Hiiii!!! Do U Think I Can Request A Karma X Reader Or Just Class E In General With A Bit Of A Princess

hiiii!!! do u think i can request a karma x reader or just Class E in general with a bit of a princess complex, i think itd be a bit funny to imagine how they humble reader or just treat them in general ^‿^

thankk uu and take ur time soz if this request doesnt make sense 😭

‧₊˚ ♡ Princess Complex ♡ ‧₊˚

Karma x Reader with a princess complex

+ general E class / Reader This is so cute, ur kaomoji is so cute! ur so cute! now think I have a princess complex... Trying out a new format ✧ fluff ✧ no warnings hdr by yeonkittiz on Pinterest divider by cafekitsune on here.

Princess complex meaning someone with a “pretty” outlook on life, high expectations, and wanting to be treated like a princess!

Ever since you joined E-class there’s always been one thing that stuck out to your classmates, and that was your “princess mentality.”

It’s not a problem when you’re dating Karma because he’s the type to feed into it. It’s not like you’re actually stuck up or look down on people. You might joke about it the same way he acts overly confident about himself but that’s as far as it goes, so he doesn’t see the harm in giving into you, just a bit!

The negative aspect to having a “princess complex” is your inability to pitch when hard labor is involved. It doesn’t mix well with assassination attempts. This is probably the one thing that bothers the class as a whole.

“[Name], we need you to set the wire trap at the other side of the mountain!”

“That’s so much walking in this heat… and I’m gonna get my shoes all ruined!”

Kataoka has been trying to get you to pitch in a little more, as class rep she feels it’s her job. Whenever she asks you such and say you’ll do it later…and proceed to completely forget about it.

She thought getting Karma to ask would solve things but no you just feel more comfortable straight up rejecting his requests.

“Karma, tell [Name] she has do something.”

“[Name], do something.”

“No.”

“I tried.”

Terasaka has to drag you all the way there, you’re helping wether you want to or not.

Karma’s usually the one having to push you into stuff you can’t bring yourself to.

Nagisa sent you both out to grab some essential items for the next attempt.

“Why can’t you carry it, this is heavyyyy.”

“[Name] I’ve been carrying your bag for the last 20 minutes, it feels like you drag bricks around.”

“Sorry…”

“Don’t sweat it this is light work, but you have to carry something yourself.” (His arms hurt but he’ll never admit that.)

“Alright- I guess I can do it… only because you asked.”

(For once!)

There are classmates who will call you out of the princess fantasy; Terasaka, Maehara (depends on the day tbh), Kataoka.

The teachers, for sure call you out!! Korosensei’s will dote on you but push you to make some effort. You don’t want to spar? He bargains.

“[Name] I know you don’t want to ruin your nails but please participate, if they break, I’ll re do them!!”

Mr. Karasuma just straight out lectures you about how assassination takes getting your hands dirty and takes sacrifice, he eventually gives up and does things your way- he noticed Karma is really good at pissing you off and partnering you up is the perfect way to bring out your potential.

“Scared to mess up your hair? Sounds like a lame excuse, just admit you suck at sparring.”

“YOU’LL EAT YOUR WORDS.” (You ended up loosing, but hey at least you swung this time!)

Ms. Vitch is a bit different, encourages you to continue to have the mindset you do. she adores you because you remind her of herself, she’s got a soft spot! Your #1 supporter. You helped design the assassination uniforms with her.

In contrast there’s classmates who’ll let you live out your princess dreams, Hinano, Isogai (he will encourage you to help out so sweetly it wont feel like he’s trying to humble you when he is.) , Nagisa lets you do your thing, Okajima who’s to big of a simp to complain, Ritsu whose the cutest ever.

With Princess syndrome comes high standards, so Karma’s kinda flattered he fits yours. He’s a bit unsure of himself underneath the front he puts on, having your approval means a lot to him but he won’t admit that out loud.

— sorry I took such a break from posting, please correct my mistakes if you catch any :)

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 ⋮ 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

bridesmaid series ∘ haikyuu mlist ∘ general mlist

In which you, a bridesmaid, come across a groomsman who cannot wait to get away from all the drunk and lovesick fools at the wedding reception, much like yourself ⋮ Alternatively, in which get to know each other while he’s balls deep into you

pairing. miya atsumu x reader

warnings. no reader pronouns, f anatomy! reader, hookups, just a bunch of horny strangers, semi-public touching and grinding a.k.a. inappropriate pda, pet names (darling, sweets, he also keeps calling you cute & pretty), wedgie, masturbation, cockwarming, overstimulation, creampie, pillow talk, pregnancy joke, breast/nipple play

word count. 3.5k

an. this was the first smut I ever wrote (like 4 years back). this is also rewritten & reposted <3

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱

Your bridesmaid flower crown is long-forgone, swept along the late afternoon tide. The midnight blue scarf wrapped loosely around your neck is about the only thing keeping you warm and. Your borderline-sheer bridesmaid dress would’ve definitely suited the beachy occasion if it weren’t for the fact that temperatures this time of the year are starting to drop.

Still, you pay no mind to the cold when the salty breeze beckons you to dip your toes in the sea, leaving your woes behind in a quick attempt to remove yourself from the reception. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. And to think you’re the only one in your friend group who didn’t come with a +1. No wonder you came to the sea for some company when everyone else has just about taken the dancefloor, dancing not alone to some mood music.

You run your fingers through your hair, pulling it back in a lazy attempt at keeping it in place while you indulge in the ocean breeze. The cold wind kisses your now exposed back, hairs on your nape prickling as you close your eyes and tilt your chin up, baring your neck to the chilly sensation on your skin.

Snapping you out of your daze is the wind snagging the scarf off your neck — the garment didn’t go far but tides have started to be unforgiving at this hour.

It takes you a few good seconds to decide if it’s worth the risk of getting your dress wet, let alone accidentally drowning with no one aware of your whereabouts. Only, anyone who could save you is either drunk or lovesick.

Screw it. You reach for the hems of your dress, holding them up to your knees, about ready to brave the 2-feet-high seawater.

And as if the sea gods had just answered your plea, you freeze in place when you hear a snicker coming from behind you, the apparent source of it walking past you, beating you to your scarf.

It’s one of the groomsmen from your now friend-in-law’s side of the family. Dirty blonde with a clean black undercut, white dress shirt that’s four, five buttons undone, exposing his toned chest.

You wonder how long he was able to make a spectacle of you before rushing to your aid when you realize he’s already barefoot and had more than enough time to take off his shoes and socks. Funny, he didn’t even bother to fold his beige pants before charging on. He shoots you a smirk before picking up your scarf, gently wringing the saltwater out. His shins splash against the tides as he makes his way over to you, looking far too amused for someone whose getup had been needlessly soiled by the ocean.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you, uhm—”

“Atsumu?” He says it like it’s a sarcastic reminder, as if his name is something you’re already supposed to know. “Seemed like an important scarf, and uh — you can thank me tomorrow over dinner.”

You thank the sea gods for answering your prayers even though it almost took a human sacrifice (you) in order for them to grant you company — and someone so easy on the eyes too.

“I feel like I’ve seen this already,” half-impressed, half-suspicious, you say as you take your scarf back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, in Hercules or the ones you see in clichés. You know… the whole damsel in distress trope? Then the hero conveniently hears her distress call, comes to her rescue, and they both get wet for it.”

“Darling, you barely even dipped in the water. I didn’t get you wet, did I?”

Your lips purse in amusement, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek as you chuckle. “Just a little. But don’t worry, you don’t have to commit.”

“But what if I want to?”

“Then I guess we could look into it after dinner tomorrow. I’m ___. Nice to meet you, Atsumu.”

“Scarf and a date. Must be your lucky day. Pick you up at 8?”

“Sure, but promise me you’ll change into something dry.”

That earns you yet another snicker from him. “I will if you will.”

Your planning is interrupted by the sound of roaring cheers and clinking bottles apparently for someone who had just passed out. It’s ridiculous since it’s only been barely a few hours into the afterparty.

