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[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

Reblog if it's okay to befriend you, ask questions, ask for advice, rant, vent, let something off your chest, or just have a nice chat.

please, please and please.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

Wish there was a part two to this ngl, it was soooooooooo good to read🥰🥰🥰🥰

CHANGE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!VILLAIN!READER

GENRE: ENEMIES TO LOVERS, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, COMFORT

WORD COUNT: 8K

WARNINGS: THEMES OF ABUSE! READER HAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR PARENT THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING! GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES. DOES NOT FOLLOW ATSV PLOT.

AUTHORS NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO TOPICS LIKE ABUSE, FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED. I DID MY BEST TO LEAVE THE DESCRIPTION OF READERS GEAR VAUGE SO THAT YOU CAN IMAGINE WHATEVER YOU'D LIKE BUT READER AT BASELINE HAS FIRE ABILITIES + WINGS, AND A MASK THAT CAN SHOW EXPRESSIONS LIKE A SPIDER-PERSON CAN. HOBIES PERSONALITY IS HEAVILY INSPIRED OFF OF HIS COMICS!

SYNOPSIS: YOURE SUPPOSED TO HATE SPIDERPUNK, BUT…WHEN HES THE ONLY ONE WHO TREATS YOU KINDLY…AND THE ONLY ONE WHO HELPS YOU WHEN THE PERSON YOU SHOULD TRUST BETRAYS YOU, HOW COULD YOU?

-

There was the sound of the city below, and the rushing of wind above, but there was nothing in between. You felt nothing; just coming to and completely delirious. Your head spun as you looked down on London, watching droplets of blood fall from…your body? Were you bleeding? You suddenly became aware of the familiar deep mumbling above your head and the secure arms that held you tightly. You looked down at the red suit and black leather worn by who held you and pieced it all together, albeit slowly; you were in your rival’s arms, bleeding out as he was web slinging through the sky. You groaned, growing privy of injures that you didn't know you had, immediately feeling Hobie’s arms tighten,

“It's okay, you're gonna be okay.” You heard his deep voice faintly, sounding panicked and far away. You squirmed, wincing and crying out,

You couldn't feel your wings.

– 

Spiderman, Spiderpunk, asshole–whatever you wanted to call him—he was a royal pain in your ass. He’d cocoon you inside indestructible webs when he caught your gang in a crime, beeline to you when he was fighting off the group, and web you down whenever he’d catch you lurking on the rooftops at night, leaving the scene slinging away with a sly or flirty remark. At first, you just assumed that he must have sensed weakness in you–not taking you seriously and toying with you for kicks…it could have been true and honestly probably was, but you were ready for a change. You had changed significantly since you and Spiderman first met. He didn’t see you for a very long time while you worked out and trained, touching up your fighting skills, reaction time, and stamina–never slacking off. It didn't take long for you to surpass your once superiors, becoming your Master’s most prized possession. 

Your Master was all you knew for a guardian figure. They called you their ‘Firefly,’ as you had phoenix-like wings and fire based abilities that they were oh so proud of. What you didn’t know, was that they formed your supernatural self, nurturing you in their lab after destroying your genetic makeup until you were ready to be their perfect prodigy, yet they didn't want you taking on their largest mission–killing Spiderman. They told you that they knew about the way he targeted you and took you down with minimal effort and they hated it–not wanting to see you caught in a life-or-death fight with him.

“He may have never hurt you, but if he wants to, he will.”  They would say. You never knew that it was all lies, only hating the idea of your Master looking down on you. 

So you would become Spiderman’s biggest threat–telling yourself it was not to prove a point to them, but to you.

–

You were ready for this city to finally start taking you seriously; buildings emptying at the glow of your fiery wings, blinds closing and light flicking off at the sound of your crackling fire, streets clearing with screams of “Spiderpunk!” and “Help!” You believed today was the day.

The people of London already knew the sight of you meant trouble—often the most eye-catching of your master’s entourage even though you weren’t the most dangerous, but you were rarely seen alone. It was alarming to the citizens who quickly emptied the dark streets. You felt a sense of confidence surge in your chest at the fear in their eyes just from you simply walking, lighting up the streets with a red-orange glow and wildfire-like crackling sounds. You didn’t get very far though, a faint booming guitar chord piercing the air nearby like a firework. You grit the soles of your gear into the ground, securing your mask and looking up to catch Spiderpunk swinging off a tall building, legs spread and hand outstretched in your direction,

“Ay, what do you know?! If it isn't the Firefly all by herself! What do you think you're doing out here, lil phoenix?” His voice quickly gained volume as he swung full speed ahead in your direction, aiming to effortlessly web you up and leave the scene when he neared and took a powerful blow directly to the chin, flying into the wall like a magnet to metal.

He groaned, fallen on the floor and back slammed into the brick wall, “Damn! Where did you learn how to throw a punch like that? Did’ja friends finally decide to teach you the basics?” With squinty spider-suit eyes, he rubbed his jaw, comically ‘fixing’ it back into place before lunging like a jumping spider and tackling you with his arms around your waist. Your back hit the ground with a thud and you quickly kicked your feet up on his stomach and flipped the two of you backwards with your hands on his leather vest. You throw punches and hits with calculated precision and instead of being scared…Spiderpunk is pleasantly surprised at your newfound strength. He finds himself totally up for the challenge of fighting someone ‘worth his time.’ He web slings out from under you, jumping behind a nearby bench to put some distance between the two of you and attempt to apprehend you,

“Come on Spiderpunk, throw a punch! What are you, scared? Didn’t think you’d have to even try to beat me huh? Is that it, asshole?” You yell in frustration, hand clutching the back of the bench and clearing it like a track meet. He backpedals, never once getting violent with you–no hitting, punching or kicking, just strategically tiring you out until he can find an opening and restrain you.

“Come on now, you know this is just anotha cakewalk for your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” He laughs in a sarcastic teasing way to rile you up, ducking to avoid your advances when you unexpectedly lunge at him, your masked heads knocking against each other and sending him falling over into a messy alley. Spiderpunk struggles against you before you slam your fist across his cheek, sending his head left before he cranes it back, grabs your ready fist, and then the other one when you raise it. You're both grunting and panting, his eyes squinty and your arms shaking like an arm wrestle when, eventually, he overpowers you and pushes you off him, wrapping you up like a spider to its prey and having the temerity to dust his hands off after,

“Well, I oughta say, tonight was full of more surprises than I would've ever guessed! Didn’t know you had all that fight in you, Firefly.” He said, casually leaning against the wall across from you with his foot up, wiping his wrist over his masked forehead and feigning exhaustion. Your face scrunched up in anger at the name, reserved for only your Master.

“Don't call me that! I don't need you underestimating me, Spiderpunk, and I don't need your pity–actually fight me next time!” You spit, “I’ll be back for you.” Your ablaze wings tear through the web restrains and you fly away, knowing he’ll let you go. He watched you leave into the night sky, cursing to himself at the throbbing pain in his jaw. He slumped off the wall, web slinging home with a sense of sympathy weighing heavy in his heart,

“Poor thing–all fucked in the head.”

–

Your Master has a long standing history with Spiderpunk. They were once a cop—devoted to their work and truly confident that they were doing the right thing. Then one day, this ‘Spiderman’ came along. He ruined everything; encouraging anarchy, winning the people's hearts and turning the citizens against the officers–but worst of all, he killed their brother who was also in the police force. Nothing was the same since, and they turned to a life of crime, building a force of people who wanted to do anything in their power to stop Spiderman. 

Spiderpunk had directly attacked their old headquarters before, growing more and more familiar with their motives, their methods, and more importantly, their members. There was a new lair now, sneakily hidden from Spiderpunk to keep him from learning more than he already knew.

What he did know was your Master was like a parent in your eyes. He knew you were unable to label anyone else as a guardian in your broken life, but damn it was sick to him. Your Master literally made you address them as such to enforce harsh power dynamics and keep you in your place. They mutilated your genetic code like a lab rat, but you can't remember a thing because you were completely comatose. They wanted to train you until you were strong enough to fight for them, and then do nothing to prevent your death when the foreign chemicals in your body would eventually catch up to you. Worst of all, they don't want you around Spiderpunk because he knows the truth. They do everything in their power to keep you faithful to them because they know you'll be too strong on Spiderman’s side–you'll turn to him without sparing them a second glance if you knew the truth. 

They couldn't let that happen. They wouldn't let that happen. They swore it to themselves everyday.

–

You came quietly through the doors of the lair (which was disguised as just another house in a crowded street) keeping all noise to an absolute minimum to avoid the ‘where were you’ questions from your comrades. You were new to sneaking out, never seeing a point in it before this self-improvement journey of yours. You were lost in thought, walking to your room when a loud slam jumped you. You cursed and looked up to see none other than your Master standing in front of you, staring at you with an intensity that never meant any good, rendering the hallway placate. You looked up at them, fear taking over your bones.

“…Where have you been for the past hour?” Their dour tone sliced through the thick silence. You held eye contact like you've been told,

“I went out to train.” You answered, not the full truth but not a lie either. You looked up at them with a cold-sweat inducing anticipation rattling your knees. The silence was so loud, and your heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

You didn't even register that you had been slapped until you noticed you were no longer looking your Master in the eyes. Your face felt warm, stinging with pain as your eyes welled with tears that you fought back. They said nothing more, leaving you to stand stunned in the hallway for a long moment and then trudge into your room to fall asleep feeling numb. 

–

You knew you must have done something to deserve the punishment of getting slapped and grounded, but you also felt that your Master just didn't understand what you were doing— that you were doing it for them. You were going to help them take down Spiderpunk! You were going to do what they had always wanted! After thinking for a long hour in your room, you decided you just needed to be more sneaky. That way, they couldn't be mad at you in the end when you finally got their worst enemy in the lair, bound up and defenseless. 

Nothing could stop you from training mercilessly for days, readying yourself to fight Spiderpunk again. You lived for the shocked expression on his spider-suit mask when you threw punch after punch at him, taunting him with an attitude that he had never seen from eager but stupid you–you who had failed to even get close enough to attack him in the past. He had wondered why he wasn't seeing you with the usual group for a couple months, almost worried that your Master had done something.

Time passed and the few times you saw Spidepunk, you were with a bigger group. You were no longer the first person he took down, rather the last—he struggled more and more fighting you these days. It had been days since your last 1V1 encounter and night fell—this time, you waited until you were absolutely positive that your Master was asleep before you left out your window, flying into the night with your blazing wings. You knew how Spiderpunk was going to fight you this time, playing a completely defensive game until he saw an opening to take you down, and you were prepared for it–ready to counteract it. You didn't want to leave this battle completely unscathed like last time, you wanted a fair fight.

–

Hobie sat on a distant rooftop, overlooking London in the darkness of the night. He had had a very ‘normal’ day in Spiderpunk terms—help a little old lady across the road, stop a handful of thief’s dumb enough to steal in broad daylight with his spidergang, and graffiti a couple political statements in places that no one else could reach. He chose a rooftop garden area to relax, chewing his bright pink bubblegum and strumming on his guitar with his heavy boots hanging over the ledge.

Hobie thought about you, he thought about Y/N L/N. It was difficult to fight someone who was so misguided, so fixated on a dream that would only hurt them more. He didn’t know what he could do to get to you—to get you comfortable enough with him to even believe a word of what he’s been dying to tell you. Hobie needed to save you from your Master and the twisted ideology they had drilled into every fiber of your being.

He knew no one else would understand why he cared the way he did. Hobie had a soft spot for you and your gang because he knew of the lives that you were all robbed of.

He strummed his sticker-covered guitar to the bridge of ‘Change (In the House of Flies),’ looking down at the bursts of color that his guitar cycled through in time with each chord he played.

There was a fleeting moment of tranquility, then his spidey-senses went wild, a fiery glow seen from behind him. 

Hobie didn’t move—he didn’t even flinch—he just softly finished the song, 

“I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be seein’ you again.” Hobie quipped, getting on his feet and slinging his guitar behind him, turning to face you.

You looked him over—his spiky accessories, his expressive messy spider-suit eyes, his guitar and all its color. You wondered what he could have done to become the center of all your Masters hate. You knew it had to have been pretty significant, even if you didn’t understand it.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Spiderman.” You said, voice muffled through your mask. Now it was Hobie’s turn to take you all in. You had definitely made some augmentations to your gear since he last saw you, he could see how touched up it looked and he started to worry you might catch him off guard this time, so he tested the waters. He circled you slowly and instantly you tensed and out came exactly what he feared—new weaponry.

Fiery blades ignited out of your wrist gear as you put your hands up in a block. Hobie was actually impressed,

“Well would ya look at that! A shiny new weapon, eh? did ya make that all by yourself, lil phoenix?” He inquired, leaning in with typical comical Spiderman enthusiasm. He got too close for comfort, resulting in you swinging your burning blades at him with a grunt. Hobie lurched backwards, making a shocked noise,

“Alright alright, trying to show me what those new blades can do huh? Come on, come get me.” He teased, web-slinging away and starting a chase. Hobie was often chasing, not entirely used to the reverse, but he felt adrenaline pump through his veins at the sound of your yells, chasing him like a rabid animal through the rooftops of London.  

This time, you knew well what he was doing—attempting to tire you out and get you at your weakest without even having to lay a finger on you, then restrain you like last time—so you came to the fight with a couple tricks up your sleeve.

You ducked down into an alleyway, seemingly headfirst, running down the wall and up the next. 

Spiderpunk looked behind him, expecting to see your struggling form desperately trying to keep up with him, only for his heart to stop at the sight of you—or the lack thereof. 

His reflexes came in handy when he saw a faint glow out of his peripherals. He swung from a high-hanging sign when you lunged at him from his side, giving him minimal time to react. He tried to web to another building, but he was too slow. Your fingers closed around his neck, slamming him into the wall, his long fingers instinctively came up to your wrists, only to falter away when he nearly slices his hands clean off on your blades. He instead opts to use his boots to try and kick you away, but blades instantly ignite out of the gear surrounding your ankles,

“You really came prepared huh? Whipped up all this new gear in a matter of days just to see me? You’re so thoughtful.” He grit out, still trying to not harm you if he doesn’t have to. He was in the middle of calculating your next move when you brought your head back like you were going to knock him out with it. Instantly, Hobie ducks down, thrusting his spiky spider-suit mask at your chest and pushing away from you when you flinch and let go of him. 

“Spiderpunk!” You screamed, jumping up and lunging at him, sending artificial webs his way. He rolled and dodged them, yelping in surprise,

“Look at you! I mean, you’re basically a spider woman now!” He shoots his own webs, snagging your ankle and effectively stumping you, if only for a moment when your heated blades sear them off. You angrily throw yourself at him again, falling to the ground when he dodges. Suddenly, a loud crack is heard as your left ankle gear slams against the solid rooftop, buzzing and crackling as it breaks. You hiss and grunt angrily, and Hobie’s brain lights up. He has to break all your new toys to take you down, that’s all. 

Spiderpunk suddenly jumps at you, tackling you onto your back to keep your wings useless and webbing your biceps down, then your thighs—they’re the spots where you have no defense mechanisms, although you’re a lot stronger than he’s used to seeing you so he remains cautious. He grabs hold of your ankle, pressing his palms into the gear and sending electric volts through it—he risks the chance of hurting you, but when he begins to fry the electrical cords and sees only confusion in your eyes, he continues. The gear fizzes and smokes as it breaks, but Hobie feels the shock of it all, wincing and grunting as he get electrocuted. 

Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s doing, and you scream,

“No! No!” You strain against his webs, freeing one arm and swinging your fist at the man, slicing the cheek of his mask only for him to grab your bicep and pin you back down with a struggle, electrocuting himself once more as he kills your right wrists gear with a zap!

You look up at him, paralyzed with confusion as he still refuses to hurt you, only breaking your gear so you’ll run back home again. You won’t take it, breaking free your left fist the very next second and screaming in anger when he pins it down with all the strength he can muster.

"Why are you doing this? Why won't you ever fight me?" You scream emotionally, struggling against him as he uses all the strength he has left to fry your last piece of protective gear while you struggle against him, kicking and pushing to no use. He doesn't speak at first, breathing heavily, and sighing,

“You really wanna know?” He mumbles, looking at you through his mask with squinty eyes, “Or do you just want an answer that will make you happy?” He asks, leaning back and getting off of you completely, but keeping you restrained on the ground.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask, genuinely caught off guard, letting out a scoff, “Dont pull some weird mysterious bullshit with me-”

“I’m serious.” He cuts you off. It doesn't sound harsh or angry, it’s strangely genuine. “The truth hurts–worse than anything I could do to you if I fought back the way you so badly want.” He says through his thick accent, sitting beside you and looking out at the city.

You looked up, knocking your masked head on the hard surface while you thought in angry silence. What could Spiderpunk have to tell you? Why did he think it would matter to you? You hadn't really guessed there was a good reason for why he didn't fight you, just assuming he pitied you. You let your head loll to the side and looked at the spikey masked man with dark skin peeking through the cut you left in his mask, your curiosity winning,

“I…I’m all ears.” You mumble, your voice hoarse. 

He just looked at you for a moment, then he cursed and ran his large palm down his covered face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't know what to say or how to say it. How do you tell someone their whole life is a lie? Furthermore, they're fighting for a cause that will end in their demise? He gazed off into the sparkling lights below,

“It’s not easy to say so i’m just gonna tell you as bluntly as possible. I’ve known that lousy sod you call ‘Master’ for years now…they’re not at all who you think they are.” He starts, missing the way your body stiffens, “And…neither are you. They actually…made you what you are. You weren't supposed to have the abilities you have but they-”

“No, no I'm not listening to this, this is useless! You're full of shit!” You spat, arching your back enough to set your wings free, cutting through the webs, triggering him to jump up and put his palms out defensively,

“Hey, hey! You said you were all ears right? Don't go throwin’ a wobbly on me now! Just listen okay? I’m trying to save your life!” He frantically begged, walking towards you slowly with bent knees and a tilt of his head, trying his absolute hardest to not come across as a threat. You weren’t having it.

You got close, “You can go to hell with your weird conspiracies about my Master and I! I-I’ll never believe you—you don’t even know me!” You yelled your fists up defensively. You felt weak and angry with your gear useless, and you didn’t exactly expect a deep discussion about your life and what it might or might not be,

“I do though, Y/N. That’s…that’s what I’m trying to get at here.” He states, not once taking his eyes off you. He watches as your eyes flicker wide open, your guard faltering for only a moment. You stand there stunned, the silence of midnight surrounding both of you, until you finally have the courage to speak up,

“Is…that how you know my name?” You state the obvious. You know the answer, but you want him to be the one to say it.

“Yes, because what i’m telling you is the truth. Your Master, they used to be an officer until I came around and fought against the police force…one day, there was an attack from a villain force and I couldn’t save their closest friend…but from what they saw, it looked as though their blood was on my hands. They changed overnight—quitting the force and becoming the worst villain overlord of this city. They built their own empire, and they bought you. You and the rest of their army, you’re all captives who were brainwashed and robbed of your lives.” He finishes, full of anticipation as he looks at you.

There’s a long silence, as you take it all in. You don’t know what to say to do for a while, internally struggling on if you even believe his words or not…but the longer you think about it…you’re sad to admit the more sense it starts to make.

You don’t remember having any sort of childhood, no matter how hard you thought, and you’ve only ever known your Master and their orders on how you should live your life. You were lost in thought, puzzle pieces slowly fitting together, and Spiderpunk just watched you patiently. You thought about how he looked at you, how he refused to hurt you, and how he seemed to genuinely mean every word he said…It was too much to take in all at once.

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t.” You stammer out, your voice cracking as you back up.  Your wings crackle with burning fire. He doesn’t follow you, just stands still as you walk backwards, then turn and fly off. The wind whistles as you fly home faster than you ever have in your life, your thoughts racing a mile a minute with every flap of your wings. Hobie watches you fly off into the sparkly night sky like a burning shooting star, sighing in relief. 

—

That night opened your eyes, and nothing was the same between you and your Master since. You pulled back and unintentionally started acting cold, now you were afraid they were noticing. They had been randomly gifting you things or spending time with you, a lot more than they ever do. You were starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable and anxious as the days went on, and strangely, you decided you wanted to clear some things up with Spiderpunk—you just needed to find a way to sneak out without your Master noticing with all their excessive hovering over you these days.

It was dawn, and you had just finished the dinner that they insisted you have with them. Your Master had finished eating and was now cleaning both your dishes when you quietly headed to the door and slipped on your jacket,

“Going somewhere?” They asked questioningly, not turning from their spot at the sink but still instilling nausea in you from their tone alone. You hesitated for a second, then slipped on your shoes,

“Just going on a walk.” 

“Right after eating? Shouldn’t you give it an hour or two?” They pressured.

“I’d rather walk while it’s still relatively light out, I won’t be gone long.” You countered carefully, trying to keep the peace the best you could. You reached for the door handle, your back turned to them when you heard the water shut off, footsteps, and then felt their arms around you, turning you into their embrace. It was uncomfortably silent, and their hands suddenly tightening on your jacket felt horrible,

“I know you’ve been lying to me.” They murmured, their grip strong as they feel your body go rigid for a moment. You stall. They release you and stare coldy,

“I-I don’t know what you’re-“ The hardest slap you’ve ever felt lands across your face and cuts you off. It burns like hell and leaves your head blank for a moment. You look down only to get your eyes forced upwards from a pressuring grip on your jaw,

“You know you can’t keep secrets from me…I will figure out what you’ve been doing, my Firefly, and you won’t like it.” They grumbled, pushing you outside and slamming the door.

—

There had to be at least five cops chasing after as you careened around the block, all having yelled at you when you raced out of a small jewelry store with hands full of anything shiny and expensive looking that you could loop around your fingers. You zoomed down the dark street and caught a myriad of unfortunate obstacles ablaze in your wake. You were trying to cause as much of a scene as humanly possible—It was working.

You turned to look behind your shoulder right as Spiderpunk swung down towards you, one hand high above his head and the other swinging a web straight for your abdomen. When you were about to redirect your focus ahead of you, you’re left with no time to process your masked ‘rival’ headed straight for you before pulling you up into the sky with him. A scream tears out of your throat from shock and you can’t move as your body is pulled through the sky, golden rings and necklaces spilling from your fingers. The loud hollering of Spiderpunk is echoing around you before he pulls you onto a rooftop, both of you rolling onto the building. He grunts and pants, looking at you as he lays on his side, propped up on his elbow,

“How’s my favorite little villain doin huh? Long time no see…I was starting to miss your pretty mask.” He pulled you towards him by his webs like Scorpion, before tearing it when you were close enough, “Was there a reason you caused such a dilemma down there or did ya just miss me?” He smirks, pretending to run a hand through his hair. He was clearly in a good mood today.

You sigh, full of emotions and slightly bothered by his over-the-top entrance and flirty behavior, “There’s a reason, asshole…I need to talk to you.” You confess, sitting up in a comfortable position while he mirrors you, leaning his head in his hands. He stays silent and only nods, allowing you to continue, 

“I thought about what you said—all of it. Things weren’t the same when I woke up that next morning. I still don’t trust you but I don’t really hate you the way I used to…because of what you said I sorta started to think for myself. I came to see you today to ask you a couple of questions and maybe get some answers?” You whispered, voice soft as you looked into his masked face. The moonlit night was cold and dark. It left you shivering with a sense of anxiety squeezing at your lungs. He nodded once more, leaning in,

“What can your friendly neighborhood spiderman do for you?” He asked with an audible smiled, trying to ease your obvious distress.

“Who was I?” You blurted out.

He shuddered, expecting the question but still feeling underprepared for it. He exhaled through a buzz of his lips and clicked his tongue a couple of times,

“That’s a difficult question, doll. To put it simply, you’re a normal girl who was supposed to live a normal life with her normal parents—they were some of the many that were killed by the multiple heinous villains that terrorized London a few years ago. You weren’t too much younger than me when you were forced into a hostage situation by the killers, soon after you were sold. I couldn’t save you all before the brainwashing, and I couldn’t get to you like this until…now.” He admitted. He felt sympathy knowing that you were sitting in front of him, probably feeling as though you were suffering the consequences of his incompetence—but the thought never crossed your mind. You just wished you knew that girl, the one who was robbed of her normal life, but you felt that moping was useless, 

“Well, what can I do? I mean i’ve basically learned that my whole life isn’t at all what I think it has been and i’ve been chasing after the one person who was kind enough to tell me the truth-“

“You didn’t know any better.” He corrected, “I tried to go easy on you…couldn’t bring myself to fight such a sweet, misguided, girl.” He admitted genuinely.

“I am so stunned…I mean I never thought you’d be able to be this close or say these things to me without attacking you.” You teased, looking at the way his eyes scrunch up and his knees come close in a laugh, “I…I don’t know how to thank you. All I’ve done has been attacking you every chance I got because my Master painted you out to be some threat. I never thought for myself until you told me the truth, and now you’re being so nice to me, Spiderpunk.” You sighed.

Suddenly, he shifted before reaching his hands up to his neck and pulling his mask off, revealing his identity to you. The newly unmasked Spiderpunk shook his hair slightly, and looked at your still masked face as you took in every detail of him. He had deep brown skin, messy wicks, plump lips, a big nose with a ring on the side, deep set eyes complimented with pierced eyebrows and high cheekbones. He had the face of a model and it was no surprise that that effected your ability to breathe for a moment,

“You can call me Hobie.” He said with a cheeky tone at your silence, leaning back, “And you don’t have to thank me, just glad I could help.” He answered. He looked at you solemnly, his heart warming at the idea of helping you. “But you can at least make us equal and share a taste of your secret identity.” He winks, leaning in eagerly.

You roll your eyes and trail your hands up to your own mask, removing it and watching as his eyes scan you in the low lighting, taking in your appearance. You expected something different than what you got, your stomach dropping at the sudden look of shock on his face. You felt anxiety well up in a matter of seconds before he speaks,

“Who did this?” His deep voice lingers in the air and you’re left with no time to process his words, his hands that were reaching for you stuttering when you flinch, “Y/N, who hurt you?” He asks you, stern but gentle, looking into your eyes with his large hands gently on either side of your head to examine the red blistering slap mark. You can’t even respond, your mouth open but no words coming out. You both know the answer. 

Hobie knew there was a possibility your Master was hurting you, but this just confirmed it and left him feeling inexplicably enraged. 

“I’m sorry, I-“ 

“Why are you apologizing? You have no reason to be sorry, If I had known I…I would have stopped this a lot sooner.” He whispered, gaze soft as he instinctively holds your head to his chest, almost motherly. 

You just try to focus on stabilizing your breathing, the comforting hold new and strange to you. You never would have expected this, that’s for sure.

Time goes by, Hobie allowing you to sit in front of him again while you eventually talk about your relationship with your Master. It’s difficult, and Hobie has to thank his lucky stars for his ability to remain expressionless, because if not, he probably would have cried or thrown up several times. It becomes emotional for you as you wrap up, Hobie feeling his gut twist at the sight,

“It’s alright. I-I’m not going to let you be in that place much longer. I’m going to stop them okay? I’ll be helping you out of there soon.” He spoke clearly, his hands on your shoulders to keep steady eye contact. You felt uneasy at the idea of your Master and your unsteady relationship. You didn’t want to see them hurt but you knew that how they had treated you all these years was wrong, especially if what Hobie said was true. It was conflicting, and you were scared. You tried your hardest to trust Hobie, but you had only just opened up to him…so could you really? Was it safe?

“Okay…bye, Hobie’.” Was all you said before you parted, disappearing into the dark of the night. Hobie plotted, swinging far behind after a lot of careful thought and a ton of unusual hyperactivity from his spidey-senses.

—

The door creaked louder than it usually does—just your luck. You cursed as you held the handle all the way twisted until it was in the frame, manually twisting it back into place to keep the house silent. You were on a mission, and it couldn’t wait. You walked your way into the basement and into your Master’s secret laboratory. This was where they kept all of their ‘work stuff.’ You had never cared about anything in the dingy and dark room until now…you never knew any of it would pertain to you. You sifted though their stuff, everything seemingly kosher until a file, stuffed in the back of the lowest cabinet of their desk with the bold printed letters ‘Y/N L/N’ splattered over it in red ink called to you among all the other tan files. You wasted zero time in pulling it out and investigating. The file was full of information about you—things that you didn’t even know about yourself; the day you were bought, the chemical makeup of your fucked-up genes, and the day that you were…no…that couldn’t be right…the day that you were supposed to die? Your heart stopped. You read the date over and over again, adrenaline rushing through your body and pumping blood straight to your head. You couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see, couldn’t think. Your Master horrifyingly lingered in the doorway, watching as you trembled in unbridled terror. Why the fuck did you have a pre-determined death date? You tore your gaze off the paper, looking up and jumping when you saw, to you absolute dismay, your ‘Master.’ 

“Y/N. I’ve heard that you made a new friend! Is that right, my little Firefly?” Your master seethed through their sickening smile. You had never seen them this angry…it terrified you, but your adrenaline was stronger than your fear.

“I know who you are…and…I know who I am. You’re a sick person, and you’ve been lying to me my whole life!” You yelled, defensively staring them down with as fierce of a face as you could muster, “You destroyed the person that I’m supposed to be! You bought me out of a hostage situation to build your own suck army! Worst of all, you have a predetermined death date for me? What the fuck do I look like, perishable goods?” You scream.

“Quit acting dumb, child. If you were smart enough to understand maybe you wouldn’t be so angry at your loving Master. I did what I did to give you a life worth living. I made you who I made you at the cost of your life span shortening. Would you rather live a long, boring, and sad life with no parents and no purpose? Or would you rather life a fulfilling life with me?” They spat, anger present in their red eyes.

“I would rather die than live with you any longer. Spiderpunk told me the truth and I believed him because it makes sense! He was the first person to ever let me think for myself! He has never hurt me the way that you have!” Screaming, you threw the file onto the ground, the contents spilling out at your Master’s feet and your wings burning hot. Embers flicked across the room, catching small things on fire. Your Master had had enough.

“Is that so? And what exactly do you intend on doing with that information, hm? Run away from the loving,“ they flip the desk as it begins to burn, sending wood and fire all over as they come closer, “supportive,” they slam their fist into your side and kick your feet out from under you, “family that I’ve pioneered for you? You’d leave that all behind to follow a brain-dead, arachnid, anarchist who killed my loved ones?!” They scream, pulling you by your wrist out of the office and into the basement, shoving you down onto your stomach and crawling onto of you harshly. Your wings were as intense as your emotions—your horror, sadness, and anger all causing the flames to burn unusually hot and wildly—but your Master didn’t care. All they saw was red.

“You know what happens when you go against my rules, Y/N. How dare you do the one thing I specifically instructed you against.” They snapped, tears pooling out of your eyes as you struggled to breathe. Your eyes shot open as you heard their hisses in pain and felt their hands tighten around the base of your blazing wings. Your heart raced as fire embers flung around the room and you felt a sharp tugging, triggering you into screaming uncontrollably,

“No! No! Please, stop it! Master, I’m sorry! please d-don’t! What are you doing?! I’m-I’m sorry, please!” You screamed, feeling the extension of your body being torn out of your spine, uselessly screaming in agony. You were kicking and crying as you felt the most uncomfortable pain you had ever felt in your life. You were helpless, the room around you catching on fire as your powers go haywire. You didn’t know who to call, but the one name you knew started spilling from your lips,

“Hobie! Hobie please help me!” You cried, voice cracking and hoarse as the building rapidly started to burn. Your master brought their heel up digging it into your lower back as leverage as they grunted and pulled, fueled on your screams alone. You let out one last scream of Hobie’s name before it all faded to black.

—

Hobie had no idea where he should be looking for you, never having located your Master’s new hideout. He relied completely on his senses, a game of ‘hotter’ and ‘colder.’ He raced around like a madman, ignoring the excited screams of “It’s spiderpunk!” However, soon the screams became about a fire, and his senses were overwhelmed with a buzzing feeling. He snapped out of it and looked down to see a house on fire, mentally battling on if he should continue searching for you or deal with the house fire, opting for the latter. When he Hobie leapt down, he got a sinking feeling that he had found you. 

He tore through the burning building, groups of familiar villains racing out of the doors and windows. He kept low and crawled like a spider when he heard a broken scream of his name, so pained and so desperate. He nearly tripped down the burning basement stairs and took in the horrific scenery. 

Your blood was all over the floor, surrounding (what Hobie prayed was) your unconscious body. Your Master was panting, and holding your bloody, fleshy, wings. They had never looked this truly evil, staring down at you with no remorse until they noticed Hobie’s presence,

“Spiderpunk.” They stated, tossing your wings into the calmed with burning with rage,

 “I think it’s time for our long overdue last dance, ‘Master.’” Hobie grumbled, circling them. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” They smiled, chucking a knife from their belt at his head, watching as he expertly dodges it and maneuvers around the collapsing room combating with bloodshed heavy on his mind. There’s a symphony of punches and stabs, Hobie was growing bloody and angry. He was kicked into the fire his face whacking across a burning plank and causing him to cry out. Hobie shook his head and screamed, lunging at them, 

“I’m gonna make you wish you never payed your hands on her.” Hobie grunted, his grip tightening around their throat as they desperately tried to pull him off. All Hobie could think about was what he could have done to save you all these years; if he had known the torture you were enduring at their hands he would have helped you sooner. He knew the whole time that it was doomed, but he didn’t know how to save you. 

Hobie felt a crunch, and he snapped out of it, finding himself on top of your Masters now dead body. he pulled his hands back, wiping them off on his jeans and spitting down on the corpse of your abuser. Turning rapidly to scoop you into his arms and burst out of the burning building. The fire department was there, and ready to take care of it, but Hobie needed to get you as far away as possible.

—

There was the sound of the city below, and the rushing of wind above, but there was nothing in between. You felt nothing; just coming to and completely delirious. Your head spun as you looked down on London, watching droplets of blood fall from…your body? Were you bleeding? You suddenly became aware of the familiar deep mumbling above your head and the secure arms that held you tightly. You looked down at the red suit and black leather worn by who held you and pieced it all together, albeit slowly; you were in your rival’s arms, bleeding out as he was web slinging through the sky. You groaned, growing privy of the injures that you didn't know you had, immediately feeling Hobie’s arms tighten,

“It's okay, you're gonna be okay.” You heard his deep voice faintly, sounding panicked and far away. You squirmed, wincing and crying out,

You couldn't feel your wings—and it all came back to you. Your ‘Master’ had pulled them completely out of your body, and now you had never felt so light in your entire life. There were gaping holes in your back, and cuts that littered your skin from your struggle. You felt robbed, but oddly, you felt free. However, nothing could compare to, above all, how much pain you were in. You clung to Hobie, becoming aware that you’d have no way to support yourself if you were to fall, but Hobie held you tightly, telling you he would never drop you without saying a single word. 

He landed somewhere unfamiliar, carrying you through a window with an odd amount of calculated grace. He set you down on what you assumed was his carpet, and you didn’t realize he was currently in front of you, helping you onto your stomach. You took his hand and allowed him to help you, gasping and whimpering when your entire body hurt.

“Easy, love, m’gonna take care of ya.” He whispers. He tears your shirt clean off, beginning to clean your wounds,

“Ah! Hobie!” You mumble, wincing.

“I know, I know, it’s gonna hurt love m’sorry.” He says in the most soothing voice he can.

He bandaged your cuts, and he feels his heart sink with every pained noise you make, watching you fiddle with his carpet to take your mind off of how it all feels. When he’s finished, he slips a clean shirt over you and he scoops you up—laying you down on his soft couch.

“Your wounds are deep love, but they’re not unsalvageable. Give it time and you’ll be feeling as good as new.”  Hobie smiled softly. He was covered in blood, ash, and grime, but no one had ever looked as beautiful as he did in that moment. He pulled the blanket off the back of his couch, draping in over you and tucking it in gently,

“I am truly sorry for everything, doll.” He said suddenly with raw emotion taking over. You looked up at him confused,

“Don’t…don’t be sorry, Hobie. You…you saved my life.” You murmured, exhausted and pained. 

