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undermattsun-archive · 4 years ago

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make me

(skate rat) suna rintarou x fem!reader | w.c 8.5k

a/n: i hate myself but don’t worry bout it, so here’s another instance of me torturing miya!reader, i think she’s neat and suffering is fun <3 this is rlly just reader has a crisis about fuckin her older brothers’ friend + getting fingered by her brother(s) and a big fat thank to @pomsuki + @bakatenshii for givin this all a lookie look and @theygottheircages for being the final beta for this behemoth love u all mucho <33

note: there is a dash of miya twins x reader, and a light sprinklin’ of kita x reader

18+ university age | pls read all warnings

warnings: INCEST, blackmail, dubcon, alcohol, drug use (weed), degradation, dumbification (slight), anxiety, insecurity, jealousy, manipulation, coercion, public sex, dubcon pic, blood, no condom

read show me + tell me first to understand readers plight!!!

To say the dread of going back home for spring break had been eating away at you would be a sore understatement. After the Kita incident, followed by the events with your brothers, you truly couldn’t be far enough from your hometown.

Yet it wasn’t the shame or the taboo of it all or even the physical and emotional duress during those encounters that made you want to stay away. No.

It was how much you wanted to relive it.

You had woken up that next day, wiped clean, dressed in your pajamas and tucked in sweetly. Body sore and spent, you found Osamu-nii waiting with a fresh plate of french toast and Atsumu-nii teasing you in a kinder fashion while pulling you closely to his side.

It felt like a dream, the kindness and domesticity you had been wishing from them for years finally presenting itself. Resulting in the rest of the break spent preening under the sweet attention of your brothers and to your pleasant —and teenage dreamesque— surprise, on the last night before heading back to university, Kita had made an appearance, tapping at your window, a devilish look in his eyes.

It was a dream.

A dream that shattered the second you stepped back into your dorm room, the weight of your actions bearing down on you. Without a second thought you wiped away at the memories, making futile attempts to forget just how much you had enjoyed your winter break.

“I really don’t know Mom.” You tug at your bottom lip, staring down at the train ticket sitting on your desk. “Spring break is shorter, maybe it’s better if I stay out here.”

“Aw, but your brothers were so sweet and made plans for the three of you! It’s no good to overwork yourself anyway. So come home, even if it’s just for a few days.” Your mother’s pleas tinged with thinly veiled disappointment only makes your head throb.

And at the mere mention of them thinking of you, wanting to spend time with you, makes your heart pound harshly against your rib cage.

You shouldn’t be this elated to hear that your brothers’ had planned something for the three of you.

“Okay, okay. I should be there on Saturday around three.”

“Perfect! I’ll send those two to meet you at the station. Love you, bye!”

“Love you, bye.” The burn of shame and excitement is all too familiar as you hang up and let your phone clatter against your desk, resigning yourself to sort out your room and begin packing for the week.

The time spent packing is riddled with anxieties piercing through you, the constant thought of some poorly cobbled excuse coming to mind to throw at your mother to continue your useless hiding.

But you’d have to go home at some point.

So you finally and truly relent to the request of your mother, and to the inevitability of the situation. Sleep heavy in your eyes you manage to get yourself to the station in one piece, your nerves keeping you from attaining more than a few hours of slumber the night before.

By the time you board the train and settle in your seat, you attempt to set up boundaries in your mind. Trying to establish something that will keep you from reading too deeply into the way your brothers may act, trying to repair the metaphorical lines that the three of you have desecrated.

You only make it a few steps out of the station when you hear a few rowdy whoops and irritated clicks of tongues from the people around you.

“There she is!” Atsumu comes barreling forward, scooping you into his arms and spinning, an eruption of giggles filling your chest. Anxiety and nerves seem to melt away in your brother’s arms, the warmth of his body bringing an indescribable bliss to swirl through you. After that day, he’d grown to be far more affectionate, a welcome change from the normally despondent or even disgusted remarks and looks he’d throw at you.

“You’re hoggin’ her Tsumu.” Osamu pulls you from Atsumu’s hold, ruffling your hair and offering a fond smile.

“Long time no see.” Your eyes widen as you peek behind Osamu to see Kita standing there casually, a board tucked under his arm and a smile reminiscent of the one from when you two had been caught a few months earlier.

“What does it matter when she’s looked the fuckin’ same since she was in middle school?” You exhale sharply as you meet the eyes of the most grating of your brothers’ friends.

“I thought they shipped you out to the middle of nowhere, Suna.” You huff, back when your brothers ignored you and Kita offered simple smiles and bits of kindness. Suna had always let snarky comments fall left and right, uncaring of whether they hit or who was around. To say you disliked him would be a kind way of putting it. Thoroughly entertained by the exchange, Atsumu let’s out another hearty laugh and drags you towards the rest of the group.

“Shit, if only! Hey, let’s go get something to eat. You hungry?” His face is too close, you know it, far too close even for a caring older brother as he leans in to grin at you, arm a little too secure around your shoulders.

“Um, sure.” You turn your head away, hoping your expression is anything but telling.

“Sure, she says, boring as ever.” Suna taunts, earning him an eye roll from Osamu and a nudge from Kita.

