#suna x reader
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leahrintarou · 1 day ago
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Hey. Nice to see you again. Hope you’ve had a good break. I have a request for Haikyuu texts: Calling them husband to see their reaction.
★彡 haikyuu guys reaction to being called "husband"
CHARACTERS: toru oikawa, iwaizumi hajime, akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, kozume kenma, kuroo tetsuro, suna rintarou, satori tendou, and bokuto kotaro WARNINGS: fem reader, she/her, swearing, sfw, fluff AN: HII thank u sm for requesting! i hope you enjoy :)
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likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3
got a request in mind? send it in! :)
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f4xrocket · 3 days ago
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ALL A GAME ๋࣭ ⭑r. suna
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to him it was just a stupid bet, to her it was everything.
suna x f!reader
status: on going
warnings: suggestive content, language, kys jokes, alcohol, drugs, smoking, angst, can be ooc, smau, female reader, time skip, college au, very slow updates (warnings will vary as story continues)
tag list: none as of right now
yn style guide | mood board
INTRODUCTIONS: future nomads | (un)safe place | payed shit talkers
CHAPTER 1: coming soon…
CHAPTER 2: coming soon…
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© created by f4xrocket please do not repost, remake or change, thank you
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divider credits go to @enchanthings-a
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mechsangel · 1 day ago
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random thoughts i have about comp sci suna and art major reader
college au ,,, this is my roman empire btw. i cant stop thinking abt this. tell me if you want more bc i have so many more random ideas abt this 😭
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— the meeting
it starts with a very unfortunate event. you, running late to your figure drawing class, barrel down the hallway—only to crash into suna rintarō, sending his laptop flying.
it lands with a thud, his headphones tangle around his wrist, and you're horrified to see a small crack on his screen.
“you're paying for that,” he deadpans.
you panic. “i–uh–what if i compensate you with art?”
he raises an eyebrow. “you think a drawing of me is worth a macbook repair?”
“um. maybe?”
that's how it begins—suna, reluctantly accepting a portrait in exchange for a slightly cracked screen, and you, unknowingly drawing your way into his life.
— late night dates
suna doesn't get art. he doesn't understand why you have to spend hours mixing paint for the ‘perfect shade of blue’. you don't get coding. you don't understand why he stares at black screens with neon text for hours, only to say, “it's broken. i hate everything.”
but you both try.
he sits in your studio, pretending to be interested as you explain color theory. you bring him coffee during his all-nighters and listen as he rants about debugging.
one night, as you sketch in his dorm while he codes, he glances at your notebook.
“are you drawing me again?”
you grin. “you're my muse, duh.”
he groans, but you catch the small smile he tries to hide.
— he leaves cryptic code comments about you <3
suna has a habit of writing stupid comments in his code when he's tired, but when you check his screen, you notice things like:
// y/n is annoying but also cute
// reminder to buy them more art supplies
// if (y/n == mad) { apologize(); buy_snacks(); }
when you point it out, he immediately minimizes the window and acts like it never happened.
— the gallery opening
you invite him to your first big showcase. suna, despite acting nonchalant, actually shows up early. he's dressed nicer than usual, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waits for you to notice him.
when you finally do, he tugs at your sleeve.
“you painted me?”
you nod, suddenly shy. “you're my favorite subject.”
suna doesn't say anything. instead, he pulls you into a hug—tight, warm, and lingering.
“okay, fine,” he murmurs into your hair. “i guess i kinda like being your muse.”
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kashimos-hajime · 16 hours ago
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—never wrong | s.r.
summary: “whatever ya say, rin. just follow my advice if you do do it. i’m never wrong.”
pairing: suna rintarou x reader
a/n: or the one where suna is jealous of everything and everyone for no reason, of course and we finally get some plot! | part of the undateable series
masterlist
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July is always miserable, in Suna’s honest opinion. The beginning of mugginess, blaring heat beating down on his dark hair, and he sweats. Everyone fucking sweats.
It makes the school a swamp of body odour, and everyone eager to crack open a window or escape to the beach. They daydream of wind, staring at the bright, summer blue sky as they slump over their desks and die of heat, and it’s how Suna finds himself bright and early on a Wednesday morning. 
Pressing his cheek against the lacquered wood of his desk, he stares at his phone screen and swipes mindlessly through his album at the photos he took of the flowers on his walk to the bus stop when someone grabs his attention.
Atsumu’s already leaning over Suna’s shoulder when he lifts his head, thankfully smelling like a fresh shower. His hair is still damp, and his collar is wrinkled beneath his tie. He debates telling his teammate for the sake of appearances, but as Atsumu talks to him, he solemnly decides that if he wants to embarrass himself, he can do it without Suna’s help.
“Say,” says the boy, “are you ever bored, Rinnie?”
Was that it? “No.” 
Pulling his phone up again, Suna scrolls through SNS, liking each post after a quick glance and ignoring the blond twin’s weight growing ever and ever heavier when he tries to sneak peaks at his screen. “Woah. You and Jisun are friends?”
“I guess.” Pale eyes flit to the top of his screen as in walks you in just your buttoned uniform shirt and skirt, talking to Mina. You hold a vitamin water in your hands, and a butterfly clip is tucked by your ear. Red and red, he notes, watching under his lashes as you toss a glance in their direction.
“Good morning, Atsumu,” you call, ignoring Mina’s giggle. “Suna-san.”
“Good morning, kuri-kuri. Looking a little scandalous today.”
You roll your eyes. “As if you’re not sweating with your jacket on.” Sitting down a few rows in front of him, you ease your school bag against your desk and Atsumu grins, nudging Suna’s shoulder.
“So if I propose something, you’ll say no?”
“Late for your own class in three minutes, Atsumu.”
“I have a great idea,” the other boy promises, drawing away and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. His hand plants on the edge of Suna's desk. “It’ll be fun.”
“Hm. Maybe.” Suna sets down his phone. “Which is edging on the side of ‘no.’”
“What? Why?”
“Probably because no one wants to get in between you and that pile of rainbow coloured mush you call a brain,” you say, appearing at Atsumu’s shoulder and holding a notebook with a frosted front cover. You give the standing boy a wicked glare before smiling at sitting one. “Thanks for letting me borrow this, Suna.”
It’s placed on the corner of his desk, and he drags it towards himself, slipping it into his school bag, all the while aware of Atsumu’s keen stare burning into the back of his hand. Glaring back at his teammate, he picks up his phone and resolutely ignores the other two hovering around his desk, cheek against his fist.
“And, Atsumu, you should get to your own homeroom,” you continue. You step in front of Atsumu entirely, and your hand brushes the corner of Suna’s desk before it latches onto Miya’s sleeve, tugging insistently. Suna’s eyes dart to your fingers, twisting the fabric, and hides his frown in his hand. “You’ll be late otherwise. You know how touchy Yoshida-sensei is.”
“You’re such a goody two-shoes,” he complains.
“How utterly terrible that one of us is,” you reply. “Either way, I won’t explain to Kita-san you’re late for practice because of detention.”
Atsumu groans and sighs dramatically, slumping. “Fiiiiiiiiine.”
He drags his feet on his way out of their classroom, and you turn to watch him leave. Your pretty frown is prominent in your voice when you turn back to him.
“What was he going on about?”
Lifting his gaze to eye you lazily, he shrugs. You’ve worn brown mascara today, instead of black. He wonders why.
“Beats me.”
.
He proposes it over lunch, in that smooth, charming way Miya Atsumu does.
“I have a date. Gin, somehow, has a date. Osamu’ll get a date and Kosaku’s… well. You know, in his long term, stable, healthy relationship, or whatever,” Atsumu stresses, pulling open his bento. “The only one who’s goin’ alone would be you.”
“So what?” Suna squeezes his juicebox, sucking the last of the apple juice out. Around them, the clamoring Inarizaki cafeteria cages them in within a deafening bubble and he leans on the table by his elbows, arching an eyebrow. “Who said I was going to the summer festival this year?”
“You always go,” he answers.
“I went last year,” the other corrects, ignoring the cold feeling slithering into his gut. He’d only been at Inarizaki for a few months before the guys had invited him—his first ‘school’ event in a new prefecture, away from home. It’d been enough that he had mentioned it to his parents, who had gushed on and on about fitting in. 
His lips twist into a frown. Embarrassing.
“And didn’t we have fun?”
Atsumu’s eyes are so damn big. Suna shrugs. “I guess. I just don’t see why I have to ask someone. I don’t want to go on a date.”
“Because you can’t get one?”
“What? No,” he retorts a little too quickly, and Atsumu’s grin grows horrifyingly. “I just don’t want to.”
“Because you’re a little nervous.” The idiot nods sagely, crossing his arms. “I see. Well, lemme coach ya real quick, Rinnie.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“All ya really have to do is go up to a girl you think is pretty, and say ‘would you like to go out with me?’ It’s not like it’s hard, ‘cause we’re both good lookin’ guys.”
Suna recoils at the idea, though. He doesn’t want to go out with someone that isn’t his friend, and he’s not interested in sharing so much of himself with another person in the first place, yet for the year and some change he’s been at Inarizaki, he’s heard of the numerous dates within their grade, the way gossip spreads like wildfire.
Aran had a girlfriend for a few months last year, too, until they broke up. Kosaku, of course, with the girlfriend he's had since junior high. Osamu’s gone on a few dates, too, and he’s never had anything bad to say about the girls he went out with.
You’re arriving at a table with your friends. You haven’t brought your own lunch today, and you’re placing your tray of food down before sitting, a new bottle of red vitamin water in the corner. The butterfly clip by your ear shines. You’ve had multiple boyfriends.
He rests his chin on the palm of his hand. “I’m not saying it’s hard.”
It’s just, what’s so damn interesting about being with someone, anyway?
“If you don’t wanna be in a relationship, it can be just a fun little thing,” Atsumu suggests. “Or one of your friends. Make it a friend thing.”
“How many friends do you have are girls?”
“Okay, well. Ask someone ya know, then, if you’re so picky. Someone like…” Atsumu pretends to think. The brunet has to resist the urge to get up and just walk out. The only thing stopping him is that he’s not done his stupid sandwich. “You can ask our new manager.”
He freezes mid-chew.
You’re hiding your smile behind a hand as you laugh, chopsticks anchored between your fingers. 
“The Undateable?” Suna drags his gaze from your image lingering over Atsumu’s shoulder to the piss stain sitting in front of him. “Yeah, right.”
“She’s only undateable if you want to date her,” Atsumu replies, eyes glinting. “Do you?”
“No.” 
“Then ask her.”
“No.”
“She’s pretty.”
“I know. I won’t ask her.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Because you’re scared.”
“I don’t get scared,” Suna answers evenly, coolly, but the way Atsumu’s smirk carves into his cheeks, digs underneath Suna’s flesh like little worms burrowing into his nerves, makes him want to fling a fork at his face. Maybe a knife. A sharp, pointed knife. “I don’t.”
He thinks Atsumu’s gonna keep ribbing at him, his voice enough to send Suna Rintarou into a cold, burning irritation that might end with only one of them leaving the cafeteria. But then he shrugs, looking down at his bento box, and Suna stares at the top of Atsumu’s head blankly at the way he's backed down so easily from a fight. It sets off klaxons in his skull, as if his foot is hovering over a landmine and he's about to lose balance and topple over. Suna is walking into a trap. He can see it from a mile away, and he's smart enough to avoid whatever taunting jab Atsumu's about to fling at him while he thinks his defenses are down—
But Atsumu simply says: “Whatever ya say, Rin. Just follow my advice if you do do it. I’m never wrong.”
.
Suna’s never done this before.
You’re sitting on the track, sucking down water during their gym class, hair scooped up away from your neck as your friend complains about the heat and flapping her towel uselessly as a makeshift fan. He’s still mid cool down stretch, but his limbs have always been limber and flexible, easily warmed up with help from the sun beating down on them. A few of the other students have tried to find shade underneath the bleachers, but you’re leaning back on your hands, face tilted to the sun with your eyes shut.
Mina gives up with her towel, bouncing on the balls of her feet. You peek open an eye lazily, say something that makes her kick your thigh gently before she’s reaching to pull you to your feet.
Suna scowls to himself.
Is he seriously debating doing this? 
After this, they’ll be dismissed for the day, and he’ll have to walk with you to the gym, as if you didn’t just say no to him.
Because you’ll say no to him.
If there’s one thing Suna’s good at, it’s knowing people.
Then, he’s standing in front of you, his hands shoved beneath the waistband of his shorts, and you’re giving him the weirdest look. Maybe he grew a second head when he blanked out in the ten seconds it took to walk over here. “Did you need something, Suna?”
“Nope. Do you wanna go out with me?”
Mina full on gawks as a harsh silence falls over them. There is the faint buzzing of insects flitting around their sweat-slick skin, people talking all around them. Your sneakers shift on the track, and your mouth struggles to find the words.
All the while, Suna’s standing there, stock still, and he fights the prickling sensation of how quickly your gaze goes cold. It’s enough to ward off any chance of heat rising to his face, or maybe for another sort of guy, it’d speed up the process. Luckily, Suna is a perpetual non-existent blusher. He doesn’t blush. He’s actually pretty certain he doesn’t know how to. 
At length: “What are you talking about?”
“Date. For the festival at the end of the month.”
You laugh disbelievingly, loudly. Enough that someone further down the bench looks at them weirdly. “Are you terminally ill?”
He frowns. “No?”
“Then, no.” You sling your towel over your shoulder and begin to bypass him, smiling apologetically. “No, thanks.”
He blinks.
You’re walking back to the change rooms with Mina, who doesn’t bother to keep her voice down as she wraps her arms around yours.
“That was so weird,” she admonishes and you tilt your head over your shoulder to find him staring.
Eyes widening, you snap back around and hasten your step.
Suna turns, taking a step towards your retreating figure before he realizes what he’s doing and he shakes himself, squeezing his eyes shut.
Atsumu has never been more damn wrong in his life.
That practice, you avoid his gaze and stick with Akagi, Ōmimi, Aran, and Kita, who all don’t mind their manager clinging to their tiny circle during a break in practice. Aran, in particular, has a soft spot for you, and Suna tries not to pay attention to every time the ace pats your head with a warm smile. 
Atsumu cries out for more water like a toddler. Osamu flings a volleyball at his head.
You laugh, duck out of Aran’s touch to collect water bottles to refill.
Childhood friends. Childhood friends.
Is that all it takes to get close to you? 
You would’ve said yes if one of them asked you. 
He’s sure of it.
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moechies · 5 months ago
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“wai—wait, no tongue rinnie, i dunno—“
“relax,” suna mumbles against your lips, pressing a soft kiss against your bottom lip. “i’ll teach you, don’t worry.” you whine, embarrassed that he may find your inexperience to be a turn off. “just follow through with m’tongue okay?”
“mhmn..” you mumble, gasping when he presses his swollen lips onto yours once again. he presses himself further into your body, your legs enveloping around his waist and tugging him in. you shiver, mouth gaping wider on instinct when you feel his silky tongue slip in between your lips, running itself over yours.
it’s so fucking wet, and so hot, you can taste his sweet spit on your tongue. it makes you ache everywhere, body sparked with excitement yet nervousness. “c’mon, try.” he groans against you, letting your tongue nervously glide against his on command. he lets out a guttural groan, grinding unconsciously into your thigh, mumbling a half coherent apology before he slips his tongue back into your mouth.
he runs the hot muscle over yours, curling over and around it with messy spit beginning to coat your lips. he doesn’t slow despite your tongue faltering and clearly weakening with every stroke of his tongue against yours. “y’r so weak baby.” he chuckles, pulling away slightly.
both of your breaths are labored, your softened eyes meet his , filled with so much love that they sparkle under the dim light. his pupils seem to dialate over and over, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight.
you can still feel the heat of his breath against your lips, one of his hands with a tight hold against your waist, and one sprawled across your shoulder — holding you still. it’s all so intimate, and all so new.