“Whad’ya know. And it’s only 6 o’clock,” you huff out knowing you have to sit through more of these tonight, already mentally exhausted at the thought.

“To think there’s going to be 5 more hours of this or so.”

As if the gods hadn’t blessed you enough today, you find your would-be date as engrossed at the scenery as you. It turns out, he’s as impressed with you as you are with him. His face instantly switches from a scowl to an inquisitive one with a cocked brow. You swear you hear his thoughts as clear as day asking you ‘you thinking what I’m thinking?’.

In case the message didn’t come across, he holds a hand out, asking you again, “Wanna get outta here?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

…

Like some horny teenagers who had just gotten off prom, you find yourselves hand-in-hand running through endless corridors, leaving trails of giggles and sand past concerned staff and other guests on your way to your hotel room.

You try your hardest to brush off your pseudo-savior's eagerness while still in public. But with the way he keeps kissing the back of your hand and persists on planting kisses atop your shoulder every time anything blocks your way, you can’t help the lewd sounds that escape your lips.

The knowing looks that come your way don’t help either, not when Atsumu is just keen on trying you in every torturous way possible as some form of pre-foreplay.

Atsumu is ruthless even as you enter the elevator that had a family and a few other guests on board. He leads you to the back in his half-hearted attempt to be discreet.

Still a couple floors away, he passes the time by snaking both hands around your waist, pressing you up against his chest. As if timed right at the ding of the elevator, you feel two fingers pinch your ass, making your breath hitch a tiny squeak, forcing you to cover your mouth, and it takes everything in you not to take him on then and there.

“Atsumu, stop,” quietly, you plead, chuckling between syllables.

Ding, the elevator goes again, and for revenge, you grind your ass against his crotch.

“Mm,” he hums, chuckling low and breathy at the sudden wave of pleasure forcing him to dig his fingers into your waist.

“There are children in here,” one snarky lady comments as she tries to cover her children’s ears.

“Don’t worry. When they grow up, they’ll understand—”

“Atsumu!” You cover your mouth instantly in a futile attempt to stifle your laughter, earning daggers of stares from everyone else on the elevator.

The elevator dings one more time as the screen flashes your floor number, signalling your stop.

“Sorry!” You yell out when the doors are about to close with Atsumu dragging you to your feet, looking back to the unforgiving looks from the people left at the elevator.

…

“What’s taking so long, ___?” Atsumu whines.

“Shut up, I’m looking okay?”

You scramble through your tiny purse, cursing and wondering why your keys are never where you need them to be.

“Take any longer and I wouldn’t think twice to have you right here.”

“You’re not helping— found it!”

Atsumu stands right behind you as you fiddle with your keys. You can feel his impatience growing and pressing against you as he parts your hair to one side, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on your jaw, down to the crook of your neck.

You suppose it’s the excitement in the air, where love and love-making are to be expected — the culprit behind why Atsumu just couldn’t wait to kiss you until you’re at least inside your room, where you’re hidden from the security cameras. It’s that or the party really must’ve sucked. In the heat of the moment, you kiss him back, hands roaming every which way, from his silky locks down to his biceps that feel so taut underneath your palms. You wonder if you’re probably putting on a good show for the people behind the cameras.

You enter your room after what felt like hours. Atsumu grabs your hand, interlocking with your fingers as he leads you to your bed. Mouths still latched onto each other’s, the need to be rid of clothes becomes urgent to say the least.

Shoes kicked off, and scarf discarded, he sits on the edge and you straddle him as you unbutton his shirt. The second you pull out, calloused fingers snake around the back of your head, and without an ounce of care, Atsumu pulls you back in, crashing his mouth onto yours.

“Sweets, you taste like heaven,” he says, moving on to trail your neck with kisses.

He runs his hands over your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze before he attempts to undress you. He attempts to tug at the zipper of your dress but it doesn’t budge.

”You’re hopeless,” you tease, playfully punching his chest. “Let me help you”

“I’d offer to rip it off but really, I just wanted to watch you strip.” He props his hands behind him, smirking as he chews on the inside of his bottom lip, eyes glistening with anticipation as he watches you get out of your dress. You take off both straps, letting your dress fall to the ground.

“Hh-ooly fuck,” he whistles, chest emptying out the chunk of breath he held back, pupils blown out as he takes the sight of your exposed top. His eyes are dead glued to your figure. With labored breaths, he slowly cups his aching bulge a few times before swiftly unbuckling his belt with one hand, head of his cock creating a dent on his boxers when he unbuttons his pants.

“My turn,” he coos, throwing his pants and shirt aside, revealing a rock hard build that could only belong to a sculpture of a Greek god. His breaths grow heavier the second he takes his cock out of his boxers, you gulp at the size of his girth alone, never mind the length you’re sure you’re not going to be able to take. His chuckles are low and carnal, ones that can’t wait to devour you.

He knows that look on your face. It’s one he’s so used to seeing upon showing his former lovers and fuck buddies his full and hard cock for the first time. The hollow of his palm gathers the slick from the tip. “Fuck, ____. The things I can’t wait to do to you.” He grunts while his fingers play with his foreskin, afterwards smearing pre-cum across his hard length.

With one hand slowly pumping his cock, he reaches for you with his free hand, drawing you back to him with your knees on either side of him, his free hand caressing your sides.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he utters and you feel his soft hair brush over your collarbone as he plants a kiss on your breast. He moves his mouth south of your nipple, tongue flicking the bud before capturing it in his mouth. He releases with a pop, alternating between licking and sucking on your supple flesh.

”Atsumu,” you mutter his name, fingers brushing through his silky locks while he’s in your embrace, clothed cunt lightly rubbing on the tip of his cock, “please,” you murmur.

”Hm? Can’t hear you,” he hums, teeth sinking into your tit as his tongue plays with your nipple, not having had his fill with them yet. He knows full well what you need with his fingers tracing along the hems of your underwear.

“F-fuck!” you cry from the sudden burning sensation on your ass down to your cunt, holding onto him for dear life as you try to grind against the much-needed friction, and you realize he’d pulled a fistful of your underwear from behind you.

“God, you’re so pretty. Even the sounds you make are so pretty.” He tightens his grip on your panties, running his free fingers between your spilled labias.

“You weren’t lyin’ about getting wet after all, were you, sweets?”

“S-stop teasing, Atsumu—fuck!” He parts your underwear and runs a finger through your slippery folds. “Mmf,” you mewl when he pinches your clit, teasing your sensitive bud, your body practically melting into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders.

“I’m just stating the obvious, ___. You’re so wet, it’s so cute. So eager. So fucking ready for me.”

“You fucking idi—ahh!” Atsumu relentlessly pumps his middle and ring finger into your wet hole, his thumb drawing fast slimy circles onto your clit, making you collapse onto him as he fucks you with his fingers.

“You want my cock? Say it. Say you want my cock. Beg for it sweets. I want to hear you say it. C’mon, say it.”

“P-please… your cock… Atsummff— hha!!” You whimper, head bowed, forehead leaning on his shoulder. You’re losing rhyme and reason as you mount his hand, hips bucking onto his touch riding your first orgasm, all while Atsumu peppers your shoulder blade with kisses.

“You’re so fucking cute, wanna hear you cummin’ all night long.”

Before you could shoot back a response, his mouth is on yours again, kissing you fervently with his tongue battling against yours. You moan into his mouth as he rubs now-menacingly slow circles on your sensitive bud, letting out a whimper when he slides two digits again inside you, exploring your velvet walls.

“Please, please, please, ‘Tsumu,” pressing your forehead against his, you purr, making Atsumu curl his fingers inside you.

He lets out a soft breathy chuckle. You could tell he’s pleased with himself, toying at you who has already come undone with just his fingers.

He hooks his hands under your thighs, fingers digging in your skin as he lifts you, gently laying you down on your bed.

His brown eyes are fixed on yours while he removes your underwear, making your breath hitch at your full exposure. His head tilts, looking at your puffy cunt with such hunger in his gaze. He lines himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock accidentally rubbing against your clit, and he doesn’t miss the way your mouth instantly formed an ‘o’.

And for the last time, “Atsumu, please. I need you,” you beg.

“So fucking pretty.” He shoots you a smirk before wrapping your legs around his waist, fully thrusting all of his length inside you, not giving you time to adjust at all. Luckily, your own juices help with the stretch as he pounds into you on all fours.

”Ah—god, Atsumu!” your eyebrows furrow as you cry out in pleasure. To stifle your moans, you bite onto your thumb, but that seems to do something to Atsumu, his gaze and pace both turning into something more animalistic.

”Fuck, keep doin’ that and I’ll be done in a matter of seconds,” his clicks his tongue and you feel him twitch inside you.

Wanting this to last as long as possible, you obey him, clutching onto the sheets instead. But at the rate he’s going, you can’t help but arch into him as you feel yourself nearing your climax once more.

“So glad we left the party,” you mumble to which Atsumu laughs. “Fuck yeah.”

Your breaths are getting shorter and you start to feel tears pricking your eyes. ”I’m almost- almost there- a-almost-“ Your eyes close shut, head craning back subconsciously as you await your orgasm.

”No, no. Fuck. Look at me, I wanna see your pretty face,” he demands as he continues to pound into you. You follow his command despite your self-consciousness over your unravelling expression, but a bolt of heat shoots down your stomach so hot, it stifles any complaint that could come from your mouth.

”Perfect,” he says as he clasps his calloused hands on yours, forcing you to let go of the sheets.

His strides have gone uneven at this point and you wrap your legs tighter around him, waiting to hit your peak for the nth time. Open mouthed and breath hitching, you force yourself to look at him while your insides clenches around his throbbing cock. You’re trembling in your high as he slams one more time into you — grunting in his own release before plopping on top of you.

“Damn,” you breathe out.

Clearing your throat, you lightly urge him to shuffle from his position.

“Damn,” he says back, leaving you a chaste kiss on your cheek, and for some reason, that makes your heart skip a beat in a different way compared to the intimate exchange you just had.

It doesn't miss you that he’s still in you, hard. He lays on his side after he exits you, and you bring your leg around so that he’s spooning you. You jolt back when you feel him sliding his cock back in from behind you, but the stretch is one you welcome, too tired to even complain about all the cum he’s squeezing out of you.

”You’re not gonna look me up three months later asking for support aren't ya?” he pants.

”You seriously only thought to ask that only now?”

He laughs sheepishly and you add, ”Don’t worry, we’re good.”

“How’d you end up going to the ceremony anyway? Big occasions don't seem like your type.”

“You — you’re not just trying to make small talk, are you?” you tease as Atsumu fiddles with your breast. Even during pillowtalk, he’s quite on brand as the tits kind of guy.

“Darling, it’s called ‘getting to know you’,” he retorts, squeezing your tit.

“I just like the beach,” you say plainly, slightly taken aback by the sudden interrogation. “And how are you related to the groom?”

“We’re cousins. But he’s closer to my twin than me.”

Looking over your shoulder, “you’re a twin?!”

Your insides suddenly twitch at your discovery, making him jolt forward “Careful there!” he grunts, warning you as he wraps an arm around your waist.

“Same undercut, dark hair. That’s right, I saw him too. How did I not see you were twins?!”

You feel the grumble of his chest while he chuckles, feeling hints of exhaustion in his laughter while he’s pressed up against your back. He kisses your shoulder, feeling his weight on you as he leans into you even more. “You musta’ just been looking at the right sort,” he replies cheekily, hand latched onto your breast again.

“By ‘right’, you mean you?”

“Yeah? You seemed to think so when you were screaming my name two minutes ago.”

”I’m just saying. I wouldn't know if you're the better twin. Just ‘cause—”

“What’s that?” He brings a hand over to your clit, viciously rubbing your sensitive bud, making your hips shake. He’s banking on your overstimulation from your multiple orgasms, obviously unwilling to let you finish whatever it is you were gonna say.

“What is it?”

“Nothingfff— I—”

“I what?”

“Feel so good, d-don’t stop—fuck!”

He lifts you by your waist so that you’re on all fours, fingers still stroking your clit. It doesn't take much until he’s thrusting into you again. This time, you grab hold of the headboard as he moves one hand to cup your breast and another on your back, keeping you just where he wants you.

The ram of his hips against your as is a mix of sticky and slippery, sticky where his cum began to dry out seconds ago. He pounds into you harder this time, apparently unhappy with your supposed comparison.

“‘Tsumuuuu,” you purr. If a while ago you were merely oriented with the stretch of his cock, now it’s something so familiar you’re sure no other cock can quite fit like a glove compared to his. And you suddenly remember that you had practically just met this person and yet he’s already balls deep into you for the second time today.

The sound of his rock hard thighs ramming onto your ass sends your insides coiling. Still slightly sticky from the cum that hasn’t fully dried out, your clit sticks onto the base of his cock before he fully exits and pounds into you again. Cunt gummy, slimy, and stuffed all at once, a bolt of heat from your stomach shoots down to your center making you scream in pleasure.

He squeezes your tit one last time before bringing his hand to rub circles on your clit. Once more, you arch your back, whimpering as you get off from your high. Pretty soon, he’s coming off from his own high, stuffing you full of his hot and thick seed.

“Just so ya know, I forgive you. Clearly, you weren't thinkin’ straight a while ago,” he says and you could almost hear the smirk in his face by how he said it. He plops back down on the bed, pulling you close to his sweaty, panting body.

“You are so full of it,” you sneer.

He pulls you in tighter before asking, “so, 8 PM tomorrow?”

“Deal.”

nagi seishiro ; slow and steady

nsfw / fem! reader

i 100% believe nagi LOVES cockwarming

it’s no secret that nagi doesn’t put in effort in much things. even when you’re writhing and moaning, putting all your strength into staying upright on top of him, he still doesnt move.

when you unlocked your apartment door, you were surprised to see your boyfriend nagi laying down on the couch, spamming the buttons on his game controller.

“nagi! i didn’t know you would be back so early,” you put your bag down and walked over to him, giving him a peck on the cheek without obstructing his view of the television.

he turned his face towards you, accepting the kiss and said, “oh yeah training ended a little earlier today and a new game patch was just released so the timing was perfect.”

you hummed in response, sitting down next to him on the couch and laid your head on his shoulder. it was a hectic day and you felt relief just laying down next to nagi, your eyes start to flutter shut.

sensing your tiredness and realizing you’ve not spoken after a few minutes, nagi looked at you dozing off on his shoulder and he slowly put his controller down and tried to lift you up to readjust you on his lap, so that you could rest your head on the crook of his neck, making it more comfortable for you.

nagi continued to play his game as you rested, your short breaths brushing against his neck got him a little on the edge, or it could be because he’s losing in his game. but you start to wriggle on his lap, finding a comfortable spot and he’s suddenly hyperaware of your soft chest squishing against him and your soft lips breathing against his skin.

nagi slowly puts down his controller on the space next to him and runs his hands across your back, tingling your skin as he moved further down to where your bodies meet.

you startled awake as you feel his fingers ghosting the bottom hem of your skirt that rode him.

“nagi?” you push your hands against his chest and looked up at him.

“nothing baby, just wanna feel you more,” he brushes your cheek with a free hand and you leaned unto his touch, allowing him to resume with what he was doing.

nagi slowly pushes your skirt up till he can see your cute panties and stockings, he was so tempted to just rip them apart but you would definitely get mad at him for ruining a good set so nagi just pulls them down, and you lift your hips up slightly for him to do it comfortably.

nagi brings his hand up to your chin, raising your face up to kiss deeply as he used his dominant hand to travel to your clit. feeling you gasp at his touch, he took the opportunity to take the kiss one step deeper and slowly enjoyed your little whines.

once he was satisfied with how wet you were, he removes his fingers and slid down his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his dick with one hand and lined it against your soaking wet entrance.

“hey,” he kisses your cheeks and tries to get your attention, “i’m putting it in now okay?”