“She’s not sixteen anymore.” Kita’s seemingly innocent statement prickles at your ears, the memory of you throwing those exact words at him flashing in your mind.

“Mhm.” Osamu agrees, the way that they speak as if you’re not there should annoy you, but really you can’t help but enjoy the attention, especially after being starved of it for all these years.

“Whatever you fuckin’ freaks say.” Suna scoffs, throwing his board down and flashing a middle finger at Osamu before riding ahead.

It’s an oddly quiet lunch, sitting out front of one of your favorite little cafes, all of your welcome party seeming to be on their best behavior. There’s a moment of surprise as Atsumu pulls you towards it, talking about how you used to love this place when you were younger.

Though the sentiment of good behavior fades quickly, leaving you to spend most of the lunch trying your best to brush off whatever snarky comments Suna makes, trying desperately to ignore Osamu and Atsumu’s wandering hands and Kita’s unrelenting gaze. It’s all so overwhelming you spew out some poor excuse of feeling tired, sweetly asking your brothers to take you back home.

The rest of the night is spent flecked with fleeting touches that you can’t seem to avoid, filled with too many moments where your heart races simply at the way their stares seem to linger and trying desperately to make eye contact and not stumble over conversations with your parents without shame completely eating away at you.

By the time you tuck yourself into bed, you’re exhausted, completely spent from struggling to keep up some broken facade all while trying and failing to avoid too much time under the undivided attention supplied by your brothers.

And just before sleep finally overtakes you to free you from the stress of the day, there’s a soft tap at your door.

“Mmm?” You hum out, unsurprised when you hear the door open then shut, not bothering to open your eyes to see who’s come to you in the late hours.

“Move over.” Osamu-nii’s voice has you furrowing your brows, but you obey the command, too exhausted to bother arguing as a warm body slips under your blankets. He curls an arm around your waist, drawing you flush against him, burying his face against your shoulder. “Tsumu snores too loud.”

It’s not the first time you’ve heard the complaint, but it’s the first time he’s sought out refuge in your room. Your mind spins just a little, already being pulled back under a sleepy spell, the warmth of your brother soothing.

He nuzzles his nose against your shoulder, whispering a good night, and you swear you hear an ‘I love you’ as everything around you fades away.

“The beach.”

It’s the only explanation you get as Atsumu drags you from Osamu’s arms and shoves you into his old Honda Civic the next morning, leaving you to watch as he and Osamu toss their boards, a few duffle bags and far too much alcohol into the trunk.

The two of them wrestle for the driver’s seat, Atsumu screaming about it being his car while Osamu grumbles about ‘shit driving’, Osamu falling victorious after a particularly hard shove to Atsumu’s face.

“Kita, Aran and Gin are gonna meet us there, but we gotta get Suna.” You stifle a groan as you sink back into your seat.

“Can you even skate at the beach?”

“Yeah duh, there’s a park right there by the sand, it’s fucking sick! We go there all the time.” Atsumu roars, looking back at you with a grin. You nod along as he continues into a whole story about their last adventure there.

It was the first time that they had decided to take you with them to one of their trips, before complaining to your mom when she would suggest it. That selfish pride surging at yet another testament to your brothers’ new found adoration of you.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll have fun.” Osamu looks at you quickly over his shoulder as he pulls over in front of the Suna home. The implication is there, you can hear it in the lilt of his voice, in the slyness of the smirk that follows the statement. That same heat pooling in your stomach and filling your cheeks as he kills the engine and pulls out his phone.

You stare pointedly at the door as minutes tick by, Suna finally emerging with a yawn, a bag slung around him as he balances his board on his shoulder with a hand. Your eyes shut as you lean back again, listening to the click of the trunk opening, followed by the clatter of Suna’s items and it being slammed shut.

The sound of knuckles against glass makes you blink, watching as Suna stares down at Atsumu, who cracks the window slightly.

“I’m not sitting in the back.” Suna hisses, not even bothering to spare you a glance. You wonder if you had called shotgun earlier, would your brothers continue their doting streak and relinquish it to you? Saving you from having to deal with whatever this exchange was.

“Tough shit asshole, it’s that or the roof.”

“The roof it is.” Suna replies without missing a beat, sliding narrowed eyes over you in barely contained annoyance and distaste.

“Get in the fucking car.” Osamu groans. There’s a childish pout on Suna’s lips as he throws the backseat door open, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you as he slides into the car. As if the irritated stares and the even more irritating conversation about seating wasn’t enough to show how little he enjoys the seating arrangement, he makes a point to stretch his legs out, forcing you to press against the door to avoid contact.

With a sly smirk, he scrunches his nose at you in another silent show of disgust before closing his eyes, a tight feeling in your chest and a sting in your eyes forces you to inhale sharply, turning your head almost painfully to stare out the window.

“Fuckin’ finally, let’s go Samu!” Atsumu bellows, kicking his feet and swinging a hand into Osamu’s shoulder, earning him a sharp smack to the forehead.

“Stay on your side, I’m not gonna be your pillow.” Suna eyes you, you don’t bother replying, brushing off the statement by sweetly asking Osamu to turn up whatever is playing on the radio.