“can we d—do it again? wanna try again..” you quip, cheeks flushing at the dumb, dumb question.
as if he would say no.
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emmyrosee · 8 months ago
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“Get ready with me to breakup with my fiancé-“
“BUUUUUULLSHIT YOU ARE!”
Immediately, as soon as your first words are uttered over the recording video, Rintaro’s booms down the hallway. You laugh and smack your hand on the counter, trying to keep it as quiet as you can as you hear him continue to yell.
“THE FUCK YOU THINK THIS IS? WE’RE LOCKED IN, WHAT THE FUCK!” Socked feet barrel down the hall and you’re quick to hide the camera behind a bottle of mouthwash. His body quickly comes into the frame, chest puffed out and hands on his hips. “You got something you want to tell me?”
You pull your lips down in thought before shaking your head, “no. I don’t think so. I didn’t even know you were home.”
“Oh!” He says dramatically, clapping his hands together. “So you’re just always talking about dumping me to your little Internet friends?”
“Only in my fantasies,” you hum, tossing your arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. He pouts, and you giggle and kiss him again, “but if I ever do decide to dump you, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
This, has him blinking unamused at you. Then, his hands leap up to grab your cheeks, and he pulls you in for a loud, wet kiss, his lips pressing kisses over your laughing mouth, teeth, and lips. “Listen to me.”
“Rinnie!”
“No. Shush. Listen to me.” He pulls back and rests his head against yours, hands still squishing your cheeks. “I have shit out an engagement ring for you. I have your name tattooed on me. I got clawed to death by your rat fuck cat, and I have a shirt with your face on it that I wear when I go out. We’ve shared a toothbrush, you pinch my nipple when I’m showering, you text me and ask me if I’ve pooped, and I know damn well you take ugly pictures of me when I’m sleeping.”
“Your point?”
His nostrils flare, “you so much as THINK this relationship is ending, I’m going to tattle on you.”
“Oh, please-“
“To Komori.”
This, has you paling, and you nod softly and gently grab his shoulders, “no, okay, you’re right, you’re right baby, I’m sorry.” He nods as you press a kiss to his lips, “but in all seriousness-“
“Oh, I’m serious, too.”
You snicker, “in my seriousness, I’m never going to leave you.” You flash your engagement ring to the camera and purse your lips out, and he smiles down at you. “who else is going to poop out a ring, then lie to the salesman about why we’re returning it, and get me a new one, hmm?”
“Thankfully, I’m the only one who will.” He kisses your forehead, then looks at you with sad eyes. “We’re locked in?”
“Yeah baby,” you giggle, kissing his nose. “We’re locked in.”
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makkir0ll · 8 months ago
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between you and your husband, you were the one more…vocal about your love for him. leaving him sweet notes with doodles of the two of you in his lunch, ending all heartfelt messages with x’s, planting a big kiss on his cheek that he pretended to cringe at but in reality he looked forward to it everytime he left the house.
people would always come up to you, telling you that he doesn’t reciprocate his love with words and such and asking you how you dealt with it. truth be told it took a while for you to get used to but soon enough you began to see the signs.
it was the way that every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he would tuck your feet back into bed. the way he spent a solid twenty minutes cleaning your phone screen, and with furrowed brows as he placed your new screen protector on, making sure there were no bubbles. it was when you opened his wallet that you saw all the notes you wrote him saved in one pocket of his shitty leather wallet that was begging to be put to rest. it's the way when you come home after a long night out with your friends he takes his time undressing you, removing and placing your jewelry carefully on your bedside table and making sure to gently take off your makeup and of course do your skincare routine that he has memeorized. when he goes out and he spots a little something with your favorite character on it he buys it immediately, not bothering to look at the price tag because the way your eyes would light up when he brought home the little gift was worth more than a billion dollars to him.
it was when on your third month anniversary when the two of you were still dating, while the two of you sat down on the booth next to each other at a restaurant he held your hand and squeezed it three times. signifying the words, i love you. he knew he loved you from the start but was scared it was too soon to say it and this was his silent way of telling you so. and you picked up on it quickly when he started to do it more often.
and on your wedding day, as the two of you stand in front of all your loved ones and the officiator he says the most beautiful vows ever, telling you that "if death do us part then i hope to find you in every lifetime" and once he ended with that sentence, he squeezed your hand three times. i. love. you.
you always knew your husband loved you because his actions spoke a thousand words to you.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜
sigh. TSUKISHIMA FREAKING KEI!!!!!!!!, akaashi keiji (he writes notes back to you), KITA. SHINSUKE., iwaizumi hajime (30) athletic trainer, suna rintarou, USHIJIMA, kageyama tobio (squeezed your hand a lot when you started dating), MIYA OSAMU, sakusa kiyoomi, OH OH OH AONE!!,
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merlucide · 26 days ago
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BOKUTO.ೃ࿔* who desperately wants you to think he’s cool. He’ll do everything in his power to impress you—oh, your bag is too heavy? No problem! Bo’s got it! aaaand he can carry Akaashi’s bag too! See how strong he is? Isn’t he the coolest?! Wait—hold on, you really think so?
KUROO.ೃ࿔* who loves when you manhandle him. Tug him by his tie, and honey he’s at your mercy. Slide your hands along his neck with that sly smile of yours, and you’ll have him utterly undone. He just has to lean in with a lopsided smirk, hand cupping your jaw, being completely enchanted by you.
TSUKKI.ೃ࿔* who keeps you from wandering aimlessly like a lost puppy. You always ‘turn your brain off’, according to Kei. he’ll firmly place his hand on the top of your head and steer you in the right direction, rolling his eyes and teasing about how you’d be completely and utterly lost without him.
SUNARIN.ೃ࿔* who always, ALWAYS, has to have his hands on you. If you are with in reach he will rest his hands on your hips and tug you against him. If you’re walking around then your fingers will be interlocked. He also likes to put his hand in your back pocket in your jeans
IWAIZUMI.ೃ࿔* who gets genuinely gets flustered every time you compliment him. It could be anything small, like a simple ‘That’s a good color on you’ has him bashfully muttering a small ‘thanks,’ with his cheeks tinged pink. He hates how easily you turn him into a mess—especially when you giggle in realization and lean in to kiss him— Oh he just can’t take it!!
AKAASHI.ೃ࿔* who always walks you to and from your destination, no matter the time, place, or weather. Any time spent with you is spent well. He needs to make sure you get to your destination safely of course! He waits until he absolutely cannot see you anymore before he starts his journey back.
ATSUMU.ೃ࿔* who gives the BEST hugs. You always feel so safe and so loved when his arms are wrapped firmly around your waist. His head tucks into your neck as if he never wants to let go. And when he’s feeling all soft, he’ll cradle your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing tenderly across your skin as he gazes at you like you hung the stars. Though, that’s just ‘Tsumu’s normal expression when you’re around.
KAGEYAMA.ೃ࿔* who’s always looking for you, even if you’re not there. It’s just a habit of his, probably because his mind is constantly plagued of your smiling face 24/7. The moment he spots you, he’s making a beeline, linking his pinky with yours whispering ‘What took you so long?’.
USHIWAKA.ೃ࿔* who’s the perfect gentleman. He pulls out your chair, walks on the side closest to the road, and never shows up empty-handed, always bringing you a bouquet of roses on every Sunday with a respectful kiss on the hand. Life with ‘Toshi is as easy as breathing.
OIKAWA.ೃ࿔* who can’t help but be ridiculously cheesy, really he can’t! Not when you’re his darling sugarplum and one and only till the end of forever! Reject his dramatic love proclamations? Oh, absolutely not! That’s just who he is, and you’ll have to endure it, sweetheart.
HINATA.ೃ࿔* who always offers piggyback rides when your feet hurt. Don’t underestimate his little body!—he can lift you with ease, carrying you down the street like it’s nothing. Sho’ would insist you get on his back regardless if your feet hurt or not—can you really blame him? Who wouldn’t want a cutie hanging onto them!
KENMA.ೃ࿔* who silently watches you in admiration when you put your makeup on. Sitting on the toilet lid, he holds your makeup bag and hands you your lip gloss before you even ask. He shyly looks away with his cheeks warm and lips pursed together when you ask ‘how do I look?’.
OSAMU.ೃ࿔* who can’t help the loopy grin on his face when you do a little twirl, showing off your new outfit. He could care less about shopping, truly, he hates it. But if it means seeing you all dolled up and happy, he doesn’t mind it one bit.
SAKUSA.ೃ࿔* who pulls you close to him when you are in public spaces. He takes your hands and squirts his Hello Kitty hand sanitizer (The one you got him) into your hands before rubbing his own. Scathingly glares at the man who accidentally bumped into you. He absolutely cannot let you have unwanted contact with strangers! no yucky germs allowed on his baby.
YAMAGUCHI.ೃ࿔* who always firmly holds your hand in crowds. Out in public he’ll hold your hand regardless, but when everyone is packed together his anxiety skyrockets. He’s always nervous of you two being separated in the crowd. He takes the lead to guide you both out of the mingled mess of people, and when it’s over, please give him a  forehead kiss—he’s earned it.
TENDOU.ೃ࿔* who takes Shounen Saturdays very seriously. You don’t get to skip it! Not when it’s a sacred tradition of binge-watching both of your favorite shows with sugary snacks! You two are all bundled together on the couch and gasping and giggling at the TV. He refuses to let you watch the next episode without him, Will curse your whole bloodline if you do (affectionate).
HOSHIUMI.ೃ࿔* who might just be the worst person to play board games with. When he’s winning, he’s full of smug trash talk, loudly boasting about his ‘inevitable victory’, but the second he starts losing? ‘This game is rigged!’ ‘you cheated!,’ or ‘this is bullshit!’. It’s even worse better when there’s a bet involved—he’ll do anything to avoid letting you win. That’s how you get him to help you clean most the time hehe.
LEV.ೃ࿔* who clings to you, always. You are concerned for his neck and back for always resting around you in uncomfortable positions, but he never seems to complain. Standing up Lev has his arms around you and head smushed against yours, laying down his long legs wrap around your own and he burrows himself in your warmth. If Lev could have it his way, he would never stop touching you.
AONE.ೃ࿔* who’s a certified purse carrier. you don’t make him— of course not! He insists actually. He could care less about being seen with a hot pink decorated purse slung on his arm, it’s quite the sight. This also goes for shopping of course, Nobu’ just trails behind with arms full of whatever you managed to snag on 50% off.
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uhu I wrote some for kyotani+suga+goshiki+etc but I didn’t like them sob sob
lemme know whatcha think! (And if I should do pt2 lolz)
made January 26th 2025
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sunarc · 1 year ago
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Based on this nsfw audio
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Boys who absolutely lose themselves when they sink their cock into your pussy. They go from being this beefy big scary man to a whimpering moaning mess. He has his face shoved into the crook of your neck while his hands grip your legs spreading them apart so he can shove himself deeper inside of you. His whimpers are so loud and anyone outside of you would never think that he would lose himself whimpering begging you to let him cum inside of you. 
“Oh fuck please baby let me make you mine baby please” he pants breathlessly into your ear. 
His moans sound so pretty paired with his wild thrust. He can barely think straight. The only thought that plagues his mind is how good your pussy feels sucking his cock in. He sounds like a broken record whining for you begging for your pussy. 
“Feels so good baby I- I cant stop” he stutters out barely able to form a dull sentence. 
He’s so pussy drunk off of you. His fingers dig into your skin as he plunges his cock into, fucking you as if he were feral. 
“Mine, Mine Mine” he chants like a choir. 
Your moans mix in with his creating a tune he never wants to forget. Moments like this he can’t help but fuck himself into overstimulation. He just loves the feeling of your warmth sucking him in, creating loud wet noises to match his reckless thrust. His voice is shaky as he whimpers about how good your pussy feels. His hands push your thighs up folding you into a mating press so that he can see how perfect your pussy looks sucking him in. He’s so mesmerized by the sight. The way your pussy creams around his cock creating a mess he promises to clean up with his tongue. 
“My pretty baby” his eyes are wide and filled with lust. 
He’s long gone consumed by the pleasure. His hips slam against yours as he promises himself to you whispering and begging you to let him be yours. To anyone else he’s a scary man looks like he could kill you with his stare alone but to you he’s a sweet baby who just needs to have his cock shoveled deep inside of you to feel good. 
“Fuck I’m gonna cum baby please can I cum in your pretty pussy please let me cum” his eyes are squeezed shut while he fucks his cock so deep into you, you can barely think straight yourself. You nod your head too weak to speak. He throws his head back whimpering a sighing thanking you for being his good baby. When he cums he gets louder. He grunts and whimpering trembling as his cock dips in and out of you while his cum drips down the side. He slips his cock out of you gasping at the sudden release from your hole. He kneels down licking a long strip of the cum that drools down between your folds. 
“Let me help clean you up baby, promise I’ll do a good job”
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Gojo, Megumi, Yuta, Atsumu, Suna, Iwaizumi, Sugawara, Oikawa, Connie, Armin, Jean
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f4xrocket · 2 days ago
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ALL A GAME ๋࣭ ⭑r. suna
introduction: payed shit talkers
m.list
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notes:
- yn is a photo journalism major
- joined her schools newspaper her freshmen year in hopes to make friends and because she thought it would be fun
- it’s not fun but she definitely got friends!!
- Akaashi is a literature major and joined because he wanted experience
- they became quick friends
- Oikawa and Alisa did not major in anything that has to do with the newspaper, they both purely joined for the drama
- yn and akaashi are still amazed they are still allowed to write for it
- Oikawa does not play for their college team anymore, because he just got offered to go to Argentina
- He leaves in a couple of months and is so excited
- the gc is sad for when he has to go but will never let him know that
- they have their fun though
- they all warmed up to eachother and now have a group chat away from everyone else
- gained their name because they end up doing a lot more shit talking in this GC than talking about work
- also I haven’t decided whether this is gonna have a happy or sad ending so !
- also none of the introductions were proof read so I’m rlly sorry for any spelling errors you might come across
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tiza0925 · 11 months ago
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Hello! I'm new to this but have you ever thought about any of your favorite characters while they're in the act and you look down at a certain part and they're so big on you that it scares you but they're pretty sure it could fit.I don't know if you could write something like that, sorry if it makes you uncomfortable.
hellooo, absolutely love this prompt so much ty for this ♡
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men that make it fit | 18+
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warnings/tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, size difference, fingering, pet names, praise kink, squirting, raw sex, implied multiple orgasms, large cocks ♡
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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Big men who just cover your entire body with theirs when they’re on top of you. 
Guys who make you feel so small when you’re on their lap, their hands are so damn big that they can cover your entire waist, legs, and hands—practically engulfing you. 
Big men that just pin you to the mattress while making out with you, they’re so strong without needing to try, and you probably should feel scared by the difference in strengths but god—you feel so secure. 
And you know he’ll take care of you even if he can hurt you sometimes—never on purpose unless you want it—because of how massive he is. 
Guys who feel just a little bad when they hear you cry from them pushing their thick fingers inside you—stretching your poor cunt and making you leak all over his hand as he curls his fingers inside your plush walls, coaxing out a throbbing orgasm from you. 
“Such a sweet little thing for me,” You hear him murmur, watching as your face twists with pleasure, and he can see the slight worry in your eyes as he fucks you with his fingers. “My baby is taking me so well already.” 
But can you take his cock? 
Fuck—what if it’s too big? 
It must be—his fingers are already too much for you—his dick will be nearly impossible to fit inside you. 
“You think you can be good and take my cock?” You whine, feeling heady and muddy as he pins both of your hands above your head on the bed, while his other hand continues to twist and curl inside you, his thumb pressing and rubbing your swollen clit. “I want to feel my favourite pussy, sweetheart.” 
But you suck in a shaky breath, eyes wide and scared because you know you can’t fit all of him in, and he chuckles breathlessly as he kisses your lips so softly, making you melt against him. 
“Don’t be scared,” He kisses your cheek, then gives your trembling lower lip a gentle pull with his mouth, trying to get you relaxed as he strums his fingers through your sopping folds, his voice low and deceptively soothing. “I’ll be gentle with you, okay?” 
He always is—and that’s the thing. 
No matter how gentle he tries to be—he still ends up stretching you so wide that you think you might actually split in half, the sting of him inside you being too much that you cry sometimes.
He kisses you, and reassures you, hand running up and down your body to spread goosebumps all over your skin. 
Then he’s pushing his pants off to let his fat cock bounce free—it lands on your belly, all hot and heavy, and your breath hitches as electricity sparks through your body—and your heart rate doubles with every passing moment, just waiting for him to stuff you with his cock. 
“Relax for me,” He says while guiding his dick to slide between your plush pussy, letting your slick folds hug his length and coat them in juices as he rocks his hips—his cock head bumping against your clit every time his hips are flushed against yours. 
“You feel that, baby?” Your lashes flutter, your eyes half-lidded as he works you up, making your cunt pulse as he glides his heavy cock over it. “You’re gonna be so good and fit all of me, okay?” 
You gulp, but you still nod—because you want to be good for him. 
You want to feel him and make him feel good. 
And he watches you, focused, taking in every twitch of your features as he slowly pushes the head of his dick inside you—his eyes alight with heat when he sees the way your mouth pops open with a gasp, already feeling the intense stretch of him. 
“You’re okay, baby,” he shushes you, sliding his hands under your thighs to guide them around his waist, and you whine as you hook your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, sloppily kissing him as he waits for you to adjust. “You feel so tight already—fuck—”
He groans, his voice vibrating against you, and you begin to breathe heavily as he pushes his fat cock into you—making you feel every agonizing inch as your pussy struggles to swallow him whole. 
“I—“ Your sentence gets cut short as you choke, already feeling him in your lungs and he’s only halfway in, “I can’t—”
“You can,” One of his hands comes up to swipe a fallen tear on your cheek with his thumb, while his other hand pins you to the bed by the waist. “I know you can, baby, you always did before.”
Which is true—you always did but—
It’s just so fucking big—holy shit—
You bite your lip, and your eyes squeeze shut as you try your hardest to relax—your fluids being pushed out as he lodges his dick inside your warm, plush walls, causing a wet mess all over your thighs and bed. 
You hold him as if you’re clinging onto dear life—taking all of him as he kisses you through it—until his hips finally press against your ass, his cock so deep that your limbs grow numb and you swear you can orgasm already. 
“There you go, sweetheart,” He purrs, waiting a moment as your pussy throbs around him, feeling abused and soaked, and he smiles down at you so achingly soft. “Taking me all like a good girl for me.” 
Then he pulls back—
“Oh god—” And you keen when he rocks his hips forward, sliding his cock along your walls, and he sets a pace of fucking you—getting you wet and your eyes to roll back as he becomes greedy with your pussy. 
“Look, baby,” He grunts, thrusting his cock in and out, his length coming out slick and creamy from your arousal, and he grips your face—fingers squishing your cheeks—to make you look down. “Look how well you’re taking me.” 
Your vision is foggy, you’re barely able to comprehend anything except for the dick inside your sore cunt, and you blink blearily as you try to look at what he wants you to see and—
Fuck.
You watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, his girth forcing its way into you—and you let out a shaky breath at the way you’re taking it all in. 
Just like he said you would. 
“Told you I’ll make it fit, sweetheart, I always do,” You hear him murmur, and you force yourself to relax into a ragged breath as your limps melt into the mattress beneath you.
You feel like you’re being split in half as he fucks you over and over, bringing you higher and higher until you’re cumming all over him—gushing out liquid as you squirt on his cock with a wet moan, his name on your tongue—
And he takes good care of you throughout it all. His aftercare overwhelms you with cuddles of love and affirmation.
He loves you too much, anyway.
End.
Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Atsumu, Suna, Gojo, Choso, Sakusa, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Akaza, Oda, Kuroo, Hinata, plus any of your fav characters ♡
Masterpost
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fatherbrat · 3 months ago
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TELL ME AGAIN, R. SUNA
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sum. sequel to one last time. you visit suna after listening to the voicenote he sent you, just to talk, and end up doing a little more than that.
feat. rintaro suna
cw. cheating/infidelity, suna really got on my nerves while i was writing this and he'll probably get on yours too, arguing, choking (m. receiving), edging, cunnilingus, a little manhandling kinda, missionary, multiple instances of "i miss/ed you"
wc. 2k
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Suna tries his best to keep the shit-eating grin off his face when you text him to ask if he’s home. 
He knew that voice message would get you. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him it would be a monumental embarrassment if you didn’t, but it was drowned out by all the other voices in his head telling him to send, send, send, send.
His stomach turns with anticipation. He doesn’t even answer your question, just orders an Uber and sends you the car make and model and how long it will take to get to your apartment. 6 minutes. And then 12 minutes from yours to his. 
He fishes out the fancy santal candle he knows you like from beneath the bathroom sink and lights it in his bedroom. Then he brushes his teeth and puts some music on and waits.
He jumps when the doorbell rings.
There’s a moment of silence when he opens the door, the two of you just looking at each other. It hits Suna that this is the first time he’s seen you in person in months. He used to see you everyday. There's a part of his chest that seems to ache at the realization. He ignores it.
“Hi,” you breathe.
He blinks once. Twice. “Hey.” He opens the door a little wider and shifts to the side so you can come in.
You take one step closer and then stop, eyeing him with unjust suspicion. “I didn’t come over here to fuck you.”
Suna takes one look at your outfit—shorts that are definitely too short to be comfortable in this chilly fall weather and a sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his—and knows you’re lying. He doesn’t call you out, just grins and shrugs and ushers you inside anyway. 
You lean against the kitchen counter to survey the living room, pleased to see that it looks exactly the same as the last time you were here. Suna’s still standing by the door when you look at him again, arms crossed.
“So why’d you come over?” he asks.
It’s your turn to shrug. “You said you missed me.”
“Did I?”
You give him a sideways look. “You did.” You drag out the two words, nodding slowly and widening your eyes as if you’re speaking to a child.
Suna tilts his head to the side, smiling a little. “What else did I say?”
Oh lord. You should’ve known he’d be annoying about it. You shift your gaze up to the ceiling, pretending to struggle to remember even though you listened to his message several times, including once on the car ride over. 
“You said you weren’t happy for me…which is pretty fucked up.”
Suna just rolls his eyes. “What else?”
Eyes on the ceiling again. “You said you liked my Halloween costume. And that if I had sex with you it wouldn’t count as cheating because I haven’t been with him that long.” You put air quotes around his claim, sliding your eyes back down to meet his.
He’s standing closer to you now than he was a minute ago, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. “Now that part’s fucked up. Where is the boyfriend, by the way?”
You make a face and look at the time on the microwave. “Probably home. Probably asleep.”
“Yeah? How’s he doing?” He closes what’s left of the gap between you and tugs on the drawstring of your (his) sweatshirt to even out both ends.
“Fine…” you whisper, breath hitching when his hand brushes your ear on the way to your hoodie.
He hums after fixing the string and walks towards his bedroom, tapping your bare thigh as he passes you as a silent cue to follow.
You realize that he doesn’t believe your intentions for coming over are pure, which is true, but you don’t like that he didn’t even pretend to believe you. 
You follow his lead anyway, resting your head against the doorframe and watching him fish his phone out of his pocket and dump it on his desk. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.
“I told you I just came over here to talk,” you snap.
Suna’s response is automatic. “No, you said you didn’t come over here to fuck.”
“Rin.”
He puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees and his hands beneath his chin. “Alright. Talk.”
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have come.” You twist your foot to turn around and immediately hear the bed creak with relief. Suna wraps his hand around your wrist before you can fully turn your back.
“Wait, I’m sorry,” he says. “Stay. Please?”
He sounds like he’s begging. He looks like he’s begging, with his slumped shoulders and pleading eyes and desperation written all over his pretty face. 
It’s not enough. 
“My boyfriend doesn’t taunt me like this, you know,” you tell him, indignant.