He softly smiled at you, his eyes full of sadness as he forced himself to get up off his knees by your side,

“Well, i’ll be in the other room love, just holler if you-“ 

“Wait!” You interrupt. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you with confusion present on his face, scanning over you and taking note of the space you made in front of you on the couch,

“I don’t want to be alone.” 

And with that, Hobie feels his heart break. Your voice sounded so fragile and meek, and he never wanted to hear it sound that way ever again. He would feel horrible holding you in his state, but he would feel worse if he said no to you. Reluctantly, he walks over to you, unties his shoes, and lays down with you, holding you close and gently running his hands up and down the bandages.

You didn’t understand how your whole life could change in a matter of days—going from hating Spiderpunk with every fiber of your being, to being genuinely afraid of him not being in the same room as you. But…he’s the one who saved you. This whole time, he was the only one who truly cared, and you felt so blind to have not seen it. He held you closer, lost deeply in his own thoughts. Hobie’s mind raced with thoughts of your safety, and specifically the death date in your files. 

He decided he would worry about that another day, and for now, he would hold you closer.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

Seeing you in a wedding dress for the First time

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairing: Suna x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Format: Scenario

Warnings: None,just fluff :)

Word count: 0.8K

A/n: Been day dreaming about this scenario from the moment I was born. Not proofread

Oikawa Version

You weren't surprised when your best friend A.K.A Osamu's girlfriend asked you to try her sister's wedding dress on,since your bodies were the same size and much alike.Her sister lived abroad an wanted to buy a dress from her home country,and thats why they needed your help.

But you were surprised when you found yourself looking into the mirror,looking Enchanting in that pretty,white dress.That dress was magical,signalizing every curve of your body in an Elegant way.

your friend seemed to be amazed too " well damn y/n! wanted to buy that for my sister but now im having doubts.maybe you should wear it instead of her.

you rolled your eyes at her,nervously chuckling as you observe yourself in the mirror for the thousandth time. "dont be ridiculous. your sister is way more attractive than i am,thats why shes getting married before me.im sure she'll look stunning when she wears it"

it was your friend's turn to roll her eyes now. "here we go again! why are you so insecure,bitch? wait till Suna gets here then see his reaction yourself" "yeah not happening,im going to change right n-"

you were caught off gaurd when your boyfriend and the younger twin suddenly opened the door of your apartment and came inside. "babe,do you have co-" Suna started talking,but went silent after he laid his eyes on you.

and suddenly the whole room was filled with a deadly silence.

Suna forgot why he came here.he forgot where he was,who else was here and what were they doing.all he could see was you,standing still, looking like a goddess.your dress was calling him in,telling him to come closer and merge his lips with yours.

your face,your eyes,your lips,your body...

breath taking.

you were nervous.youve been dating him for four years.sure! you wanted to take a step forward,but not like this.you didnt want to push him.and why was he still quiet anyway? why wasn't he saying anything? why wasnt he panicking like y-"

all of your thoughts got interrupted when you suddenly felt his lips being smashed to yours,tasting every cure of them,not wanting to let go.you were shocked,eyes widened,taken aback from receiving affection at this unexpected moment.

and ashamed of course.

you broke the kiss,shying away from him as you tried to hide your embarrassment by burying your face in his chest,surprised to feel his heart,racing so fast.was he...?

"R-Rin! i told you not to do it in front of your friends!" you whined as redness started spreading through your face,finding its way to your heated cheeks.He on the other hand,did not seem to be paying attention to your words.he was too fixated on how amazing you looks rather than caring about that right now.he was thirsty for you,and needed to taste you now.

therefore,he decided to ignore others presence as he lifted you up without warning,carring you princess way as he took the direction to the bedroom and smirked at your embarrassed reaction. "Rin! what are you- put me down! Rin!"

Osamu watched his friend clothing the door behind him with his foot, and chuckled as he laid his eyes on his girlfriend,who seemes to be enjoying the sight in front if her.He leaned toward her,putting his arm around her shoulder as he planted a small peck on her left cheek. "c'mon babe,lets give em some privacy,hm?" "ok..." your friend giggled,and grabbed her purse as she held her boyfriends hand,pressing it softly while closing the door behind her.

"ya know,maybe ya could borrow that dress from y/n afterwards... 'think it would look good on ya too" "no way Samu! thats my sisters wedding dress!" "well,not after tonight"

he had a point though; he knew Rin for a long time,after all.

Bonus:

◆You did gave your friend the dress back,but your friend noticed a strong scent of laundry detergent that was not there before

◆Rintarou couldnt wait for the ring he specially ordered for you to be ready.the idea of proposing had been on his mind for quite a time,but after seeing you in a wedding dress? boy is in a hurry.he cant wait to make you his ;)

◆after that night,youre subconsciously waiting for him to bring the topic of marriage on,and he did notice this in your behaviour

◆He did "it" eventually :)

ok this is kinda self-insert,i guess.i mean thats what i could do if i was in that position...

reblogs,likes,comments or any type of interactions are wildly appreciated :D hehe

Hope you enjoy reading this!

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

suna rintarou is being a lazy fuck…

suna who won't even bother to make as much of a move or move a muscle, except to pull you onto his lap, hands resting on your waist.

anything further is too much of a hustle, with you straddling him, his grip on your waist firm and heavy, he won't do as much of a movement– except for an eye roll maybe, and to tell you, if you want anything more, you're gonna have to do it yourself.

fine, so be it, at least this way, you have the control, in charge of the pacing, the force, when you want to keep going or rest. plus, the whole orgasm denial and overstimulation have been a bit too much lately.

despite the disinterested tone and behavior suna displays, he still expects you to huff and puff, maybe mutter something under your breath 'jackass' and yet, dive in for his neck, or at the very least chest.

what he gets is your hands on his shoulders, not even gripping his tshirt like you usually do, and begin to move on his lap slowly. as if he isn't there, as if he's only present for your pleasure, inanimate, just a fuck, a one time thing and not the boyfriend who fucks you so good to the point of exhaustion and makes love to you until there are genuine tears in your eyes.

he cannot blame you though, you know exactly what you're doing— both with your body and this game you're playing, making him get a taste of himself, and the way you move against him is so intoxicating, suna feels his hands beginning to twitch at your sides, wanting nothing more than to rip your clothes apart and he has half a mind to not do all of those at once, more or less in a frenzy.

instead, he lies back as much as he can, you in full view, chest moving, head tilted back, pleasure slowly building up from within you yet not quite enough. grinding clothed doesn't do much without anything else to go with it, a kiss or alcohol in the system, that is.

sinking his fingers into your flesh a little, and drawing you out of your hazy little headspace in the process, suna guides your body to the pacing you've set, just helping you apply a little pressure. moving his hips upwards to meet yours, he can hear your breathing starting to change, little by little.

what a sight you make, using his body to pleasure yourself even when he is being a difficult, uninterested boyfriend; deciding to take matters into your hands, because fuck him, right?

he knows, you probably would, if there weren't any noisy layers inbetween, another matter entirely to take off, too much work, you must've known already he would be too lazy for it too.

well, you're in luck, he thinks to himself as a hand goes up to hold your chin, bringing your face to himself and tilting your head to the side, his warm breath fawning over your neck as your eyes close at the minimal contact. suna rintarou is not feeling the slightest bit of lazy right now.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

cw: gn!reader, making out, basically calling suna “scaramouche” (can u tell I play genshin lol)

Heated makeout, about to turn into something more, and as Suna sinks his teeth into a tender spot, you moan a name that is surely not his.

He pulls back before you can even realize, glaring, ignoring the lovely whines leaving your mouth.

“You did not just call me the name of that annoying video game character. You really want a bunch of lines fucking you instead?”

He doesn’t sound pissed, it is rather ridiculous, he wished he could’ve recorded this for later use.

All the meanwhile you just stare, blink at him, mind still too hazy, instincts overspeaking logic. “Rin,” you say his name in a whine, “just quit foolin’ around and fuck me already.” Hands grabbing his and bringing them to your chest, to your legs, but to no avail.

Suna Rintarou looks into your eyes in that stoic expression you’ve come to love and hate. “Why don’t you go ask Scara for it? Since you seem to think of him more than me.” At his words, realization seems to dawn on you as your eyes widen at the name.

Maybe he has been neglecting you lately, not being as good of a boyfriend, not tending to all your and your body’s needs. Well, better late than never, he thinks as your squeals of trying to explain the situation to him become background music.

The hands you brought to rest on you quickly sets into motion, your stumbled words of embarrassment replaced with a moan as you feel a hand between your legs, starting to play with you.

Lips finding your pulse, he grins at the sounds you begin to make after such small contact. “Guess I’ll have to fuck you until you remember only my name.”

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

#THE MATCHMAKER | 20% EXPIRATION DATES!

in a controlled society where all intimate relationships are based on a dating app, two individuals learn the tips and tricks of earning love scores to become New Tokyo’s match made in heaven (or not)

pairings :: suna rintarou, fem!reader (feat. kageyema tobio)

genre :: angst, dating simulation, cyberpunk au, 18+

tags and warnings :: profanity, explicit smut, hookup culture, ooc

series masterlist :: next

They said joining ParagonLove™ for the first time could have you end up on two things: 1) you would either meet your soulmate right off the bat or 2) you would be forced to match with an insufferable person knowing that the relationship would fail, anyway.  

Based on the voice recording he had posted, it was obvious that Rintarou Suna was leaning more on the latter. He was crystal clear about his intentions and there was not an inch of you that hoped for him to actually try and do things that could advance your relationship to the next level. Awesome. While holding back a sigh, you pressed your index finger onto the tiny button on your smartwatch to switch off the hologram. This was a waste of time, indeed. You figured that you have had enough of knowing more about your new match because you were quite certain that learning deeper into that guy’s personal life would only bring you disappointment. 

Ever since the war was over, society had collapsed and the government had failed to save its people from the aftereffects of warfare. Corporations took over and rebuilt the country from ground zero. Hence, Japan, which was once led by an emperor and a prime minister, was now run by one of the biggest and most advanced multinational conglomerates in the world—The Paragon Industries.

Paragon and all of its creations had become so ubiquitous that no citizen of Japan would claim to have no knowledge about the company. With many subsidiaries to their name, they manage everything you could think of. Food, fuel, pharmaceuticals, arms, and technology. Name it. Paragon was everywhere.

And it has been 5 years since Paragon launched one of its many technological innovations called the ParagonLove™; a dating simulation app where people between the age of 21 to 35 can either sign up or be randomly selected to form a match with complete strangers across the country (also very clearly a way for Paragon to control its people, but no one would ever dare say it out loud). You had already memorized the ads about this app that they kept playing all over the city—from LED billboards to radio stations, they use the same scripts, the same footage, and the same taglines to make the whole thing a lot more dramatic and believable. You could almost hear this one celebrity’s voice as you played her advertisement in your head.

“Tired of inharmonious relationships that only lead to breakups? Tired of feeling unwanted and lonely? Whether you’ve had a long dating history or have been single since birth, finding your soulmate has never been easier! Introducing ParagonLove™, where you are now just one step closer to meeting your perfect match. With ParagonLove™, you’ll never have to go through heartbreak ever again. We carefully select your match based on your likes and dislikes, guide you with our extensive mood indicators to help you and your partner understand each other’s wants and needs, and provide you with our exclusive lodging together with your fellow Testers in our beautiful community at the heart of New Tokyo. Sign up now for more information!”

Ever seen or heard false advertisements before? That, without a doubt, was the epitome of it. The app didn’t do pretty well in the first six months with only a handful of people taking their chances at joining, so Paragon announced that anyone within their target demographic could be randomly selected to pick up their own ‘lovechip’ as part of their annual clearance. ‘ParagonLove™ is aiming to build a harmonious society’, they said. ‘You are part of the rebel forces if you don’t join’, they said. Since when has joining a dating app become such a big deal that you would get labeled as a rebel if you choose not to sign up? 

Well, you weren’t one to speak because you were part of the minority who chose to enter the simulation autonomously. Others had no choice because they were chosen. Some receive their first match as soon as they turn 21. Some, in their late-twenties. Some, still waiting for their first match to come. Yours happened on your 23rd—the year when you finally received your first ever match after you had finally decided to give the program a shot. Part of joining the simulation basically means that you would have to leave your hometown behind and travel to New Tokyo where you would be obliged to live in an enclosed community to work on your love scores with your partner. The limit was two hundred couples a year, so that should be four hundred people living in the same village stuck inside what seemed like a real-life dating simulation game. 

The thought of it alone was nerve-racking because it was only natural to be flooded by thoughts of what ifs and what nots while living with a complete stranger who was also simply forced to be in a relationship with you. You could easily know more about each other by browsing through your partner’s information on the app, but that still doesn’t mean that their every conscious thought would be transparent to you. You would have mood indicators to let you know how your partner is feeling, you would have guides on which necessary actions to choose when dealing with an interaction, you are basically living in a simulation like a bunch of A.I.’s getting into all of these relationships, and yet it would be difficult to know that your partner may only be doing things for the sake of improving your love score, especially when Rintarou Suna, in his most candid and descriptive introductory message, said that this whole ‘dating shit is pointless’. 

Part of you agreed to him. The other part just didn’t give a damn. 

Why? It wasn’t because you had similar views nor experiences. It was because the reason you even joined the program in the first place was because of a certain someone who had been chosen to enter the simulation not less than a year ago. 

“Are you scared to know that he might’ve fallen in love with someone else?” asked Summer, your next-door neighbor and childhood best friend who had decided to sign up on the program at the same time as you because she didn’t want to be left behind in a rural prefecture living with old people. She was sitting across from you with a tablet and a cup of iced americano, peeking at your face ever so slightly before she flipped the pages of her favorite shoujo manga.

For a moment, you stared at the scenic view outside the bullet train and chewed on your inner cheek in deep thought. There was only one person she was referring to. One person who was deeply “That’s not possible,” you claimed after a minute of rumination, keeping your expression as firm as possible. “He promised me he wasn’t going to try and make things work with any of them until he gets released from the program.”

Summer’s lips formed an upward curve. The sarcastic kind. “If you trust him that much, then why couldn’t you just wait back home?” she pointed out, “Besides, is it even possible to get released? Once you’re in, there’s no way out.” 

It was a deadend. You knew that, but you didn’t want to think of it. 

“Look, I trust him, okay?” you replied, defensively. “I know we haven't communicated for over a year ever since he entered the program, but… I trust him. I know in my heart that he’s sticking by his promise that he won’t fall in love with another person. The only reason I joined is because… there could be a huge chance that Tobio and I will be each other’s perfect match as soon as I enter the simulation. The system will recognize how compatible we are and we’ll end up being paired sooner or later.” 

Your best friend suppressed her chuckle as though she had heard the most asinine claim ever. “Babe, you know I love you, but,” she paused, putting her tablet down, “we both know how utterly foolish that is.” 

“Then, laugh all you want.” You rolled your eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Staring outside the window was better than to receive your best friend’s judgemental gaze, anyway. 

From her reflection on the glossy window, you saw Summer playfully raising her hands in surrender. “Chill, jeez. But for real, though. You’re just gonna use the people you’ll match with until you’re eventually paired with Kageyama?” 

Shrugging, you answered, “I guess so.” 

“You’re evil.” She chuckled. “But same. I hope Suna, or whatever his name is, won't get his feelings hurt.”

“The dude wants out of the program. He said it himself,” you said, remembering the guy’s voice recording, “Guess him and I can use each other, then.”

Two hours on this train ride was getting more and more unbearable, but looking at the view made you realize that you were already nearing the capital city. From what seemed to be an endless stretch of cornfields, scattered in hues of gold under the aureate horizon was soon replaced by the complete void of darkness as the bullet train entered a tunnel. You could barely make out the graffiti on the concrete walls as the train accelerated and passed nothing but an enclosed wall that nearly made you claustrophobic because of how long the tunnel was. 

Passing the tunnel probably took half an hour or so. 

And outside that passageway was a whole new world filled with neon signages and huge holographic screens that emit saturated tones of blue, purple, and pink. The famous A.I. of Paragon, Polly, appeared from the window and spoke in her robotic yet feminine voice saying, “Welcome! You have now arrived in New Tokyo.”

To your left, you saw Summer grinning at the sight. “It’s like a different dimension out here.” 

It was, truthfully, a whole new world out there. You hadn’t been to New Tokyo before and although people have told you that there were parts of the city that weren’t exactly aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, you still thought of how the ugliest places in New Tokyo would have been the most beautiful parts of Miyagi. No city could have this much technology spread out in every corner. Even the average people walking on the streets had au courant outfits to prove that everyone in this city were trendy and fashionable by nature. 

You felt out of place. Felt like you didn’t belong. Felt like… an outsider. 

“You’ll be fine,” Summer mumbled, reaching for her bags from the overhead bin. She was quick to notice your bubbling anxiety from being in a foreign yet not-so-foreign city. “How about we go see what Tobio is up to?”

The plan was to enter the Lovers’ Village, have our lovechips implanted, leave our things at our designated lodging, and to navigate around the neighborhood in hopes of finding Tobio Kageyema. 

And to be fucking honest, you were only looking forward to the last one. 

Welcome to New Tokyo, Y/N L/N. Rintarou Suna is 5 km away. Would you like to leave your Match a message?

> Yes > No

“Aaah—ah!” Slam. “S-Suna-kun…!” Slam. “Y-Yes! Mm, more…” 

Fuck, Suna cussed inwardly. Just look at her tits. He was definitely going to miss seeing those perfect, round breasts bouncing wildly while he was fucking her hard and fast. He could feel her walls tightening around his girth, satiating his sexual needs as she spread her legs even wider to give him deeper access for his tip to reach her g-spot. 

He tightly gripped her waist to keep her body steady, pinning her down on the mattress as he rammed his hardened cock inside of her swollen pussy. Rintarou couldn’t help but mumble a “you’re so hot” to her ears—his warm breath arousing her even more with the way she was clenching inside. Goddamn it, she had the most delicious pussy he had ever fucked. That was the only thing he liked about her. 