The length of the drive is spent in relative silence, your brothers fighting occasionally with each other and sometimes with Suna, but mainly just idle chatter.

You’ve stopped at a gas station, Suna and Osamu busying themselves with filling the car up while you and Atsumu search for snacks to make the rest of the drive bearable.

“He hasn’t touched you right?” Atsumu whispers as you look through the bags of chips.

“Who? Suna?” Your lip curls at the very thought of his hands coming anywhere near you, eyebrows raising at your brother’s question. You’ve spent most of the trip curled up in your seat with your head resting on the window, and he could easily see that.

“Who else? Don’t play dumb with your nii-chan.” He’s growing closer and closer, looming over you as if to remind you who’s in charge, who holds all the power between the two of you. You shake your head quickly, not wanting to start anything in a gas station convenience store and more importantly to appease your brother.

“Good, don’t let him.” He hooks a finger in the waistband of your pants to draw you closer and presses a lingering kiss to your temple. His lips brush over your cheek as his voice goes impossibly low, “only me and Samu, got it?”

“Y-Yeah.” You nod your head sheepishly, hoping to whatever God is above that your expression isn’t something completely embarrassing.

“Yeah?” He’s lips still linger, his breath fanning across you only sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yes nii-chan.”

“Good girl. Now grab your shit, and let’s get outta here, the beach is calling!” He throws an arm around your shoulder and drags you towards the cashier, his jovial laugh unable to drown out the less than appropriate thoughts clawing at the back of your mind.

“You’re ugly when you sleep, mini Miya.” Suna smirks at you as the two of you settle in the backseat, Osamu and Atsumu arguing by the hood of the car.

“Choke on your jelly stick and croak.” You bite back, digging out your headphones and sliding them on, eyes fluttering close as you wait for your brothers to cease their arguing. Sleep overtaking as you feel the car start up again, praying that you don’t wake until you get to your destination.

There’s a hard jolt of the car that wakes you, followed by Atsumu shrieking in a way more for the dramatics than anything else. You’re still trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes when a hand almost swipes your face, quickly throwing a nasty glare to the idiot sitting next to you, irritation only building at the way he looks so unbothered.

“Out, out, out we have things to do.” Atsumu throws your door open, dragging you out before you can even straighten out your appearance.

To your surprise it’s a rather nice hotel just by the beach, and when you ask how they were able to not only get several rooms here but also pay for it, you receive a half-assed explanation involving a family friend of Gin and something about owing his father a few favors.

Osamu starts talking about a bonfire, while Atsumu is already screaming about meeting, as he says ‘hot chicks’, Kita sidles up next to you making quiet conversation about the drive. You feel Suna’s stare before you notice it, confusion swirling at the unreadable look in his eyes.

You let them drag you around the beach town, only half surprised to see how much of a spring break destination it is. It’s a little overwhelming as the drunken festivities begin at a prompt one in the afternoon on a crowded beach.

“Aran~, Samuuuu, DRINKING CONTEST NOW!” Atsumu roars, slamming beers down in front of the two he’s challenged, the pair looking unimpressed but still taking the bait and bringing the cans closer.

There’s a crowd starting to form around them, cheering them on as the three slam down beers, your own laugh escaping as Osamu misses on the fourth one, half of it going down the front of his shirt instead of in his mouth. Prompting Atsumu to chuck an empty can at his head and calling him a loser.

“The Miya siblings are all a special kind of stupid huh?” Suna jabs as Osamu rips off his shirt and begins chasing Atsumu down. “It’s amazing.”

“Suna I can’t understand you when you talk out of your ass like that.” Exhaustion replaces your lighthearted mood, looking around to only deflate further as you see two girls preening under Kita’s attention and your brothers joining a volleyball game with women clad in rather small swimsuits.

“Aw and just like that all the attention is off of you, what’s a boring girl like you to do?” His words tear deeper than you allow your expression to show, eye twitching as he looks at his nails casually. “Maybe you can go see if one of the drunk bastards roaming will confuse you for a ten.”

“You have a whole lotta shit to say huh, like you’re Mr. Popular.” You flinch at the pitchiness of your tone, knowing all too well that Suna caught it and is already brewing another snide comment. “Don’t you have some creeper pics to take somewhere, far?”

“You’d love that hm? Being all alone while you’re dumb little head spins around while you try not to look obvious eye-fucking Kita.” He pats your head and stands up, brushing sand off of himself right into your face, you don’t even have a chance to react before he’s spinning on his heel and trudging towards your brothers.

It’s fucking embarrasing how he gets the last word practically every time in your little exchanges, and to your relief Aran and Gin are already passed out saving you from having witnesses to that grating moment.

Yet to your chagrin, Kita is nowhere to be seen, and with his track record you don’t doubt he’s slunk off somewhere with one, or maybe both, of the girls from earlier.

A spike of nerves has you wanting to curl into yourself, run back to the hotel room or something. That same annoyed feeling builds when you see people surround Atsumu as he rips off his shirt and lets out some battlecry before spiking a volleyball dangerously close to Osamu’s face.

Regret starts to eat at you, wondering if you should’ve come on this trip, wondering if you should’ve even come home in the first place.

The hours tick by slowly as the sun makes its descent into the clear blue waters, bits of anxiety fading away especially when Kita finally returns and despite the hickey forming on his throat his presence is far more welcome than Suna’s.

Osamu’s aggressively requested bonfire comes to fruition the second the beach is cleared of enough people and the sun has finally dipped out of view, the cold ocean air washing over the beach and sending a shiver through you.

“C’mere or you’ll freeze.” Osamu commands, patting the space next to him on a log that he and Suna had dragged from who knows where. You obey quietly, settling next to him as Atsumu and Aran continue to toss more logs onto the large pile. He throws an arm around your shoulder, drawing you close to his side, once again soothed by how warm he is.

“Samu you fucker, you’re the one who wanted this stupid bonfire and ya aren’t doin’ shit.”

“One of us lost three volleyball games in a row and it wasn’t me.”

“Ya cheated! Ya had fuckin’ Rin right there helpin’ ya while I was stuck with those-”

“Tsumu.” Even in the low lighting Kita’s eyes were commanding, silencing your brother with the simple call of his name. It looks like you aren’t the only one of your siblings that fell so easily under Kita’s thumb.

“Tch, whatever.” With the help of Aran and Gin, they manage to erect a few large sticks to put together a decent looking bonfire. And with a flourish of crumbled paper and matches it starts to roar to life.

The heat is almost instant, no longer needing to be cuddled up to Osamu for warmth you start to scoot away, startled when another body plops down beside you.

“Ya mind if I sit here?” There isn’t a point with him already sitting down, a pinch in your forehead at just having to hear him speak.

“Actually I do.” You grind out, hoping that it’ll actually spur him to leave you alone.

“Aw, tough shit.” He smirks at you before looking over at Osamu. “Pass me that.”

There’s a lit joint in your brother’s fingers that you hadn’t noticed before, the musky smell filling your nostrils as he takes a long drag before passing it over your head to Suna.

You’re mesmerized by the way he brings it to his lips, inhaling so easily and exhaling even more so. And as much as you hate to admit it, in the glow of the fire he looks pretty, beautiful even.

How disgusting.

“You smoke brat?” Suna asks as he passes it back to your brother. Before you can even think of an answer a resounding no is spoken by your brothers.

“Once.” You answer quietly, trying not to shrink under the way your brothers’ heads snap towards you.

“With who?” Atsumu rises from where he’d been crouching by the fire, quirking a brow as golden eyes harden in the warm light.

“H- a friend.” Hinata, but they didn’t need to know that your friend was a boy, one who skates just like them.

“A boy friend?” Suna goads, he leans into your space, the glossiness of his eyes still hypnotizing as you tightly shake your head. You mumble something about a girl down the hall and pray that they drop the conversation, thankful when Aran starts offering drinks.

Time flies as inhibitions run loose, more drinking challenges and foul conversations about hookups overtake the quiet beach.

You sit there, lips pursed while tightly gripping a half drunken wine cooler, Osamu asleep on the sand by your feet while Atsumu drunkenly begs Kita to recount the time he hooked up with half the girls soccer team at the local university.

“Well?” Suna asks, voice raspier and lower, only making your own throat itch. You don’t realize he’s speaking to you until he digs his elbow into your side, almost making you drop your drink on your brother’s head.

“What now?” He’s holding a wax pen in lithe fingers, wiggling it slightly in your direction. Your gaze wanders, the fire is still burning quite nicely, Osamu is passed out, Aran and Atsumu are debating something with slurred words and barely focused eyes while Gin and Kita make quiet conversation. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“What’s your angle?” You bite, unsure of why he of all people would share anything with you.

“I think it’d be funny to see how dumb you look high.”

“Then pass.”

“Coward.”

“Cunt.”

“Dirty mouth huh? Bet all boys at your school love that, especially the one you get high with.”

“It was one time and we didn’t even do anything.”

“Oh? So it was a boy friend.” His voice is painfully loud, earning a quick glance from Kita but thankfully not Atsumu.

“Just a friend, stop specifying that he’s a guy.” Like you’d ever date Hinata, he barely remembers your name half the time. You’re tempted to get up and sit by your brother or even by Kita and Gin, anything to avoid even a second more of conversation with Suna.

“Sure, sure, you know what? You should learn to take a hint, you’re such a damn buzzkill it wouldn’t hurt for you to loosen up a bit. Probably blue balled the poor guy, clueless idiot.” You snatch the pen from his hold before he can make another comment, sending a scathing look before bringing the tip of the cartridge to your lips.

“Just inhale there isn’t a button.” He laughs as you take a long hit, already wheezing before you properly exhale. He snickers as you cough, offering half-hearted comfort as he slaps his hand against your back.

As if that’d help.

“Like I said, the Miya’s are a special kind of stupid.” Suna rolls his head back, a low chuckle escaping him as you continue to wheeze and cough. You’re tempted to kick him off the log while he’s not looking, distracted when you hear someone shuffle towards you.

