#suna rintaro

[evey-s2]

[orquideaamor]

Suna Rintaro x reader

Requests r open

Warnings: She/Her prns used, situationship, mentions of sex, cussing

The roommates r based on my own roommates I love them sm. We handle each other with such love and care and our relationships with each other are so fun and loving!!

Dividers by my goat @pixopix and @thecutestgrotto

“You and our little manager have sure been hangin’ around each other a lot more often,” Atsumu points out, and Suna freezes, fighting the urge to glance at how Osamu reacted to that.

Atsumu was right. Suna had been hanging out with their manager a lot more often lately. You were in the same class, and you sat next to him at the beginning of the year, him being the only person you were close to, making you table mates for specials. Because of this, you oftentimes did homework together after practice, and that delved into just going out to cafes on weekends to hang out, even if there was no weekend homework.

Osamu didn’t say a word.

“Yeah, we’re in the same class, so she helps me with the homework since I’m always fallin’ asleep,” Suna replies in a nonchalant mumble. “That’s it. We were in the same friend group in junior high, and she’s our manager. She’s just a friend.”

“If ya say so,” Osamu shrugged, eyes baring straight through Suna, and Suna could tell that he saw straight through that lie.

You and Osamu had broken up amicably halfway through first year, feeling you both were better as friends. You two were very very good at being private, so only your families knew this. You continued being the volleyball team’s manager, and continued being friends with Osamu and Atsumu. Sure, rumors would come and go about you two, but you didn’t care. If someone asked, you’d tell them the truth, that you both decided you’re better off as friends.

It never stopped the rumor mill, and that was why Suna was scared. What if those things were true? What if Osamu just agreed with you so you wouldn’t feel bad? Osamu could say he agreed with you all he wanted, but that very well could be a lie. Osamu was calmer than Atsumu. Osamu was better at lying than Atsumu. Osamu was everything Atsumu was not, and that’s what Suna was scared of. Whereas Atsumu would tell him he had a problem with Suna getting closer to his ex, Osamu wouldn’t. Osamu would quietly cut him off and Suna couldn’t handle that. As nonchalant and cool he liked to act, he was deeply emotional. But, Suna would never ask Osamu if it was okay to pursue their manager. It was taboo to ask if it was okay and worse to not and do it anyway. Osamu is Suna’s best friend.

Suna didn’t argue with Osamu, for fear of looking guilty.

“You were friends since junior high and ya never had crushes on each other?” Atsumu asked, curious and unable to read the room.

“Nah, man,” Suna replied cooly. “And we weren’t friends, we just had some mutual friends. Plus, I’d never break Bro Code.”

Damning words. Suna regretted saying that the moment they were already coming out of his mouth. Not before, not after. Actively.

Osamu furrowed his brow at him, shaking his head incredulously, as if he was annoyed nobody believed him. “I don’t care man. If any of ya want ‘er, go for ‘er.”

Suna would rather shit in his hands and clap than go for you explicitly.

“Yo, I’m more than good,” he replied. “I’ve got a roster-“ not true- “and she’s not even my type.”

“She’s not yer type?!” Atsumu practically spat out his food in utter shock. “She’s practically the manifestation of Sunarin’s Type!”

“Bro, what?” Suna sat there in shock, just wanting to leave this conversation.

“Rin!” you call out with your dinner and some papers in hand.

He cringes, internally wanting to die, but the sound of your voice getting closer made him want to live longer to hear whatever you had to say to him.

“Rin, I know we said we’d meet for the music project tomorrow so we could brainstorm, but I got kind of excited and pumped out a bunch of ideas,” you ramble nervously, handing him the bunch of different papers. “You can look over them whenever.”

“Sounds great!”

“Heyyy, ____,” Astumu says playfully.

“Hey guys, sorry I sorta ignored you!” you apologize quickly to the twins. “Was just excited. Don’t forget there’s morning practice tomorrow at 6am.”

“Yes, ma’am!” they reply.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you walk away, flashing them a blinding smile over your shoulder.

“Well, she sure wants ya,” Osamu says. “You should shoot yer shot, man.”

“If I wanted her I would,” Suna scoffed, irritated, placing the amalgamation of papers into his bag carefully. “But I don’t!”

“Fine,” Osamu shrugged, but his eyes scanned Suna’s face.

Suna’s thoughts ran wild as they ate silently, Atsumu finally catching the vibe.

“Why’d you totally blow me off today?” you confront Suna one day after practice.

“Yer so clingy,” he mutters, and you scoff.

“You’re so mean,” you retort. “Why do you act so different when we’re at school?”

“Different from what?” he shrugs, daring you to answer him, get you and your roommates in trouble.

“I hate you,” you say through your teeth, glaring up at his slouched form.

That seems to gut-punch him out of whatever mood he’s in. As you speed walk away, tears in your eyes, he groans in frustration.

“Wait, wait, ____! I didn’t mean it!”

He doesn’t run after you.

Instead, he shows up at your door with a small bouquet of flowers. Conveniently, he knew your roommate wasn’t in the dorm.

“____, I’m sorry for blowing ya off and being an asshole this afternoon,” he apologizes, thrusting the flowers into your arms. “I understand if ya don’t wanna hang out anymore.”

You sigh, and smile as you look down at the flowers.

“Just don’t do it again, Rin,” you articulate. “Wanna play some Forza?”

He smirks as he saunters in behind you, “I’ll even letcha win this time.”

You woke up to a flash of light in your face, and shoot up to see your roommate.

“Yo, what’s wrong with you, bro?” you groan, rubbing your eyes, not really wondering why you’re so uncharacteristically warm.