“Shit,” he grunted, increasing his pace by thrusting his hips faster than ever. He was on a mission to chase his orgasm, not caring how loud the girl was becoming under him. She was whimpering for his name, squeezing her tits together with her half-lidded emerald eyes and parted pink lips, telling him how much she would miss him and how she was so sad that their relationship was bound to expire soon. “I’m gonna cum,” was the only thing Suna cared to say, watching his member going in and out of her entrance before he started to feel a familiar coil in his lower abdomen. There, without waiting for her climax, he released his by pulling his cock out and stroking it above her tits. His warm seed dripped down on her nipple, leaving her panting and smiling with satisfaction. 

“Suna-kun,” she weakly called for his name, pulling him down for a kiss. “Please kiss me.” 

Rintarou wouldn’t normally indulge his Matches with kisses unless he was really horny or he was trying to build the sexual tension, but since he only had a few minutes left to spend with her, he decided that a short but passionate kiss wouldn’t hurt. After all, they weren’t ever going to meet again. She would have found her new match and he would have found his. 

30 seconds. 

That was what the expiry date showed from behind his lenses and Aeri was still shamelessly naked underneath him. 

“Please,” she begged again, touching his nape and urging him to lean in. “I love you.” 

15 seconds. 

“Aeri.” He snorted and stroked her bright pink hair. “I told you never to fall in love with me.” 

Sad tears filled up her eyes before she pressed her thin lips on his. “I know. I just couldn’t help it.” 

5 seconds. 

He deepened the kiss and let her roll her tongue around his—their mouths acting as each other’s suction as they inhaled each other’s presence before the timer went off. 

Your relationship with Aeri Sakurai has expired. 

Your final love score is 68%. 

A minimum love score of 75% must be earned to level up. 

Pulling away, he got up from one side of the bed and slipped on his sweatpants. He could see from his reflection on the mirror that there were faint purple hickeys she had left on his neck and shoulder blades, laughing to himself while knowing full well that Aeri did that to let his new match know just how much he regularly slept with his last one. 

“Oh God!” she squealed, eyeing the ceiling but possibly seeing something behind her lenses. The lovechip usually gives you a vision of a screen that only you have access to, and that was possibly what she was seeing now. Her new match. “Oh my God, he’s hot!”

While chuckling, Suna raked his fingers through his hair and tossed a towel in her direction. “Clean yourself up and get outta here.” He then moved towards the nightstand to reach for a cigarette that he soon lit up. “Where’s the next one located?” 

Aeri covered her naked body with a towel and scrambled to pick up her underwear. “32B,” she said, tiptoeing to peck his cheek. “I’m gonna be so far away from you.” 

Two blocks away wasn’t that far, but there was no reason for them to keep seeing each other, either way. “What’s his name?” 

“Koutarou Bokuto.” She hid her smile. “He’s quite a big guy.” 

Just when Suna was about to wish her luck, the familiar bright purple notification popped up before his eyes. He took a long drag from his cigarette as he read through the message. 

Congratulations, Rintarou Suna! We found a new match for you! 

Name: Y/N L/N 尊名

Age: 23 years old

Location: Miyagi Prefecture, Japan

Dating success rate: 0%

Likes: astronomy, sci-fi movies, cats 

Dislikes: rude people, ghosts, dark 

Y/N L/N posted a recent voice message. Would you like to listen?

> Yes > No

“Did you get a new match?” Aeri waved at his face and tried to cut him out of trance. “Is she pretty?” 

Suna blew a puff of smoke in between his lips and shook his head. “Average looking.” 

It seemed as if his answer satisfied Aeri as she lifted his chin with her index finger. “It’s such a pity we only lasted for five months.” 

“You were my longest,” he admitted, but chose to stay in his stoic nature. He wondered how long the relationship would last with you, though. Aeri and him spent five months because their sexual compability played a huge factor on keeping their lovescore steady at 75%. But they couldn’t maintain that percentage after five months because Suna himself couldn’t commit to doing more romantic actions that felt more like a performance rather than genuine acts of love. Unfortunately, one of the rules in this system was to maintain an average love score of 75% to level up, and by leveling up, that meant you would have a better shot at turning your match into your soulmate. And once you manage to reach the soulmate status, you would have more access to better privileges such as the ability to get married, the ability to make babies, and the ability to live in a better lodging. For Rin, they all sound like a nightmare. 

So, if anyone ever asked him to give reviews on this dating simulation again, he would still rate it with 0 stars. 

The only considerable privilege they could get out of reaching the soulmate status was to be released from the program with the freewill to choose where they want to live, what job they want to have, and receive monetary prizes from Paragon that they only offer to successful couples. 

To be clear here, Suna never had the interest to join ParagonLove™ and all their bullshit about creating a perfect, harmonious society. No, he was randomly selected and he hasn’t been able to leave the program for the past two years. They said he had to perform his part and comply, otherwise it could affect his citizenship. What utter bullshit. He would rather have been selected to join the Japan Special Forces than to be trapped as an experiment in this corny episode of Love Island. 

Who cares about technological advancement when in a societal collapse? People were starving. Starving. And yet, all of these assholes in Paragon only care about building more of those stupid androids and eccentric simulation apps. Guess that wasn’t enough entertainment for them, so now they wanted to mess with their personal lives, too. They were turning this dating simulation as though they were curating some kind of a music playlist based on their supposed taste. Suna couldn’t help feeling nothing but distaste towards the rulers of his country. 

“Did ‘ya hear about the rumor that’s been goin’ around?” asked Atsumu Miya, one of Suna’s best friends in high school and also a ‘proud member’ of PL™. They were both seated on their respective bean bags playing a video game to burn the clock. “They said there’s this UFO sighting at a site near Sendai. Apparently, it crashed and they discovered aliens there.” 

Suna stared at the holographic screen, uninterested about the rumor. “That happened over a year ago.” 

“No, this one’s a different case,” the blond insisted, “Man, rumor has it that the girl’s really striking, too.” 

“Girl? I thought you said it’s an alien.”

“An alien disguised as a human girl, basically.” 

“Weird.” 

“Yeah, but…” Atsumu yawned. “I heard it’s being tortured at the Fukushima Research Facility. It’s not on the news because they don’t want the people to panic, but they’re not doing a great job at hiding it. But that’s not even the best part. I heard the alien’s claiming to have met the head of the research department in another universe.” 

Rintarou huffed. “Insane fucking world we live in. Who’s the new head of the research department again?” 

A shrug was his best friend’s response. “Satoru Gojou? Tall, white-haired dude, heir to a prestigious clan?”

“Whatever.” He placed the cigarette back between his lips and focused on the video game. “Maybe the ‘alien’ is actually just a deranged person. They need to send her to an asylum.” 

Frankly, stories and rumors like these could be heard all around the streets of New Tokyo every single day, but nothing was ever confirmed to be true. Perhaps only those working for Paragon know the truth. Perhaps they were just watching too many sci-fi movies to the point that they were creating all these absurd stories. 

Something clicked on Suna’s mind as he recalled someone who might actually find these nonsensical stories interesting. “I got my new match today.” 

“No shit,” retorted Atsumu. “I already saw Aeri leaving with her baggage this afternoon. Guess she’s off to see her new match, too?”

“Yeah…” A thick cloud of smoke crawled out of Rintarou’s lips before he patted the embers of his cigarette on the ashtray. “I fucked her one last time before she left.” 

The sudden sound of the main door opening and closing had both Suna and Atsumu turning towards the stranger on the door. Her eyes were quick to scan his appearance, judging the messy apartment, and grimacing at the awful smell of cigarette smoke. 

“Nice to meet you,” you greeted, unenthusiastically. “I’m your new match.” 

taglist :: @maitaro @tamak00 @wolffmaiden @suhkusa @boosyboo9206 @fairywriter-oracle @rntrsuna

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒…

≡ suna rintaro x f!reader

↳ Sex with Rintaro is like a cake, and the love that you both shared was simply the icing on top. Choosing a different flavor would amount to a different taste — a different concoction of different emotions and sensations all dwindled down to the fundamental nature of fucking each other.

Today, love is fucking in the restroom — urgent and needy — with a pair of red bottoms and hushed whispers.

tw/cw: mdni. reader is called : baby, princess, babe, angel. fingering. cunnilingus. exhibitionism (sex in public bathroom). explicit language. porn with plot. non penetrative and also penetrative at the end. teasing. biting. mention of drinking. Rin massages your legs and eases a cramp. he carries you because he's strong like that (,:

✉ : wow this was not edited. i didn't have the energy to go back and reread this haha but this is a fairly long one, close to 9k, but i hope you all can enjoy!! i honestly think rin would get sooo turned on if he could fuck you in some nice heels — expensive ones he bought you, because he's rich like that. but for those that have patiently waited for me to come back on my own timing, thank you !!!

It wasn’t a normal occurrence — well, today wasn’t a normal occurrence. 

Normally you wouldn’t be so expensively dolled up to strut down the carpet with obnoxiously flashing lights that blinded your eyes while people yelled at you to look there way with some Louboutin heels — absolutely gorgeous but killer to the feet — and a silk dress that was way too expensive for its simple design — but undeniably so, it made your tits look good. 

Well, that’s the second thing your boyfriend mindlessly muttered out when he saw you earlier tonight. Aside from the usual greetings and him praising you with compliments about your beauty, his comment went straight to, “fuck… these babies looking good,” as he gently cupped your breasts and gave the mounds of fat a shake as he glossed his tongue over his lips.

Also, granted whenever you did wear heels, they weren’t as murderous to your ankles, but you couldn’t deny how powerful you felt whenever you heard the clacking of your heels hit the marbled floor with its opulence and grandeur whilst you stepped into the event with your date — well, boyfriend, Suna Rintarou. 

But then again, it wasn’t a common occurrence for you to strut down the red carpet for a charity event, where the essence of one small move could enlight a flurry of reactions — bad or good — where all eyes and lens were focused on you and your man, where the grandeur of the night reflected the posh and richness of those there — people of influence and people of power in both business and fame. 

A place far out of reach for the normal person to venture, especially in these 10 inch heels. 

“Remind me again to never attend a public event with you in the future,” you hissed in between your perfect smile, eyes dazzling and pure behind a mask of complaints because of the pain, “I can’t believe after all this time of me saying no, you actually persuaded me,” you grumbled.

“Aww you saying they’ll be more of us in the future,” Rintarou chuckled as he squeezed your hand to pull you even closer, “Relax baby, breathe yea?” he calmly stated, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand, unminding the cameras and their demands for a moment to look at you, to take care of you — to let you know, to let the world know he was there for you — when he noticed your body tense, “I promise to take you back home soon.”

Running his thumb against your cheeks, brushing a single eyelash that landed on your face, “promised to take care of you, so relax.”

“Rin…” you softly called out your boyfriend, and he responded back with a short word of assurance, “hmm?”

“My feet are killing me,” you whined as you leaned onto his arm with your hand interlocked with his bigger set. Biting your lip, feeling the butterflies in your stomach as you watched your smaller feet match his larger steps, his feet adorned in a couple grand from his brand deal with Saint Laurent — head to toe dressed and defined in money — you coaxed whilst playing with his fingers, “can you carry me?” 

“Are you challenging me?” Rintarou smirked, his canines briefly showing as the tips of his lips clocked upwards, his face relaxing the moment his eyes linked with yours,  “because I definitely can do that,” and looking over to the cameras and their deafening demands of the press asking for more, “but are you ready to handle more of this when I do? Because I’m always ready.”

“How are you so good at this?” You muttered out while he led you out of the red carpet and into the private event hall, “this is so outside of you.”

“I guess you get used to it after the years,” humming as his thumb continuously grazed against the back of your hand, his head cocked to the side in thought, only to let out a knowing laugh when something caught his eye — an old friend, “but today I seem to rather enjoy this event.”

“Why? Is there something interesting?” 

“You,” his hand snaking against your waist to squeeze your hips, bending low to whisper into your ears, his lips lightly brushing against the helix, “you’re here,” lips placing a firm kiss to the temple of your head, chuckling as he notices you lightly tense at his touch, “makes me hard just looking at you in that dress, you know?”

“You’re crazy…” you groaned out, immediately snuggling your face into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, his sweet warmth encapsulating you fully as you inhaled his scent — woody with a hint of cardamom, cedarwood and coumarin. 

“It’s true though,” placing his chin onto the top of your head, his palms comfortingly running against your back, where the deep calming breaths and the vibrations of his chest whenever he talked eased your nerves, “it’s rather lonely coming to these events alone knowing you're at home,” he stated with his eyes closed as he rocked you lightly side by side.

Only to open his eyes to be far met with his old friend — freshly blonded with a cup of rocks in his hand, swirling his drink as he met eyes with him.

And tapping your back to get your attention, “baby,” and looking up to have his face awfully close to yours, lips breaths close, his eyes — sharp yet calm, knowing yet mysterious — connecting as if he looked into your soul, “give me a kiss,” his minty breath fanned over your face.

“People are here, Rin…” you muttered while observing his handsome face — his jaws clenching while he swallowed his saliva, his brows finely shaped with one cocked upwards in a teasing facade, the bridge of his nose straight and defined, his cheeks are hollow and bones chiseled to highlight his maturity — with your eyes trailing down to his lips.

“No one’s looking,” smiling as he tilted his head, preparing to kiss you as he cornered you into a more quiet space, “and plus its literally everyone we know here,” his lips venturing even closer as he gently cupped your face, intentional to not ruin your makeup, where the heat of your cheeks felt burning and the pounding of your chest felt uncomfortable to bear while you lightly grabbed onto his wrists, “just one kiss, yea? Your man’s dying a little over here,” he teased.

“Just… just one, just a little one and no more — ” you breathed out before being stifled by his soft lips, his warm tongue pushing against your lips as he eased his way in, lightly groaning into his kiss with one of his hand moving behind your neck while the other snaked its way down to your ass, squeezing lightly as he gently pushed you against the wall, “just a little more, pretty,” he breathed in between kisses when your grip on his clothes felt tighter against his body.

“Ya ever leave your girlfriend alone,” someone suddenly commented, chuckling as he leaned against the wall making it difficult for you to see who it was, “‘m so sorry, YN, that’s no way to treat your date, Sunarin.”

Groaning in frustration, heavily sighing through his nose as he slowly unlatched his lips with yours, brows furrowed yet his movements relaxed and unfazed by the intruder while your eyes frantically tried to gaze behind your boyfriend’s shoulder to see who it was.

Looking up to see your boyfriend, his lips lightly colored with a muffle of your lipstick, you reached up to rub it off his lips, embarrassed of being told off for making out with your boyfriend at a public event.

“Fuck off Atsumu,” Rintarou called out without looking back, smiling as he scanned your frightened face, “you bitter that you don’t have a date or that I blocked all your shots?”

“YN, do you see this?” Atsumu whined out, exaggerating a tearful gesture, “do all the years of us knowing each other mean nothing to you, Sunarin? And plus, you lost yesterday.” 

“Hi, Atsumu… I’m sorry you had to witness this,” you gave him a friendly welcome while pushing Rintarou to the side to say your proper hello, only to be met with a group of his friends to also be making their way over, with one — Komori — donning a rather sorry look for the intrusion, and another — Sakusa — hiding a scowl behind his mask geared not to you, nor Rintarou, but to the faux blonde, leading to him shooting the man with a subtle insult while greeting you, “sorry, YN please excuse his behavior… he hasn’t had much action going on, hence why he came alone.”

“I so do!” Atsumu yelled out, “I just didn’t bring anyone today,” his voice dwindled down when he noticed others looking over his way.

“That’s not what your brother told me,” Rintarou chimed out, “I met with him yesterday.”

“... I knew I should’ve stuffed him in the womb,” Atsumu muttered under his breath.

“I believe you ‘Tsumu,” shooting him a friendly smile as mentally hit your head when you felt Rintarou’s hand being placed behind your back, “you’re a capable man! I promise you’ll find someone soon,” you comforted him.

“Fuck all of you,” apolegetically looking at you, “minus you, YN, you’re the best,” as he stood up proud with the same haughty presence he’s always carried, “be more like YN, she’s a good friend,” Atsumu jeered out.

“Wow, how can you say that with all the years we’ve known each other, ‘Tsumu,” Rintarou wiped out his fake tears.

Atsumu stared back shocked from the gaslighting, “YN… I swear your boyfriend is a psychopath… how do you deal with him?” 

“You know he loves you,” you let out, “he wouldn’t be like this if he didn’t.”

“You speak too highly of me, babe,” Rintarou smirked as he looked back at Atsumu, ”you’re turning me on, keep doing that.”

“... here, c’me here, YN… let me save you from him, and Ow! —” Atsumu attempted to pull you closer to him, only from him to be countered by the raven hair and Komori pulling him away, “we’ll leave you two… have a good night, YN-san,” Komori quietly stated before running back to catch up with his cousin. 

“If he does anything to you, call me! YN! You have my number right,” Atsumu called out while the duo pulled him away, “leave my poor YN alone Suna —”

Feeling the grasp of his warm palms wrap around your arms, pulling it to link around his as he gestured with his chin to latch on, leading you both to his table as he nonchalantly announced, “let’s go princess before you actually have to use the Atsumu card.”

Knowing full well you’ll never dare to…

… 

Walking out the event, the humid yet cold summer’s wind brushing past your exposed shoulders, littering small goosebumps onto your skin. The air felt mildly thick and damp, causing your face to feel oddly sticky and your silk dress to feel suffocating to wear, yet the warmth of his jacket neatly placed over your shoulders, where the faint hue of his cologne delicately past through your nasal canals gave you a sense of comfort and security as he walked you out. 

“Tired?” He hummed out as he carefully led you out of the venue, and down the lighted steps of the museum stairs, “careful, watch your steps.”

“Yea… these heels are absolutely gorgeous, and thank you for buying these for me…” stating your gratitude yet the burn of your soles couldn’t be beared any longer. You hissed whilst taking small steps down, grabbing hold of the end of your dress with your other hand, “but they are the spawn of the devil after a couple of hours.”

“Maybe choose something comfortable next time, I don’t think it’ll make a difference what you wear,” Rintarou mindlessly stated as he led you to the curb, “thought those heels would at least be comfortable to wear given their price.”

“Wow… my boyfriend is so empathetic, I’m so blessed,” you sarcastically jeered back, glaring at his calm face, “no heels are comfortable, Rin… and maybe I wouldn’t be so tired if you didn't —” stopping yourself to check if anyone was near to hear, looking elsewhere to ignore his teasing gaze, feeling a sudden flush in your cheeks. 

“If I didn't, what?” Rintarou smirked back, “you gonna finish your sentence?”

“If we didn’t do that in the restroom,” you quietly muttered, feeling the apples of your cheeks flare up and the knot in your stomach to tighten again, the dampness of your underwear mocking your resolve, “I almost pulled a muscle with you being so… needy.”

Quirking his eyebrow, “so you didn’t like it?” leaning closer to your face that you’re forced to look at him, ”I think you got it wrong,” running the back of his finger softly against your cheek, “for someone that’s proclaiming I was the needy, you clenched real hard on my finger —”

— Sex.

Sex with Rintaro is like a cake, and the love that you both shared is simply the icing on top. Choosing a different flavor would amount to a different taste — a different concoction of different emotions and sensations all dwindled down to the fundamental nature of fucking eachother.

Today, sex was being pushed onto the cool black marbled wall, lips desperately smushed against eachother as warm tongues twirled insides the orifices, where the heat of individual lust blossomed within their cores.

Today sex was like a double chocolate cake with red velvet icing — rich and creamy, beholding the sultry of lustful souls, yet a little too sweet that it entrances the mind from knowing logic. 

“Rin!” you softly moaned into his hair, gripping onto the ends making sure to not ruin his look, his large palms placed under your thighs pressing you to wrap your legs around his thin waists for support as he feverishly pushed your back against the wall, his tongue running up your neck as he hurriedly placed his lips against yours once more.

“Who told you to look so fucking sexy in this dress huh?” Rintarou snarled, the grip on your thighs increasing as he pushed his hardened bulge against your clothed pussy, “making me go fucking insane when you wear things like this, you know?”

“You like it?” You breathily moaned out, desperately grasping hold of your boyfriend so you wouldn’t fall, “you bought it for me though…”

“Shit,” his voice muffled as he lightly bit onto your trapezius, “I love all of it, all of you.”

Grunting as the suffocation piling up in his pants caused his senses to heighten and the burning need to take some sort of action — any action he supposes — to mitigate the sexual tension and carnal drive between you and him. So he places his lips onto your yours, riding his hips into you, grinding his hardened, sensitive bulge against your clothed womanhood, enjoying the feel of your muffled moans being smushed into his mouth, teeth clashing and tongues sliding against each other. 

“Rin!” you mewled out his name, just barely managing to pull his lips away from yours, “p-put me down, I’m getting tired,” you uttered out as you desperately clawed at his back, where the fine fabric of his shirt made it hard for you to grip onto him as usual. 

“Hold on,” Rintarou quickly announced before placing his hands firmly under your ass to carry you to the granite top, the cold sheet of the stone contrasting to the burning heat you felt inside shot chills up your spine, causing your thighs to twitch close, only for your boyfriend to spread them apart, growling as he pulled onto your lower lip, “keep them open,” for him to fit into the crevice and start building circles around your wet cunt. 

Anchoring your legs onto his arm, spreading your thighs out to have you erotically sitting on top of the dark, your heeled feet dangling as he pushed your thighs up to your chest expose your dainty covered pussy, blotted wet a darker shade around your cunt, scrunching up your dress to fully expose up to your clothed tits, humming in approval at what he was seeing.

“Fucking god… always wanted to fuck you in your heels,” he entinced whilst licking his lips, pulling your lower limbs up to appreciate, to run his lips against your ankles as he kissed your skin, “look how pretty you look with your red bottoms, baby,” Rintarou teased as he brushed his fingers against your pussy, before placing a light kiss on the base of your cunt, “and look how wet you are.”

“Rin… stop looking, i-it’s embarrassing,” you squealed out as you tried to stop him, yet your fingers found its place on top of his head, coaxing him to continue.

“What’s embarrassing?” and showing his dominance, Rintarou confronted your worries, “I’m looking at what’s mine, no?” 

And unbuttoning his sleeve and pulling it up to his elbow, exposing his toned arm and delicately placed veins, his watch sparkling in the dimly lit room and his tie fanning to his back as he swiftly ran his long digits against your folds, pushing your laced thong to the side to expose your glistening cunt, the dainty fabric soaked in a pool of your juices. Teasingly brushing his fingers against your clit and around your needy hole, blowing cold air to your cunt as he watched you squirm under his reign, his sharp eyes concentrating on your features, “tell me you want it,” he ordered.

“I w-want you,” you embarrassingly whimpered out, “p-please, Rin…”

“Yea? Fuck… gotta give the princess what she wants yea?” he acknowledged. And drawing himself closer in, placing a hand on the wall as his lips hovered centimeters close to yours, and though you pulled forward he didn’t give you the freedom to taste his sweetness again but instead lightly pinched your clit to chuckle at your sudden gasp.

“R-rin—” 

Only for him to muffle your cries again as his wet fingers penetrated inside of you — one then two and another more — squelching in and out of your gummy walls, carving a path for him. 

Easing out the pressure in your hips as his lips made love with yours, fingers slowly stretching you out, brushing in upwards motions as his middle finger seeked your g-spot.

And once he felt your hole tightly pulsing on his fingers, only to suddenly hitch and clench when he reached the specific rubbery portion of your inner walls, plush and ragged as he pushed his finger to massage the region, “you like it here yea?” he quietly taunted, “you hear your pussy, baby?” kissing your forehead as the curve of his fingers increased and the speed of his fingering caused your cunt to squelch loudly.

Desperately nodding as you bit onto your sore lower lip, his thumb pressing the flesh out of your teeth as he eased out the pain, “don’t do that, you’re going to bleed,” he groaned out. 

Suna Rintarou. The man full of nonchalance and wit, endorsing the typical bad boy image, yet floundered in the ideals of mystery and perception — it was no shock that even his most loyal fans couldn’t quite decipher who he was.

Unreadable, and mysterious — simply the unknown. 

But there he was, with the same spark in his eyes whenever he was drenched in the incense of his hormones and raptured by lustful tension in the room. The infamous man for having eyes unreadable and actions unforeseeable, yet in these tender, honest moments when his chest heaved harshly, where the small trickles of sweat pebbled on his forehead, his mouth slightly gaped open as he moaned out your name, you knew him. Where the longing presses of his fingers against your skin, and the agonizing bites and apologetic kisses he placed over your body, you knew him.

And when Suna Rintarou looks at you, you happen to just know — his eyes are the answer to his soul, his heart.

“You’re so pretty, Rin,” you whispered out, managing to gain a bit of leverage to be sane as you reached out to cup his face.

“You always say that,” he grunted as his fingers continuously massaged your sweet spots. And unminding the tension building up in your core, and the urge to let go encapsulated you — for just for a brief moment you had the power — you always noticed him leaning into your touch, with eyes gentle and known, his body language winding to a simple song of love — Suna Rintarou was easy to read. 

And just before you were able to release a moan, holding out just enough before letting him take over, asking — absolutely begging for him to let you cum — you heard the vibrant clacking of heels enter the restroom, only to be met with a familiar sets of voices that caused your cunt to clench tight on his fingers, and your boyfriend’s hands to immediately travel to your mouth to stifle your cries.

Yet his fingers, his absolute reign, showed no mercy towards you —

“Fucking god… these pants always feel so suffocating, my dick can’t breathe” a man complained, “and Samu is gonna kill me if I can’t get this stain out of his shirt.”

“Is there ever a time when you don’t complain and aren’t so… barbaric, Miya?” another countered back.

“Yer mean, Omi - Omi,” the first man placing emphasis on the nickname, “not my fault for being built packing, but whatever, I’ll forgive you because I’m so kind.”

“Keep going if you want to walk back home, Miya.”

Miya Atsumu and Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

fuck.

“Rude…” the faucet creaked open, where a rush of water flowed out, “but anyways, it’s been some time since we’ve seen the two, no?” Atsumu questioned.

“Guess they got pulled into something,” Sakusa suggested whilst also washing his hands. 

“They’re probably fucking someplace,” Atsumu chuckled before shutting the faucet, “poor YN, Sunarin can never keep his hands to himself whenever she’s around… that fucker probably goes for a couple of rounds exhausting the poor thing — Ow! What the hell, Omi?” Atsumu yelped.

“Maybe if you could find yourself someone special you won’t be so clingy and start to leave me alone,” the raven hair countered as he washed his hands.

Deeply breathing through his nose, his drive also closing into a climax as he whispered quietly into your ears, stroking your heated cheeks and brushing your watery eyes, as his eyes now signaled his honest truth, his unconsented truth revealed, “cum for me.” And before you could register what was going, high off the thrill of your peers just outside the restroom doors and masked by the ecstasy of being with your boyfriend — his fingers drilling inside you in the cold restroom — Rintarou fingers pulsed vehemently inside of you, hitting deep within your walls yet managing to hit just at the perfect spots, causing your thighs to tremble close, desperately quivering as your nails formed crescents into his skin. 

“Again, rude… I’m jus’ saying… I know Rintarou, he’s always been like that with YN,” massaging the place where Sakusa hit him, “I’ve never seen him so helpless with another person.”

“Cum, cum on my fingers baby,” Rintarou lowly growled, his forearm feeling strained and the veins in his arms bulging from its use.

And seeing you almost reach your climax, your thighs shut tightly close, body trembling with your brows heavily furrowed and eyes laden with sweet tears — precious tears he would’ve normally licked off when making love, enticing and angelic, absolutely heavenly in taste as he relinquished on his high.

“But I guess… love does look good on him, making me all jealous and shit seeing him be so soft,” Atsumu confessed.

“Then get a stable partner instead of fucking around,” Sakusa suggested as he walked out of the restroom, the mens heels clacking further away with each second. 

Simultaneous to the pulsing clench he felt in your pussy, your velvet walls falling flush to his sore fingers, covering his digits with your juices as he traveled down his arm, Rintarou felt a slight buzzing in the back of his pocket. 

Releasing his hand, softly pecking soft kisses on your cheeks as he mumbled short apologies as his fingers continuously glided in and out of you, the muted squelchings of your wet pussy resounded awfully loud for your sensitive ears as his lips teasingly glazed over yours, whispering longingly, “thought they’ll never leave.”

Before you could answer, he suddenly put his fingers into your mouth, his eyes that of a predator ready to bait on his prey, swirling his fingers around your tongue, as his gaze pierces into your half lidded eyes, chest panting as you tried to regain your conscience from your high, lightly brushing against the hard tent in his pants,  “how’d that taste?” Suna retorted with a grin.

“Ngh —” your words slurred against the pressure of his fingers in your mouth, where the faint scent of your cunt absorbed up your nostrils, “I d-don’t know, it t-taste weird,” you managed to let out.

And quirking his eyebrows, where the tips of his lips formed into a smirk, eyes drilling into you as he pressed forward to be inches away from your face, “hah… wrong,” he whispered as he cupped your face to kiss you while his wet hand trailed down to play with your tits, groaning in between hungry kisses with moans drawn out when lips let go, with your hands tangled in his hair and his face littered with the smudging of your red lipstick, Suna hummed out as he stareed deep into your eyes — hypnotizing and tantalizing of your senses — as if he searched for something deeper within you. Licking his lips, coating his bruised flesh with his saliva as he wiped the remnant of the kiss of your lips, “you taste fucking sweet to me.”

And opening your clothed chest, your bosom bare and perked, where your nipple stood hard and straight as his large hands sparingly massaged the fat. Hissing out curses of pleasure before his lips immediately went to latch onto the nipple, the pressure of his tongue causing your hands to tangle into his hair and your hips to jerk upwards. 

“Everything about you is so sweet,” he murmured before latching off, where a trickle of his spit connected him to your bosom, and taking both his hands to shake your breasts, smiling as he watched the ripples of your fat feel like waves in his hands — plush and soft, the perfect pillow and his loving fucking grace in the form of two tits, Suna Rintarou was absolutely gone. 

“god look at these fucking tits,” his tongue driving up your sternum and up your jaw, ”could suck these all day and still want more.”

“R-rintarou…” you mewled out his name — but it was the wrong damned choice.  

Eyes suddenly glazed in carnal lust, where the usual teasing shine of his gaze was now absent but instead coated in antagonizing darkness the moment he heard you call his name, triggering a devil inside of him whenever you adorned your place in his life.

“Fuck… come here,” Rintarou groaned as he peppered soft wet kisses up your neck, carrying you down to push you to the wall as molded your ass, “turn around for me,” and whispering into your ear, sultry and craving, as he helped you change your position, “I need you right now.”

“We can’t… not here,” you reminded him, hand thrown back to grasp behind his neck to feel him behind you, “we have to go back, and I j-just came,” you breathed out whilst clenching the lower ends of his fine hair, “I’ll suck you off,” you moaned. 

“Later… we can do that later,” he uttered in between kisses, “but if you really don't want to, just let me know… I can wait.”

And running your teeth on your lower lip, shaking your head in a ‘no’ refusing to look at him before the embarrassment of your logic knowingly doing this was wrong, especially in public, countered with your apparent desire of having him as your body welcomed him.

“Baby look at me,” already rutting his clothed member against your exposed ass, gearing your face to the side with his hand placed under your jaw, pushing the lining of your dainty thong to the side to see your hole pucker, where your folds lightly glistened from below, “I’ll make it quick,” he amorously murmured into your naked back, running his tongue along your spine as he unzipped his pants to reach in to finally unleash his constrained cock. And quickly pumping his length as he hissed out a moan, pants slightly pulled down just to enough to expose the crevice of his ass, watching you yearn for him just as much as he wanted you as he rubbed his cock against your ass to measured just how far his cock could reach the depths inside of you with your torso pushed against the marbled wall and ass puckered prettily for him.

“Rin…” you zealously moaned out, “w-what if someone hears us,” you alerted yet your ass was mindlessly being pushed further into him.

“I won’t go in,” he muttered as he hovered over your body, his hot breath tickling your face, “just give me one more, yea pretty?” his leading voice softly vibrating against your shoulder, his lips planting a light kiss on your scapula, “ do it for us please.”

And pushing two fingers into your mouth, swirling his digits around your heated tongue, groaning as he pushed his hips into your ass, only to level down his hand to lubricate your folds and coat your clit with your saliva, “Babe, bring your thighs together,” Rintarou softly ordered.

“Rin! —” your moans were soon muffled with his lips, tongues thrashing into your mouth as his cock soon entered into the tight crevice of your thighs, groaning into the kiss as he gained his momentum.

The feeling of his cock lewdly brushing through your folds and hitting your clit, felt like a different aspect of euphoria that you normally didn’t feel when he penetrated in. Maybe it was the high of doing something so lewd and salacious in the public restroom that made you oddly so excited, or maybe it was simple tantalizing touch of your boyfriend and the urge to have him fuck you the moment you saw him dolled up and looking expensive. 

“shit, baby…” needily moaning as he placed a firm hand to support under your stomach, pulling you closer to his body as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, groaning as your soft skin pushed against his length, “Fuck, you drive me insane… so soft.” 

His desperate breaths eliciting a drive inside of you, causing the depths of your organs to feel twisted and hot as soft, tiny mewls left your dry lips.

“Oh god, Rin… i-if you keep doing that then i’m gonna cum — ” you gasped, feeling the knot in your stomach build in pressure, your thighs quivering in ecstasy combined with the strenuous feel of your hamstrings stretching and the devilish ache of your feet from your high heels. 

And suddenly feeling his hand cover your mouth, growling while his tongue sloppily swirling against your earlobe, pressing firm kisses to your temple, “that’s the fucking point baby,” his hips pulsing into your ass as he continuously rutted his cock in between your thighs, “and shh… gotta be quiet princess, I can’t have other people hearing you,” and lightly nibbling his teeth against your earlobe, listening to the haggard breaths of your boyfriend as he thrusted in, “you’re fucking mine, only I get to hear all of this.”

With your moans muffled and your nails clawing at the granite wall, holding onto the lateral surface for leverage as your boyfriend continuously pulsed his length within your thighs, it didn’t take long for you to feel the regular hitch of his hips and the haggard breaths he took — the all too familiar groaning and the heaves of his chest signaling he was close.

“R-rin are you close?” you softly cried out.

“Mhm, so so close, just a little bit more for me, yea?” Suna persuaded.

“Make it fast, I… I — oh god…” your moans drifted into the cold air, eye trailing back to your head as your knees locked and thighs immediately clenched. The heat of your body shooting straight to your womanhood as it ricochet a sensation of vibrations to erupt from your core, filling you up to the brim in both mind and heart as you shook in the presence of your lover.

“Shit shit shit!” Rintarou cursed out, his heavy body hovering over you with his long arms wrapped around your waists, forehead pressing against the lining of your back with heavy air being exhaled from his nostrils and chest fighting to take in air without making much noise, jaws clenching as ropes of his cum painted the dark marble, spluttering out as his cock flinched on your inner thighs. 

Breaths trying to gain momentum before Rintarou gently whispered out, “y-you okay?” 

Wincing mixed with laughter, you responded back, “Yea just give me a minute, I think my butt is cramping.” 

Immediately taking action to massage your ass, his firm hand pressing on the tighten piece of muscle, “here?” Rintarou probed, yet with his cock still within you — throbbing and feeling full inside the crevice of your thighs, his arms unwilling to let you go just yet. 

“A little higher…” feeling his hand move in response, “mhm… yea right there.”

And peppering soft kisses up your back, eventually traveling up your neck as he delicately eased out the pain, whispering small words of affirmations in between short kisses while his unused hand unapologetically mounded your breasts, “sorry if I was too much, fuck youre just so hot,” his lips brushing against your ear whilst his hand traveling to the base of your neck to turn your head to mildly face him, his groin teasingly pushing against your backside, “and you’re making me hard all again just thinking about you.”

“You’re an animal, Rin,” you brushed out his tease with a small chuckle, “ and I could say the same thing about you, pretty boy.”