“mhmm,” you mumbled in response, still hazed by his fingers working you close to your orgasm and you’re sure that once he’s in you, deep and full, you will cum instantly.

nagi takes that as a yes and you slowly sank down on his dick, your toes curling and your thighs twitching as he filled you up. its so hot to see nagi struggling as well, his face pink and flustered, his eyes hooded with desire and he was trying so hard to not cum immediately too.

“okay baby that’s it, you did so well,” he kisses you again when you’re filled to the brim, if you looked down you would be able to see a bulge just below your stomach. the sight of that drove you insane you could barely sit still and you want to cum so bad.

however, nagi had other plans. he noticed that his next match was about to start, so his hands leave your waist, picking up the remote control again.

“nagi….”you whined as you tried to fuck yourself on his dick, but his arms were constraining your body as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding onto the controller.

“oh sorry baby, just one game okay? after this round i promise i’ll fuck you nice and hard,” he says that easily as you squeezed around his dick after hearing his words.

“nagi…please?” you begged him to at least move a little, nagi loves to do this to you; putting his dick in you and watching you writhe and fuck yourself against him but if you begged, he’d actually move.

nagi sighed, what was he going to do with you as he watched you start to sob a little from how full you felt and he loves you so much.

so when the game started, he starts to move, building your orgasm slowly as you felt like you were on fire.

and you knew that already; he’s going to just keep moving slowly and steadily, not allowing you to cum until he wins this match.

- end!

hope you liked it, my requests are always open ♡

thank you for 700 followers as well muacks

multi-character drabble.

includes adult themes so, mdni.

when his best friend asks you why you're dating him, you get upset, because why wouldn't you date him?

he may seem like a total slacker, and sometimes he is, but as a boyfriend? he's the best you've ever had.

when you're watching a horror movie, and he notices the part where there's gonna be a jumpscare or something that might make you uncomfortable, he holds your hand tightly, and covers your eyes.

when you're on your period, craving that one cupcake from that little bakery on that street somewhere you can't remember the name of, he calls everyone up, describing the place, and ends up getting you the exact same cupcake by night.

when you're feeling anxious about your exams, he's holding you in his big arms, telling you it's all gonna be alright, and you're gonna be fine because he'll be there no matter what.

when you're coughing and sniffling because of a cold, he gets up early to make you some hot soup. he comes into the room to wake you up, kissing your forehead as he brings the spoon closer to your lips.

when you're feeling a little upset about that girl trying to flirt with him, he notices at that exact moment. he hugs you tightly and waves her off, "stop being a hassle, i've already found the love of my life"

when you're suddenly up in the middle of the night, feeling too aroused after having a hot dream about your boyfriend. he wakes up the second you whisper to him, he takes a second to understand the situation and chuckles as he places wet kisses on your neck, mumbling something about you being such a needy little girl for him.

when your walls clench tightly around his throbbing cock, he makes sure to keep going faster, hitting all the necessary spots to make you call out his name.

so, why wouldn't you date him?

this is honestly mainly meant for nagi because he's just my babygirl,, but can be your favs too <3

© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .

from the start ; sae itoshi x f!reader P2 [CH1]

note: here's part 2!

wc ; 4.5k | content ; slow burn, swearing, tension, angst, situationship, kissing, making out, crying, more angst, not proofread, reader is Over It but sae is down bad, sae is rich, cringe cliche tropes i'm sorry, english isn't my first language, two parter?, no prns but reader wears a dress, ooc, reader and sae both have rich and absent, implied smut? maybe, alcohol, reader and sae are both 19

summary ; the world has a different kind of birthday present for you today

You barely make it to your room before you break down, sobbing so hard you can barely breathe. White-hot tears trace paths down your cheeks like lava, dripping off your face onto the sheets. The sheets that still smell of him. Your clothes smell of him. Even when he's leaving you, going off to another fucking continent, he still surrounds you, follows you around like a ghost. Your hands fist the sheets; you're curled into a ball, chest heaving. It hurts; everything hurts. Your heart and your soul and your chest and your life and even the thought of him, it’s all so painful you can’t even think properly.

You don’t know when exactly you pass out again, but when you finally wake up, it’s about eight. In the evening. You stare at your phone; to your surprise there’s over a hundred missed calls, and almost 400 texts from your friends. What the hell?

Asa’s calling you again. You pick up, confused. “What–”

“What the actual fuck, y/n, where were you? And what was Sae Itoshi doing at your house last night?”

“What?” you say dumbly, voice groggy. You’ve barely just woken up.

“Okay, yeah, not just last night, but my point still stands!” she appears to have misread the reason for your confusion. “It’s all over our social media! I mean, you’re literally standing there with your face in his fucking hands like a fucking romcom!”

“What?” you repeat hoarsely.

“Quit repeating yourself, you goat,” she snaps. “Open up, I’m coming over.”

You take this opportunity to change out of Sae’s clothes – the t-shirt has “SAE” emblazoned on the front in bright red letters against white fabric, and it’s not exactly something that’ll help your current situation – and fix up your hair. You’re getting yourself some breakfast [dinner?] when the doorbell rings. You open it cautiously, slightly terrified, but to your relief it’s only Asa and Maki. And Asa looks mad as hell.

She struts in right past you, but Maki waits until you invite her in. She offers you a sheepish smile in lieu of an apology. When you turn back, she’s seated on the couch, next to the–

Shit. The bouquet.

Asa tosses it towards you with a wry smile; you fumble twice before catching it. She watches you as you put it away with more care than you should, then turns her phone towards you, no longer smiling.

“When were you gonna tell us about this?”

It’s an Instagram post. The image is blurry, so it takes a moment for it to register, for you to realize just what you’re looking at – it’s a photograph of the front of your house, late at night. You know it’s late at night, specifically because the door is open, and you’re standing there, and Sae’s there too, hands cupping your face. His back is turned to the camera but the shaggy reddish-brown hair is too noticeable for it to be anyone else. It looks like you’re holding his hands, like some sort of romantic gesture. It had been a romantic moment, but not on your part. but you’re not the internet, after all. Asa swipes, and the next photograph is Sae kissing you behind the bleachers. Your head is tilted up, half-covered by his black-gloved hand. He’s still in his soccer uniform, sweat glistening on his temple. You’re holding a water bottle –presumably his, and it’d be an adorable scene elsewhere. But not here, not now, not as a secret that everyone’s suddenly finding out about. The third picture shows you leaning back against a car – Sae’s car – in an empty parking lot, with a giddy smile on your face. You’re wearing his jacket over your tank top and shorts, and he’s brushing a wisp of your hair away from your face. The fourth – god, how many of these are there – is him bending down to whisper something in your ear when he thought no one was looking. Although the camera is zoomed in to a degree that should be illegal, the burning blush on your face is still apparent, and so is the wicked grin on Sae’s face. To your chagrin, you can remember the exact details of this conversation; it had been something along the lines of this.

Sae: y/n

You: what

Sae: wanna go to my car and make out?

You’d said no, and he hadn’t questioned it. You like that about him. You’d both still ended up in the car, though.

You’re silent, watching, as she scrolls through the rest of the images, no sarcasm or wit or snarky replies. And according to her, that’s only the first post. Maki, on the other hand, doesn’t quite care about the fact that you’ve been doing… things… with Sae as much as you not telling her about it. Her lips turn up into a pout as she leans back into your couch. “Shame you didn’t tell us, though…”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just couldn’t–”

Asa interrupts you. “How long has this been going on?”

Maki whistles. “Interrogation time, I guess!”

You sit down on the love seat opposite Asa.

“Well?”

“Prom,” you admit guiltily.

“Like… two years ago?” Asa sounds hurt.

“I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head impatiently. “So what about his other girlfriends?”

“We never did anything when he was dating,” you defend yourself. Even though it’s true, it still feels like a lame excuse.

“So you were like his – backup girlfriend,” Maki observes.

