi, Shouyou.”
“H-Hey-” He coughs. “You look really nice.”
You warm again, wondering if maybe you really don’t look half bad. “Thanks! You look good, too.” You point at his arms, seeing that he’s built some more muscle since you’d last seen him. “You really bulked up.”
He’s as red as his hair, eyes flicking to your thighs and then away. Your phone buzzes in your purse, and you peek at it.
[10:22 PM]
Sunarin : believe me yet?
You find him, seeing that he’s flicking his brows and glancing toward Hinata. You roll your eyes with a smile and start to put your phone away, but it buzzes again.
Sunarin: you got the poor guy stressed out
Sunarin: look at him
You glance at Hinata out of the corner of your eye. Yachi’s talking to him about something, and he’s nodding and giving the appropriate number of ‘ Uh-huh ’s, but his eyes are drifting toward you repeatedly, gaze on your thighs and chest and hips before he’s remembering to keep his eyes on Yachi. He shifts, swallowing hard and blinking rapidly.
Your stomach flips when you realize that Hinata really is checking you out.
Would you sleep with Hinata? You really like him as a person, and you trust him enough. But you’re not sure that sleeping with any of your friends’ friends is a good idea, in case things get weird. But – on the other hand – you do trust the people that you’ve gotten to know over the years, the Black Jackals all great guys. You don’t know if you’re ready to try to snag some guy you don’t know at all – that’s more likely to end badly.
You sigh, taking a sip of your drink. You just got here. You should wait it out, test all the waters and see what calls to you. Hinata’s very cute, but you shouldn’t jump his bones just because he’s giving you attention.
He’s a friend , you remind yourself. And the party’s just starting.
You talk to Yachi and Hinata for a long while, and – when Osamu finally builds the courage to cross the room and engage Yachi in conversation – you’re left with Hinata. You fall into easy conversation with him for almost an hour, laughing and smiling and leaning against him when your head starts to get a little fuzzy. He cracks jokes and tells stories excitedly and asks about your shop and life, and you feel incredibly fond of him.
So fond, in fact, that you’ve unconsciously decided that Hinata’s not the right guy for this. You really do like him, and you really do like the energy you have together, but that makes a one-night stand with him incredibly unappealing. You’re not desperate enough to risk the friendship you seem to be solidifying with him right now.
So when you glance up and find that Kageyama Tobio has arrived and is glancing awkwardly at Hinata while he talks to Atsumu, you smile at the ginger next to you.
“You shouldn’t let me keep you, Shou,” You say, and he smiles at the nickname. “I’m sure there’s someone here who you’d have a better time with.”
He furrows a brow, so you tilt your head in Kageyama’s direction. When he sees his old friend standing there, he swallows and flushes.
“Mm-” He laughs, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” You nudge him. “Go.”
He eyes you, seeing that you seem set on not letting things between you go anywhere. And then he nods, snaking an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Okay, fine. But I better hear about whose heart you break tonight.”
You laugh, squeezing his arm as he goes. And then you sigh, a bit resigned. It was the best choice, you know it.
Your phone buzzes.
[12:11 AM]
Sunarin: WHERE IS HE GOING
Sunarin: GO GET THAT SMALL MAN
You snort into your cup, eyeing him. He’s still on that couch, but he’s not speaking to anyone, just staring at his phone and glaring at you when he sees you looking.
Sunarin: he was ready to risk it all for you bro
You shake your head.
You: hes my friend, i couldnt do it
Sunarin: you wont fuck a friend?? thats like 85% of the ppl here!!
You: NOT THAT ONE
Sunarin: christ,,,, okay get back out there, soldier
Sunarin: I expect to walk past one of these rooms in the next hour and hear you having the time of your life
You: youre so heinous
You stand, heading toward the kitchen for another drink. You feel Suna watching you, but when you glance at him, he’s scrolling on his phone and ignoring everyone who approaches him. You text him when you get to the kitchen, head down.
You: should we just go?
You: i dont wanna keep you waiting
Sunarin: i mean this in the nicest way possible
Sunarin: stop being stupid
Sunarin: bc i will block you
You: hello??
Sunarin: idgaf how long i sit here
Sunarin: find a man and fuck him
Sunarin: that is your assignment
You: sir yes sir
You look up, intending to scan the room for your liquor of choice. Instead, standing in the corner by the other doorway, in a group of four guys, is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. You have no clue who he is, but he’s got dark hair and a cool smile and piercings, and you are utterly stopped in your tracks.
He catches it, glancing over at you and nodding in greeting. You smile tightly and move to the counter, pouring out the first thing you can find. You text Suna discreetly, something incredibly elegant.
You: AHAAWEFJAWOIFEJKAE FUCK
The counter where you stand is actually a bar with beams on the side, so the living room is entirely visible from here. You see Suna perk up, his head lifting as he peers over someone’s head to meet your eyes. He glances over your shoulder at the group, but you go back to pouring your drink while you calm your nerves, so you don’t see his reaction.
There’s fervent whispering behind you, and then footsteps. You spot three of the guys passing into the living room, so you glance back.
The beautiful man is still leaning against the opposite counter, but he’s got his phone out, invested in something he’s looking at. You see the three guys looking generally in your direction, and you wonder if maybe they’ve left their friend here on purpose. You glance at him again and then steel your nerves, turning carefully.
“Whatcha drinking?”
The guy’s eyes flick to yours, his brow lifting. He lowers his phone but doesn’t put it away, and he smiles at you. “Rum and coke. You?”
“Uhm-” You laugh. “I have no idea. I think there’s tequila in it.”
He grins easy. “Oof. Tequila always gets me. Kinda scared of it.”
You smile into your cup as you take a sip.
Across the room, Suna watches you talk to a guy he doesn’t recognize. There’s a weird feeling in his chest, the kind of bad feeling he’d always get around your exes. He watches the group of guys that have just come out, seeing that they’re eyeing you and whispering.
Then one laughs, and he knows this isn’t good.
He stands, moving toward Atsumu without taking his eyes off of you. You’ve stepped a little closer to the guy, and Suna feels his heart hurt a bit. You’re putting yourself out there, and the guy you’re doing it with is bad news.
“Miya,” He says, cutting Atsumu off where he is struggling to keep a good distance between himself and Sakusa. The blond looks up, clearly drunk.
“Hah?”
“Who are those guys?” He points with his cup, and Atsumu stands, squinting.
“Oh, I dunno. I think they’re friends of Bo’s.” Atsumu points toward Bokuto, who’s telling a story excitedly to a large group of people. “You know how he is. Always meetin’ people and makin’ friends. I let them up like 20 minutes ago, maybe?”
Suna swallows, watching how the guy you talk to lifts a brow at you. You must have tried to say something flirty, but he’s not taking it well. He’s starting to look like he’s looking down on you.
Atsumu hums, seeing it, too. “Want me to go over there?” His voice is clearer than it had been a minute ago.
“No, I got it.” Suna’s gone before he finishes the sentence, moving quickly.
Atsumu watches him go and then finds his brother in the crowd, sitting with Yachi. Samu’s looking over his shoulder, trailing after Suna, and then he turns. The brothers lock eyes, sharing a knowing smirk. Samu just shrugs, and Atsumu shrugs back.
Whatever Suna’s about to do, there’s no stopping it.
In the kitchen, you realize that this guy’s resolutely uninterested in you when a girl comes into the room and his attention is entirely gone.
You look, seeing that this unassuming girl is exactly what you’d expected. You glance at the guy again, finding a hungry gaze that trails over her body. Your stomach drops a bit, and you look over your shoulder toward his friends.
They’re standing at the bar, peeking at you and snickering to each other.
Oh.
Right.
You stare down into your cup, wondering when you’d let your guard down.
It hurts a little more than expected.
You smile up at the guy one last time, raising your cup to him.
“It was good to meet you.”
“Uh-huh,” He mutters, not listening. You blink and turn away, heading to leave. You can’t help but look at the girl as you go, seeing how beautiful she is. She looks up, smiling kindly at you, and you smile back. She seems sweet.
You go to pass her, leaving the way you came in.
“Y/n.”
You jump, turning back. Suna’s standing at the other door, by the guy you’d been talking to, his face relaxed but his eyes sharp. Only now do you realize they kind of look alike.
What is he doing?
“Oh-”
“There you are,” He smiles easily, stepping into the room.
Huh?
“Uh-”
“I’ve been looking for you all night.”
The guy looks between you and Suna. You look between him and Suna. The girl leaves with her drink, entirely unaware.
“Oh… Really?” You look out toward the living room, finding the other guys also watching Suna with confusion.
“Yeah. I was hoping you’d come,” He replies easily, stepping toward you.
His eyes flick down toward a spot on the floor that’s closer to him, and you drift there, eyeing him. He moves around you and reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring himself a drink. He offers it to you, too.
You watch him glance over your shoulder at the group of guys, and you realize he’d turned you around and put himself in view of them. So they could see him.
Why?
“Sure,” You say, curious to see where this goes, and tilt your cup toward him. “Thanks, Suna.”
“Rin,” He responds, tilting his head to smile down at you, flirty and cheeky in a way you’d never seen from him. “You can call me Rin.”
You almost snort. “Okay. Rin.”
“I missed you last weekend,” Suna says, making a point to drag his eyes down the length of your body before he takes a sip of his drink.
You lift a brow, smirking up at him. He’s the only one who can see the teasing look you give him before you respond, playing into his game.
“Really? I couldn’t tell by the five missed calls. I was sleeping, by the way. It was one in the morning.”
He smiles at your line, and you can tell it’s genuine. He shrugs, holding eye contact and leaning in a little. “What can I say? I know what I like.”
“What you like…” You smile down into your cup, nodding. “And what would that be, Rin ?”
“Well-” He swallows, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he eyes you. “This dress, for one.” And then he slides his free hand over your waist, playing with the material. “It looks really good on you.”
His eyes have darkened by the time you meet them again, and it makes you a little nervous to realize that you’re unsure if it’s real or not. Your mind flashes to how he’d watched you bend over in front of your mirror earlier. Your fingers start to tingle.
Someone comes in behind you, and you use it as an excuse to look away from Suna and glance over your shoulder. The guy you’d been talking to is still there, but he’s got his eyes on your dress, interest lingering around your thighs.
You quirk a brow and turn back to Suna, feeling annoyed that this guy had only found you worth looking at once another guy had. Suna eyes you briefly, and you read the expression.
Want me to leave you with him?
He doesn’t look happy about the idea – you’re not happy about the idea – but you can tell he’s hesitating to continue, because the guy is paying you attention now.
He must not realize that you’d lost interest in that guy the moment his gaze had drifted. It’s Suna’s attention you’re nervous about now.
Still, you know that he’d only come to show that group of guys that you’re worth considering, so you tamper the feeling and lean into his game again.
You step close to him, watching how his eyes light up a bit, and slide a hand over his bicep. You make a point to trace the outline of one of his tattoos there, watching with a smile as goosebumps form wherever you scratch your nail gently against his skin.
“Is there something you wanted, Rin?” You look up at him through your eyelashes when you ask, wide and innocent.
You see the exact moment that something changes.
Suna’s eyes widen marginally and drop to your lips, green eyes heavy on you as he pulls his lip ring between his teeth and plays with it. His hand tightens on your waist, fingers pressing into your lower back and pulling you toward him.
“Just…” His gaze flicks between your mouth and your eyes. “Wanted to see if we could make up for lost time. Maybe somewhere more private?”
Suna Rintarou means to pull you into one of Atsumu’s spare rooms.
You blink, a sudden flush rising on your cheeks as your stomach flips. You squeeze his bicep, anchoring yourself to him. He just stares at your mouth.
You nod after a moment, poking your tongue out to wet your lips. He watches it. “Okay… That sounds good.”
His eyes snap to yours, suddenly filled with something that hadn’t been there before. When he sets his cup on the counter and steps around you, hand finding yours and pulling you after him, you realize it’s urgency. You barely manage to put your drink down without spilling it.
All four guys watch you get dragged out of the room and toward an open door not even 15 feet away.
You have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen.
You step into the room, closing the door with your free hand. “What are we-”
Suna spins, planting both hands on your hips and pinning you hard against the door. You gasp, eyes wide, and he lifts one hand and sets it on the door next to your head.
“I want to kiss you,” He says bluntly, breathing out hard. “Do you want to kiss me?”
You blink, lips parted, searching his face. You only find heat in his eyes, and it makes a spot under your navel tingle.
Do you want to kiss him?
“Yes,” You whisper, nodding shallowly. “Yeah-Yes.”
He breathes slowly, eyes dropping to your mouth.
There’s a moment of nothing, one where all you can hear is the muffled music and laughter through the door, the space between you and Suna Rintarou completely silent.
And then he’s surging forward.
You cannot, for the life of you, understand why you hadn’t thought of doing this before.
He pushes his lips against yours with force, full and impatient. You throw your arms around his neck, angling your head. The hand he has on the door comes to cup the back of your head, holding you tight against him, and you card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching your nails against his scalp.
Suna pulls back with a sharp inhale, his mouth hovering over yours. You blink hazily, your head fuzzy and warm.
“ Oh… ” You mumble.
“ More? ” He breathes, sounding just as shaken. The hand on your lower back pulls you flush against him, and you feel something pressing against your thigh. Your skin hums with anticipation, and you nod, your eyes still half-closed.
“More’s good…”
Your back hits the door and your hair’s being tangled around his fingers, head pulled to the side as his mouth finds your throat. The ring on his lip is cold between your flushed skin and the burn of his mouth, and his tongue passing over your pulse as he nips at the spot has a weak whimper falling past your lips.
“ Louder ,” He murmurs, the vibration echoing through your throat and down to your toes. He sucks harder on the spot just under your jaw, and you moan properly and in his ear. “Good, just like that,” He bites down and then swipes his tongue over it, soothing and warm. “Want them to hear you.”
Your heart pounds, and you cling to his shoulders, letting out a noise of confusion.
“Who?”
“You know exactly who.”
You remember that you’d just been talking to some other guy, that his friends had been making fun of you.
You’d already forgotten.
“Why do you-” You gasp, shuddering when he pulls your hips toward him, pressing his own against you. He’s hard– He’s already hard, and you haven’t done anything. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Why do you want them to…”
Suna suckles at a spot under your ear before lifting his head and planting his lips on yours. His hand leaves the safety of your waist and slips up past your ribs. You push your chest out, silently urging him to keep going.
“I want them to-” He swears under his breath as his hand closes around your breast, fingers kneading gently. He kisses you hard. “-know what they’re missing. How badly they fucked up.”
You’re out of breath when he pulls away, and you circle your arms tightly around his neck so you can lift onto your tiptoes and kiss him again. He touches you urgently, thumb brushing over your nipple once and then again when you mewl into his mouth. He drops his lips to your throat again, freeing you to make as much noise as you need.
You sigh loudly, because his other hand is falling to your waist and tugging at your dress. The material slides up your body, exposing your thighs and then even more to him. He leaves it around your hips, fingertips dancing down to your panties.
“Can I-” He hooks two fingers into the band, mouth hot on your skin as he heaves out an unsteady breath. You nod furiously, not a single thought of how you look or feel passing through your head. Not a single thought that he might not want this, because you can feel so plainly against your bare thigh that he does.
Later, you won’t be able to name a single other time you hadn’t been self-conscious in the exact same situation with different men.
He tugs your panties unceremoniously down to your thighs, fingers trembling just slightly when he presses them against your inner thigh. You whimper as he pushes your thighs apart, cold air rushing against your core and sending a jolt of realization through you.
You haven’t been touched by someone else in over a year.
“Wait, Suna-” Your protest is muffled against his lips. “I’m not gonna-I won’t last long-”
“Good,” He breathes, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “Fucking good . I don’t want you to last-” He pushes his mouth to a million different places in quick succession, almost like he’s losing his mind just as fast as you are. His fingers hover between your thighs, cold against your heated skin. “Just want you to come, just to take the edge off.” He kisses you forcefully and murmurs against your lips. “ Just want you to come for me .”
He pulls away just in time for a moan to fall past your lips, ringing through the room. It’s embarrassing how loud it is, how desperately you’d reacted to his words alone. But Suna just smiles breathlessly down at you, face open and honest and eyes gleaming with a wicked anticipation that makes you tremble a bit.
He’s still holding eye contact when he presses against your core, his two middle fingers sliding through your folds.
You gasp so loud that it spills into a moan, and your head falls back against the door with a hard thump , his name ripped from your throat in something close to a scream.
“ Suna- ”
“ Fuck, ” He groans, dropping his head to your shoulder and sliding his fingers against you again. “Fuck, you feel so good-”
“S-Suna-” You cry again, fisting the sleeves of his t-shirt with white knuckles. “Oh, my God-”
He latches onto the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there as he swipes the pads of his fingers against your clit. “Don’t call me Su- fuck -” He cuts short, because your hips are moving on their own, rocking against his fingers. The tip of his middle finger catches on your entrance, and you gasp loudly, pushing your chest against his as you stare up at the ceiling with wide eyes.
You don’t understand. You don’t understand why this feels so good, why you can’t get this feeling on your own. Why the thought that the man doing this to you is Suna Rintarou makes your nerves tumble and twist and tug at the coil that’s warping under your navel, under his touch. You hadn’t thought to want him before, not really, because he’s Suna . Your Sunarin, your piece of home.
And he’s making you feel something no one before him ever had.
You don’t think you can come back from this.
All rational thought flies from your mind when Suna brushes his middle finger against your entrance again, with purpose this time. You gasp, clinging tight.
“ Su- ” He shoves his mouth against yours, murmuring his own name, murmuring ‘ Rin, call me Rin’ against you, suckling on your bottom lip. He pulls away to watch you again, to find your eyes like he had last time.
And then he pushes his finger into you, slowly and then all at once.
“ Oh, ” You gasp, your eyelids fluttering. “Rin- ”
He pulls out, crooking his finger, and then slides back in, nodding as his palm slaps against your clit. “ ‘s good, baby ,” He mumbles, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “ Again, just like that .”
You think the scream of his name when he slams his fingers into you repeatedly is loud enough to be heard over the whole party. He laughs against your throat, humming, and pushes a second finger in, drawing another moan out of you as his fingers reach places that yours never can. “That’s it, let them hear you.”
The coil in your navel twists viciously when something cold and metal slides against your thighs with each thrust of his fingers into you, because you’re realizing that it’s the bracelet – the bracelet that you’d given him those handful of years ago, the friendship bracelet that you have in your jewelry box at home.
You don’t think your past self would ever believe this is where that bracelet is now.
Suna pants against your skin, still rock hard against your thigh. “Let them hear how good I make you feel ,” He breathes, and your heart skips, that coil yanking.
“Oh, I’m gonna-” You gasp, fumbling to tug at his shirt, to tell him. He lifts his head to look at you.
And then he promptly yanks his fingers out of you.
You jerk at the feeling, and your heart sinks as your orgasm starts to fade. All you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes, the disappointment written all over your face, because you don’t know what you did to deserve that.
It turns quickly to confusion when Suna spins you around, and suddenly your face is pressed against the door, hips pulled out toward him. You gasp, planting your hands on the door to steady yourself, your face rushed with heat at being bent over in front of him.
That moment in front of your mirror had not prepared you for this.
“What-”
“Please-can I-” He asks, the clink of his belt and then the zipper of his jeans loud as he yanks on it, and you nod against the door.
“Yes, yes please,” You beg, pushing your hips back more.
“ Shit ,” He swears under his breath. “I wanna do this better-” You jump when something hot brushes between your thighs, something hot and incredibly hard. “-Later, when we get home, I wanna-” He pushes the head of his cock gently through your folds, and his groan mixes with the choked moan you let out against the door.
“Just wanna get you off once before we go, just wanna make you come once around me,” He finally gets out, hissed through his teeth as he guides himself to your entrance. “‘s that okay? Can I?”
You whimper loudly, nodding again and throwing his own words back at him, desperate and begging.
“ T-Take the edge-jus’ to take the edge off- ” You stutter through it, your heart doing leaps and your nerves on fire. You push your hips back against him, whining when he brushes against you again.
Suna groans, and he pushes his hand against the door by your face as he drops his forehead to your shoulder, that bracelet staring you dead in the eye.
“Fuck ,” He whispers, shaking his head. “Fuck , Y/n. You-”
He slips the head of his cock past your entrance, sliding into you slowly.
You stop being able to feel your legs.
Suna moans your name, low and in your ear, and your eyes roll back into your head at the sound.
Why had you gone so long without hearing him say your name like that?
“ Rin ,” You whimper, and he presses a kiss to a spot behind your ear.
“You’re driving me insane,” He murmurs. “Why didn’t you believe me earlier? Why couldn’t you believe me? Can’t you see now how badly I want you?” He starts to pant in your ear, because he’s drawing his hips back with a hiss and then pushing back in slowly. “Fuck, you’re too-”
You suck in a breath when his fingers find your clit, his hips stilling. You moan, feeling yourself clench around him. Feeling, for the first time in a year, truly full in the way that you’d craved.
You clench around him again, and he groans into your neck.
“You’re gonna make me come if you don’t stop doing that,” He pleads, breathing hard against your ear.
“ Why won’t you move ?” You whine, unable to help it.
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your skin. “You want the romantic answer or the realistic one?”
You can’t help but giggle, because he’s making a stupid, Suna-flavored joke in a moment like this. “The romantic one.”
You feel him smile wide, even as the pads of his fingers slide against your clit, the little bundle of nerves that makes you twitch.
“I just wanna get you off, I don’t care about myself right now.,” He tries, laughing a little. “It doesn’t matter – all that matters is you, and I can get you off just like this.” He circles your clit again, and your laugh is breathy and sensitive.
“And the realistic one?” You smile when he bites down on your shoulder briefly.
“You’re so tight that it actually hurt when I tried to move,” He explains, and you clench unintentionally. “Come on , Y/n, don’t do this-” He swipes his fingers against you faster now, trying to get you close.
It doesn’t take long, not with Suna’s fingers on the most sensitive part of your body. Not with him buried inside you, throbbing and twitching with every whine and moan that falls past your lips. Not with his mouth pressed to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine and his quiet groans making your toes curl.
“ Come on, baby, ” He whispers, pushing his fingertips against you. “ Let me take the edge off, just like you said. Let me do this for you. ”
Your moan comes out as more of a sob, and your eyes feel a bit wet. The coil in your navel tightens and pulls with every word.
“ Come around me, Y/n. I wanna feel it– I wanna feel you- ”
You gasp, your nails scratching against the door as your fingers curl into fists, and your voice is clear and sharp for the first time in a while. “Su-Suna, I’m-”
-close, I’m close-
“Fuck, I think I am, too-” He admits, even though he hasn’t moved an inch. He shudders against you, breath shaky. “You first, so I can pull out-”
“ Mm-mm- ” You protest. “ ‘s safe, ‘s fine, I’m- ”
You don’t have the time or energy to explain that you’ve been on birth control for years, but it doesn’t matter, because he groans. He understands.
“Are you sure-” He chokes, and you hear a low whine in his throat. The sound pushes you to the edge, and you teeter there, sobbing.
“ Please, please, I’m-Suna- ”
You gasp sharply, because he’s lifting his chest off your back and straightening you up, pulling your back against him. He clamps his hand down tight over your mouth, turning your head so you’re forced to look up into his eyes.
“ This one’s mine ,” He breathes, his fingers swiping viciously against you as he holds that cursed eye contact. “ No one hears this but me .”
The coil snaps, and your eyes roll back in your head.
Your vision goes white, and your ears ring, the sound deafening as your body jerks, your fingers scratching and digging into his arms for stability. You feel the scream in your throat, but you don’t hear it, can’t hear anything except the low, muffled groan Suna presses into the side of your head. He twitches inside you, and then you’re warm as he comes, filling you in a way that steals the last gasp of breath from your lungs.
He holds you tight until you both come down, arms wrapped around you. The hand on your mouth falls, curling around the side of your head and cradling you against him. The shuddering breaths you let out mix with his, and he sets his mouth on yours, unable to put the effort into kissing you properly.
After a moment, your arms fall limp, dropping away from him, and your head slumps against his shoulder. He slides carefully out of you, holding you steady when you whimper and sway a bit. Then he reaches down, tugging your panties back up your legs and fixing your dress.
You turn in place, forehead pressed to his chest, and straighten him out with your eyes half-closed. He shivers when you wrap your fingers around him and tuck him back into his pants, and his hand cradles your neck, a kiss pressed to the top of your head while you button and zip his jeans.
When you lift your head to look at him, there’s no need to ask him to kiss you. He drops his head without a word, lips just as soft on yours as they’d been the first time.
“How you feel?” He asks, quiet against your mouth.
“Boneless, ” You say right away, and he smiles against you before pulling away.
“ Boneless, or tired ?” He prompts.
You shake your head. You don’t feel tired at all, your nerves still humming under your skin. “Just boneless.”
“Then,” He starts. “Can you find your bones on the way down to my bike?”
There’s a jolt in your body when you realize what he’s saying. That he’s taking you home.
“Yeah, I-” You swallow, meeting his eyes.
He doesn’t look tired, either.
“I think I can manage that,” You whisper, staring up at him.
A grin spreads across his face, wicked and terrifying in the way that only he is.
“I’m ready when you are,” is all he says.
You cling to him as he leads you out of the room and to the elevator, unable to process anything but him. Unable to process the way Hinata whispers ‘ Heartbreaker ’ warmly to you as you pass, or the way the twins give you matching grins of pride when you find them across the room. Definitely not the guy that you’d tried talking to, staring down at you when Suna shoves past him and all but carries you into the elevator.
All you can do is hold tight to him and trust that he’ll get you back to his place.
He kisses the spot under your ear when the elevator reaches the first floor.
“Come on,” He mumbles against your skin as the doors slide open. “I still gotta fuck you stupid.”
Your face burns as he drags you out of Atsumu’s building and to his bike, unable to imagine how what had just happened doesn’t count as fucking you stupid.
What’ve you just gotten yourself into?
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— cake by the ocean 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃
pairing: harvey specter × reader
summary: birthday + boyfriend + beach = recipe for pleasure
warnings: smut LOL (hopefully tasteful?) (thigh riding, making out, etc.) (also tense changes? yikers so sorry gang)
wordcount: idk girl i wrote this on my phone (edit: 2.4k)
a/n: as i type this, i am sat on the beach in thailand. i'm thinking of being here with harvey. i hope u enjoy but honestly, this one is entirely for myself <3 — can be read as a continuation to beach getaway or as a standalone
(if you want to be tagged in future fics or if you have any requests, let me know! for my other fics, here's my masterlist!)
"towels?"
"got them."
"flip-flops?"
"got them, too."
"sungla-"
"sunglasses, water, snacks, spf, digital camera and polaroid camera. got them all, baby. don't you trust me?"
you look over at harvey, seeing his incredibly smug smile, and raise one eyebrow. "is it a crime to want to be prepared?" you ask incredulously. this was not the first time you'd been to the beach together, but you were always meticulous. something was always left behind and you hated paying the inflated rate for anything at the beach.
"i promise you, y/n, i have prepared. i won't let anything ruin your beach day, especially today," he told you, his tone blunt and smug, but still tender.
it was your birthday and you wanted to spend it at the beach with your boyfriend. you'd always felt a pull to the ocean, feeling most at peace and like yourself by the water, so what better place to spend your day. harvey agreed, and made a trip out of it, renting a beachside cottage for the two of you for a long weekend, even taking a few days off work and vowing to turn his phone off.
you huffed in response to his words but didn't argue further. worst case, you'd have to walk back to the cottage. it wasn't far at all, literally just across a footpath.
harvey took your face in his hands and smiled down at you, lovingly, tenderly. "i love you. let's go have a kickass, but relaxing, beach day."
you smile up at him excitedly and take one of his hands in yours, dragging him to the door, bag in tow. "then let's go! go! go!"
───────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────
the walk wasn't far at all. you walked out the front door and across a footpath and there it was. a patch of soft golden sand and an expanse of water. you gasped and immediately pulled your phone out to take a picture of the view. harvey continued walking ahead, clearly in such a rush, so you took the opportunity to take a sneaky picture of him with the beautifully serene backdrop and quickly set it to your phone wallpaper.
suddenly too excited to wait any longer, you stripped off your thin t-shirt and threw it at the back of his head, leaving you in just your bikini top and denim mini-skirt.
"bet you can't catch me!" you shout towards him as you zoom past, straight towards the water with your phone still in hand. harvey just chuckled and followed behind, not running due to the bags in his hands and the need to stop and pick up your discarded t-shirt.
once you reached your loungers, you threw your phone down and stripped off your skirt, ready to go straight into the water. by this time, harvey had caught up to and was placing the bags down on one of the side tables. you heard him wolf-whistle and giggled, flattered since it was your boyfriend doing the whistling and not a stranger.
"looking super sexy, baby," he told you, stars in his eyes. you were wearing a white triangular bikini top with matching bottoms, cheeky but not obscene, and you felt good. the white emphasised your tan and your hair hung down your back in waves, making you feel like a mermaid goddess. you smiled in response to his comment, shaking your head slightly. "why don't we skip the ocean and just have sex on the beach?" he winked suggestively, causing you to snort.
"you're so stupid, that was terrible," you giggle.
you started walking to the water, ready to get in and have a soak, when you felt a pair of toned, strong arms circling your waist and before you knew it, you were up in the air.
"let me down, let me down!" you shriek, still giggling happily even though your feet weren't on the ground.
"as you wish, baby," harvey replied, voice deeper and tone filled with mischief. he started to jog a little until he was deep enough in the water to drop you.
"don't even think about it, harvey specter," you warned unconvincingly.
he dropped you in the water.
and he was in hysterics over it.
you couldn't help but join him. after all, you did want a soak. you looked up at him from the water and noticed that he was still fully clothed. you smiled at him, now sharing in his mischief and grabbed his arm, pulling him down to join you. his white t-shirt soaked through, exposed his buff upper body.
"all that boxing's really working out for you, huh?" you tease, throwing him a wink as your way of returning his earlier favour.
"oh yeah? working out for me or for you?" he asked, equally as cheeky.
he started stripping off his, now soaked, shirt and you can tell he's trying to be playfully seductive. you play along and wolf-whistle, the way he did to you, followed by pretending to rain money on him as if he was your favourite stripper in a club. he was laughing and amped it up, holding it above his head and swinging it like a lasso.
"god, you're such an idiot, harvey specter."
"you love me for it."
"sigh. i suppose i do."
he comes closer to you in the water and picks you up with ease, forcing you to wrap your legs around him. you snake your fingers into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. he's been growing it out slightly, per your request, and he's gone without gel today so his hair is holding the most precious wave.
"hi," you whisper, smiling as he leans in to kiss you.
"hey," he whispers back before catching your lips in a sweet and tender kiss.
well, it had started sweet and tender. but both of your half nudity mixed into the semi-public setting meant that it didn't stay that way for long. his tongue traced the seam of your lips and you graciously opened your mouth for him. you tugged his hair lightly from the root, causing him to groan. the sensation made you moan in response and your legs tightened around him. one of his hands tangled into your hair, not pulling it but just staying there. your kiss grew more aggressive and messy, moving together in a dance of passion and desire.
you pulled away, lips swollen and panting slightly, before immediately latching onto his neck, sucking and biting your way down until reaching the point where his neck and shoulder meet. you follow through on your overwhelming urge to bite him here, and he groaned again in response.
"what are you, a fuckin' vampire?" he asked, seemingly frustrated, but not with you directly. you only smile against his skin before he pulled your head back up by your hair. "we should stop here before anyone accidentally walking by gets a very x-rated show."
you sigh and jump off him, still staying close to him and holding his hand. the pair of you walk back to the loungers and you settle on yours, soaking up the sun. you hear harvey settle onto his and looking over at him, shamelessly checking him out from behind your sunglasses.
"c'mere." he gestures to his own lounger and you playfully grumble, as if you weren't silently praying that he'd offer.
you resettle on his lounger, straddling him while he sat back into the backrest.
he was still half-hard.
you smiled to yourself and he could instantly tell why. his face flushed and he just mumbled a noncommittal 'shut up' even though you hadn't said anything. you decided to taunt and tease him anyway, starting to very slowly and barely noticeably move back and forth against him. he winced and placed his hands on your hips, trying to stop your movements. he was unsuccessful and you were able to keeping grinding against him until he was painfully hard against you.
you flipped your hair to one side and leaned in closer to him. "do you think we could get off just like this?" you asked seductively, biting your bottom lip and a challenging glint in your eyes.
harvey never backed down from a challenge. you both knew this. as he watched you work your hips back and forth against him, like an erotic poem come to life on top of him, he knew this would be no different. "no reason why we can't try," he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss.
his kiss burned you from the inside out. it electrified your soul. his lips worked against yours in a way that perfectly mirrored the movement of your hips. his hand wound back into your hair but this time, he did pull it. he pulled it from the root, the way you loved, and he simultaneously bit your lower lip. the combination caused a broken moan to escape your lips and the movement of your hips stuttered.
you pulled away and grabbed his arms, pulling his hand from your hair, and pinned his hands against the cushion of the lounger. your movements against him became more forceful and purposeful after you removed his distractions.