“Yea?” His voice loomed over your sensitive skin, brushing against the heat of your body like ointment for a burn, “ Wanna bet who’s more fucked for the other,” pressing a kiss to your temple and to your nose,  “I’m fairly positive I’ll win,” Rintarou stated as he loosely chuckled into your cheek.

“Though I’m scared of what you’re capable of,” bringing your hand to reach the back of his neck to pull him closer into your vicinity, “you’re on, Suna Rintarou.”

“You’re turning me on again,” Rintarou sweetly let out, and in between tender kisses with his lips softly pressed to open yours, gently turning you around to properly face him, “fuck… you know I’m weak when you say my name.”

“You’re ridiculous… who would’ve thought you would be so needy.”

“It’s all your fault.”

“You’re being silly,” you chuckled.

“But I wonder who fucks you dumb —” smirking as he reached over to grab a tissue.

“Rin!” you gasped while pinching his chest, “... someone can hear.”

“Don’t move YN, let me clean you up,” voice longing yet gentle, as his hand held you from underneath to keep you from drooping down as your legs still quivered from the strain, “baby… we just fucked in public and you’re nervous about someone hearing me talk a little dirty?”

“But still… it’s embarrassing Rin…” you stammered as he settled you down onto the covered toilet, settling in between your thighs as he rubbed off his cum.

Teasing with a pleasing aura to his face, nonchalant yet sly, “you came real hard on my fingers for someone so embarrassed.”

“I hate you.”

“Well, I love you, so that’s your problem.”

And placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, lightly cupping your face as he placed a soft kiss to your lips, tongue graceful and knowing — a different type of kiss from before, a kiss pure and delicate, an allegory to his love.

“You really okay? How’s the cramp?” questioning as he carefully looked into your eyes to check for any signs of discomfort. 

“Yea, I’m fine… just a little tired, Rin.” you offered him a smile. 

“Sorry again if I went too far… I- I just couldn’t hold it,” Rintarou shyly admitted, his eyes fanning away from yours, only to return back to reveal his tender heart once more, “ i love you so much, you know?,” he coaxed while he helped you get on your feet and dressed you up.

“Yea… I always know, Rin.”

And checking his phone, remembering the short vibration he felt in his pants, seeing a message sent a couple minutes prior

From: the blonde one.

Do it at home will ya? ya nasty little rabbits.

—

Immediately covering his mouth as a group of people passed by, throwing shy glances and curious stares at this odd occurrence. And murmuring softly as you felt his hand weave to your hips to draw you close, and his sharp eyes scanning as his lips craned into a smile, “I liked it okay… so please just shut up… please,” you pleaded.

Chuckling as he lightly tightened his grip on your waist, gently removing your hand as he placed a chaste kiss to your palm, waiting at the sidewalk as he alerted a nearby taxi, leaning back to expose his tall height against you, “But what I’m saying is that you’ll always look pretty whatever you wear, clearly if I did that with you in the restroom,” teasing as the ends of his lips crooked up into a smirk, “you’ll always be pretty to me, makes me feral almost.” 

“I- I can say the same thing about you too, Rin…” playing with his long fingers as the cab came to a stop.

“Aww aren’t we cute,” his voice was sarcastic yet unremoved from any sense of affection as he opened the back door, signaling for you to enter in with a small smile, “careful of your head,” Rintarou warned.

And settling down on the seat next to you, tapping his thighs as you immediately leaned against the door, lightly groaning as you placed your feet on his thighs, while his large palms — softly calloused and warm — massaged your legs and feet, where his long fingers gently pushed against your sore muscles alleviating the pain, as he informed the driver of the address, “this is the address, if you can please take us there.”

His large hands knowingly wrapping around your ankles, gently massaging up your legs to your knees, lightly breathing with his thighs spread out to stabilize your legs as his fingers softly mounded into your muscles to ease the tension, “feels good?” he hummed out.

“Mhm,” you peeked up at your boyfriend — hair slicked back, jaws chiseled, with his neck exposed through his loose tie that teasingly expressed his defined collarbones and the bobbing of his Adam's apple whenever he swallowed.

“You’re going to drill a hole into my face if you stare like that.”

“I wasn’t looking at you — ”

“Yea?” His voice soft but never lacking the tease that he always had as his fingers traveled up your inner thigh, shocking you of his sultry acts.

“Y-yea…” you breathed out as you eyed the driver.

Chuckling as he gave your thighs a gentle squeeze, fanning out your dress to ease the wrinkles, “cute,” he responded to your hesitance.

Staring back at you with a curve to his outer lip, with a hint of playful banter mixed with honesty, “But, when you’re ready to be honest, I’m just letting you know,” Rintarou commented, “I’m all yours to look at without feeling shy.”

“I know…” You whispered back.

“How are your feet?” Rintarou asked as he observed your ankles, where the padding of his palms pressed down on your joints to ease the pain.

“A little better but… the soles feel like it's burning from the strain,” softly muttering with an unnoticeable pout as you lightly twirled your fingers, where the apples of your cheeks started to flare, gulping as a nervous tick within your stomach bloomed when you noticed your boyfriend’s handsome profile staring down at your limbs to do his best to ease the pain, “i-it’s nice to have a handsome boyfriend that massages my feet, you know?”

“Yea?” chuckling as he continued his motions without looking over, “I thought I was pretty, no?” 

Reminded of your prior rendezvous and the words you split during such elicit acts, feeling the soreness of your lips as you brushed against the flesh, shifting your gaze off him as you felt a punch of an erection hit you in the core, “I — yeah,” you let out as you looked outside the tinted window, the rush of the ledges of the bridge swifting past with each second, blurry insight yet nonetheless existent, hoping that the wind that blew past this cab would also carry the fire brewing within.

“Suna-san, we’re here.” The driver announced. 

—-

The once cold yet humid atmosphere from prior, where the air felt mildly thick and fairly uncomfortable now dwindled to a chilly aura, where the soft breezes of the city’s cold air blew past you both. It was a rather quiet night compared to the rambunctious event from before — a night rather gloomy and dull, perfect for you as you recharged your expended social energy with your boyfriend’s fragrant jacket loomed over your shoulders, counting each step that he took from the cab to the entrance of the lobby,

“It's only because of the heels I’m letting you do this,” you grumbled as you rolled your teeth against your sore lips.

“Sure, only because of the heels,” Rintarou countered back, lightly jumping to fix his grasp on your thighs.

“I-I’m heavy though…” You muttered into his neck, your arms grasping tightly around his neck, nose nuzzled to inhale his familiar scent, “and aren’t you tired?” you murmured.

“Exhausted, yes,” Rintarou calmly stated, “but that’s only because I’ve been surrounded by so many people,” the squeezing of his hands around your thighs comforting you, “it’s not because of you.”

The clapping of his shoes meeting the glazed floor, echoing through the lobby of his luxurious apartment complex, signaling the solitude you both had during the small hours of the morning, “but nah, when else are you going to use your boyfriend card?” 

“Boyfriend card?”

Chuckling as he shook his head, “if you aren’t going to use him for things like this, no?”

“Cringe, Rin…”

“There’s no such thing as cringe in love, YN.”

“You’re so annoying…” snuggling your face to his back, “put me down when you reach the last step to the elevator, okay?” you grumbled as you tried to hide the heat of your cheeks, “I’m not dying, I can walk, Rin.”

“Damn guess I didn’t do my job right.” 

As he glanced back you saw the knowing smirk in his lips, and the sentiment he carried in his tone, right away you noticed — he was far from done.

Lightly humming while he pressed on the elevator button, as his grip on your thighs increased, “the night is still young, I guess.”

“Rin…” you hesitantly called out, your voice slightly muted from the ding of the elevator.

Stepping in and pressing the button to his floor, settling into the private composite of the elevator, “Relax… just saying daddy’s strong, that’s all,” Rintarou teased, placing extra emphasis on the pet name as he bounced up again to get a better grip on your thighs, anchoring his arms underneath your knees, yet this time, his voice was rather indecipherable. 

“I don’t trust your words,” placing a friendly kiss to the back of his neck, feeling the tension in his arms loosen, “you always have an underlying message behind your words.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No, never said that…” sighing as you tightened the grip around his neck, cuddling into his warmth with his weighted jacket hung over your shoulders, “it’s a good type of distrust, I guess… just keeps me on my toes you know?”

“Eh? So you don’t trust me?”

“No, never said that too,” giggling into his neck, feeling him mildly squirm as your breath seemingly tickled him, “I trust you, a whole lot, hmm… what I mean is, I know I don’t need to settle for less, and you never treat me like that, but it’s always something new you offer that I don’t know what to expect, that’s all.” 

“So you’re obsessed with me,” Rintarou teasingly commented, “damn, I always knew you were obsessed.” 

“No, I think that’ll be you, Suna Rintarou,” you lightheartedly laughed, ignorant of the emphasis you placed on his name — a force unapparent to you yet so humbling for him, to call him by his name, to have him chained to your lips and at your unknown mercy. 

Because lust — the sweet calling of his name out of your lips, branding him into your palms as he simply absorbs your all, coaxing him into becoming someone new— is a lovely word that makes love — loving you, loving all of you — something more than worthwhile.

Because when he imagines you smiling, holding his hand, caressing his face, kissing his lips as your fingers venture through to graze against his sensitive body, when you allow him to hold you in his arms as he absorbs your energy… nothing can overcome the tender sounds of his heart beating within his chest as he watches you lay naked, breathless and simply beautiful — trusting and loving him just the same — that something sparks within him that he can’t seem to contain, for his world spins around a central axis — you.

“Ah fuck you got me,” Rintarou chuckled, rolling his teeth against his lower lip. Where the same knowing thumps of his heart resonating through his chest, staggering his breaths as he tried to contain himself. 

But with each step that he took closer to his apartment door, the once gray painting of the entrance now seemingly bright and inviting. And looking toward the ground as he progressed forward, Rintarou let out a breath through his nose, “you still tired baby?”

“I’m alright now,” you hummed, “you can let me down now, Rin.”

Punching the keys to his front lock, the beeping of the buttons lightly echoing through the empty hallway, “You sure?” he asked with his hands not letting you go.

“Mhm.”

Easily opening his door, settling into his dark living room, the air cold yet welcoming as the city lights dimmed through the window, the sparkles of the highway painting a luminescent color of warm hues.

“Rin… I’m really okay,” you eased his arms, “set me down please,” you encouraged.

And quickly thanking him when you felt him crouching down to help you get down, “thank you —” 

Kneeling down to take your heels off for you, his knowing hands wrapping around your ankle as he slowly removed the expensive article off your feet, his lips softly kissing the sides of your thighs whilst his fingers trailed against your skin.

“Oh… Rin…” you lightly moaned out, feeling his face venture closer — deeper within — hitching up your dress to expose your thighs as he kissed up your legs.

“So fucking soft…” Rin murmured in between kisses, his hands quickly unlatching your other foot out of your shoes.

And by habit your hands immediately trailed to his soft hair, gently taking a handful of it into your hands, your nails faintly scratching his scalp, uncaring now if it becomes messy.

“Tell me to stop,” gently biting on your inner thigh and placing a kiss to ease your cute whimpers, “tell me to stop now if you don’t want this,” Rintarou breathed out, his lips adamant on continuing forward — his hands urgent and wanting, “because I can’t on my own.”

“Rin… take me to the bed,” you whispered out, pulling him upward as you cupped his face, craning your back as you looked into his urgent eyes, “not here, hmm?” you coaxed before placing an innocent kiss — supposedly — onto his lips.

The light clapping of each other's lips, and the lowly grunts and hitched breaths that elicited out of you both, uncaring to take the time to breath as the kiss progressed. And not taking a second to waste, you felt the tapping of your ass before he ordered in between feverish kisses — spit connecting you both while his hot breath fanned against your wanting face — uncaring to even open his eyes with his brows deeply furrowed.

Breathing out of his nose, “jump,” was all he said before he felt your legs immediately wrap around his waists, your arms tightly surrounded his neck, leaving no room for distance as he carried you to his room.

“Told you I’ll always win,” Rintarou groaned into your neck, his tongue trailing against your collar bones, “literally always on my mind,” his lips peppering wet kisses up your neck as he huffed into your ear, brows furrowed as he concentrated on his steps while he made love with you, “ you got me all fucked up, you know?”

With the dainty straps of your dress falling off your shoulders, kissing every inch of your body that you allowed before plopping you both onto the bed.

“I- I thought you were joking ah!” You moaned out close to his ear, desperately pulling him closer to your body as he stripped you off of your clothes. 

“Baby, take my clothes off,” Rintarou whispered, shushing your mewls with his lips, “nah, princess…” his voice low and taunting. 

“Oh.. Rin… right there,” you sighed when you felt his mouth latch onto your puffy nipples, sore and tender from before — every move of his tongue and the slight sucking of his mouth felt even more sensitive — as your hands reached below to quickly unbuckle his belt and unbutton his white shirt, one of his large hands urgently pulled down yours to cup his blooming erection — hardening and throbbing inside his pants — breathing through his nose as he pushed his face against your breasts, “does that feel like a joke to you?”

Gulping as you felt his member, your mouth salivating when you felt him flinch when you lightly squeezed on his length. surely it was bigger than what you felt earlier tonight.

Rin wasn’t thick, but he was long. Blessed with a pretty face and an even prettier penis, clean shaven but not bare, Rin’s was slender with his head a blush pink, a vein running through the base as it massaged your insides, his length probing inside in your caverns, where it was caved personally in his size from the shear amount he’s fucked you.

“No…” you shuddered out. 

Peppering kisses along your body, Rintarou whisperingly chuckled, “good girl, relax for me yea?” as he caged you inbetween his arms, chest exposed to showcase his toned abs and heavy breathes, smiling with his canines showing and lips curled into a smirk, “and when have I ever joked about sex with you, huh pretty?

Pressing down to throw his weight down on you, the pressure of his body mildly suffocating your lungs, “You dont know how long I’ve been waiting to properly fuck you?” Rintarou growled into your ear, his taunting hot breaths causing your core to burn in flames, building a knot inside your womanhood. 

“Rin…” you purred out while you bucked your hips up to wrap your naked legs around his waists, “let me feel you…”

“mhm?” smirking with eyes glowing in the night, the tips of his eyes fanning upwards, “been hard all fucking night waiting till I could take you home,” he growled while leading your hands down to touch his hardened bulge as he simultaneously pulled his trousers down to pool at his ankles. 

Thrusting his hips in, closing your smaller hands into a tight fist as he pushed through the crevice, “now you want my cock, baby?” his grunts mixed in with a scoff.

“I always want you,” you pressed a kiss to his temple, “only you, and you alone,” you breathed out when you felt the tip of his cock brush through your wet folds, bending your back as you pulled his face into your breasts, latching your quivering thighs around his thin waists, to push him in, “so have all of me, I’m all yours…”

“Fuck baby… y-you’re clenching,” Rintarou huffed out as he slowly sunk his cock inside you, his hands gripping onto the sheets with his arms caging you in, “it’s too early for this… you’re cheating, princess.”

Softly laughing as you cupped his face, your composure light and steady despite the fire raging within you, pulling him close till a breath do you part, “I thought you wanted to see who’s more obsessed…”

Love… a tender and honest love, a love that surpasses all knowledge of right and wrong yet stays within the realms of the undeniable truth that love — not simply just a feeling but dedication and sacrifice — the cordial desire and upmost want, often times coming forth in a the burning heat of bodies or simply honest conversations during the quiet times… love was real.

And love was him.

“Because I’ll win, Suna Rintarou.”

© satorins™ — do not copy, plagiarize, repost, modify and/or translate my works.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

thinking about how sunarin, whose primary love language is physical touch, would take advantage of the weather everytime it gets cold, saying, "oh look, it's raining— guess it''s cuddle weather, doll..”

you'd always roll your eyes at him, though there's a smile on your face, “rin, it's barely a drizzle.”

“it's still rain.” he pouts cutely, hazel green fox eyes a bit narrowed as you get up to get ready for the day, him still entangled in the sheets of the bed you two share. “c’mon doll, stay home and cuddle with me...”

your eyes soften at your boyfriend's smooth voice, before the same thing that happens every time there's even the slightest chance of rain or the tiniest bit of appearance of gray clouds in the sky happens once more— you sigh, looking at sunarin with a you-win expression on your face. “fine, but only because i'm cold and am actually looking for an excuse to be lazy today..”

he tugs you back to bed in one swift motion and encases you in his arms. he wraps the blanket around both of you and nuzzles his head into your neck. he starts peppering kisses all over your neck and face, sending tingling sensations all over your body and warmth in your heart.

“yeah, totally not ‘cos you just wanna cuddle your hot as fuck boyfriend.” he teases.

you giggle as he presses a sweet kiss on your lips, his fox eyes lovingly gazing into yours. “yeah, totally not that.”

--

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

25 Days of Christmas Masterlist

The season of giving 💜 Me giving back to all of you 💜

Event Explanation Here

Keep reading

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

Out of Style

-> Suna Rintaro x Fem!Reader

Chapter 2: Digitial Duet

Summary: The following night, Suna can't help but find himself lured by your online persona.

Content Warnings: celebrity au, rockstar!suna rintaro, actress!reader, online interactions, band dynamics, fluff, sexual undertones, mention of smoking, character study, sensual imagery, eventual smut

Word Count: 1.7k words

Author's Note: I'm ngl lead singer!atsumu does things to me.... also, bonus points for you if you guess what osamu, aran and kita's roles are in the band

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

Suna’s public account is filled with carefully curated images sent by his publicist, or sometimes it is simply just posted by a poor intern whose only job is analyzing and curating his online presence. He tried maintaining a sense of autonomy at first. After all, he only becomes a star after being on social media for quite a while. He quite liked it, the unseriousness of it all but too many sites have risen and fallen since then, and he’s realized he might be too old or too busy to get used to the new features.

So… Suna’s not one to spend a lot of time on social media, barring the one private Instagram account his sister, Reiko, set up for him. It’s private, it has the only photo ever posted on the account — a selfie of him and his sister from the same day she set the account up. She’s smiling at the camera, perfectly posed while he’s right behind her, his face is twisted, caught off guard. You could say he was objectively ugly in the photo.