“Can we stop talking about it like this?” you interject, suddenly snappy. You hug yourself defensively, suddenly unable to breathe properly. You’re inhaling as deep as you can, but it’s as if the air isn’t quite reaching your lungs. Before you know it, you’re shaking, a new onslaught of tears spilling out from your eyes. You sniffle, trying in vain to wipe your tears away. But then there’s a sudden warmth surrounding you, and you feel Asa and Maki’s arms around you, hugging you, holding you close. For some reason, you’re crying harder now that they’re holding you. Asa whispers apologies into your hair, and Maki whispers, “It’s okay.”

It’s not. It won’t be, ever again.

It takes a while for you to finally calm down.

“I’m sorry,” says Asa again. “We won’t talk about it anymore. But still! The Sae Itoshi! What was it like?”

“Yeah…” you smile awkwardly. “He was nice, I guess.”

“You–”

“I’m going to sleep,” announces Maki. “You two talk or whatever.”

She turns over, and you look at Asa again, waiting for her to continue.

“You guess?” she asks, skeptically. “What’d he even do?”

“He was like a boyfriend,” you say, thinking aloud. “But also not really a boyfriend, y’know?”

“It’s one or the other, l/n, choose,” she huffs, glaring at you. There’s no actual vexation behind it, though, and you both burst into awkward laughter. It dies down pretty fast, but the atmosphere is way more relaxed now.

“It was pretty physical,” you admit. “But also we broke it off last night before he left, because it was–”

“Pretty physical,” Asa finishes for you.

“Yeah, that. It wouldn’t work over text.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “What’s going on? With everyone else, I mean.”

“About that…” Asa smiles uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her neck. “You’re not exactly on the right side of the story.”

“Of course not,” you sigh tiredly.

“They think he cheated on all the girls with you,” she explains.

“Of course they do.” You bury your face in your hands with a tired groan. “Dude, fuck all this. Fuck Sae, I wish I’d never said yes.”

“Said yes to what?”

You flush, dark red hues spreading and spilling across your cheeks like splashes of paint. “Nothing.”

Asa doesn’t question you, but a moment later she leans forward to squeeze your hand all the same. “Now what are we gonna do about tomorrow?”

“They won’t believe me, will they?”

Asa smiles tightly. “Uh…”

School is… worse than expected. Everyone eyes you like hawks – not just his girlfriends and their friends, everyone and their mother are staring at you, unsmiling. Even the damn teacher. It’s almost unfair, the way you’ve suddenly been alienated from everyone; even your other friends aren’t talking to you. Almost. Because you’re at fault, too. You shouldn’t have gotten carried away, whisked off into some fairytale world where you’re common folk, and he’s a prince, secretly in love. There wasn’t even love, you think, and your heart hurts because you’re so in love with him, and he’d probably been using you the entire time.

Except last night, a voice pipes up in your head. And yeah, last night had been different. But what does it matter now? He’s gone, and someone’s leaked pictures of the two of you like he’s some sort of high-up celebrity.

The voices die down as time passes by, and between taking deep breaths and Asa squeezing your hand protectively, things do get better. That’s not to say that they stop, however, and you do overhear yourself being referred to as “Sae Itoshi’s side chick” once or twice. You can’t even complain, because that’s kind of what you actually were. Minus the cheating. And there are a few outstanding incidents, every now and then.

The first one takes place maybe two days after he leaves; you’re about to dig into the shitty cafeteria lunch when someone slams their tray down onto the table opposite you. Considering the fact that Asa will be sitting with her boyfriend, you’ve already accepted the fact that you’ll be sitting alone. So you’re pleasantly surprised – or not, because the person sitting opposite you is no other than Sae’s latest ex, Mira. She sneers at your surprise, then leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “So, you’re why he was always so distracted, huh? Fucking side hoe.”

The last part comes out as a hiss, and you flinch back in shock. She’s laughing at first, but it slowly fades off into silence when she realizes you’re genuinely confused. “What–”

“What do you mean distracted?” you interrupt her. “It’s because of soccer, not me.”

“No, it was you,” she states again, obtusely. “I know men, y/n. It wasn’t anything other than a girl, and considering the two of you’ve had some sort of fucked up situationship going on since who-knows-when…” she trails off.

“It wasn’t like that,” you plead desperately. You’re not sure why. “I liked him, yeah, but he was just looking for something that he didn’t have to stay committed to.”

“Are you fucked in the head?” she demands. “I don’t know if he was trying to look out for you in his own fucked up way by not making things official, but that man was fucking whipped. I knew it going in.”

“What?” you ask weakly.

“His mind was never in it,” she explains impatiently. “He wanted you badly.” She looks you up and down, somewhat judgmentally. “Dunno what he saw, exactly, but he did. I came here to be a bitch to you, maybe cuss you out, but you’re so pathetic.”

“Excuse me?” You cross your arms defensively, finally coming back to your senses. You open your mouth to respond with a nasty retort, but she interrupts you before you can.

“I don’t mean it in a rude way, but you seriously are. I mean, how stupid would you have to be to not notice?”

You blink at her dumbly, confused, and she shakes her head resignedly. “Never mind. I’m Mira, but I guess you already know that. I know who you are too. Wanna be friends?”

“I thought you hated me,” you say slowly.

“Long story short, I don’t.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Not anymore, anyways.”

It really is surprising how some things turn out.

If you initially don’t trust Mira all that much at first, you can’t really be blamed. But then one day you’re cornered by two of Sae’s other exes – he has like seventeen of them now – and before you know it, she’s flying to your rescue. You don’t exactly get to hear what she screams at them, but apparently it’s enough to make them back off, leaving you alone with Mira as she smiles down at you triumphantly. She’s actually shorter than you, but those stupidly tall platforms the two of you found in the back of your closet have done wonders for her height.

And if she treats you like a pitiful homeless puppy, she’s not doing it on purpose.

Mira is a stereotypical rich girl, but she’s nice when you get used to it. And she’s generous with her money. Even when you try to stop her, even when you’re able to afford the same things without worrying about the price.

For your eighteenth birthday, she throws you a huge party; there aren’t a lot of people there but the expenses are quite high. She pays for your dress, your makeup, your shoes. She also pays for the tissues and ice cream after the party ends and you start crying because you miss Sae. You can’t stop apologizing to her, considering the fact that he’s someone she liked, too. She shuts you up with a haughty sniff and dismissive wave, and hands you another tissue.

Your nineteenth birthday, however, is when she goes all out. You wake up to exactly one notification – it’s nothing you aren’t used to now, considering even Asa’s drifted away from you now that school’s ended, and your only friend is Mira, of all people. Your parents aren’t home, of course, but the notification is from them – about $10k has been deposited into your bank account. You crack a sleepy smile. At least they remembered, even if no one else did. But then when you’re halfway through eating your breakfast, someone starts banging at your door. You open it cautiously once you realize it’s Mira, and she walks in without acknowledging you, then turns to thrust a large purple duffle bag into your arms. When you stare at her blankly, unmoving, she locks your door again, then turns to you, arms crossed.

“I hope you didn’t notice half your clothes are missing, because I stole them,” she says briskly. “The ones that aren’t yours in there are also yours now, I bought them for you.”

“What?” you’re almost disorientated at this point.

“We’re going on a trip,” she tells you impatiently. “Happy birthday, bitch.”

Maybe you are the pitiful puppy she treats you like. Because instead of protesting, you follow her silently like you are one.

The trip isn’t quite what you’d expected at first. You find yourself shuffled into a helicopter – it’s not like you’ve never been on one, but it’s still a… startling experience. You’re still clutching onto your duffle bag; you must look like an absolute fool right now. Mira’s made you change into “presentable” clothes, a white tank top with jeans. No one’s even there to see you right now, you think, so why’d she make you change out of your sweats? But then you disembark onto a cruise ship?

“What the hell?” you shriek.

Mira just smiles.

The two of you are escorted to your rooms, and you watch as she gives curt instructions to the stewards about preparations for some kind of party. Then she turns to you. “Listen up, y/n.”

You blink at her, confused. Confusion seems to be a large part of your friendship.

“We’ll be trying on dresses now. The stylists will be over in an hour, and the party starts at seven.” You open your mouth to speak, but she ignores you. “I know six hours is an awfully short time to get ready, sorry not sorry. I invited some of our old friends too.”