She giggles, “Nothin’.”

“Fuck you mean, ‘nothin’’?”

She holds her laughter in, pointing behind you on your bed. You roll your eyes, thinking, now what? When you turn your head, you realize why you’re warm. There’s a boy in your bed, sleeping. His long arms were wrapped around your waist, but now that you’ve sat up they’ve slipped down to your hips. You quickly compute that this is Suna. Suna Rintaro. Sunarin. Rin. Rinnie. Your crush. Your friend.

He’s dead asleep, light snores leaving his mouth now that his head is tilted strangely.

“I’m sorry!” you hiss at your roommate, genuinely embarrassed and feeling guilty. “We didn’t mean to fall asleep, I should have let you know-“

“Girl, I don’t give a fuck,” she interrupts you. “Just don’t let me wake up to y’all humpin’.”

Your eyes blow out wide to that, and you shake your head viciously as your stomach drops from further humiliation.

“No, we- we aren’t dating,” you stutter, starting to ramble and laugh nervously. “And I would never- Even if we were dating, you know, which we’re not, uh, I wouldn’t- not until we’re both ready and not until we have a private space, never here, in the dorms. And, like, especially not around you, you’re my best friend, I wouldn’t-“

“Baby, baby, baby,” she stops you. “It’s okay. I know you wouldn’t. Just go to sleep.”

You nod sleepily, grabbing your bonnet from the corner of your headboard, and slipping it on. She notices you fumbling with the long straps in the back, and giggles.

“Need help?”

“Yes please,” you whine, giving up just as some hair slips out. She carefully tucks your hair back into the bonnet, pulling the straps around your head. She ties it the way you like it, not too tight it’ll trigger a migraine, but not too loose it’ll fall off during the night.

“Thank you,” you yawn, hugging her.

“You’re welcome, baby,” she coos, hugging you back tighter. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you whisper, turning towards Suna, and tucking yourself into his chest.

“Are you mad at me?” Suna asks you in the library as you study together for your entrance exams.

“What made you think that, Rin?” you mutter dryly, the top of your pen in between your lips. You didn’t want to chew on it and taste metal in your mouth, but you still needed to satiate the need to have it on your face.

“Dude, are you serious?” he asks, genuinely taken aback. “You haven’t been texting me back as quickly-“

“I’m busy studying, Rin,” you answer.

“You’re super dry on text, on call, and in person-“

“I’m super stressed out right now, bro,” you sigh frustratedly, finally looking up at him.

“But your girl friends get to see you,” he finishes. “Your girl friends get to have you not irritated, paying attention to them, and smiling and laughing!”

“My girl friends don’t rely on me for good grades,” you mutter.

“You offered to tutor me,” he spits back.

“And it’s all we do other than game,” you spit back before mocking him. “‘Oh, ____, can you help me with the math homework tonight? Can you help me with our lap report? Did you do the English homework? What about the Japanese lit? Let’s do homework and study at the cat cafe on Kobe Tor!’ Maybe just stay awake in class for once!”

Suna’s shocked into silence, and packs up his stuff.

“You’re being mean,” he says finally as he slings his bookbag over his shoulder.

“I was being honest,” you double down, and he scoffs, shaking his head.

You don’t bother watching him walk away.

You never apologized for your outburst. You and Suna just… stopped talking. Atsumu tried asking you what was going on, and nobody told him anything.

You managed the team as normal, just quieter, less outgoing. Still friends with everyone, just distancing yourself. Suna had his world of volleyball, and you had your world of academics. It was fine. You didn’t need him. He wasn’t food or water. Much less air.

In fact, if Rin was anything, he was a WASTE of air, you would justify it to yourself. He’s a bum, he’s lazy, even in games.

You don’t even bother listening to him and Osamu talk to each other about what colleges they got into. You didn’t give a damn.

Damn, you missed Rin. You wished you could text him instead of just stalking his instagram. He was in Shizuoka prefecture, like you. He was attending Shizuoka University on the Shizuoka campus on a sports scholarship and a business major. He had it listed in his instagram and twitter bio. You didn’t dare like any of his posts or stories when he posted.

You were an hour and twenty minutes away in Hamamatsu. That was nothing. That wasn’t even long distance, that was a day trip.

“Whatcha doin’?” your roommate asks, peaking over your shoulder. You flinch, your phone getting thrown in the air in a particularly dramatic fashion. You let it fall on the bed. “Checking Suna’s Insta, I see.”

“Shut up,” you whine, rolling over on your bed to make space for her to climb in. She crawls in next to you, careful not to touch you.

“I love a good stalking, but it gets to a point,” she comments. “This guy isn’t even your ex, you guys just fumbled each other in high school. You’re in your third year of college.”

“Yeah, like you haven’t fumbled every hot girl you come across,” you retort, and she shoves your shoulder lightly.

“Stooooop!” she yells dramatically, getting on her phone.

Suna knew he had a game in Hamamatsu. He knew you went to school in Hamamatsu. He knew you went to the Shizuoka University of Art and Culture. He knew that was the school they were playing against. The nearer the bus got to your school, the more his heart thumped in his chest. The more his finger tingled. The more his stomach turned.

His conversation with Osamu hung over him like a storm cloud.

“Why did ya lie, back in high school?” Osamu had asked him as they sat on his couch, passively watching some soccer game on the sports channel.

“Bro, what the fuck are ya talking about?” Suna turned to him, incredulous.

“About liking ____. Why did ya lie?”

That stops Suna in his tracks. He can’t even come up with an answer or a lie to get out of this conversation again.

Osamu takes advantage of Suna’s shell shock.

“Don’t even think about lying to get out of this, man,” he had patted Suna’s shoulder. “I know ya liked ‘er. I know ya still like ‘er.”

“I’m sorry,” is all Suna can muster up.

“Fer what?”

“Fer liking yer ex, bro,” Suna sighed, ignoring the hot stinging feeling behind his eyes. “I didn’t pursue ‘er cause I didn’t want to lose yer friendship. But, we kept on getting closer, and I felt like we couldn’t hang out just for the sake of hanging out, cause then that’s a date, an’ I could never do that to ya, Osamu, an’ that’s why we fought. Cause she felt like I was usin’ ‘er for tutoring.”

Osamu sits next to Suna, looking at him with a dumbfounded expression before morphing into something absolutely insulting.

“Are ya fuckin’ stupid?” he asks. “I told ya it was fine to go for ‘er.”

“You could be lying fer all I know,” Suna defends himself.

Osamu turns his entire body to face Suna, grabbing his shoulders.

“Sunarin, ya have a game at ‘er school this weekend,” he states very calmly. “Yer gonna go to Hamamatsu, yer gonna see ‘er on campus, and yer gonna apologize fer bein’ a dick. An’ yer gonna beg fer ‘er ass back, y’hear?”

“Samu-“

“Sunarin,” he begins the same way. “I never liked ____, an’ she never liked me. We were pressured inta datin’ in first year by people who thought she sent a love letter into my locker. It wasn’t ‘er. Yer good. Now go get ‘er a gift, and get yer woman back.”

He held the book tightly to his chest. A simple pink ribbon was tied in a cross over it, a neat bow he had practiced and redone multiple times sitting on the top, not covering the title enough to obscure it.

When he got off the bus, he didn’t look around. He just stood there, grabbed his bag, and walked behind everyone else, lagging to tie his shoe.

When he rose up, he heard your voice.

“Sunarin?”

You never in a million years thought you would see Rin again. And here he was, having a practice match against your college. As tall as ever. As lazy as ever. Definitely hotter. Never mind you’re trying to get to the gym to go hit a workout, now you’ve stopped completely in your tracks.

He stands up from tying his shoelace, and you’re awoken from your stupor.

“Sunarin?”

He turns around like lightning, and all you do is stare at each other for a moment.

“____,” he says back.

“Suna, wh- what are you doing here?” you ask, but don’t give him time to answer. “Well, I know what you’re doing here, a practice match, but, like, woah. You’re here.”

“I need to apologize to ya,” he says quickly to stop your ramblings.

“Wha- no, I need to apologize to you-“

“I was a dick!” he exclaims. “I really really liked you, but didn’t wanna hurt Samu by askin’ ‘im if I could go after you, break bro code. But since I never asked, I never made a move on ya, so I jus’ took what I could get, which was you tutoring me.”

“Samu and I never liked each other,” you clarify softly, a hole in your chest. “There would have been no issue, Rin.”

“I know,” he sighs, embarrassed. “He jus’ told me this week.”

“Rin,” you begin. “I have to apologize, too. I said some pretty mean things during that last fight.”

“It was justified,” he doubles down. “You were holdin’ out for a guy who didn’t have the balls to ask for what ‘e wanted, an’ you lost yer patience.”

“I lost my patience, then, yeah,” you partially agree, getting closer to him. “But I think missin’ ya has blocked out all irritation I felt from that.”

“Ya missed me?” he asked lowly, teasingly, flirtatiously, and you nodded softly, grabbing his collar to pull him down and kiss you.

His arms engulf your waist as your hands reach into the nape of his neck and explore the back of his head.

“I bought ya a book to accompany my apology,” he murmurs once you let go of each other. “But, I don’t think I needed it.”

“You can give it to me on our first date instead,” you state confidently.

“In a bouquet,” he adds, and you quirk a brow.

“I still know what ya like,” he shrugs, pecking your cheek.

[orquideaamor]

Earrings by Malcolm Todd with situationship 2nd-3rd yr Sunarin and u guys never tell each other how u really feel until u meet again in 3rd/4th yr college WOOH give me a week

Edit 7/20 3a: yo I locked in so hard I posted it within 48 hours dawg 😭

[vodka-bunny]

Suna x Reader ☆ He Doesn’t Know It’s You Yet

Summary : You leave him things. He keeps every one of them, never once asking who, and you’re starting to realize you don’t want him to.

There was a boy who once crouched in the rain for two kittens who would never remember him, and a girl who never quite stopped thinking about it afterward. By now, that thinking had a shape. It had habits. It had a name it hadn't yet admitted to using.

You told yourself the coffee didn't count.

It was such a small thing: a can of the brand you'd watched him buy a dozen times from the corner store near his house, set neatly on the empty desk beside his in sports psychology. You'd arrived early, the way you always arrived early now for anything involving him, because early meant you could arrange a scene before anyone existed to witness you arranging it.

You watched, three rows back and one seat over, angled just enough to see without being seen. You had gotten frighteningly good at that particular geometry.

He sat down and noticed the can almost immediately, picking it up, turning it over once like he was checking for a note. He found none. He glanced around the room, unhurried, not alarmed so much as mildly curious, the way anyone might check who'd left something unexplained on their desk.

He didn't find you. Of course he didn't. You'd made certain of that.

He pocketed it. He drank it after class, unbothered, as though it hadn't occurred to him not to.

You didn't examine too closely why that felt like winning something.

The Chuupet came the next class. You told yourself that one didn't count either, mostly because you'd run out of ways to make the sentence sound true and had stopped bothering to fully believe it. It required knowing something no one should reasonably know about a stranger's snack preferences, something you'd learned weeks ago by accident, catching sight of the wrapper poking out of his gym bag and filing the detail away the same unthinking way you filed away everything else about him now. Automatically. Hungrily. Like your mind had simply decided this was what it did.

You left it in the same spot as the coffee. He picked it up between two fingers this time, studying it like it might be a joke at his expense, and looked around the room again, slower now, the way a person looks when they've started to suspect a pattern rather than an accident.

He still didn't find you.

He ate it twenty minutes later anyway.

The vending machine alcove outside the gym was empty when you arrived, which was the part you'd been counting on. Practice would end soon, and you needed a reason to be standing there when it did, something with the shape of coincidence rather than intent. You were scanning the selections, already reaching for the right change, when footsteps rounded the corner and stopped with the confident energy of someone who hadn't considered the space might already be occupied.

"Oh," said the arrival, recalibrating quickly. "Hey."

You glanced over. Tall, blond, the kind of person who filled a room through volume rather than effort. You recognized him vaguely, one of the two brothers who occasionally wandered into your sports psychology lecture and spent the hour needling each other instead of taking notes.

"Miya Atsumu," he said, as though the name alone might accomplish something.

"Okay," you said.

He blinked, visibly recalculating. "That's it? No, like, recognition?"

"You go to my psych lecture. Sometimes." You pressed the button for a bottle of strawberry lemonade.

"Right, but I'm also—" He gestured vaguely at himself, the gesture of a man used to the gesture doing most of the explaining. "Volleyball. National level. You've never noticed?"

"I've noticed you talk a lot during lectures."

"That's fair, actually." He said it with real satisfaction, like a compliment had been smuggled in somewhere. He leaned against the machine, undeterred. "So what, you here for practice? You a fangirl? Here to see the Miya twins? Best setter in the prefecture, for the record. Well. One of us, anyway."

You looked at him, then back at the machine, and pressed the button for your own drink. "That's nice," you said.

"That's, nice?"

"Mm."

"You're supposed to be at least a little starstruck. That's usually how this goes."

"I don't follow volleyball," you said, which was so thoroughly untrue you nearly laughed at the ease of it, though the beauty of a lie like that was precisely how completely it closed a conversation.

"No way. Seriously? Not even a little?" He studied you with the particular interest of someone whose usual approach had just failed for the first time in recent memory. "So what are you into, then?"

You collected your drink, slid it into your bag without ceremony, and straightened. "Leaving," you said, pleasantly, and did exactly that, leaving him standing in the alcove mid-sentence, one hand still raised like he'd been about to make a point that would have changed everything.

"Hey, wait, I didn't even get your—"

You didn't look back to see how long it took him to give up. You already knew Suna would be out within the next ten minutes, and you intended to be positioned for it.

The note was different. You understood that even as you wrote it, folding the small piece of paper with more care than the words probably warranted, tucking it into the gap at the top of his gym bag where you'd watched him keep a spare towel often enough to know exactly where it would sit.

You shouldn't dry your hair so roughly. It's not good for you.

You wrote it in your neatest hand, the kind reserved for things that mattered, and told yourself once more that this was simply an observation. You'd seen it through the gap in his blinds one evening weeks ago, towel around his shoulders, scrubbing at his hair with more force than it needed, the kind of careless motion that would thin it early if he kept it up for years. You hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since. A small thing. A caring thing, if you didn't look too closely.

It wasn't until you were walking away from the locker room, pulse loud in your own ears, that the full shape of what you'd done arrived all at once, with nowhere left to hide from it.

You hadn't seen that from a street, a bus stop, a park bench, any of the places you'd quietly convinced yourself counted as public, as accidental, as almost coincidence.

You'd seen it from outside his window. Close enough to see through blinds that were never meant to be seen through.

You stopped on the sidewalk outside the gym and let the word sit in your head, finally, without immediately arguing yourself out of it.

Stalking.

You didn't cry. You didn't feel the relief people always described, the release of finally naming something you'd been circling for weeks. What you felt instead was colder than that. Steadier. As though naming it hadn't changed anything at all, except that now you understood, with total clarity, that you were going to keep doing it anyway.

Suna found the note before practice, reaching for his towel with the same unthinking motion he used every day, and went still when his fingers closed around paper instead of terrycloth.

He read it twice before allowing himself to react to it at all.

You shouldn't dry your hair so roughly. It's not good for you.

The handwriting was neat, deliberate, almost soft-looking, though there was nothing soft about the fact that it existed. He didn't dry his hair roughly in public. He didn't dry his hair anywhere but his own bathroom, alone, door shut. Blinds he was fairly sure he never bothered closing all the way, because his apartment faced an alley, and who would be looking.

He didn't panic. Panic wasn't really in his range; he'd been called unbothered by enough people, often enough, that he'd started to believe it himself. What he did instead was think, methodically, the same unhurried way he processed a blocker's footwork or a setter's tell, running the note back through everything he knew and coming up short.

He looked around the locker room out of habit more than expectation. Osamu three lockers down, mid-complaint about a professor. Atsumu loud about something on the far side of the room. Nothing out of place. That, if anything, was the part that stayed with him.

He folded the note twice and put it in his bag rather than his pocket, as if distance from his own body might make it easier to examine later.

He didn't feel watched here, in a room full of familiar noise. Whatever this was, it hadn't come from inside these walls. Which meant, if he followed the thought all the way through, and he did, the same patient way he followed everything, that whoever had written it had been watching him somewhere he'd never once thought to check.

He said nothing to anyone. He got dressed. He went to practice, served, blocked, let Atsumu's noise wash past him as usual, and if his eyes drifted toward the gym windows more than the drill required, no one seemed to notice.