“Drink.” Kita is crouching in front of you, holding out a water bottle. You nod as you take it from him, slowly drinking as he watches intently. You can feel Suna’s gaze boring into you once more as you hand the water bottle back to Kita. “Are ya doing okay?”

“Yeah m’okay.” He stays there for a moment, before nodding his head and rising with a stretch.

“I think it’s time to head back. Gin you get Aran, I’ll help Tsumu, Suna you’ve got Samu?”

“I guess.”

With the help of Kita and Suna —and only a fraction of Atsumu’s usual theatrics— you manage to wrangle your brothers into their bed, cringing at the trail of sand leading into your room.

“Thanks Kita.” You chew at your lip as he curls an arm around your waist in a half hug before making his way out, continuing to ignore Suna and his unreadable gaze. The taller of the two stands in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips before he slams the door close behind him, only making you curse his name under your breath as Atsumu stirs.

He beckons you forward with an exaggerated wave of his hand, distracting you from whatever game Suna seemed to be playing.

“Night night baby.” Atsumu slurs, dragging you down by your throat to smash a sloppy kiss against your lips. You let out a soft laugh as he releases you and flops back onto the bed besides the still unconscious Osamu. You manage to wrestle the blanket out from underneath them and throw it over the two.

As you stare at the sleeping figures, that same familiar guilt starts to wring at your chest, threatening to consume every corner of your mind and heart. With a sigh you look back at your own bed, deciding that a bit of a walk to clear your head was much needed.

Again you find regret biting at you, deciding that going straight to bed would’ve been the better option the moment you step out into the lobby to see Suna engaged in a wicked lip-lock with some girl, pressing her against the broken vending machine.

There’s a spike of disgust and a lurch in your stomach that has you rolling your eyes as you walk past and out the front doors, hoping that he didn’t notice your presence. You decide there’s no use in letting his existence ruin the beautiful night, deciding to head back to the beach for a quiet stroll.

For a few minutes you get to enjoy the soft sound of crickets and the ocean in the distance, revelling in the warm salt laden breeze. Distracted by how peaceful the night is compared to a few hours before, you barely miss your name being called in the distance.

The immediate recognition of the voice has you trudging forward, refusing to acknowledge your name clearly being called for a second time.

“Hey.” You look back to see Suna trudging forward, the few hickies scattered across his throat somehow visible in the low lighting.

“Oh it’s just you.” You curl your lip at him, your left temple already throbbing at his mere presence. You make the mistake of turning to face him, his hair is messier than usual, the sight of not just hickies but a clear bite mark.

Heat pools in your stomach as he tilts his head, his eyes roaming over you so shamelessly. It’s foul how attractive he looks in this moment, it only makes you want to drive a fist into his nose that much more.

“So what’s it like being the pass around party toy?” There isn’t even a waver in his voice as he poses the question, stuffing his hands in his pockets as per usual, acting as if he asked you how your day was.

“What the hell does that mean?” You take a step back, twisting so that you could easily walk away from him, hands clenched tightly at your side as you watch his eyes make note of your stance.

“Tch, exactly what it sounds like, who knew the boring little extra Miya would turn out like this?” He doesn’t move.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, leave me alone.” You shake your head, for a moment you consider heading back to the hotel, but that would mean having to walk past Suna, that would equate to retreating, losing. The only option is for you to twirl on your heel, and continue on your walk towards the beach.

“I mean sure, we all knew Kita would eventually get his hands on you, that’s a given. But I didn’t think the wonder idiots would actually do it, I guess all those jokes had a lot more truth to ‘em than I thought.” You pause, refusing to turn around and meet his gaze as the words begin to sink in.

“I- What? Kita and I didn’t...my brothers have nothing to do with this.” You trip over the statement, cringing at the way he snorts at your flimsy words. You hear him take a step forward, spurring you to do the same.

“Oh c’mon you know even better than me, they’ve always been shit at keeping any kind of secrets, and Kita only speaks full sentences to girls he’s fucked. Keeps ‘em coming back or whatever.”

“Stop, you’re not funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, I’m trying to see what’s so special about you. There’s gotta be something for not just one but both those assholes to treat you all cute. Did Kita come back for more? He doesn’t do that.” The onslaught of information is dizzying, you know your brothers’ didn’t say anything, you know it. Which only meant that Suna figured it out, were you that obvious?

“How did you...” You feel your lip split beneath your teeth, the flood of iron in your mouth sobering.

“You’re even uglier when you play dumb, like I said all of a sudden they’re all nice, doting on you or whatever. And Kita keeps staring and gettin’ real close, so what is it? You give good head or something?”

You’re yanked out of confusion as panic and rage stings through your beings, that ever present headache whenever Suna is around throbs harshly.

“You jus- shut up, just God fucking leave me alone okay?” An exasperated sigh slips out. “Just shut up and go.”

“Shut up? That’s the best you got? Y’Know just cause I’ve figured it out doesn’t mean Gin or Aran have, I don’t think Kita’s even realized you let your brothers run a-”

“Suna, I said, shut up.” You surge forward, gripping at the collar of his t-shirt, twisting the worn fabric in your fingers. He has the advantage, he’s taller, faster, stronger and a hell of a lot meaner. He wins in every way possible and the realization only makes your eyes sting.