Suna’s grip on your arms loosens as his face falls a bit.
You continue. “He’s actually nice to me. And he’s romantic. Treats me like royalty.”
You watch Suna’s jaw tick. His hand returns to his side. “He’s boring.”
“He’s steady.”
Suna’s tone grows terse. “Dull. Stale. Bland. Vanilla.”
“Stable and secure and safe.”
Suna snorts. “Safe,” he repeats, sarcastic. “I seriously don’t get how you can date him.” 
“Because he’s my boyfriend who I love and not just some guy I used to fuck when I was lonely.”
It’s a low blow. You and Suna were friends long before the benefits came along. Good friends. Close friends.
If he’s offended he doesn’t show it, just latches on to the first part of your sentence. “You don’t love him.”
He’s right. “You’re wrong.”
“Really? Why are you here then?” He narrows his eyes. “And don’t say it’s because I said I missed you.”
You’re not sure when you started taking steps forward, or when Suna started moving backwards, but his calves hit the edge of the bed and suddenly he’s sitting again, looking up at you with that infuriating self-righteousness that makes your eye twitch.
And then your hand is squeezing his throat and your lips are on his and you’re straddling him and moaning into his mouth.
You feel him start to smile against you before he pulls away. 
He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Don’t fucking say anything,” you tell him, before tugging his face towards you neck. 
You can tell Suna’s still smiling, but he obeys, sucking the tender spot right above your collarbone without another word. His hands find the bottom of your sweatshirt and he pulls it up. 
His lips leave your skin and your hand leaves his neck so you can take your arms out of the sleeves and he can yank it over your head and drop it on the floor. Then he rests his hands on your hips and just looks at you. 
Goosebumps dance across your shoulders and arms. Suna wants to comment on how you're not wearing a bra but he doesn’t, just continues to stare. 
“What?” you ask.
He takes in the sight of you on top of him, the rise and fall of your chest—quicker than normal, a side effect of him riling you up. He revels in the weight of you on his legs and tries to recall the last time you had him beneath you like this. Your birthday? His birthday? Or maybe it was that time he tried to cheer you up after you got laid off. Either way, it’s been a long time and he hates to think about how you’ve probably been doing this with your boyfriend instead of him.
He can’t help himself. “You straddle the boyfriend like this?”
You huff and press your palm to his chest, shoving him onto his back. Your face hovers over his. “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”
Suna studies your face and puts his hands around your waist and beams. It’s the only signal you get before he flips you, putting your head on a pillow and taking his own shirt off before he drops it on the ground somewhere near your hoodie.
You prop yourself up on your elbows, glancing at the hard outline growing in his sweats as you trail your fingertips up his thigh. He leans into you and rests his forehead against yours. 
“I missed you,” he says softly. 
Your heart beats at a concerning speed. “I know.”
He gets up from the bed and snaps the waistband of your shorts before telling you to take them off and removing the rest of his own clothes. When he crouches over you again, you place the sole of your foot flat against him and tut. 
“You also said you’d do that thing I like with your tongue.”
Again, Suna chooses not to comment. He wonders how many times you listened to the message, because it’s sounding like more than once, more than a couple. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed, forcing a giggle out of your throat before he plants his head between your legs. 
He circles your clit, avoiding making contact with it directly and making teasing strokes with his fingers until you’re panting and quivering and making shaky demands for him to let you come on his tongue. When he does, you scream his name. 
“Music to my fucking ears,” he says under his breath, licking your slick off his lips. “You scream this loud for him too?”
You can't believe you forgot how aggravating he is. “Shut up and fuck me.”
He looks so smug. You start to think that the desperation from before was too short-lived, until he’s inside you and you’re filled with him and that familiar need that makes you wrap your legs around him and claw at his back.
All you can think about is how you miss him and you missed this, and you’re telling him to fuck you harder, and then his mouth is right below your ear and his hair is tickling your cheek and a stream of yes’s and Rin’s are tumbling out of your mouth like dominoes and youre trying to pull him impossibly closer and youre so surrounded by him that its dizzying and youre whispering i miss you in his ear and hoping it doesnt sound like i love you and hes saying i miss you too and youre wondering if he really means i love you too and then youre biting into his shoulder and—  
You lose count of how many times you come. Both of you do. The two of you are coated in sweat, laying on damp sheets in a room that now smells like sex and sandalwood. Neither of you speak, busy catching your breath and being lost in thought. You don’t want to say anything, afraid you’ll break the spell.
You didn’t have to worry about that, though, because you hear your phone ping loudly and realize it’s on the floor, still tucked away in the front pocket of your sweatshirt. Suna turns his head towards you.
“You should break up with him.”
You raise an eyebrow at the seriousness in his voice and sigh. “I know.”
“Today.”
A pause. “Okay.”
There’s another moment where none of you speak. And then–
“You should date me instead.”
You turn to face him and the earnestness in his expression catches you so off guard you have to look away again. It’s not that you never expected him to bring it up, you just hadn't expected him to sound so sincere when he did.
You had toyed with the idea before, a handful of times even, but everything between you two was so easy—why would you mess it up with a what are we? conversation? Although, you suppose you messed it up anyway by getting a boyfriend and ditching Suna without warning.
It takes you a long time to respond, long enough that Suna starts to game plan an exit strategy, but then you meet his gaze again.
“Okay.”
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tonycries · 11 months ago
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Little Heaven
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Synopsis. He’s just your friend-with-benefits, right? So why - in the still haze of the soft sheets and you, fúcking you so sensual and tenderly - does he feel like he’s found his own personal heaven?
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, kinda fluffy, he’s both pússydrunk and in love, slow to rough, marking, mentions of marriage and kids, morning, swearing.
Word count. 1.3k
A/N. Probably the fluffiest smút I’ve ever written.
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You were just his friend-with-benefits, right? No strings attached, right? 
So why was he here? Sinking into your plush mattress, quiet morning sun just barely peeking in through the curtains as he wraps his arms around your naked figure. 
God, he really shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be laying you on your side, drinking in your soft little, “G’mornin’.” Both of your movements languid and still burning with soreness. Your hips pushing back desperately into his as he positions himself so that his leaking tip was just kissing your swollen folds. 
He shouldn’t be whispering soft kisses into the marks that littered your skin. Licking one, long stripe up the sinful trail of hickies down your neck. All sensual touches where it was bruising grips last night. 
That was rule #1, right? No marks. 
Or was it #4… 
Ah, right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck. Not when his greedy eyes wander the expanse of your face, fingers trailing along the features he’s mapped a thousand times over. Tracing delicate patterns across your skin, snaking down, down, down to leisurely lift your leg a little higher. 
Bare chest warm against your back, his voice is low and gravelly in your ear as he whispers, “I had a dream y’know.” 
Mind still thinly veiled with sleep, you lean into his warm touch, “Mhm?” 
Your breath hitches at the way he drags his swollen head teasingly across your slit, pooling your slick on his achingly hard tip. Smearing your juices with his thumb as he pumps himself lazily. It’s so torturously good. You almost miss the way he buries his face into the crook of your neck, murmuring a soft “Had a dream of us.”
Oh? 
Before you can overthink his words, he’s nudging in gently. So agonizingly gentle. And you can do nothing more than let out barely-audible whispers of his name as he bullies his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. 
You feel so full. So drunk off of the delicious burn of your pussy and him. 
And it seems he was drunk on you just as much, because as soon as his hips are flush against yours, the words escape him. So quiet and groggy with sleep, that you almost don’t catch them.
“Had a dream that I made you my beautiful bride.”
Oh. 
That was new. His words hung heavy in the heady air. 
Shivers run down your spine - all the way to where he was buried in your dripping cunt. Your voice is slightly shaky as you let out a humorless laugh, “Oh yeah? Must’ve been a nightmare then.”
Soft lips press against your forehead, breathing in your scent. Absolutely searing as he mutters out a muffled, “No, was the best dream I ever had.”
And then, with the audacity of someone who didn’t just send your mind reeling, he pulls his hips back unhurriedly. Immediately fucking into you at a slow, sensual pace. Tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips languidly into yours, making sure you feel every bump and graze against your tight walls.