“Okay,” you breathe. This shit’s overwhelming.

Everything goes well until it’s time to pick jewelry. You’ve never been much of anything other than a minimalist when it comes to it, and this time there’s only one piece you want to wear. Everyone in the room’s disagreeing with you; from Mira to the stylists to the makeup artists. It’s gold, it won’t go with the black and silver of your dress. It’s too little, it’s too simple. A single heart-shaped locket on a chain looped around your neck. You shake your head obstinately. “I want this, Mira.”

Suddenly, her eyes light up with understanding. “Oh. That brat gave it to you, yes?”

There’s only one person who she’d refer to like this – Sae. You bite your lip, wondering whether to say yes or not. She narrows her eyes knowingly, and you finally nod, nervous. She smiles condescendingly, then snaps her fingers at the two women messing with your hair and clothing. “Let her have it.”

You smile at her gratefully.

The birthday banquet is exquisite. It’s much more than you could’ve ever expected from anyone. You greet your old friends with light hugs and feathery cheek-kisses, trying not to ruin their makeup. You thank everyone for coming, thank Mira for the surprise. The night passes by surprisingly fast, and around the end of the party you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Your makeup is smudged, and you’re somewhat tipsy from the alcohol being passed around. You splash water onto your face, then clean yourself up. Before you fix your makeup, you experience a surprising moment of weakness; you miss Sae, you wish he were here tonight. You press the locket to your lips with a quiet sigh.

The walk back to your party hall is confusing, and your feet hurt in your heels. When you reach the door of the party hall, it’s as if it’s a different one. Cheers and yells echo from within, and someone bumps into you as they exit from it. “Wrong hall,” they say, and your eyes meet, and holy shit, you must be drunk as hell because what the fuck is Sae Itoshi doing here?

“Sae?” you breathe. Your voice is unsteady — what if you’re wrong, what if he’s someone else? But then he steps into the light, and it is Sae, pretty teal eyes wide as he stares at you.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, glancing around quickly. Grabbing your hand, he gives it a quick squeeze, then clears his throat. There's an unusually serious expression on his face. “Don't get me wrong, y/n, I’m absolutely ecstatic to see you, but what the hell are you doing here?”

“My birthday,” you whisper.

Realization flits across his face, only to be replaced by confusion. “Wait, but Mira–”

“My best friend, apparently.”

“Oh,” he replies, seeming unsure of what to say. “Oh.”

There's an awkward silence before either of you try to speak again.

“So–”

“Uh–”

“You go first,” you venture.

“You,” Sae clears his throat again. “You look, ah, pretty.”

Without your approval, your lips turn up into a smile. He makes it so easy for you to smile.

“You wanna go somewhere else?” he suggests. “I can't be seen with anyone who, you know…” Sae trails off, but you understand.

“Sure.”

Suddenly you're back in high school, fingers intertwined as you sneak away from the crowds to get a little time to yourselves. Just as you're about to round a corner, you hear footsteps approaching, and Sae tugs you into a small room, lit up only by a flickering lightbulb.

The place is cramped, and you find yourself pushed up against him. Your hand rests lightly on his chest, right above his heart, beating erratically, so fast you can’t not feel it. He wishes he could calm down, stop whatever the hell his heart is up to right now. But he can’t exactly control it, can he? So all he can do is hope. Hope that you don’t notice the way his heart spells iloveyous over and over again into the palm of your hand – the very same one that’s held him in a chokehold ever since prom, when he’d decided to indulge in your silly crush. Not that he’d ever cared about it, of course not. He was just bored. And he’s spent the last two years of his life trying to convince himself that he isn’t in love with you, that it’s only ever been a physical attraction. But then his eyes flit down to your neck – he isn’t quite sure why he looks, but it’s surprisingly bare, considering you’re the center of attention today. There’s only a single piece of jewelry adorning it, a simple gold necklace with a heart-shaped locket. Oh. Shit, he is in love with you. Not just that, he’s never been this down bad for anyone, or anything. He’d probably choose you over soccer right now, if you gave him a chance. But you won’t. Not like this, not when he’d hurt you this bad just because of his own emotional immaturity. And knowing you, you’ll probably try to hurt him back first. Revenge. Sae’s breath catches in his throat as you stare up at him, eyes a queer mixture of vulnerability and calculation.

Your head tilts every so slightly to one side as you study his face, yours devoid of any emotion. There’s something different about him, though. Has he started shaving? Maybe it’s the light blush on his cheeks. Maybe it’s the way he looks like he can’t breathe properly, or maybe, just maybe it’s his overly fast heartbeat against his chest, and then against your hand. And maybe it’s all three.

“You’ve gone all soft, Sae Itoshi,” you observe.

If it were any other day, any other person, he’d deny it. But it’s you. So he squeezes your hand on top of his chest with his own, and allows himself to smile. “Only for you, you know.”

“The fuck?” you demand, pulling away, but there’s a sly little grin on your face – you know you've got him wrapped around your finger. You’re still holding his hand – or letting him hold it, you suppose. “You actually missed me?”

“I said I would,” he says. He looks you up and down once, and holy fuck you’re gorgeous. A string of curses runs through his mind; it almost ceases to function at the sight of the fluffy black dress you’re wearing. It’s made up of a glittery black material, and the skirt is a semi-transparent tulle, floating around your legs like wisps of smoke. Even clad in black, a stark contrast to white, the standard color of purity, you’re still so angelic. You’re positively sparkling, like champagne, like sunlight. You’re bright, energy in its purest form. Your smile is contagious under the strong white lights, and still, you’re somehow glowing even brighter. Your presence itself makes him feel lighter than he has in ages. You’re pleasantly intoxicating, like a drink too many on a good night. He’s never done drugs, but he’s confident that he doesn’t need any, not when he’s already high off of the feel of your hand in his. The very sight of you right now is making his mind blank out, setting free butterflies in his stomach, the existence of which he’d never been aware.

And then, fueled by the alcohol in his system, and the way you intoxicate him, his hands find their way to cup your face. This is stupid, he thinks. He's going to fuck it up again. But then again, he'd rather risk things now than never find out how you feel.

“I’m in love with you,” he blurts, childishly. “Can I kiss you?”

You don't respond, grabbing him by the collar again – just like prom night – to press your lips together. After the few seconds it takes for him to process this, one of his hands flies to your waist, pulling you into him even more. The kiss is slow and fervent, unlike any of the ones before. It's full of everything left unsaid over the last few years, heavy with all the emotion that you've been too scared to show all along.

You're the first to pull away, albeit unwillingly. You really don't want to stop kissing him, but you have to breathe, too. Speaking of which – loving Sae is like breathing. It's easy, and natural, and you can't imagine yourself ever not doing it. Even now, you're filled with an overwhelming amount of adoration for him, tangling your fingers in the hairs at the nape of his neck while he presses soft kisses along yours, murmuring breathy promises alongside them.

“I'll come back to Japan,” he whispers. “I'll love you forever, fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, and it's like a secret that the two of you share, wrapped up within shy smiles and awkward grins and being in love and your intertwined fingers and you being his and him being yours.

And maybe you're smiling giddily just like back then, unsure of what to say as the two of you sneak into Sae’s cabin, and then into his bed. And like before, he's pulling out his own clothes for you to wear, and pulling you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your hair. This time, though, he kisses the nape of your neck, and lets himself whisper three words into the comfortable silence between you two.

“I love you,” he says again, and you smile, pulling his hands up from your waist to kiss them before you say it back, a solemn, reverent whisper for him to hold and to keep.

You lie motionless in his arms, and although he doesn't know whether you're awake or asleep, he starts talking anyways, as he plays with a lock of your hair. “It's always been you, you know. From the start, every day. I was just stupid, but it's always been you, and I love you, and–”

He's cut off by a loud sniffle as you try not to cry, twisting around to kiss him. When you're finally satisfied with how flushed and breathless he is, you let him kiss your tears away too.

Sae hasn't slept this well in years.

The next morning, you pull out your phone to save his – your boyfriend's, you correct yourself triumphantly – number, and that's when you see the singular text from Mira.

