"light Yagami Is A Misogynist" I Say Into The Mic.

"light yagami is a misogynist" I say into the mic.

the crowd boos. I begin to walk off in shame, when a voice speaks and commands silence from the room.

"she's right... surprising, for a woman", they say. i look for the owner of the voice. there in the 5th row stands light yagami.

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oikawa kinnie ftw ok but like my mom told me i was really good at school and i almost cried i’m so burnt out rn i wanna just 🧍🏽‍♀️🤛🏽

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whorefornoodles

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whorefornoodles

3 years ago

[1:46 AM]

characters: suna rintarou x gn! reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k

warnings: suna carries you, food, one curse word

a/n: this took a concerning amount of time to write, requested by @svnaskink :]

there’s no time to sleep; not when suna’s cravings have been a pain in his ass the entire day.

what exactly has he been craving for though? don’t ask him because he doesn’t know either. all he knows is that he wants to eat something and he wants it now. perhaps a trip to the store could lead him to the answer.

he props his body up with his elbows, half of his back on the bed, and glances over to his side to see you sleeping. you look very peaceful. time to ruin it.

he generously gives your arm quick, firm pokes, but receives no reaction. “babe, wake up. hey. hello?” he pauses. “if you love me you’ll wake up.”

his heart shatters when you don’t.

now fully sitting up, he cautiously grabs his pillow from behind him and he really hopes you’ll forgive him for this but he also thinks you deserve it for cuddling your pillow instead of him. he hasn’t taken his eyes off your figure for a second, looking for a sign that you’re actually conscious and he isn’t welcoming death with open arms.

yolo, he thinks, then he winds his arm up to gather momentum and slaps it down on your torso.

you wake with a startle, eyes darting around the room even though it’s too dark to see anything and you worry when you don’t feel a warm body in your arms. “rin, are you okay?” your voice is scratchy, laced with sleep, and it’s just how he likes it.

he’s touched that he’s the first thing on your mind; consider his heart repaired.

“did you just fucking hit me with a pillow?”

suna pretends he didn’t hear you. “no, i'm not okay. far from it.” his voice, too, is scratchy and it would have been really nice to hear if you weren’t woken up so rudely.

you’re half-dead right now, so your ability to differ between his serious voice and his joking voice is basically nonexistent. you decide to blame the surreal atmosphere of the night and whatever is going on with suna for his poor decision-making skills and roll on top of him, hugging him tight because maybe he’s just sad that he woke up without seeing your pretty face in front of him. he loosely wraps his arms around your waist and you find yourself on the brink of falling asleep again to the steady beat of his heart.

“i want to eat something,” suna admits, dipping his fingers underneath the bottom of your shirt then softly rubbing your lower back.

you sigh, satisfied. you think suna should quit volleyball and pursue a career as a masseuse. “go ahead, we have a kitchen two seconds away.”

“but there’s nothing to eat here,” he almost whines. “let’s go to the store.”

“that didn’t sound like a question.”

“‘cause it’s not.” suna opens his eyes wide and raises his eyebrows to emphasize the meaning of his words.

“it’s—” you try to reach for your phone on the bedside table, grabbing at air until you feel something solid. even on the dimmest brightness setting, you’re still blinded by the screen and you have to squint to make the numbers out clearly. “— two in the morning, rin. can’t this wait until the sun rises?”

suna rintarou (25) literary genius, replies with an eloquent “no. let’s go, time to wake up,” and rapidly taps your back.

you lift your head up to his ear to mumble “over my dead body,” then bury your face into the crook of his neck (it always fits perfectly and you and suna both think you were made for each other), and close your eyes.

—

it’s your fault honestly. you’ve known suna for nearly half of your life so you should know that if he really wants something, he’s getting it. that’s how you got stuck with him for the past few years.

you don’t even want to know how you slept through suna carrying you out of bed, into the car, out of the car, and into the cart of the convenience store. hopefully no one saw any of that happening, but the worker eyeing the two of you warily makes your face heat up in embarrassment.

no longer are you in the comfort of your warm home, in your warm bed, and in suna’s warm arms. instead, you’re met with the opposite as you watch suna open a door to the freezer and pick up something that looks strangely similar to the ice cream tub you have at home.

suna feels a pair of eyes gazing at him so he turns to look at you, on the verge of becoming single, and gives you his signature charming half-smile.

“good morning,” he waves to you. “you look beautiful and i love you.”

“good morning,” you say with a scowl on your face. “you look ugly and unlovable.” you cross your arms and turn away from him, finally realizing that in this very uncomfortable cart, you’re covered by the emergency blanket suna keeps in his car for late-night rendezvous.

suna chuckles as he places the ice cream in your lap, which sucks out all the little warmth in your body and you’re pretty sure he did this on purpose to give you frostbite. he starts to push the cart toward the checkout counter where the same employee you saw earlier is currently at and you instantly hide your face. you make a mental note to never come to this store ever again.

he’s quick though, using a tactic he’s perfected over the years: making the cashier feel awkward to make them rush through the scanning and payment process. if you weren’t in the store’s shopping cart sometime at two in the morning, you might have subtly intervened; for now, you make a valid point in your head that you can’t be a good person all the time.

sometime during your internal talk, suna had wheeled you out of the store and now, as he helps you get out of the hard, metal cage, you stumble a bit.

“don’t go falling for me, sweetheart,” he says as he steadies you, and you want to wipe that stupid smirk off his stupid(ly gorgeous) face. he reaches for the blanket hanging off the side of the cart and wraps it around your shoulders, and smoothly tugs you forward to land a peck on your forehead. “wouldn’t want that happening, now would we?”

he goes to put the cart away while you fawn over your boyfriend wait in the car with the ice cream in your hands, and you remember that you have a very important question for him.

when he comes back, you allow him to put on his seatbelt first and as he puts the car in reverse, you ask him, “did you forget that we have ice cream at home?”

he purses his lips for a second, then mutters, “i ate it when you fell asleep again.” he gently pinches your cheek when you laugh and you can spot the faintest pop of red appearing on the tips of his ears.

and as he exits the parking lot of the store, well-past two in the morning, you take his hand in yours and kiss the back of it and say, “i love you too.”