You don’t know what’s more maddening - his agonizing pace or the words that tumble out of his lips. “Y’looked so beautiful in white. So pretty walking down the aisle to me.” 
His lips brush against yours, hands dancing across every inch of you he could reach. Gently caressing the skin like it’s something divine, soothing over the marks from last night as if an apology. “Don’ think I’d want to see anyone else there.”
You glance back at him - only to find his eyes already on you. A jolt of electricity runs across your skin at the pure warmth in them. And you realize that, no, this wasn’t a joke. 
Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply grind your hips down to meet his, abs rubbing against your ass. Letting out a broken whimper of what sounds like his name as he moves down a hand to press rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. 
“Saw a little something else too.” he hums, a sly smile curling his lips as his other hand dances across your body to press down on your stomach. Hard. “Saw that I had some competition - two actually. Funny, right?”
“Hah- h-hilarious.” you manage to choke out as his thumb speeds up on your clit, hips moving a bit more purposefully. A bit more like you were used to. Rock-hard cock plunging into your quivering cunt in deliberate, sloppy thrusts that have you white-knuckling the sheets. 
“Though…” he trails off dangerously, pulling back all the way until his furiously hard tip was just kissing your waiting hole. “I wouldn’t really mind.”
And with that he’s sheathing his throbbing erection in your wet pussy completely. A gasp of delight leaves him at the way you take him so readily. Walls sucking him up so sinfully - perfect. You were always so perfect for him. 
“Dreamt we had a lil’ house with a big garden.” God, he can feel his cock harden so painfully at the fucked-out little ah! ah! ah! leaving your pretty lips each time his hip smack into yours. It’s music to his ears, such a shame he just can’t shut the fuck up right now. “And then you dressed the kids up while I made breakfast.”
“Then you made us do taxes and I didn’t even fucking mind.” His voice is strained now, words slurring together as he rams his cock deeper and deeper, glistening with your slick in the soft morning glow. 
“And finally at night, I say we should make a third one.” 
He looks at you, a sly grin stretching his lips, eyes half-lidded and a dangerous twinkle in them that has you wondering whether everything he said before was merely a ruse to fuck you silly. And it probably shows on your face - because he grins lowly in your ear, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, we have till our wedding night f’me to fuck you slow.”
And oh he almost feels guilty. But he can’t bring himself to slow down at the way your swollen lips drop into such a pretty oh! at his words. Mewling at the sting of his heavy balls as they smack your ass. Walls clamping down desperately on his dick, milking him for every drop of pleasure. Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy as he focuses on making you lose your mind. 
He shifts his angle slightly, grinding expertly against your g-spot just right, and you throw your head back, releasing a low moan of his name.
“Shit. Yeah, say m’name, sweetheart. Jus’ like that.” he moans breathlessly. 
His name - soon to be yours.
Maybe.
You turn your head to face him, eyes fiery as you capture his in an equally scorching kiss. Cock slamming into your poor, abused cunt with an intensity that matches that of your lips.
Probably. 
Biting down on his lower lips, soft yet insistent. Humming deliriously against his mouth - and in the heat of it all, he feels you smile against his lips. Ever-so-slightly. 
Definitely. 
And then you’re cumming. White-hot pleasure behind your eyes, walls clamping down so deliciously around his twitching cock. It sends him over the edge as well - whispering your name as if a prayer, voice hoarse with emotions neither of you could name at this very moment. 
Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your trembling cunt white, milking the soul out of him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forming around his base as some truly animalistic part of himself fucks his seed into you - a promise, he likes to think.
“I’m serious about the dream.”
Almost as gentle as that one. 
As the haze settles, his thrusts slowing down to just shallow grinds, a fragile silence envelopes the room as neither of you speak. Because maybe no other words were needed. 
And right now, morning sunlight harsh on his skin, strong arms pulling you warm body flush against his, no one but you two in this quiet world - he doesn’t think he’d like to be anywhere else.
All is well in your little heaven.
- GOJO, GETO, Choso, SUNA, ATSUMU, Tsukishima, Kuroo, EREN
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A/N. Bro it took longer to think of what to write than to write this. 
Plagiarism not authorized.
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katescorner · 20 days ago
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suna "we're just friends" rintaro who's actually in a secret relationship with you, but feels the need to keep it a secret until it gets more serious because he's scared. except the miya twins have caught on, and they have a running bet going for who's going to spill first. atsumu thinks suna would rather keel over than admit to them he's dating someone, but osamu is smugly convinced that his friend's resolve is weaker than yours. so they decide to put it to the test.
it starts off . . . weird. osamu is putting moves on you, and you have no idea what to make of it. he's asking to walk you home and tells you that you should come to watch them practice. he even shoves atsumu out of their usual seat in the cafeteria to invite you to sit next to him. he seems really interested in you, and you don't want to be mean, but you also can't lead him on.
you're too focused on osamu's strange behavior to notice that he only acts this way when suna is around. so you don't see the way your boyfriend clenches and unclenches his fists when he overhears osamu wanting to walk you home after school. you don't hear the huff he lets out or how he slams his locker door a little harder when osamu invites you to watch them play with a well practiced smile. and you certainly don't realize the sheet white paleness that grows on his face when osamu shoves atsumu off the bench to make space for you.
suna doesn't blame you. his friends are idiots and getting on his last nerve. but everything comes to a screeching halt when osamu puts his arm around your shoulder, and suna absolutely loses it.
"we're dating!" it's the closest he gets to yelling without actually, but it's loud.
"damn it!" atsumu shouts, but suna doesn't hear. he practically has tunnel vision, zeroed in on where osamu connects to you.
"we're dating," he repeats through gritted teeth. "so get your grimy slimy spiker little hands—" he stalks over to osamu with surprising speed to knock his hand off of you, "off of my—"
"rintaro," you scold softly, and the twins try not to react when their usually unbothered and finicky middle blocker . . . listens?
"he—you're my—i'm—" he erupts in an aggravated groan and quickly decides to pull you to his side, away from osamu.
suna starts mumbling things under his breath they can't hear. his words are clearly reserved only for you, but the twins watch quietly anyway as you smooth away the worry lines growing on his face from his furrowed eyebrows and press a soft kiss to his cheek that has leaves them dusted in the slightest pink. he's whipped, and suddenly the only thing the miyas could think of was—how the hell did they not notice sooner?
yes i'm a soft lovesick sunarin truther. that man is a simp and i take no arguments
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emmyrosee · 5 months ago
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Rintaro has no idea what’s coming to him.
So far, there’s been three videos about couples breaking up on your for-you-page, full of tears and heartbreak and anger as you scroll. You try not to linger on these videos for too long, lest they mess up your perfected algorithm, but for some reason, they always find their way back to you.
You don’t know how, or why he would… but you blame Rintaro.
With a huff, you throw your phone back onto the couch and stomp your way into the kitchen, where Rintaro doesn’t even spare you a glance. He merely takes a bite of his sandwich and continues to scroll on TikTok.
“Hey baby,” he says, mouth full of food. “What’s up-“
He’s cut off by you gripping his collar sharply, pulling it taught and pulling him with it. He whimpers and his eyes bug out of his skull, but he doesn’t say anything as you lean down to be face to face with him.
“Listen to me,” you snap, trying not to laugh at the way his puffed cheeks turn up to look at you. “We’re not breaking up.”
“…okay?” He whines a small laugh.
“Listen.” You pull his collar tighter, and he starts to giggle nervously, his cheeks growing bigger as he tries to swallow the bite of food in his mouth around your choking. “If you’re sick of me, take some medicine. If you’re bored of me, go play a video game. If you’re tired of me, take a nap. We’re not breaking up. Not now, not ever, do you understand me?”
He nods around his laughter, trying so hard to weasel free from your gripping of his collar. His hands paw at his plate for a chip to give you, in an attempt to satisfy you, but all you do is click your tongue.
“Do you love me?”
He can’t respond around his laughter.
“I said: DO YOU LOVE ME?!”