He noticed, though. He noticed everything. That was the problem, and he intended to keep noticing until it stopped being one.

prev

a/n : thanks for reading — 🐇 ♡

your likes, reblogs n comments really motivate me.

fun fact the handwriting in the image of the note is mine lol. also had to add atsumu cameo in this chapter bc i lowk wanna write him a separate story.

[mysterystarz]

You cannot just drop that visual and NOT elaborate on it…

And yes! I did take a look at your card

-kita anon🤍

ft: suna rintaro and taking pictures of your dates instead of confessing and/or defining your relationship...at least...at first

ps. @huhyeni (i remembered to tag you for suna hehe) @brooksviolin @mimi-sunny @karnevil

suna rintaro always carried two cameras with him every time the two of you went out.

one of them was the camera that lived in his pocket and also connected him to the stupidity of the miya twins, arguing yet again about who was the hotter one. the other one was a digital camera that he brought only when he came out with you. it lived in his left palm, ready at a minute's notice if he ever saw something worth snapping a picture of.

for the longest time in your not quite friendship, but not quite romance either relationship, you’d never entirely cracked the code to what counted as important enough to photograph. there were only a few categories that you could really think of.

option one was a fight between the twins, or anyone for that matter, over something rintaro considered wholly stupid and entirely memeable. option two was anything remotely funny looking. he once took a picture of a sports poster because it was so clearly photoshopped.

those were the only two instances you could say for sure. the other character — the unknown variable, showed up on your “dates.”

“what was that?” you asked, turning around to see the telltale flash of the digital camera behind you. suna looked at the image, nodding to himself before his green-gray eyes met yours.

“a picture,” he shrugged, “what else?”

“but what of?” you pried, doing your best to peak over at the screen. he palmed the camera instantly, holding it just out of reach.

“don’t worry about it.” he said, walking over to the next aisle in the grocery store. “you like a specific kind of popcorn right? let’s grab it. i don’t want you hangry during a movie.”

it always was that way. the two of you would go out on your adventures, frequent but mundane, and you’d always catch him taking pictures. one of the soda you made at 3 am at the gas station. one of the figurine you found at the mall that you swore looked like him. pictures of the swings where the two of you would go to speak your mind.

did he think you looked funny? was he collecting evidence of your travels? rintaro was mysterious by omission, more than aura. you could ask him many things, but it was rare that he’d give you a full answer.

and somehow….you still loved him. your treacherous heart. stuck in limbo in a situationship you so desperately wanted to change.

your phone rang at 11 pm, rintaro’s contact flashing across your screen. you waited for a moment, not wanting to seem too eager before you finally picked up.

“hello?” you asked, waiting to hear his voice over the line.”

“hi.” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual. “are you free?”

“why do you ask?” you said, feeling your pulse spike in your chest. it was always this way. a few words from him over the phone had your legs turning into putty.

“i…want to show you something.”

you paused. “okay,” you said, probably against your better judgement.

he exhaled, almost exhaustedly. “be ready in five.”

“that’s quicker than usual.” you murmured.

“this can’t wait.” he said finally, hanging up the line.

the entire time you dressed, your head spun with ideas. was he planning to cut off your friendship? was he going to move away? did he commit a crime?

you walked outside when you saw the headlights of his car, stepping into the passenger side with all the practice of a million undefined dates.

“you look nice,” he smiled. SMILED. he tilted his head in appreciation before turning back to the steering wheel. “thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“you’re being nice.” was all you could spit out, “are you an alien.”

he blinked in awe of your imagination, his telltale sigh escaping his lips. “leave it up to be weird. only you would think a compliment means i’m an alien.”

he chuckled quietly and dryly, pulling out of your driveway and to wherever it is he wanted to go.

the two of you reached a secluded field, the sky starry and rich above you. you fell still for a moment, reaching to trace the constellations with your fingers.

“where did you find this place?” you muttered. he joined you at the top of his car, reclining back to see your view.

“i found it.” he shrugged. “so. the reason i brought you here isn’t just stargazing.”

you turned your gaze back to him, finding a slightly nervous expression on his face for the first time in what seemed like forever.

“then?” you asked, only to have him pass his digital camera over to you.

“you’ve been wanting to see them.” he said. “go through the photos.”

almost tenderly, you touched the button to power on the camera, clicking the arrows to go through the sd cards contents. you’d thought you’d find dumb pictures of your adventures….but instead you found….you.

pictures of your head tilted back in laughter. pictures of you swearing that figuring was him and trying to prove it in the mirror. a picture of both your hands on movie night, just a pinky apart from touching.

“rin?” you asked almost breathlessly, turning to find his eyes fixed on you.

“i’ve been taking pictures of our dates for a while.” he admitted. “i wanted to keep them.”

“that’s nice.” you said, shifting uncomfortably.

“i wanted to keep them because i was wondering if you wanted to make it official.”

your eyes widened.

“what?”

he smirked ever so slightly, reaching to touch your fingers.

“i want to date for real.”

© all content belongs to mysterystarz 2026. please do not copy my works onto any other website/platform (including but not limited to tiktok, instagram, wattpad, ao3, or any AI chatbot)

so whatcha think ;) ?