Hmm? He stares down at the picture. Seems like he never really deleted it. He switches to his public account.

His eyes move to scan his phone screen for a brief second before he finds it. He’s still not used to how different everything is from the last time he used this app, and it’s only been two weeks. How can you change so much in so little time? And why would you even?

His finger taps to reach the search option, his fingers moving to type in your name. Immediately, he gets a list of results — a verified account on top with a profile picture of you. He looks at the rest of the accounts below yours, a list of fan accounts of you.

He clicks on your account.

When the screen finally opens, Suna is accosted by your familiar face, scattered across the range of tiny boxes.

He clicks on the first picture that catches his immediate eye, it’s a picture of you sitting outside an establishment. Your shoes are scattered beside you as you smile sweetly at the screen. He smiles.

Your profile actually looks like photos you are posting yourself, but well, so does his, he thinks. Frowning, he scrolls, and he scrolls. He feels like an intruder as his scrolling continues, but he can’t seem to stop for some reason. The photos are like a collection of your life — it’s full of photos of you, your friends, co-stars, your sister, and your cat. Sometimes, the occasional movie promotion, a fashion event, or something like that.

And then he stumbles upon it, it’s a photo of you wrapped in a blazer, as the rain pours in the foreground. And you — you’re twisting your head ever so slightly to address the camera directly with your eyes, and you manage to hold his eyes to yours for quite a well somehow. He can’t help but think if your lips are purposefully quirked with a ghost of a smile. He lingers far longer than he’d care to admit but eventually, he scrolls again, as one does.

Only to wash away his opinion of you, he says. Only to get accustomed and to get rid of this new feeling, he says.

He then stops at another picture, a promotional picture, but it’s not for your movie. It’s for this band. Scarlet Riot.

He remembers this band, during a meeting where his manager was very upset with the band for Scarlet Riot’s new single surpassing his band, Black Velvet’s single on the rankings. He remembers dozing off during the meeting and being forcefully woken up again, and again, and again until the manager had enough and sent him back home. He happily accepted.

He doesn’t know anything about Scarlet Riot, apart from the fact that they are apparently cut from the same cloth as his band but yes, he notices how there isn’t much visible. Not your face, not the guy’s face but he seems to be holding you and your very lightly covered body — just you in your bra, and your underwear to be candid.

The said faceless guy is clothed entirely with one hand grasping the small of your back, and the other one holding your leg up as you seem to lift it in tandem.

He immediately clicks off the post, switching to his official account as he searches for your profile.

His hands hover for a second over the send button before he clicks on it.

To be fair, he isn’t technically lying in his texts because he is now rewatching your movie to drown out the anticipation of your response, but at the moment he only had enough heed to hit send on the message then, and he didn’t know how long that would last.

He eyes his abandoned phone on the teak table in front of him, as he watches your movie. It currently has a conversation between two guys in the movie, and honestly, he couldn’t care less about them.

He couldn’t help it. He looked up the video, and he admits he can find himself agreeing with the rest of the 14 million people who seem to find the appeal. He pauses the video, and it pauses at a picture-worthy shot if he could say so himself — your eyes are heavy-lidded resulting in a sultry expression, akin to a languid panther moving through the tall grass, that makes something primal rake right beneath the confines of his body.

H clicks off from the video, turning off his phone as he unpauses your movie continuing to chomp on the rest of his pasta.

—

The next day, Suna found himself on auto-pilot making his way through the band's rehearsal studio. The place was cramped and confining — just as he secretly liked. It’s always overfilled with a diversified jumble of instruments, amps, and other recording equipment.

He adjusts his guitar strap as he began the process of plugging his instrument in. He’s early today, so it affords him the opportunity to observe as his bandmates and studio staff trickle in, one by one, as he sips on his coffee. He’s not usually a fan of hot beverages, preferring cooler, or lukewarm drinks but today, he needs the searing warmth to keep him from biting off his bandmates’ heads.

Atsumu, the drummer, finally saunters in with his signature impish grin that sent a surge of irritation coursing through Suna's veins. It’s just lack of sleep talking, he reassures himself as Atsumu takes a seat near him seating himself behind the drum set.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," Atsumu quipped, his voice cutting through the studio's ambient hum Suna grew comfortable in.

Suna's retort was swift, a deadpan stare, as he took another sip. "Don't call me that.”

“Well, you look the part.” Atsumu remained undeterred, as he reclined against the seat, a smirk etched upon his features.

Suna doesn’t respond, his attention returning to the coffee cup, as he took another sip.

“Where's everyone else?” Suna set aside the guitar, carefully placing his chair as he weaved through to discard the now-empty cup into the bin.

"Aran’s out for a smoke. Osamu’s stuck in traffic, surprise surprise. Kita’s at a shoot. He should be late today," Atsumu replied.

Suna's response was a barely discernible hum as he sat back in his chair. He occupied himself with tuning his guitar, his fingers moving with practiced familiarity, attuned to the nuances of each string.

They continued to wait in silence, Atsumu’s soft humming withheld. Not that Suna particularly took issue with it, in fact, it was a bit soothing to exist in his space, until Atsumu spoke again that is.

"So, you seemed to have an interesting night.” Atsumu's tone was teasing, his words laden with an underlying implication that Suna found distinctly annoying.

A warning glint flickered through Suna's eyes, his response lax but firm. "No idea what you’re talking about."

Atsumu leaned back against his seat, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, come on now. We all saw you last night. Never knew you could physically bring yourself to smile."

Suna's eyes narrowed. “We were just talking.”

Atsumu barely hummed in response, but Suna’s annoyance seemed to seep back under his skin – he didn't want to engage in this conversation, especially not with Atsumu, who generally had a talented knack for pushing his buttons early in the morning.

Atsumu waggled his eyebrows as they raise up. "So, what kind of talkin' were ya doin', hmm?"

Suna shot a sharp look at Atsumu, his fingers pausing his task on the guitar. "None of your business."

“Okay,” Atsumu responds and Suna’s relieved. For all his many complaints about Atsumu, he truly does know how to read people, and as much as he seemed to like pushing boundaries, he never truly seemed to cross them.

“Just be careful,” Atsumu speaks up, Atsumu's tone was tinged with a rare sincerity. Suna finds it a bit too jarring like he’s an alternate reality.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just — Relationships with other people like us never truly work out, ya know.”

“I know,” Suna responds, as his eyes flit down to his guitar. Suna's fingers slipped on the strings, creating a dissonant sound.

Atsumu sighs as his voice comes out in a subdued murmur, “I should know better than anyone,” before Osamu's voice carries from outside to inside the studio, disrupting the momentary exchange.

Osamu walks through pushing the entry door as he stomps over to where they are.

“Get off my seat, ya imp,” he says, tossing his back to the side before he proceeds to push Atsumu off the chair, and almost like he was slapped out of it — Atsumu’s back to his usual self as his hands rise up to pull Osamu’s hair.

At the backdrop of the familiar dance between Osamu and Atsumu, Suna pulls out of his phone and the muted buzz against his thigh.

Ping! His eyes flit up to the top of his phone. It’s you. He clicks on the notification.

yn_ln : sorry i passed out but wow, flattery and a movie review?

yn_ln : i'm honored

Suna smirks as he taps on the screen. His fingers seem to type out a reply before he's even fully aware of it.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

001. — came and went.

content. unprotected sex, use of petnames.

high pitched, pained whines echoed throughout the familiar bedroom, the slapping of skin and breathy moans contrasting your lewd mewls. your hands firmly planted on suna’s sculpted chest, his own gripping onto your waist and hips as he pounds into you, relentlessly bucking his hips as you ride, his tip reaching your g-spot each time.

the bed beneath you creeked and rattled in sync with your motions and you’re almost certain suna’s neighbours would file another noise complaint later that night.

“fuuckk, rinn..” your eyes glazed over as suna’s cock slammed into your puffy pussy once more, “you’re— mmph! too big..” suna loved whenever you rode his dick, the feeling of your tight cunt clenched around his cock was almost enough to make him cum on the spot.

“i know pretty girl,” he grunted in between heaving breaths, his hands ghosting over your curves and causing you to flinch at the sensation, “you gotta take it all though. you can, mm, do that f’me, right?” you vaguely jerked your head response, too fucked out of your mind to give a verbal answer as suna continued slamming you down onto his dick, every thrust of his sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body, eliciting the lewdest of sounds from you to his amusement.

“thaat’s right, princess..” he smirked at hearing your erotic moans and pleads for him, pounding deeper into your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure, tits bouncing the harder he slammed his cock into you. “that’s what i wanna hear.”

his grip on your hips grew tighter as he felt his climax approaching, exhaling sharply at how easily his dick slid in and out of your drooling cunt, he could get high off this feeling. seething through gritted teeth, eyebrows furrowing as his body tensed up from pressure building up and the both of your moans becoming more ragged by the second.

“fuck, fuck, fuck— rin!!”

suna felt himself getting harder just from the way you moaned his name. it was lewd, whiney, and desperate, and his chest swelled with pride that he was the one making you feel like this.

“shit, princess, you’re so damn tight.” the pace of his thrusts picked up in speed as you the sound of skin slapping rang throughout both of your ears, seemingly getting louder as you both got closer to your climax. you frantically squeezed your pussy around his dick in a desperate attempt to push yourself over the edge of release, feeling yourself coming undone as you tried to match his pace.

“ah, it’s t-too much for me rin!”

suna knew you wouldn’t hold on for much longer, “cream all over my dick for me,” he seethed through his teeth, pounding into you so hard your back arched towards the ceiling, “make a mess on my cock like the slut you are.” at those words you felt your mind go blank, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as your whole body shuddered and spasm, the knot in your stomach unravelling itself as you came undone atop of him.

the sight of your hot cum spilling out of your tight pussy was enough to drive suna mad with the sudden adrenaline spike, “mmf- fuck! princess, i’m cumming!” with one final thrust he hammered his cock into your pussy once more, letting his own cum mix with yours inside your wet cunt as he collapsed into the pillows of his bed, pulling you down with him to lay atop his chest.

the room felt quiet for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the two of you remaining still as you took a moment to come down from your highs. quiet breathing and raspy pants replacing the once obnoxiously loud moans that filled the room previously as suna captured your lips in a lazy kiss, playing with your nipples as you tangled your hands in his disheveled hair, pulling on it to illicit a low chuckle from him.

he smiled into the kiss when you moaned into his mouth at the way he rubbed your nipple between his fingertips, “if you keep makin’ those noises, princess,” he warned you playfully, “we might have to go for round two.”

“fuck no,” you muttered, still sloppily making out with him while you slowly returned to your senses, “i have, mm, a class tomorrow i can’t, mphh, miss.” suna pouted childishly, “can’t you make an exception for me, princess?” he pleaded, detaching himself from your lips and trailing hickeys down your neck, “i’m horny, you’re horny, works out for us both.”

you pulled his head away from you by the hair and shot him a look as he whined, “stop that, i can’t cover those completely if you put em’ somewhere obvious.”

“that’s the point,” he chuckled, eyes gazing down at your naked figure, feeling his dick still twitching while inside of you. “mm, you should’ve come here earlier, pretty. we could’ve gone a couple more rounds if we had more time.”

he let out a groan as you get off of him, the warmth from your pussy vanishing almost immediately, hissing from the rush of cool air hitting him at once as he grabbed a blanket to cover himself. “i cancelled plans to go out with a friend to shinjuku for you,” your legs felt like they were going to give out as you tried to walk towards his bathroom, “be glad i even came here tonight.”

suna hummed quietly in thought as you took a quick shower, straddling a chair in his room with his arms crossed over the back by the time you came out and started picking up your strewn away clothes from the floor. “what’s the rush?” he asked curiously, hunched over while watching you quickly begin redressing.

“your brothers are coming back soon,” you reminded him, “and i don’t want them to see me naked.”

“i would.” you dropped your pants startled before quickly pulling them back up as suna lightly chuckled at your reaction, “shut up.”

before you reached the door suna grabbed your hand and turned you around, asking, “are we still on for tomorrow?” hesitantly, you shook your head. “i’m studying with someone tomorrow.” suna’s usually lazy eyes narrowed slightly at that response, his interest suddenly piquing.

“who are you studying with?”

“some guy from my comp sci class,” you curtly told him, pulling your hand out of his and walking out of the house without sparing a second glance behind your back. “i’ll see you later, suna.”

suna watched through the doorway as you made it down the walkway, waiting until he saw you cross the street into the main campus before his shoulders relaxed and he shut the door.

ꕥ masterlist. ↺ previous. ➛ next.

cardinal rule number one of university ; don't fuck your classmates. unless they happen to have something you want.

SUMMARY friends with benefits? more accurately fuck buddies with perks. to get the most out of your time, you're picky about who you fuck and why.

kita from comp sci is the smartest student on campus. suna from gen chem is fun to be around. atsumu from physics is the best fuck of your life. and osamu from biochem is a damn good cook.

all different classes, all different bonuses. no strings attached, you thought you had nothing to worry about.

"you know suna?

"why do you know suna? how do you know suna??"

MISC.

— when reader said suna’s brothers were coming back, she meant his fraternity brothers.

— it doesn’t actually take bokuto and akaashi fifteen minutes to get from their dorm to reader’s, but bokuto tends to get lost around campus.

— kuroo (and bokuto) call reader princess to make fun of them because that’s what suna calls them in bed.

— kuroo lives off campus and commutes to school, everyone else lives on campus. his classes aren’t everyday but he still tries to commute everyday to make social connections and attend internships.

TAGLIST: @mcdonaldsnumberone, @tkooooop, @marie-is-in-the-dark, @alienvarmint, @alpha-mommy69, @jaynawayna, @hrtsaeko, @razberrywrites, @pansexualproblemchild

if your user is in black i couldn’t tag you ! :(

likes and reblogs appreciated ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

© TOKIYOVIE 2023 - please do not repost, copy or edit my works.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

The things that I would do for him to be real is insane

rintarou suna who drops everything he’s doing the second you tell him you want him to fuck you. the second he hears the words leave your lips, whatever he was holding has dropped to the floor and he’s taken the clothes off of both of you in a matter of seconds.

“rin, i really need you to fuck me. so very bad, please just fuck me”

eyes wide and pants tightened, he puts everything on hold to make sure his pretty baby gets to cum.

rintarou suna who keeps as open of a mind as possible when it comes to what you want him to do to you. willing to do almost anything you ask of him.

rintarou suna whose fingers feel oh so good when they’re buried deep inside you, moving or not, just filling up your needy pussy for your pleasure. his fingers feel amazing inside of you whether he’s finger fucking you stupid, or just resting his long, skilled digits inside your pretty little hole.

you absolutely adore the feeling of his fingers buried deep inside of you, the soft pads of his fingertips brushing against your gspot every once in awhile just to remind you that it’s his fingers you asked to have shoved inside of you to help you relax. his fingers you wanted to sit your pretty pussy right down on while you read your book peacefully. quietly sitting and annotating your brand new book, faint music coming from the record player beside your bed, sitting with your beautiful boyfriend behind you, and his beautiful fingers in your dripping cunt.

or after he’s done fucking you senseless and insists it’s time for bed because his pretty little princess deserves her beauty sleep, when you know you have to be done fucking but you don’t want him to leave your needy little hole just yet. when you ask rintarou to let you sleep with his gorgeous fingers shoved deep inside your pussy, a relaxing way to fall into dreams knowing that a part of your boyfriend is still inside your body even as you move into dreamland.

rintarou suna who sucks the cum off of his fingers hungrily after every orgasm you let leak onto them. he’ll lick up every last drop of his favorite taste, and shamelessly hold eye contact while providing a very long, very slow, very taunting lick up your pussy, giving your clit a pretty nibble and a kiss.

rintarou suna who loves his pretty girlfriend,and everything she has to offer.

and he secretly likes sleeping, reading, watching movies, and doing everyday tasks with his slender fingers stuffed up your hole as if it’s nothing, because it serves as a damn good reminder that you’re his and he could make you cum at any second.

rintarou suna who would give anything to make his lovely girl’s pussy feel good, as long as she gets only the best orgasms.

tag words

suna, rintarou, haikyuu smut, haikyu smut, rintaro suna, inarizaki smut

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

Dear friends of Tumblr,

Today at my school we had an assembly about internet predators and when I had said that most of my true friends are over the internet and they gave me a lecture about how “I don’t know who I’m talking to” blah blah. So please, if you aren’t a predator in any way, please reblog so i can prove a point.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

no please bc just once I wanna make hobie nervous flustered.. like why can’t he can’t be intimated by me why I always gotta be intimidated by him 🙄🙄

TRULLLYY The opportunities are endless!! Let's talk about it!!!!!!!!!!!

Hobie Brown Loves Feminists and Defying the Patriarchy aka Hobie Brown and Writing write Non-Conventional Romantic Relationships in 'x-readers'

[this is an analysis where I analyze Hobie Brown, non-conventional relationships, and how feminism factors in to it all. Basically a critique/dive/rant into the narrow 'x-reader culture' in the Hobie Fandom

I touch on issues in Smut, labels, and how we can write 'Y/N's that challenge that status quo and fit Hobie better. I also break down how I personally use feminist themes to write a non-conventional relationship for Hobie.] [Also there's now a PART 2 HERE]

Despite the man from the 1970's - the era of bra-burning second-wave feminism - I don't ever think I've seen anyone talk about it, him, and how it influences him.

We all know Hobie isn't down with labels, but it seems like in X-Fem!Reader, the only two options out there are play-boy guitarist and traditional out-of-the-box boyfriend.

Hobie. The man he follows no social quo. Don't expect flowers from him.

Hobie diverges from the norm in nearly every way, and he does it purposefully and intentionally. And I think that'd extend to his romantic relationships too.

So why do we only see him in heteronormative, traditional gender-role based relationships?

Would Hobie be into this? And does the way we write him and his relationships in x-writers serve Hobie emotionally, allowing him to be a full character? (No, they don't.)