“Make me,” He taunts as he grabs at your wrists, pulling you against him, “lemme see why everyone’s so obsessed with you. And I won’t tell a soul.”

You weigh your options, the last thing you want is to do anything with Suna. The thought of your brothers or Kita finding out nauseates you, a twisted sense of loyalty to the three men paired with your years long disdain for Suna only screaming for you to say no.

But then there’s the risk of him running his stupid mouth. Your reputation was on the line, your life as you knew it was on the line.

“You won’t...say anything?” You tighten your hands into fists, nails biting into your palm, trying not to crumble under his wicked gaze. There’s a sense of regret filling you the second you open your mouth, wishing that you hadn’t uttered the question.

“Not a soul.” He releases your wrists, sticking out his pinky, you know it’s a faux offering, that Suna Rintarou never makes promises and like hell he’d ever keep them. You seal your fate by locking your own pinky with his, unable to stifle a gasp as he moves to tangle his fingers with yours.

He doesn’t bother with any more words as he drags you along towards the beach. Your head pounds with an influx of all the possible consequences. What were you going to do if Kita found out? Would he even be bothered?

More importantly, what were you going to do if your brothers did? Would they still want you? Still treat you as sweetly as they have been since winter break?

You consider shaking off Suna’s hold, running off in the opposite direction and back to your room to hide under the covers and pray to whoever that he wouldn’t spill your tumultuous secret.

But the thought of losing to him resurfaces, steeling your nerves as you try to match his strides. The question of where he’s taking you comes to mind, but you know you’ll only receive some snarky response.

A lone lifeguard tower comes into view, set in soft sand halfway between the quiet waves and the sidewalk along the beach.

“You move too slow.” He yanks at your hand releasing it as you stumble forward, with a slight shove to your shoulder you keep walking, ambling towards the ramp leading up to the small wooden structure.

The old wood creaks loudly with each step, a grating accompaniment to the feeling of another nail being pounded into the coffin. You can feel Suna just behind you, the heat radiating off of him ghosting over you, almost comforting as the sea breeze turns colder and colder.

His hand grips at the back of your shirt, tugging you back and out of the way as he yanks at the door. It feels like a blessing, a perfect excuse from the situation before Suna kicks his foot into the door, just an inch from the doorknob and effectively slamming it open.

“Fucking hell there’s glass on the door!” You shove at him, despite being far into the beach, there’s still the risk of someone hearing you, the shattered glass would only be further evidence of your decision.

“And it didn’t break, get the fuck in.” He brushes off your anger, once again pushing you around and into the dark room, snickering when you stumble over a loose plank.

There’s a snide comment on the tip of your tongue, discarded the moment Suna’s fingers wrap around your throat, his lips slamming into yours. His tongue pushes past your tightened lips, each motion domineering and overwhelming as his grip tightens.

It has to be the sick combination of his consuming kiss and the way his elegant fingers tighten with each stroke of his tongue that leaves you impossibly breathless and barely conscious. You claw at his chest, begging for a moment of reprieve as your vision begins to go spotty.

The way he smirks against your lips before pulling away only grates on your nerves, nails digging harshly into his shoulders in hopes of exacting some revenge.

“Down.” He’s pulling you towards the floor with little regard, forcing the two of you to tumble down painfully onto the thin, ratty rug that barely covers the aged, sandy floor.

“Fucker.” You dive towards him, teeth tearing into his lip as he drags down your shorts, fingers kneading into the swell of your ass as he allows you to continue the harsh drag of your teeth and tongue.

Again his hand is around your throat, shoving you off of him and to the side, you flinch as something digs into your back through the rug unable to shift away as Suna pins you down, dragging his bloody lip against your cheek.

He’s pulling away before you can try biting at him again, leaving you to squint in the dark of the tower barely able to make out him tearing off his shirt and pushing down at the waistband of his sweats.

“Fuck it’s dark, gimme your phone.” He’s patting over your pockets, ducking his hand in to grab it and turn on the flashlight.

“Why mine?”

“‘Cus fuck your battery life, your shirt.” He demands, pushing the hem up past your tits and to your throat, it only makes that sharp corner jab harsher into your back as you wrestle your shirt off of you, struggling as he leans more of his weight onto you.

“Suna.” You groan as he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh of your breast, scraping his teeth over your nipple, tongue following teasingly. “Suna.”

“You just don’t fucking shut up huh? What?” He sighs, pulling back to throw off his own shirt. “I don’t have condoms.”

“Of course you don’t, but that’s not it, just…hurry up?”

“Don’t want your precious brothers to wake up and you’re not there?”

You reply with a click of your tongue, hoping it conveys enough of your irritation as your eyes wander towards how dangerously low his sweats hang, the outline of his cock mouth watering and inviting, only sending a tight heat to curl in your belly, and bile to rise in your throat.

All the times he almost made you cry —dashed with all the times he succeeded— prod at you, only begging the question of if you truly wanted to go through with this, as if you really had a choice. It’s not like Suna would let you run away now.