[flowersforyen]

18+ MDNI - Band au!Suna || Strumming the chords

In which Suna helps you test your endurance on his amp…?

cw: overstimulation, praise, oral f!recieving, improper use of amp, finger fucking, soft dom Suna

“Up you go.” He grinned as his rough hands gripped at your waist and hoisted you up onto the amp, your legs dangling off the edge and skirt rucking up your thighs. You watched as he plugged the amp into an outlet before sauntering over to his selection of electric guitars, his eyes tracing each one and tongue fiddling with his lip ring before he settled on a deep maroon guitar and took it off the wall hanger. Turning back towards you he noticed your eyes following his movements, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he slowly stalked towards you. Suna placed the guitar onto the floor and connected one end of the instrument cable into the output jack. The other end got connected to the input jack of the amp, followed by it being turned on.

He shifted to slowly kneel down in front of where you sat on the amp, adjusting the volume dial and tone knobs to high. His steady hand then found purchase on the bare skin of your thigh, heavy palms slowly sliding up to where the hem of your skirt had ridden up to. He slowly raised his head, his bangs covering a part of his eyes but failed to hide the excited glint within them. “Remember, you gotta last the entirety of the song.. got it, Angel?” he practically purred out, giving your thigh a rough squeeze before you could even sputter a word out. 

He then rose, his tall frame unfolding as he loomed over you, a grin tugging at his lips. Suna stepped back, effortlessly leaning down to drag the armless stool from the drum set. Positioning himself in front of you he picked up the guitar, fingers tracing the fretboard before turning up the guitar volume and strumming a chord. You yelped, eyes widening at the sheer force of the vibration you felt under you “You could have given me a warning!” you sputtered out, fingers now gripping the edge of the amp as you braced yourself for the next chord. 

Suna’s eyes gleamed at your reaction, his lip ring rotating as he tried to suppress the smirk threatening to break through. “Oh? Sorry Angel, I thought you were ready from how hard you were staring” he snickered out, the snark evident in his tone. “Okay Sweets, you ready now then?” he murmured, eyes locked on yours. Swallowing thickly you nodded, rooted to the spot.

The moment he started playing the song your thighs clenched, the amps vibrations coursing underneath you and the heavy melody filling the empty studio. His eyes remained locked on yours, his greedy gaze studying every minute reaction you gave him as his fingers effortlessly changed chords without even looking at them. Your eyes screwed shut as you tilted your head up, your knuckles turning pale as they gripped the amp tightly. Every time he played a particular riff he noticed the way your thighs would clench just a bit more, the way your bottom lip wobbled beneath your teeth and the strangled whines that managed to escape. 

Suna earnestly drank in the sight like a man starved, he leaned forward, fingers itching to touch you. Instead his knees spread slightly, nudging your thighs open wider so the vibrations wracked your body more. Your eyes shot open, a choked gasp leaving your lips as you panted. “D-Dont do that, Rintarou.” Without looking down you could feel the smug grin he was sporting from your reaction. “Don’t do what?” he gruffly replied, his voice and movements strained as he started to falter with some chords, his whole body running hot from seeing you struggle on top of the amp. Your whole body is shaking from the heavy vibrations and stimulation between your thighs, your skirt bunching around your hips as you squirm on top of the amp. 

Your eyes fluttered closed again and you tried to control your breathing even as heat pooled in your stomach, your skirt now showing the faint peak of the dampness of your underwear, how the sodden gusset of your panties began to cling to your soaked folds. Suna caught the sight from your constant shifting, eyes becoming increasingly hooded as he failed to tear his gaze away. “Aww Sweets.. you’re doing so well, the song’s nearly over.” He mockingly cooed, knees nudging your thighs open even wider now to get a better glimpse as his fingers began strumming out the chords harsher and much more impatiently. The music continued to reverberate throughout the studio, wrapping around the both of you. Every chord jolted through you setting your nerve endings on fire, your breathing now laboured as you struggled to stop yourself from grinding down onto the amp for some relief.

The song soon ended, Suna’s fingers raw from the intensity of his playing, a light sweat having broken across his forehead causing his shaggy bangs to slightly stick. Throughout it all he had kept his gaze locked on you. He carefully placed the guitar on the floor, eyes continuously locked onto yours before he slowly unfolded. Swallowing thickly, you saw as he loomed over you once again, dark eyes peering down at you with every harsh breath he took, rough fingers then lightly brushing against your cheek in an almost reverent manner before he lifted your chin up. 

“You did so well, Angel” he whispered as he hunched slightly, lanky frame curling down allowing his rough fingers to lightly trace the gusset of your underwear. Sucking in a harsh breath your body jerked involuntarily, your overly-sensistive folds readily reacting. A low strained groan slipped past his lips as his head fell to rest on your shoulders, heavy breaths warming it. “Rin, stop teasing-!” you choked out as Suna kept running his finger lightly over your clothed pussy before tugging the gusset to the side. 

“Fuck- can’t believe how wet you’ve gotten.” He groaned as he dropped to his knees in front of you, strong hands gently massaging the soft skin of your thighs before he leaned in, nose nudging at one whilst looking up at you with hooded eyes. “Let me have a taste, please Sweets… just one.” He practically begged using all his self-restraint not to dive right in. Once given the green light, he didn’t hesitate to tug off your panties and eagerly lick a long stripe up your pussy, a low grunt leaving his mouth at your taste. His thumbs then spread at your lips allowing him to taste even deeper, causing a shuddering sob to rip through you at the sensation, your already sensitive clit throbbing harder. One taste? What a liar.

With an almost intimate kiss to your clit he then leaned back, mouth glistening with your arousal and pupils blown wide. “Such a pretty pussy, I could never get tired of her. Now let’s get this out of the way..” he murmured as his palms pushed your skirt up to bunch around your hips before his hands tugged at your thighs to pull you to the edge of the speaker. Rough hands then lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders, urging you to cross your legs and trap him there. 

“She’s drooling so much..” he teased, thumbing at your folds once more to unveil the slick already gathering. This time Suna focused on your clit more, lightly sucking at the throbbing nub before applying more pressure, the cool metal of his snakebites creating a delicious contrast against your heated clit. “Mmm that feel good?” he mocked, knowing that the sensation was overwhelming for you. Your fingers scrambled to seek purchase at his scalp, tugging at his messy hair as you sought stability. Each lick, suck and kiss sent jolts through your body, your eyes screwed shut and legs quivering as you bucked into him. “She’s sensitive when given a little attention, huh?” he purred out about your clit before taking it back into his mouth once more. “F-fuck Rin.. s’too much” you whined as his tongue began to prod deeper, his nose continuously nudging at your clit providing dual stimulation, the tension in your lower stomach growing unbearable. 

“C’mon Angel” His words muffled against your dripping heat “You’re getting so close, I can feel it.” His grip on your thighs becoming tighter as he attempted to suffocate himself under your pussy. “Sho messy… isn't she?” He continued to babble out about your pussy, his words slurred and muffled.

Suna then slipped a long finger in, massaging on your spongy spot before doubling down and inserting a second digit, thumb rubbing at your clit causing your pussy to drool more down his hand making it sticky. The heat in your lower stomach coiling even more as you feel your release steadily building up “‘m so close, Rin” you gasped out, back arching almost painfully as your release threatened to spill. Feeling you clench around his fingers he starts to thumb at your clit to provide the extra stimulation.

“Fuck! ‘m cumming!!” you mewled as he worked you through your orgasm, sloppily making out with your pussy and not letting any juices go to waste. When your high started to ebb he slowed down his movements, fingers lazily working you through it. With a final sweet kiss to your clit he lifted his head. Tilting your head down to meet his gaze you could see your release had coated his chin and lips and that his trousers had tented obscenely. “Y’did so well for me, Angel” he murmured, pressing a few kisses to your shaky thighs. “All prepped for the main event now.”

First time writing smut, how scary

Thank you @mechanicrin for helping me edit this, i love u sis <3

kissesforeveryonemwuah

-anaiya

TAGLIST - @karnevil

[vodka-bunny]

Suna x Reader ☆ Small Campus

Summary: Some coincidences are made, not found. You're just careful enough that he hasn't noticed the difference yet.

You knew he lived in a narrow house past the park, the kind with a low fence and a porch light that came on automatically at dusk, third from the corner. You knew he took the stairs instead of the elevator, always, even carrying his gym bag, even when it clearly would have been easier not to. You knew the corner store two blocks from his building sold the specific brand of canned coffee he liked, and that he stopped there more days than not, and that his snack of choice, without fail, was Chuupet, the cheap jelly fruit sticks sold in nearly every convenience store on campus. You'd seen him unwrap one outside the gym so many times that you'd started noticing the brand on the shelf yourself, unprompted, the way a word you've just learned suddenly appears everywhere.

You bought one, once. Told yourself it was curiosity, nothing more, and ate it walking back from class with the faint, absurd sense of participating in something private. It tasted okay. You finished it anyway.

The fox had started the same way, a small, private observation you hadn't meant to keep. Something about the shape of his eyes, narrow and a little sharp at the corners, unbothered in a way that read as faintly predatory even when he wasn't doing anything at all. You'd thought it once, in passing, and then you'd bought the burnt orange yarn.

You told yourself none of this meant anything. That knowing a person's habits wasn't the same as acting on them, that you weren't doing anything except occasionally walking the direction he happened to be walking, at the time he happened to be walking it. If you squinted, it was almost coincidence.

You had stopped being able to squint that hard.

Thursday, you nearly lost him.

A professor who ran ten minutes over, a friend who caught your arm in the hallway wanting to discuss a project you barely cared about, and by the time you made it outside, the window you'd learned to rely on was already closing. You knew, from three weeks of quiet, careful observation, that if you didn't reach the corner by the sports science building within the next few minutes, you'd miss him entirely, and the whole evening would stretch out ahead of you feeling strangely unfinished, the way a held breath feels wrong until it's let out.

So you walked faster than you meant to. Then faster than that.

You caught sight of him just as he was cutting through the edge of the campus park, gym bag over one shoulder, unhurried in the way he always was, completely unaware that anyone behind him was rushing at all.

Relief hit first, disproportionate to something this small. Shame followed close behind it, the recognition that you'd felt relief over something you had no right to feel anything about.

You slowed your pace to match a safer distance and clutched your bag out of habit. That was when you registered the absence rather than the object itself. The clasp of your keychain had been open, and your keychain nowhere in sight. You were still looking down when the footsteps ahead of you slowed, then stopped.

Suna had felt something hit the back of his shoe before he heard it. A small, soft thud against leather, nothing sharp enough to be a rock. He glanced down and found a small crocheted fox lying in the grass, a thin cord trailing from it like it had torn loose from something.

He picked it up, turning it once between his fingers. Handmade, unmistakably, one ear a little longer than the other, the orange yarn slightly uneven at the seams. He looked behind without expecting to find anything and found you instead, frozen mid-step, staring at the fox in his hand as though it had personally betrayed you.

"This yours?" he asked. His voice was as flat as it always sounded, not unkind, simply unbothered, as though a stranger's dropped keychain were a mildly interesting footnote to an otherwise unremarkable evening.

You closed the distance faster than was probably dignified. "Yeah. Sorry, the clasp on my bag doesn't close right." True, and beside the point, and you knew it even as you said it.

He held it out. Your fingers brushed his for half a second, and you were irritated with yourself for noticing.