Finally, he’s able to nod and choke out a ‘yes,’ bringing the chip to your lips. “Okay,” you whisper menacingly, slowly releasing his collar and taking the chip from his fingers. “I love you too.”
“My throat hurts now,” he pouts.
“I’ll baby you once I’m done fixing my for-you-page,” you promise, kissing his head and leaving the kitchen, leaving him to process what just happened.
-
hehehehehehehe
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kitasuno · 8 months ago
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to be loved is to be known | suna rintarou x reader
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you're in love with suna. you think suna's in love with someone else. he's not.
slight angst, happy endings, and miscommunications atsumu is sexy reader is gn wc: 1481
It is dusk and warm and just barely humid when you realize you don’t know Suna Rintarou at all. 
You know that Suna likes chuupets and volleyball and his dingy digital camera with the cracked screen. His left eye twitches slightly when he lies, he always ties his right shoe before his left, and he keeps forgetting to buy pencil lead despite preferring mechanical pencils over traditional. He likes the rain. Can’t bite into ice cream. Wool scarves over fleece, seven followers on his private Twitter, and is always late because he likes feeding the stray cats in the alley next to the Family Mart with the good sausages. 
What you didn’t know is that Suna Rintarou is in love. You find out from Kita Shinsuke, who tells Aran after practice, a conversation not meant for your ears but gracing them nonetheless as you stand before the entrance to the gymnasium. You feel a dryness in your throat and a sting in your eyes as Kita shares that Suna is not only in love but had confessed to someone. Maybe it’s your divine punishment for eavesdropping. Maybe it’s rotten luck. Because, coincidentally, and horribly so, you’ve been in love with Suna Rintarou ever since you met him. 
So when Suna walks up from behind you, back from the vending machine, and asks you why you’re lingering outside and staring at Kita with that look on your face, you lie. 
“I have a crush on Shinsuke.” You blurt out. 
He blinks. Once. Twice. And stares. 
The longer Suna stares at you under the grey, purplish-pinkish sky with his hands shoved into his pockets and his left eye twitching, you realize you don’t know him at all. Because Suna, in all his indifference and nonchalance, looks hurt. You see something flit beneath his eyes, but you’ve never been good at reading people. So you settle on the idea that it’s something less than betrayal but more than indifference, and you don’t know why your heart’s beating so fast and sinking, pitter pattering and twisting in your stomach. 
You feel sick. 
“You like Kita-san,” He says, and it comes out as a statement, not a question. He blinks a third time, and as the look in his eyes disappears as quickly as it came, you decide you much prefer the hurt or the discomfort or the something over the blank apathy that he’s looking you over with now. “You have a crush on Kita… Shinsuke.” He finishes, and you can’t hear the bitterness in his voice over the shrill of your heart. 
You’ve always liked Suna’s eyes but tonight you like the pavement more, and as you stare a hole into the concrete beneath you, you ignore how your feet are fidgeting and your palms are sweaty and how Rintarou is hovering over you. 
“Mhm,” You squeak, tearing your eyes from the asphalt with the cracks and an ugly pill-bug on the ground. As you look up to grey eyes and dark hair, you wish that loving Suna Rintarou was harder. 
“I’m, uh, I’m going to tell Shinsuke tomorrow.” You say, Shinsuke’s name foreign on your tongue compared to the warmth and honey that Rintarou’s tastes like. I’m in love with you and this is a bad idea, you think. I like you, not Kita, is what you don’t say. Instead, and arguably worse, is the mention of Miya Atsumu’s name. “Atsumu gave me the confidence to confess!” 
Suna pauses. 
“Atsumu told you to?” He asks, and it’s the most bewildered you’ve heard him in a while.
A glance at his phone. Hands that emerge from his pockets. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the concrete you would have seen the twitch of his fingers and the tightening of his jaw as he opens Line. You nod dimly. 
“Okay,” is what he says, and you feel your heart in your stomach again. You look up. “Okay.” He repeats again. 
And maybe it’s the hurt that stings in your chest from Rintarou being so okay with you (hypothetically) being in love with Kita Shinsuke that pushes your eyes to water and your mouth to open. 
“Is that it?” You ask. 
A beat of silence. And then, a scoff. 
“Yeah. Congratulations,” Suna says. “Good luck.” 
As dusk turns to nightfall and what was a barely-humid night in July is now overwhelmingly warm and sickly and hot, Rintarou’s gaze is overbearing. And when your eyes start to swim and Suna’s gaze turns to confusion and then realization, you do the only thing you know how to do. You bolt. 
An incessant string of dings. Your lip wobbles under your teeth as you pull out your phone from under your covers. 
from: miya osamu (21:03)  where the fuck did ya go  and whys suna blwoin up my phone
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:03)  WHYYSS SUNARIN BLOWING UOA PP MY PHONE ??!?@@>>!?>??!??! WHYS HE SAYIN U LIKE KITA-SAN
from: you (21:05) its so over i ran home
from: you (21:05)  i told him i like shinsuke and that i am confessing to kita  tomorrow
amazing perfect miya atsexy and miya osamu are typing…
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:06)  WHAT
from: miya osamu (21:06) r u fuckin stupid why would ya do that
from: you (21:07) i heard shinsuke tell aran that suna confessed to someone today and then rin came back so i told him i like kita bcuz i panicked and also he cant know i like him right as he’s ginna get BAGGED wait but idk if he got rejected or not WHO AM I KIDDING suna would NOT get rejected LOLOL but anyways i think he knows i like him bcuz i started cryig and then he had this look on his face like he knew i was bullshittin him now venmo me money before i kil msyelf 
from: miya osamu (21:12) yeah he was gonna confess to YOU today
from: you (21:12) ?
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:12) HOLY MISCOMMUNICATION
from: you (21:18) Wht??
from: miya osamu (21:19) suna was supposed to confess to u today 
from: you (21:21) but shinsuke said rin already confessed
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) why wiud u ever think about takin gossip from KITA SHINSUKE AN WHYD YA BRING ME UP IM GNNA BE STONED AT DAWN
from: miya osamu (21:22) HOORAY !
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) SHUDDUP  
You bolt, again, but this time it’s out of your bed, down a flight of stairs, and through your front door. You’re halfway down the street near the Family Mart with the Good Sausages™ when you barrell into someone who smells faintly of blackberries and Suna’s laundry detergent. 
“Excuse me,” You blurt, scrambling away, until you feel a grip on your waist and a familiar shape behind you with a familiar smell and a familiar voice, and Ohmygod, you’re out of breath and close to frantic but Suna Rintarou is holding you steady by your waist, warm and tall and here. 
“Rintar-”
“I like you.”
You feel it more than you hear it- Suna is muffled and quiet as he mumbles into the back of your shoulder, tall frame folded into you. 
“Idiot.” He adds, and you don’t have to turn to know the tips of his ears are pink and his eyebrows are furrowed. “You’re an idiot.” 
It’s twilight, and just-barely humid when you realize that Suna Rintarou knows you. 
Suna knows that you ramble when you’re nervous. He knows that you like the rain and you don’t like humidity. You carry extra lead in your pencil pouch and you like volleyball and stray cats. You can bite into your ice cream. You color coordinate your bookshelves. You don’t have a crush on Kita Shinsuke. 
You don’t know that Suna keeps his digital camera with the shitty cracks because you bought it for him from a shop in Akihabara. You don’t know that Suna leaves his packs of pencil lead at home because leaning over your desk in class and seeing that smile on your face is far more fun. You don’t know that he writes with extra pressure on his worksheets to crack his lead and ask for more. 
You didn’t know that Suna Rintarou is in love with you. 
So he grins into your shoulder and tells you.  
amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:14) 1 Attachment GROSS!!!!!! do NOT start making out at practice or i will RESIGN !!!
sunarin (22:14) @ y/n lets start making out at practice
y/n, miya osamu, and 2 others reacted with Thumbs Up! ojiro aran, amazing perfect miya atsexy reacted with Thumbs Down!
from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:15)  @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE 
sunarin has removed amazing perfect miya atsexy from the Inarizaki Volleyball Team Chat. 
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