“Well since you’re in such a hurry, go for it.” He drags you up from where you lie, tugging at you until you’re sitting up as he takes your place lying on the carpet, tucking his hands behind his head. His sharp eyes are a little too clear in the low lighting for your taste, an entitled look bearing down on you.

If it weren’t for the spite coursing through your veins you might’ve walked out, having his cockiness and demands be the last straw for the night. So you swallow your self loathing and let your fingers skim down past his navel and dip into his sweats.

There’s a sharp inhale as your fingers curl around his cock, already hard from barely any touching, stoking your ego far more than it should. Clumsily you tug at the waistband of his sweats, pulling it down just enough to free his deceptively pretty cock from it’s confines.

“Hurry up, she said, and is now taking her sweet fuckin’ time.” He snipes, letting his eyes flutter shut before flashing you a bored look. He’s winning. And like hell you’d let him. Immediately you release your hold, moving to pull your shorts off, ignoring him as he cracks one eye open, shutting it as you move to straddle him.

You’ll be damned if your inexperience shines through, moving to tease your fingers against your clit, inching them towards your twitching hole, tracing along it gently as slick begins to gather along the pads of your fingers.

You sink down just enough, gasping as your pussy presses against the base of his cock, delighting in the way that the contact makes Suna’s eyes snap open to look at you. Quickly you plant a hand on his chest, the other coming down to tease the head of his cock, thumb brushing over a bead of precum.

Slowly you rock your hips, slick slathering onto his cock as you try to keep a steady pace, opting to avoid direct eye contact as you focus on each slide of your cunt against his throbbing cock, a sharp tingle pinching at your clit as it brushes over his tip.

Gathering enough confidence, you meet his gaze just as you lift your hips high enough to hover over his cock, bringing the tip to press at your interest, sparking a click of Suna’s tongue.

“Wow, no prep? That used to taking cock?”

“Your pencil dick isn’t gonna do much damage.” You sneer, more irritated at the way your words seem to have no effect, rolling your eyes as you lower yourself, trying to relax.

“Need help?” He brings a hand from behind his head to squeeze your thigh before letting it rest there, thumb absentmindedly stroking sensitive flesh.

“No.” You hiss through clenched teeth, tensing when his cockhead pushes past your fluttering entrance, relaxing a bit as you sink further and further down. A chilling thought runs through your mind as you seat yourself fully on his cock, a disgusting yet satisfying feeling of how perfect he feels inside of you.

The curve, each vein, the way the head of his cock is pressed against something so deep and sensitive, your mind is reeling because it shouldn’t feel this good, he shouldn’t feel this good.

Too caught up in your thoughts you don’t realize Suna is rising from his relaxed position until his hands are on your hips and moving to help you bounce at a leisurely pace, it’s just enough to make your mind go numb. And you hate it.

It’s not supposed to be like this, he’s not suppose to fuck into that special spot over and over again rendering you barely capable of stringing together a sentence, you feel yourself melt into his hold, let him take whatever he pleases because it feels too damn good.

He’s pushing you back onto the ground, balancing you on your side as he straddles one of your legs, keeping the other up with a loose grip on your thigh as he pushes back into you without any warning. And damn it all, you can’t help but moan, can’t help but whine with each delicious drag of his cock.

“Oh so that’s what it is, you look good while getting fucked.” His fingers grip at your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he bucks his hips. You furrow your brows, trying to look unimpressed, but the roll of his hips is too overwhelming, still drunk on the way he seems to move in all the right ways.

“Guess you’re just meant to be a whore, fuck you look too good like this I think this is something I wanna remember.” He releases your thigh, pulling out to let you fall flat on your back, unconsciously arching to try and chase his touch.

“Suna.” Your voice is a broken whisper, trying to harden your gaze at him, failing as he pinches at your nipple. He quickly raises his hands up in mock surrender, his phone screen facing you to reveal his lockscreen of bare breasts pressed against glass.

“Just one, no one’ll see it. You can even cover your face,” He grabs at your arm to throw it over your face, “there like that.” The flash of the camera still makes you jump, relaxing a little when you hear him toss his phone to the side.

“Stick your tongue out.” Yet he doesn’t give you the chance, fingers already prying your lips apart and pinching at your tongue, dragging the appendage out into stale, salty air. “Suck dumbass.”

You want to whine about how the request is near impossible, drool running down the sides of your mouth and his fingers. You wiggle in his hold, as if it’s enough to convey the message but it only spurs Suna shoving his fingers deeper forcing you to gag and choke.

“Messy fuckin’ thing huh? This how you got all of ‘em wrapped ‘round your dumb little finger?” You try to shake your head, deny whatever implications he’s making, tears stinging at your eyes as he rolls his hips, the head of his cock dragging so deliciously.

“Thut uhhp.” You gargle out, squeezing your eyes shut as he leans in to laugh mockingly into your ear.

“So damn stupid, no surprise your only redeeming quality is this pussy.” Every thrust is painfully accurate, the horrific thought of being made for his cock crossing your mind once more as he keeps slamming into that sensitive bundle buried so deeply. “You really are made for this ya know, being fucked by me.” The way his words echo the very thought bouncing around in your head should be concerning, maybe you really are that easy to read.

Somewhere your mind supplies no, not you, it shouldn’t be you. The words sit unspoken, fucked away as he leans further into you, an onslaught of disparaging comments being whispered into your ear and flittering out the other, unable to comprehend a single thing as he keeps pounding away, too distracted by the sound of skin slapping against skin.

His fingers drag against your tongue down your chin, moving to spread your drool across your throat, slinking down until his fingers are splayed across your chest.

“Can I finish on your tits?” He mumbles against your ear not even a second after viciously accusing you of spreading your legs for anyone who even bothers to look your way.

“T-There’s nothing to hnn clean up if you do.” You’re shoving at his chest, he’s too close, fearing the stench of his sweat and faint cologne could sway your orgasm. Yet it makes no difference, he keeps close, nose brushing against yours as his eyes bore into you.

“So I should cum inside you.” He whispers, his hips slowing with each thrust, desperation and a panic of him stopping gripping at your throat.

“Suna-”

“Ask me nicely or I’ll cum on your tits.”

“Motherfucker.”

“Sisterfucker to be exact.” He finally goes still, cock buried deep in your waiting cunt, walls twitching and clenching, desperate to be desecrated with this bastard’s seed.

“Just cum inside me.” You wail, wiggling your hips to punctuate your message, yelping when he slaps harshly at your tit, once, twice.

“Nicely.” He commands, grinding his hips into yours as a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Please, please cum inside me.” He stares down at you, considering your request as he brings a hand up to grip at your chin, forcing you to look at him properly. He starts to pull out, just enough to leave his tip still nestled in you, slamming forward without any regard for how the force knocks your head back into the planks or how he’s ramming right into your cervix, ripping something mixed between a howl and a moan deep from your throat.

He’s pulling you into his arms, griping you tightly against him, as if you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth as every single one of his thrusts drags you back into that stupid state of mind that has his name chanting over and over in your mind.

The tip of his cock is smashed against your bruising cervix as you feel the heat of his thick cum paint your insides, solidifying that for tonight, you’re completely his.

To your surprise, he’s kind of enough to gently fuck you through your own orgasm, although he makes a point to keep his thrust shallow and lazy, slowly drive you over the edge, unabashedly enjoying how desperate your pleas for release sound.

Even more surprising, he leans in as you clench around him, crying out as his lips skim along your jaw, whispering something dirty and depraved that register but doesn’t, keeping you close as your chest heaves.

After a few moments of reprieve he’s tapping at your cheek, your eyes opening despite the lack of memory of shutting them. He’s pulling out with, of course, another disparaging comment about your talents in being fucked. In a painfully nonchalant manner, he begins sliding your clothes on, pushing and pulling at your limbs as if you're some doll.

Your legs are shaking as he drags you up to stand, keeping an arm tight around your waist to prevent you from face planting. The only reply to your questioning eyes being a mumble of not wanting to deal with your brothers if you aren’t in bed the next morning.

He drags you along, for the first time in your life the two of you exist in silence as you make your way to the hotel, pleasantly surprised that he goes out of his way to take you to your room instead of letting you hobble your way the moment the two of you had reached the lobby.

“Hope me and my cock haunt your dreams.” He flicks your forehead before opening your door and shoving you in, thankfully making a point to shut it quietly, leaving you to listen to his quiet footsteps retreat down the hallway.

You limp towards the bathroom, deciding that a shower is much needed, though something in your heart weighs heavily at the thought of washing away the traces of your most grating yet satisfying hookup.

Hope me and my cock haunt your dreams.

His stupid statement laced with practically cinematic flashbacks of earlier play over and over as you shower, as you steal one of your brothers shirts to sleep and even when you crawl into your own bed, not even the lullaby of Atsumu’s quiet snores and Osamu mumbling in his sleep are enough to completely distract you.

And as sleep begins to pull you under, you curse Suna with the same thought, hoping that you haunt him too.

“Damn new lockscreen?” Atsumu grins, throwing an arm around Suna’s shoulder, a low whistle dancing from his lips.

“Oh lemme see, is it that girl from yesterday?” Osamu wanders over, you close behind feigning disinterest as you watch Suna turn his phone for your brother to see.

You’re unable to stifle a gasp as the sight of your tits, specifically the picture from last night, gleams on his phone screen. The smug look in his eyes makes your own widen, forcing a tremble in your bottom lip, hand unconsciously flying up to grip at Osamu’s sleeve.

Kita immediately separates the two of you, pushing you apart to stare at Suna’s lockscreen, bile rising in your throat unsure if whether or not he could recognize you. Suna had only cropped it enough for your chin and half of your arm covering your face to remain visible.

“Wow Suna.” Kita’s voice is knowing, his eyes sliding over to meet yours only causing your gaze to shoot downwards. “Must’ve had a good time to make you change your lock screen.”

“A great time honestly, might fuck around with her again.”

“Pfft, if she lets you.” Aran jabs, your gaze finally wandering upwards to see a dark look cross your brothers’ eyes as they continue to examine Suna’s lock screen. Before they can make another comment he’s tucking away his phone and shoving at Osamu with his shoulder.

“Oh, she will if she knows what’s good for her.”

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