Did you like my surprise?

While the text in itself is somewhat creepy, it all makes sense now – of course she would've known, considering she booked the cabins and halls herself. And possibly pulled a few strings too. You really have to thank her later.

Sae is lying with his head on your chest, playing with your necklace again when someone bangs on the door. “Itoshi, wake up! You're running late!”

“I'm busy!” he yells back, not making any preparations to move.

“With what?” demands the person on the other side of the door.

“My girlfriend, fuck off, Aiku!” his lips curve up into a smile as he sees you flush prettily after hearing yourself being referred to as his girlfriend, and he leans forward to kiss your scarlet cheeks with a laugh.

Beginning of the End

pairing: Suna Rintarou x F!Reader

angst to fluff

WC: 3.1k

synopsis: when Suna begins to spend more time with his close friends, including his new sickeningly sweet manager, you start to wonder if you’re not as important to him as you thought.

content/warnings: neglect, mentions of beating up (no one gets beat up), jealousy, insecurity, no use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything!

you make your way towards the gymnasium with a giddy smile as you hum the lyrics to Apple Cider. it’s a boring Thursday afternoon, and while you had the option of going home immediately, you figured you’d stop by Rintarou’s volleyball practice. after all, you’d baked some brownies and thought it would be a fun surprise for the boys.

you peek your head through the door to ensure no volleyballs are going to attack you, before slipping in and running towards the benches. you notice Suna spot you with his intense stare, and you give him a smile paired with a wave in response. he waves back before focusing on the rest of his practice.

you manage to get some work done throughout the hour, not disturbing the team as you know how serious the sport is to them. by the time you’ve finished your homework, they’ve begun to pack up and head to the locker room.

Atsumu, however, wipes his sweat with a towel before walking towards you.

“Hey, [Name], how are ya doin'?” he asks you with a crooked grin.

you finish zipping up your backpack before looking up, “I’m doing okay! Just waiting for Rin.”

he nods understandingly as the rest of the boys walk out, dressed in fresh clothes and looking much less… stinky. Rintarou eyes you and Atsumu as he lazily stalks over, draping an arm over you and pulling you close.

he bends down and kisses your temple, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”

you pause, looking up at him unsure as you are aware of the presence of his team members. “I was waiting for you. I was thinking we could go back home together and watch a movie?”

he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, today the team is going out for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?”

you ignore the pinch in your heart at the lack of an invitation, but you justify it as it is a team dinner. and make no mistake, no matter how close you were, you were not part of his team.

“Oh, okay.” you murmur with an awkward smile. you look towards Osamu who stands off to the side, “Hey, ‘Samu, I made my brownies again since you all loved them so much. Here.”

you reach out to give them to him as he rips open the lid and stares at it with heart-eyes. he looks back to you, “Thank ya so much [Name], ya sure ya don’t wanna dump Sunarin for me? I could eat these for the rest of ma life.”

Suna immediately wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest as he glowers at Osamu. you giggle as Osamu merely raises his hands in mock surrender. the rest of the team digs in, including Atsumu who you notice still hasn’t changed. but that was none of your business.

what was your business, was the pouty messy haired boy in front of you who looked like a sad puppy.

“Hey. Where’s mine?”

you smile fondly, before unzipping your backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped bag of brownies. they were decorated with caramel drizzle and mini sprinkle hearts.

Suna lights up at the sight, gently grabbing it from your hand and kissing the side of your face. “Thanks.” he whispers, causing you to shiver at the low tone.

“Should you all be eating brownies when nationals is just around the corner? I thought you’d be more strict about this, Kita-san.” a gentle voice comes from behind. you look over and find their manager, Akira, as she frowns at the team.

Kita looks thoroughly scolded as he stares at the brownie in his hand, his cheeks puffed out as he stops chewing.

your brows furrow as you notice everyone stop eating. you force a smile, “I thought it would be fine since it’s been months since I gave it to them.”

Atsumu nods as he finishes chewing, licking his fingers once he’s done. “Yeah, don’t worry about it Akira, yer new so ya don’t know this, but [Name] always bakes for us. It doesn’t hurt to have somethin’ sweet once in a while.”

she sighs, a dimpled smile coming onto her face, “I suppose you’re right, Atsumu. Well, when are we leaving?”

your face drops at the we. who is we, you begin to wonder. the team? her? everyone here but you? you clench your fist as you inhale quietly. you turn to Suna with a smile.

“I’m gonna head home before it gets darker, have fun at your dinner.” you kiss his cheek before placing your bag over your shoulder and leaving, uncaring of the fact that your exit was not the nicest.

perhaps this was the beginning of the end of your and Suna’s relationship. looking back, you should’ve noticed something was wrong. but what were you to do, other than ride the catastrophic wave as a rookie surfer.

✾

things began to go downhill from there. slowly, but surely, you were losing Rintarou. it went from team dinners, to team hangouts, to spending lunch breaks with the team. it was the team, team, team, and team. and a quick glance at Atsumu’s Instagram let you know that Akira was included in every team plan.

that didn’t mean you didn’t try. because if there’s anything you ever did, it was try your best.

“Hey, Rin! Let’s get dinner on Saturday?”

he looks at you with a guilty smile, kissing your lips gently. you part, dazed, but he lets you down with his next words. “Sorry, team dinner again. Maybe next week?”

-

“Rinnie, was thinking of seeing the new Barbie movie with you. Wanna go on Friday?” you ask with hopeful eyes. the Barbie movie was gaining so much popularity lately, it was hard to go about your days without seeing spoilers.

he pauses, before running a hand through his messy dark hair, “Sorry, babe. The team already asked me to go with them. I can rewatch it with you some other time though?”

“No need,” you shake your head with a wry smile.

“Have fun, Rin.”

you end up going to the theatres alone and shoving popcorn in your mouth every time the couples next to you giggle.

the last straw was when he flaked on your usual Thursday lunch break meetup. the two of you would sit on the rooftop together and enjoy picking at each others food. it would often end in you being cuddled into his chest, enjoying the soft kisses down your neck.

the past few weeks, he hadn’t been present at all. he was physically there, but his mind was somewhere else. he’d be on his phone texting the team group chat you were obviously not in, and it was getting ridiculous. so when he fails to show up this week, you begin to wonder how much more of this you’ll put up with.

he doesn’t text you back for the rest of the day, and while you wish you could say you were angry, you were more so disappointed. was expecting him to prioritize you asking for too much? was it unreasonable to want to be chosen first? was love meant to hurt this much?

you make your way to the gymnasium once again after class. your face that once held a happy smile is replaced with a blank look, as you are unable to force yourself to look something you do not feel.

you walk in without a care of the volleyballs being thrown across the room, but you stop when you spot Akira, dimpled brown-haired Akira, who is in your Rintarou’s sweater. the sleeves fall below her hands, and the sweater paws look horrifically adorable. she smiles as she talks with the team, handing their water bottles to them. you wonder if you are imagining the glint in her eyes as she hands Rintarou his, their fingers brushing lightly as she gives it to him.

“[Name]!” a loud voice calls. it snaps you out of your daze, but you wish it hadn’t. tears begin to build in your eyes, so you turn around and walk out. you quickly wipe them away, thankful that your eyes don’t get red easily as you continue walking.

but then you hear footsteps. someone’s running towards you. you know it’s Rintarou, but you can’t face him right now. you speed up your steps, but he catches up with you in no time and softly grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

you rip your arm out harshly, frowning up at him.

he exhales, out of breath from practice and running. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”

he pauses, “Why do you look so upset?”

he moves closer to grab your face in his hands, but you take a step back, needing the space.

“Why… Why was she in your sweater, Rintarou?”

he frowns, eyes looking around as his mind scrambles to understand you. “Who? You mean Akira? She wasn’t feeling well during lunch so I gave her my sweater.”

your heart drops. so while you were waiting for him alone at the rooftop he was with her? your face twists; you aren’t sure what kind of expression you’re showing, but it must annoy Suna, as he scoffs quietly, sliding a hand over his face.

“You’re not upset over that, are you? Because I don’t remember you being so possessive like that.”

you bark out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him as you tilt your head, “Possessive? More like I’m fucking normal, Rintarou. With the way you’ve been neglecting me lately, this is just the cherry on top.”

you shake your head, ignoring his concerned eyes. “Go back to practice, Suna. I’m going home.”

you turn around, fully expecting to be pulled back, but nothing happens. you continue to walk, letting out a shaky exhale as you place your headphones on. tears slip out of your eyes as your vision begins to blur. you blink harshly, wondering why every situation seemed to leave you utterly alone.

✾

“She said something about Akira being in my sweater.” Suna dries his hair messily with the towel in his hands before leaving it draped on his neck.

Osamu shrugs, “Well, that’s a valid reason to be uncomfortable in my opinion.”

Aran nods in agreement beside him. “Yeah, you considered that maybe you pushed a boundary of hers?”

Suna frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face. his chest aches. he hates not being on good terms with you.

Atsumu comes out from the showers, stretching his arms as he yawns.

“How was yer lunch with her today? Did she seem upset earlier?”

Suna pauses at Atsumu’s words.

Lunch?

Today was…Thursday.

he stands, scrambling as he rummages through his bag for his phone. he quickly opens your contact and looks at your texts. he sighs with a heavy heart at what he sees. why didn’t he get your texts?

he checks to the settings, finding that he had your contact muted. he knows he could have never done that, so he traces his memory back to whoever had his phone. the only time he left his phone alone today was when he was with Akira in the nurses room.

putting the pieces together, he shuts off his phone and tosses it back into his bag.

“Fuck.”

-

Suna looks for you on Friday, but you manage to slip away every time he got close. he sat in your usual seat in class, only for you to sit up at the front close to the door. when class was over, you quickly packed your bags and was out before he could blink.

when he looked for you at lunch, he found you surrounded by your friends. you must’ve told them something, because the moment they saw him they glared before huddling closer to you as if to protect you. he rolls his eyes at the thought but is happy you have such caring friends.

he waits by your locker after school, crossing his arms and leaning on the cool metal. he has practice, but he has priorities. and perhaps he neglected you for the past three weeks, but he knows he can fix this. he can be better.

but when you don’t show up, he wonders what the point of being better is if you’re not there.

his eyes trace the lines in the concrete as he walks towards the gym. the rest of practice he’s off his game, with sloppy spikes and weak serves. sure, he gets told off by Kita but it’s not as bad as the pain of potentially losing you.

Akira walks up to him after practice. she taps his shoulder. “Hey, Suna. I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Illusion Cafe with me this weekend? I know you love sweets and I heard lots of good things!” she smiles sweetly, but all Suna can focus on is the sweater she is wearing. it’s his.

more importantly, it’s yours.

he frowns, “No. I’m gonna spend that time with my girlfriend.”

Akira’s expression drops into a slight scowl. his eyebrow twitches at the mere sight. why would she be angry that he’s spending time with his girlfriend?

“Oh…Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” she says with a tight lipped smile.

he looks back at the sweater before glancing at her face. “I won’t. Also, I’d like my sweater back sometime soon, thanks.”

her face reddens at his comment. she nods, embarrassed, before scurrying away.

Suna sighs, walking to the locker room and wondering how he was gonna get you to talk to him.

-

the team walks out of the gym, with Suna tuning their mindless rambling out. he stretches, finding his eyes seem heavier than usual. he hadn’t slept well last night, unused to you being angry with him that it left him so unsettled he couldn’t sleep.

“Oh, looks like the basketball team is also going home.”

it’s something insignificant. something Suna thought he’d look over at and forget the next second. but then he sees you.

you, with your arm wrapped around another guy’s arm. he’s tall, taller than Suna. muscular too, and his dark blue hair is captivating. Suna stops walking, causing the rest of the team to take a second glance at what he is looking at.

“Holy shit, is that [Name]? What’s she doin’ with those scrubs?” he distantly hears Atsumu say, but all is on his mind is he needs to get you away from that guy now. away from him and into his arms.

you’re laughing, happy for the first time in three weeks until you hear the rushed footsteps that are approaching you.

“[Name], let’s talk.” Suna demands. unfortunately for him, you’re not in the mood to talk anymore.

you unwrap your arm, looking at Suna directly. “No thanks. Maybe next time.” you quote his favourite line he’d used on you countless times recently. it seems he realizes, as his face crumples.

“Who’s this dolt?” the tall blue haired man asks, and Suna’s eyebrow twitches in irritation. who does this guy think he is?

you sigh, “Sorry, Aomine. This is my…boyfriend.”

Aomine’s brows raise. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to get in the way.”

you shake your head, ignoring the other basketball members who surround you. “You’re not in the way, let’s go home, please.”

Suna walks in front of you, stopping you from moving. you exhale, exhausted from the long three weeks and wanting nothing more than to be in your bed.

“You want me to deal with him, [Name]?” Kagami asks from the side, sliding his sleeves up as Suna’s eyes widen.

a new voice comes from behind Suna, “Deal with him? Yer gonna havta deal with us too then.” Atsumu stands in front of Suna, eyes blazing with confidence. even Kita stands off to the side, seemingly ready to physically intervene. you want to laugh at the scene.

you shake your head at the almost comedic situation in front of you, before clapping your hands loudly. “Okay! That’s enough. Volleyball kids, go on your way. Basketball kids, also go on your way. Suna and I will talk as he walks me home.”

Suna’s eyes light up at your words, but you ignore his gaze. he wasn’t forgiven quite yet.

the rest of them begin to make their way out of the school grounds, except for Suna and Aomine. Aomine looks down at you, bending to your height, “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”

you smile at his overprotectiveness, “No thanks, I got this. Thank you though, really.” he smiles and ruffles your hair, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hug him tightly.

Suna stands off to the side, silently seething yet knowing he has no place to tell you what to do, especially not now.

Aomine leaves soon after, with a soft wave and a promise to beat Suna up if he tries anything funny. you glance at Suna who looks unsure and out of place.

“Let’s go?” you don’t wait for an answer and begin walking. you hear soft shuffling as he walks beside you and takes small glances that he thinks are discreet.

you arrive at a park near your house. you take a seat on the swings, Suna carefully doing the same. you wait for him to speak, as you’re all out of love and words to give at the moment.

“So… I think- No I know, I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.” he stands, moving to position himself in front of you. he bends down, crouching to meet your gaze.

“I was very neglectful these last few weeks. I have no excuse, and I know I’ve hurt you.”

he slowly moves to grab your hand; you allow him, as he brings your limp hand to kiss the back. “I want you to know I made it clear to Akira that you’re my number one. You’re the one I always want, no matter what. I can’t even believe my dumbass made you doubt that.”

he shakes your head, looking down before glancing up. you notice tears building in his lash-line, causing you to sit up in alarm.

“I am seriously so fucking sorry for missing our lunch dates, dinners, and for giving her my sweater.”

you grab his face gently, wiping your thumbs beneath his eyes.

“I’ll burn the sweater, I swear.”

you roll your eyes, squishing his cheeks gently.

he grabs your arms, kissing your inner wrists softly as he looks up at you. “Will you give me a second chance? I promise I won’t fumble.”

the sweet moment is broken, then, as you scoff out a laugh. “You’re not going to fumble me, Rintarou.”

he smiles, cat-like eyes with a lazy grin. “Damn right. Gotta treat you like the princess you are.”

you pout, “Not a queen?”

he laughs, a deep raspy sound. he stands up and tilts his head down to kiss your nose.

“Princess, queen, anything. So long as you’re mine.”

EXTRA:

"So, who was that asshole earlier?"

you shove his shoulder gently, "He's not an asshole! He's my friend. Didn't you know I'm friends with the basketball team? I used to be their manager."

Rintarou scoffs, "Yeah, I knew that, just didn't know those guys were so close to my girl."

you look at him with a blank face.

"Right, and I was the one who was possessive. Sure."

he whines softly, low in his throat as he moves his face into your neck, "I said I was sorry!"

a/n: suna brainrot😵‍💫