"i'm in control now. this is for me, for my birthday," you tell him, voice gravelly. he could only nod in response but there was a fire set alight in his eyes as he watched you take your own pleasure.
your body burned with desire as you chased your high, using harvey's body in the way he once taught you to use a pillow. your movements became frantic once again as you craved more friction.
"i think your poor cunt needs my cock, baby. she won't be satisfied otherwise," he taunted from underneath you. his words sent a shiver down your spine and you shuddered, feeling yourself get even wetter.
"i disagree," you reply, trying (and failing) to reach an orgasm without his help. unfortunately, he'd practically ruined you and you knew it would be better with him. regardless, you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
without you realising, he'd slipped one hand out of your hold. he used his thumb to slightly pull back your bikini bottoms, sticky with your arousal. you moaned and rolled your hips into him in response, happy to have one less barrier. he moved to remove his shorts, but you shook your head and instead just pushed them up his leg on one side, leaving his thigh bare.
"what are you-" you cut him off by rolling your hips against his thigh once, twice, three times, and then just riding the thick muscle. "oh, fuck," he choked out, clearly shocked at your actions. but his shock didn't stop you. "y/n, you're dripping all over my thigh, baby. you're making such a mess."
you moan and increase the speed in which that mess was spreading. you were panting and hair was starting to stick to your face from sweat induced by, both, the sun and your desire.
"want it like this, please," you whine, very obviously needy. "please, i need to cum."
"do you want my help?" harvey asked in return, his voice a rich baritone that only made you (and your pussy) need him more. you nod pathetically and whimper to emphasise your point and the look he gives you is dominant and slightly condescending, mock pout adorning his handsome face. "poor baby, you need something from me? thought you wanted me to keep my hands off, hm?"
"no, i- i didn't know. you always know what i need, harvey, please." your movements on his thigh become sloppy, the increased moisture making it hard to feel anything. harvey took pity on you and used one hand to still your hips, causing you to whine again. but his other hand he brought to your wet pussy and used your arousal against your clit, stimulating it so deliciously.
"fuck, harvey, please," you breathily moaned, head thrown back slightly in pleasure, showing off the marks he'd left on your neck the night before. he groaned at the sight and rubbed circles on your clit faster. he let one hand on your thigh and tapped it, which you took as an indication to move.
with both hands on his deliciously bare and sweaty chest, you started to move your hips again, riding his bare thigh while he circled your clit.
"look at you, baby, so desperate to cum on my thigh," he murmured. "keep moving like that against me, good girl. i'll get you to where you need."
more than his words, his tone of voice was bringing you closer to your climax. you loved when he got dominant like this and talked you through your orgasms. it was truly yummy.
"i'm close," you told him, punctuated with a moan and a long, deliberate roll of your hips against his skin.
"i know, baby. i can feel your sweet cunt clenching around nothing against my thigh. but you didn't want anything inside so you're just going to have to cum like this."
you could feel tears in your eyes as your movements became sloppier, messier, faster, more frantic. his circles against your clit didn't change. they stayed purposefully steady, exactly the contrast you needed.
you threw your head back and moaned loudly as your orgasm hit you. neither your nor his movements halted as you rode your high against his muscled thigh.
"fuck, harvey, harvey, so good, please," you moaned, fireworks shooting through your entire body. he just watched you beautifully rut against him until you eventually stopped, body twitching from overstimulation.
you fell on top of him, skin sticky from sweat and kissed his chest. "thank you," you mumbled quietly, suddenly shy and desperate to hide your face.
harvey tilted your head up by your chin and smiled at you incredibly sweetly. he pulled you up so you were at eye level and leaned in to give you the sweetest kiss, lingering for a few seconds. when he pulled away, he kissed your forehead.
"it was my pleasure."
"i feel bad; that was selfish. let me do something for you, please." your eyes searched his, worried he'd be upset.
"i don't think that's necessary, baby. it was literally my pleasure." he gestured to his crotch and your eyes widened in realisation.
"oh my god, harvey. in your pants?" you giggled, feeling proud of yourself.
"like a fuckin' schoolboy, baby," he admitted, not shy to hold his hands up. "happy birthday, sweet angel. and boy, oh boy, is she sweet."
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whew. not written anything like this in a long time and i don't think i've ever written like this publicly. okay! if you enjoyed it please tell me !!!! i am insecure !!!! i need to know !!!! feel free to comment/reblog and send in requests !!!! my asks are open !!!! or send me a message !!!! ok thank you ily bye !!!!
taglist: @shadowinthedarkknight @strawberriesareprettycool
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