"A fox," he said, not quite a question, studying it now that it had left his hand. "Someone make that for you?"

"I made it." You tucked it back into your bag, checking the clasp with more attention than it had received all week. "I’m still learning. It's not — it’s not very good."

"Didn't say it wasn’t good." He looked at you for a second longer than the conversation strictly required, something unreadable behind his eyes, and you had the sudden, uncomfortable sense of being looked at properly for the first time. Not glanced past, not walked by, but actually seen. "Why a fox?"

"No reason," you said, too quickly, and busied yourself with checking if it’s sturdy on your bag instead of meeting his eyes. Your face tightened because the reason himself was asking you why you made it.

"Mm." He said and was already looking back down the path, gym bag shifting on his shoulder like he was getting ready to keep walking. "You go to the gym block? Sports science?"

The question landed harder than it should have. "Psych building. Just cutting through."

"Huh." He didn't push it, didn't seem particularly invested either way. "Small campus."

"Yeah," you managed. "Small campus."

He gave a short nod, the kind that closes a conversation without being rude about it, and started walking again, unhurried, the same as always. You stood there a moment longer than you should have, watching his back get smaller down the path, the crocheted fox now warm in your palm from where his hand had held it.

You told yourself, walking the opposite direction now, taking the long way so it wouldn't look like you were following the same route, that it had gone fine. Normal. A completely ordinary conversation between two strangers about a dropped keychain. Nothing had been given away. He hadn't looked at you like he suspected anything.

Small campus, he'd said. Like that explained everything. Like it wasn't strange at all, that the two of you kept ending up in the same six-block radius of the city at exactly the same time, week after week.

Suna thought about it longer than he expected to, later, lying on his bed with the ceiling fan clicking overhead.

Not the keychain. The girl. Something in the way she'd looked at him before catching herself, smoothing her expression back into something politer, more composed, like she'd been startled by more than a dropped keychain.

He didn’t think much of it, not really. People get flustered by small things all the time. Dropping something in front of a stranger was mildly embarrassing regardless of who was picking it up.

Still, "psych building, cutting through" sat oddly with him, faintly, the same low static he'd felt once or twice before on this exact stretch of park, a word sitting just behind his teeth he couldn't quite reach.

It wasn't sharp enough to chase.

So, the same as before, he let it go.

prev next part

a/n : thanks for reading — 🐇 ♡

your reblogs n comments motivate me

[flowersforyen]

Boyfriend!Suna who prefers to stay in and watch a movie with you. Both of you sprawled across the sofa, blankets and pillows scattered everywhere. You're both not even watching the movie properly, mainly on your phones, but in some way he's always grounded to you - legs intertwined, hands brushing, playing with your hair. He always has some form of contact with you.

Boyfriend!Suna who worries he'll lose you in public when you decide to wander off. His solution? Well, it's to keep you anchored to him by tugging at your belt loops or slipping a steady arm around your waist. He likes using his calloused hand to gently palm at your waist to keep you anchored to him. The second you even think about slipping away, he’s pulling you back before leaning down slightly and raising an eyebrow at you. 

Boyfriend!Suna who loves it when you play with his hands. When you gently trace around the numerous callouses littering his hands from intense volleyball training or when your smaller fingers mindlessly fiddle with his larger ones. 

Boyfriend!Suna who likes to keep a part of you with him throughout the day. One of your hairbands? Fake nail glue he keeps just in case one of yours falls off again? The little hand cream you love the smell of so much? Either way he's always prepared if you need anything.

Boyfriend!Suna who acts like you've been married for 30 years already. He keeps a photo of you in his wallet - although it's tearing at the sides and has creases, it's still his most prized possession. 

Boyfriend!Suna who tries to get you a sweet treat after his practice. There's a bakery which you love close to the gym. Every so often he comes back to your shared apartment, hiding the box behind his back, fox eyes softening slightly at the edges as you squeal in delight and place the box on the counter before launching at him to give him a hug.

Boyfriend!Suna whose friends all know about you. They know your favourite flowers, snacks, movies.. the list is endless. “My girlfriend did this..”, “Oh my girlfriend likes…”.  All because this emotionally constipated man actually never shuts up about you.

Boyfriend!Suna whose love language is quality time. You could be sitting in silence or be out and about. Either way, all he wants to do is spend time with you regardless of what you're doing.

Boyfriend!Suna who hides when he's flustered very well. Except you've realised that his ears tinge the faintest pink and so does his neck which he often tries to hide by placing his hand over it.

Boyfriend!Suna who never got over his nerdy interests as a kid. He still collects pokemon cards and you know he’ll give you any of the ones you want, always reserving the cute ones for you. 

Boyfriend!Suna who loves to make playlists for you. Any songs that remind him of you are immediately added and he’s always playing them on repeat. He loves to create playlists for the both of you and always listens to new music you recommend him.

Boyfriend!Suna whose camera roll is full of pictures of you. Most of them being candids he took when you weren't looking - one of you brushing your teeth in the mirror, another of you feeding some ducks at a pond… all of these little moments he can’t bear to delete. 

Boyfriend!Suna who loves to tease you and make you squirm - it’s his way of showing affection towards you. He’ll purposely tighten lids of jars just so you’d go to him, a pout adorning your lips as you begrudgingly ask for help. He’d also place jars on the highest shelves just so you can ask for his help. He’d come up behind you, chest brushing against your back and rough hands gripping your waist before leaning up to retrieve said jar. All whilst acting nonchalant and trying to see if he can get a reaction from you.

my first post - lwk so scared

shoutout to my twin may who helped me brainstorm, mwuah i love u

i hope you guys like it :3

- anaiya