How can begin to acknowledge that, just like Hobie cares about race, and class, and housing and queer rights - he'd care about feminism too.

And how would that influence him in romance? How can we start writing healthier x-reader's?

We have enough insecure, blushing 'Y/N's being woo'd by [insert tumblr sexy man]'. Hobie can have so much more - in the words of Beyonce "Where the ladies up in here who like to talk back?!"

Hobie Brown, Romance, and Gender Roles

Why can I be the one calling him 'love', and 'darling', and 'sweetheart'?

Where's the fic where I'm the one comforting and taking care of him when he's sick/down?

Why can't Hobie be the one asked to be held?

There's something lacking here!!!!!!!

I honestly think Hobie would be into it, and find it very attractive - having a feminine partner who defies gender roles in their relationship purposefully and proudly.

Hobie loves subverting expectations and challenging society. So, and seeing many people unthinkingly assume he'd have a completely normal, routine heterosexual relationship without question -- uhhh I don't like that!!!

Like, Hobie is very clearly attractive. He's like 6'5", a guitarist, and punk. Let's be real, people of any gender are gonna be flirting with him, whether he's into it or not. He without a doubt gets flirted at all the time.

I think he'd love someone who cuts the bullshit and is like "You're really cute. I've got the biggest crush on you."

Not in a pushy way, but a relaxed way.

But I hardly ever see the x-reader advances being initiated by the reader. Why? It can be really nice to take the confidence to ask someone out and they say yes.

In fact, a lot of x-readers are written demure, passive, and down-right unhealthy in their ability to defend themselves and stand alone. So many are based off the x reader needing Hobie for some reason, whether it be confidence, or protection, or for him to teach them something.

Never Hobie needing the reader for something. Never Hobie being the one to express emotion and need comfort.

Which is funny, because Hobie can show emotions like anger, which he does in the comics. That's NEVER brought up in fics. In no fic do we have the reader witness Hobie hitting someone with a guitar or kicking them in the face. Which Hobie does do.

No, that's too violent for the romanticized fandom of Hobie. He has to be the good boyfriend to the shy girlfriend.

And I feel like there's a reason many of these x-readers are written this way - is heteronormativity and a dash of misogyny-flavored sexism involved??? maybe.

Especially with x fem readers, feminine people are always expected to be passive and submissive. Women in the real world are expected to mute their advances and 'be coy' for the sake of sexist 'respectability'.

We're taught that 'giving them the eyes' is (somehow??) an 'advance'. Or that you have to wait to be asked out or else you're 'too forward'.

[Insert Barbie Movie Monologue here]

Personally, I think Hobie would be SO refreshed by a girl who comes up to him and is like "Hey, are you busy on Friday? Do you wanna meet me then? I wanna go on a date with you."

Because, realistically 95% of the people in the Hobie fandom - including me - would probably be too nervous to even speak a sentence to Hobie.

So for someone to approach him directly, state their intentions, and be so open to potential rejection, that's impressive - I think he'd LOVE that shit!!!

I think it's a nice juxtaposition to have him with someone who diverges from the 'demure ideal of a girlfriend'.

A girl who walks around like Jessica Drew. Walks in the room like "My man is SEXY AF and he about to walk in so LOOK. BE JEALOUS."

I imagine so many people around him try to act like they DON'T like Hobie when they clearly do - and he can tell. So to have someone who isn't hiding it is a kind of candidness that differs from it all.

So often are women forced into the passive role of waiting to be 'chosen'. Fuck that, you want him, go get him.

Hobie, Romance, and Labels

I also think Hobie would REALLY like a partner who knows what they want.

I always see people be like 'Hobie doesn't like labels!! He wants to keep it casual!' or 'Nooo he was kidding about the labels thing - he'd love a committe-'

WHO SAYS HE'D BE THE ONE DEFINING THE SITUATION????????? WHO SAID HE GETS THE LAST SAY???!!!!!

I feel like Hobie would go fucking NUTS for a girl who is straight up like "yeah I'm just trying to fuck. Are you okay with that?" or "I like what we've got going on. I'm not looking for anything serious, but let's keep going."

Or a partner that is very clear about their labels. A person who's like "I like you but if you're not trying to be exclusive I'm gonna get a move on." Because he's not gonna have you out here looking DUMB, people better know you're in the mfing picture.

That's some grown ass shit! It shows she knows what she wants and that she's not wavering on it, even for him. He's with it. I don't think Hobie would be down to be like "I'm ur boyfriend now" OR "I'm ONLY down for fucking lol srry'.

She gets a say too. And she should be clear on what she wants.

If she's the one to take the initiative and name the game - that's great for him. He's down for whatever, what is it that YOU wanna do??

Hobie, Romance, and Intimacy (like for the grown folks 18+) __________________________________

🔞

In a LOT of fic and especially SMUT, it's always Hobie making the advances, or at least initiating them. In society, women are taught that's how is, that being sexually 'aggressive' and proactive - not just SUGGESTIVE - is inappropriate.

Wait till Hobie slaps your ass, then the smut could start. Wait till Hobie kisses you, then there's romance.

Nah, I'm the one smacking his ass. I'm the one pulling his belt loop saying Come 'ere. What if I'm the one who wants to pull him down for a first kiss, huh??? I gotta wait??

Even in dialogue-

In a lot of fics Hobie can talk as raunchy as ever, but the woman can't say 'pussy'? Hobie can say three sentences straight about how my coochie feel but the reader only gets to moan submissive requests back??

Can the dirty talk be two-sided? Because women should be allowed to be vocal in their pleasure.

Hobie can tell you he wants you to suck his dick, but when's the reader gonna say "Come eat this pussy like you mean it." HM??????

In fics the reader can only be suggestive - in order to bait him into initiating, like sending him a suggestive picture or throwing a bra on stage. But it's hardly ever the other way around. With the reader being the one to say 'Enough of the teasing, we fucking NEOW.'

Because in our society, a guy slipping a girl's shirt off to get the scene going is hot. But a woman going for a guys belt before he begins to undress her - nooo, that's too forward.

Maybe Hobie wants to feel like the sexy, desired, sought after one.

_______________________________________________

Hobie, Romance and Feminism

Let it be known: Hobie loves people who are socially educated!!!!

If you can look at him and explain what anarchism actually is - like in a politcal theory sense - I think he'd be impressed, because you're seeing through the 'pseudo-rockstar' persona he puts on.

Most if not all of his actions are choice are driven by political action, so having a partner educated in things like anarchy or communism just makes sense with him. Hobie cares about stuff like that, and actually goes out of his way to study and live in line with those ideals.

That includes feminism!!!

I think Hobie would love a girlfriend who is invested in feminism, cares about it, and thinks about it in her decision making.

A woman that is educated about her oppression and how to combat it, and purposefully goes against the strict stereotype labeled on women - especially feminine women - as an act of protest.

A girl who can and will defend herself, go off on, or put a sexist pig in their place. You can't tell me he wouldn't be into that.

Social movements of the oppressed are super important to Hobie, and I think feminism is the same, but I never see it mentioned.

I definitely think that Hobie would have a clear understanding of his privilege as a man and how that effects relationships.

I can see him being like "I'd never propose." Not because he hates labels, but because he acknowledges that for centuries marriage was used as a financial and social transaction to oppress and control women and their bodies, and he doesn't want to be involved in that.

Hit him with that "Same - the gold and diamond rings are trash anyway. Both materials being mined and pillaged in African nations for centuries at the expense of the indigenous populations really puts me off it."

He'd wanna somehow find a way to marry you without marrying you you know what i mean

Hobie loves feminism and feminists. Give him a 70's bra-burning feminism so help me god. He was alive for Roe v. Wade passing (1973), he KNOWS about feminism and probably knows many outspoken feminists.

Hobie, Romance and Individuality

You know what I don't like?

Headcanons or fics that be like "You and Hobie NEVER disagree or argue. Never ever, you always talk it out."

Like...Bullshit. I'm sorry but I don't think it's very realistic.

Hobie is a very opinionated too. He's very outspoken and when it comes to topics, and he usually knows exactly where he stands. I think, without a doubt he'd care what his partner thinks too.

Asking them about a record that's playing, or what they think of a movie they saw in the past, or a new political issue going on. He'd absolutely ask, because he cares. He's interested.

If if ya'll are never disagreeing that means:

Either you agree with his opinion all the time without fail or exception OR

You're biting your tongue around him

I don't think one is very realistic in terms of things. You can't like every song your boyfriend likes. You can't like every movie he shows you, or agree on EVERY political issue. That's not how people are.

And for two - if you're biting your tongue around him, he'll notice.

Yes, Hobie is a very emotionally intelligent person and extremely compassionate. But he's also very strong in his morals, thoughts, and beliefs. He doesn't budge.

If you're biting your tongue, I'd imagine he'd be like "You wanna say something." or "Whatever you're thinking just say it." cause he can see it in your face.

He's not trying to put you on the spot, he just wants to know what you're thinking.

When you explain what you're thinking, he's probably gonna wanna hear why, and respond, etc etc.

Hobie is a very individualistic person, and I think he'd be drawn to someone who is as well. Someone who is solid in their opinions and personhood enough to express them.

It leads to interesting conversation and knowing each other deeper -It's a form of intimacy.

If you watch a film with him and don't like it, he's gonna ask why. Did you not like the theme? Was the dialogue bad? What part did you think sucked the most, he thought x, y, z. What do you think about the part he disliked, did you notice a,b,c?

I feel like Hobie would want to know his partner deeply, and he'd care and love the things that make them different from each other.

Including differing opinions.

Discussions and debates aren't bad. Discussing something and getting heated defending your point can be really fun and stimulating, if it's with someone you care about and the two parties are mature and not assholes.

Tell him why you think he's wrong about something - he wants an excuse to talk more about his opinion. INTELLECTUALLY CHALLENGE HIM DONT JUST AGREE.

Along with being very individualistic, Hobie is very independent. He refused to rely on the Society for their watches - he made his own. So I think the next important thing to him is:

Hobie, Romance and Independence

I like the idea of Hobie having a partner that has their own place and is committed to that, and their space.

Or a partner that emotionally supports him!!

95% of the time, he's the one asking what's wrong, or holding reader, or comforting them.

Can we get hectic bf and organized girlfriend energy?? A gf where he says plans during missions and she's like "What are you thinking? You're gonna get us killed."

A gf that soothes HIM when he gets angry - cause comic Hobie GETS angry, especially after a fight.

Give me ONE, ONE fic where he's drunk coming from a pub and READER has to deal with drunk Hobie and put him to bed.

Hobie is ALWAYS expected to take care of himself, and the people around him. He takes pride in this and he's good at it. But why should he have to do it all the time?

_____________________________________________

In general,

Hobie is a confident person. He knows what he wants, and how to handle himself, and how to approach people and get respect just by being himself. He's assured, and outspoken, and VERY independent. He does what he wants, when he wants and lets you know when it happens

I think pairing him with a confident, assured, outspoked, independent person is only natural. I think him having a relationship with a personality like his would be a ROCK SOLID one.

There's be no fics like 'Groupies were bullying you' because his she would be like "Sis, if I swing on you he isn't gonna hold me back so be careful."

I want a reader that when they do that trope of 'A girl was flirting in front of him making you insecure and uncomfortable' - The reader squashes it right there. Like "Girl, I know you see me standing here. You know we're together. Cut the cute shit!!"

I'm tired of fics taking me for an insecure, submissive, demure, sexually innocent, wimp of a babydoll girlfriend that needs to be babied at every turn. There's nothing wrong with being shy and demure, but when it's all you're offering it's not gonna cut it.

Especially not for Hobie Brown.

Let the tall, dark, actively oppressed black man be the one to vent, or be held, or romanced, and spoken sweetly too. There's so many comfort fics, but not many of them consider Hobie's own trauma - and how a relationship could include that.

Hobie Brown deserves more.

_______________________________________________

If you wanna know how I use this to write a non-conventional relationship for Hobie, that's below this break.

Okay so I'mma leave it here but if you read this far, thank you!!!! I be SO pissed when fics be talking me (Y/N) as a punk (in the wimpy sense not the Hobie sense). Like...nah I wouldve said something in a lot of situations. Irk my last nerve. Like the one where the girl PINCHES you??? Like?? Nah I we would've been fighting, I'm sorry this is unrealistic

Alsooo the section below is about my Spidersona Disco-Spider and how I encorporated all of this into her creation- because I wanted to write a sona who subtly defied gender roles while still being feminine. So if you wanna read there thank you so much, and if not, thanks for reading this far! He's a pic of Hobie in thanks!

[If you wanna check out Part 2 for direct examples, how to write NCRs, and a more in depth look into Disco and Hobie - check it out here]

_______________________________________________

DiscoSpider Diane and The Great Groupie Act [How I use all of this to a write a feminist Spidersona and a non-conventional relationship]

Diane is a HUGE Hobie Groupie - and that's kinda of her main thing.

She runs the Hobie Brown Fanclub on campus, attends all his shows, and wears his guitar pick. She's into him and she's not afraid to show it.

I wanted to write Diane as a purposeful groupie, one who is fine with the title, and even leans into it. Because a lot of the time - and in a lot of fics including guitarists - 'groupie' is seen as a negative thing.

Like K-pop stans, being a 'groupie' - and openly expressing your romantic interest in a hot guy is seen as desperation.

But I wanted to write her as one in spite of this. To swap 'desperation' for unwavering boldness. A girl with the motto 'Closed mouths don't get fed'.

And much like Hobie uses the 'typical punk' label to disarm others, I wanted Diane to mirror that - in the opposite direction.

Diane is a self-proclaimed groupie. And because of that, many (mainly misogynists) assume that she can't think for herself - or at all. And Diane can use that to her advantage.

If Miguel and Jess really believe she only cares about conversations involving Hobie, then they'll talk like she isn't there. And she can listen. If it looks like she's hanging all over him, no one realizes if she's slipping him information.

And it also helps in their relationship.

They both enjoy their privacy.

HQ prohibits relationships between Spidey-people. It's an anomaly waiting to happen - and they make sure to keep a close eye out for it. Plus with Jess breathing down her neck, it's much easier for Diane and Hobie to just keep it underwraps.

In comes the Groupie persona.

No one actually expects the groupie to get the guy. She's desperate, and he's the player guitarist. Plus, if they were dating she couldn't be a 'groupie' right? They wouldn't make sense, would it?

They let people make their own assumptions. By calling herself a groupie, suddenly people think there's no possible way there's something going on, and they don't look closer.

This also allows them the freedom of no labels. Are they boyfriend and girlfriend? Nah she's his groupie. Quit asking questions.

All of this allows me to write Disco in a way that connects back to everything in this post.

By calling herself a 'Groupie' suddenly Diane can subvert expectations of affection, avoid the pressures of labels, and control her image and the amount of information she lets on to people

That in turn helps me write their relationship in a nonconventional way - a way that challenges misogyny around affection and reclaims a sexist fan trope for something more empowering.

Sure, the concept seems silly at first. The ditsy, bubbly, party girl on campus, but I wanted there to be a reason and drive behind it.

Disco-Spider Diane is exactly who she wants to be, an unapologetic, outspoken disco-girl. One that's highly educated and knows her shit.

And also a huge groupie.

-----------------------------------------------

If you've read this far, thank you so much. It genuinely means a lot to me! This is reaaaaaallly long.

[Part 2 here]

Now how about you take this photo of Hobie and we both pretend like me writing this is normal well-adjusted behavior okay? okay

Bye.

[xbl00dy-r0s3x]

How do you think Hobie would react if he bent down and his partner just started humping him from behind as a joke and then the partner quickly runs away before he can get them😂 I love your writing btw your really talented and I look forward to reading more 😊 oh and if you do respond could the partner be a girl and maybe you could like make it where he get payback if you know what I mean 😏. It’s up to you. Have a nice day! 😃

sorry for the wait anon!

HAVIN’ A LAUGH?

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: FLUFF, SUGGESTIVE

WORD COUNT: 0.4K

AUTHORS NOTE: IF I MAKE A PART 2 IT WILL HAVE HOBIES ‘REVENGE’

SYNOPSIS: THERES NO WAY HOBIE’S LETTING YOU GET OFF EASY AFTER THIS ONE

—

“There’s just no way you actually did that-“

“I did! I swear on my life!” You laugh, hitting Hobie’s arm playfully in the lobby as you recall the mission you just went on. You’re a mess, practically crying as you cling to his arm. Hobie can barely piece together your weird story but he’s gathered that you slapped an anomaly with an entire bunch of bananas that you grabbed from a market stall, completely peeling all of them in the process and coating the anomaly in crushed banana. You were a fruity mess after the battle in a tropical dimension and Hobie was laughing at how hard you were laughing,

“Oh god, i’m so hungry now though! All that beautiful food that I didn’t even get an opportunity to appreciate!” You tsk, walking into the cafeteria with Hobie by your side. He picked up a tray with you and picked out his food as you did when he dropped a bag of chips,

“Aw shit, my fucking crisps…” Hobie groans after the bag falls, indefinitely crushing some of the contents inside. He’s setting his tray down to pick it up when his eye twitches at the sound of you stifling a giggle,

“Don’t-“

“Did you just say crisps? Nah man, get that British tomfoolery out of here!” You nearly cry, laughing your head off as Hobie shakes his head at you, clicking his tongue,

“You really want to play these games, Y/N? What’dyou want me to call em eh? Chips?” Hobie playfully argues, putting on your accent to mock you, and poking your side. You laugh uncontrollably at his annoyed state, your eyes glinting mischievously as he bends down in front of you to grab the bag. Without a second thought, you grab his small waist and hump him right in the cafeteria, your hips slamming into his ass and nearly sending him face forward into the ground,

“Giddy up!” You holler with a mock-southern accent. Hobie flinches and scoffs in disbelief as you take off out the doors, his jaw open and a smile creeping onto his features,

“You havin’ a laugh?” He yells after you, wiping the smile off his face with his hands before he sets the chips on his tray and takes off after you, the whole cafeteria in complete awe at what they just witnessed.

Web-Slinger and his horse eat in the corner of the room, and he shakes his head,

“Amateurs.”

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri @lasagnaisbest @deepzombieyouth