Haikyuu imagines

Make me- Suna

You try to leave the classroom the second the bell rings.

You don't make it five steps.

A hand wraps around your wrist - not rough, just decisive - and suddenly you're spun back inside. The door slams shut behind him.

Suna.

He clicks the lock with his thumb.

Your stomach drops.

"Suna- what the hell-"

He steps in, crowding your space until your back hits the teacher's desk.

"No." His voice is low, controlled, way too calm for someone who just trapped you. "You're not running from me again."

You glare, heart pounding. "Move."

"Not until you tell me what your problem is."

You scoff and look away, but he leans down, face level with yours.

"Hey." His fingers brush your chin, turning your face back to him. "You've been picking fights with me every damn day. In class. In the hallway. Everywhere."

His eyes flick down to your lips.

"You don't start arguments unless you want something from me."

Your breath catches.

"Let go," you whisper.

He smirks softly. "That's not an answer."

You try to sidestep him. He plants a hand beside your hip on the desk, blocking you. His body is right in front of yours, heat rolling off him.

"This-" he murmurs, leaning closer, "-is you avoiding something."

"I'm not avoiding anything," you snap, but your voice betrays you, too shaky.

Suna's eyes darken.

"Liar."

Your pulse jumps when his fingers slide around your waist, pulling you just close enough that your legs brush his.

"Suna-"

"Why are you fighting with me?" he asks again, voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath gets caught in your throat.

"Move."

He raises an eyebrow, eyes flicking down to your mouth before meeting your glare again.

"Say please."

Your heartbeat is loud enough to feel in your throat.

"Get out of my way," you bite out.

Suna's eyes darken - interested, delighted, challenging.

He leans down, face inches from yours.

"Make me."

Your breath stutters.

He's too close. Too calm. Too Suna.

You swallow hard.

You can feel the heat of him - everywhere.

"Suna," you warn, breath shaky.

He tilts his head, lips brushing your cheek without actually touching.

"Yeah?"

"This is- this is stupid."

He hums, amused. "You never walk away from stupid when it comes to me."

You hate that he's right.

You hate even more that he leans in again, his nose brushing yours, voice barely above a whisper: