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#suna rintarō x reader
a-wildemusing · 2 years
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telling suna “we should kiss and hold hands.”
a/n: (all characters mentioned are timeskip them) this will be the last one of this text series bc it’s starting to be a little repetitive in my opinion. And bc it’s the last one I wanted to go all out. so there is a small written part at the end. lol ~for more~
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~bonus~
Atsumu: I guess we’re not hanging out anymore. 
The twins watched as Suna pulls you out the door. Atsumu slightly scooted closer to Osamu, taking some of the spot you were sitting between the twins.
Osamu: Ya no. 
Osamu grabbed more popcorn.
Atsumu: He better properly confess.
The twins look at each other and shook their heads. Then their focus went back to the movie they were watching.
*a good while later*
Suna and you walk back into the the room holding hands. A slight blush on both of yours and his cheeks. As well as slight swollen lips.
Osamu: And they’re back.
Suna: I did it.
Atsumu: Congrats. Now can we finish this movie.
You nodded, and Osamu scoots closer to his brother, giving you space to sit next to Suna.
The rest of the movie was a slight blur. Your mind was too occupied by the way Suna was playing with your hand. And to be honest, Suna couldn’t pay any attention either. He was too focus on how the corner of your lips would slightly upturn every now and then. Suna having a good idea what you were thinking and it sure wasn’t the movie.
bonus bonus~
It was Atsumu’s idea to call you. He wanted to rub it in, how much fun they are having. And also wanted to hear what drunk Suna would tell you. He knows that the both you and Suna had feeling for each other. And he knew that it would be funny to hear that conversation. He really didn’t expect that Suna would start his drunk confession by saying that he didn’t want to be friends anymore. And he didn’t expect the long pause Suna would take as well making it seem like a whole different conversation. But at the end of it, Atsumu had a sense of pride. He was just glad that he was somewhat part of how his two best friends got together. Osamu, on the other hand, was only there for the drama. lol but he is happy for you.
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sukirichi · 2 years
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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 007 ]
“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”
c/w. modern royal au. infidelity. angst. gaslighting. toxic characters. suggestive. toxic relationships. mentions of neglect and abuse. hurt and comfort. it’s cringy when suna calls us ‘my love.’ half heartedly edited.
notes. this chapter is dedicated to all my fellow oikawa fuckers, enjoy <33 i’m really in love with how deep his character can be like lowkey he has more personality (as of now) than rintaro lol
series masterlist | next
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[ SEVEN ] i know you don’t really see my worth. you think you’re the last guy on earth, well, i’ve got news for you. i know i’m not that strong, but it won’t take long
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 “Would you stop pacing?” Prince Tooru reprimanded. His wife, the ever-so-sweet Maiko, jumped a little at the sting of his voice. She was no longer an alien to his harshness, nor was it anything new for her the way he sent daggers her direction. “It’s an eyesore.”
“My apologies, Your Highness. I just... I’m extremely worried for the Princess.”
The Prince kept flicking through the television. However, behind his uncaring facade, he shared the same sentiments as her. Everyone would be lying if they said the entire manor hadn’t been deadly quiet the entire night, save for the hushed whispers between your servants appalled by Rintaro’s display. Tooru was actually impressed they hadn’t called your parents by now. Your servants watched you grow up and had been loyal to your family for years, yet not a single one of them stopped the Crown Prince from dragging their precious Princess like she was nothing but prey. Then again, Tooru mused, maids from a noble family would never go against the crown.
“You heard what Kiyoomi said. The Princess wants space, and Suna will not let us step a foot outside either. We have no choice but to await her return.”
“Would she even return?”
Hearing the scuffle of her feet rubbing against the carpet one more time, Tooru dragged a palm down his face. “Look. I cannot answer your questions, so can we please just go to sleep?” Sleep, of course, meaning that Prince Tooru enjoyed the luxury of your guest room’s king-sized bed while his wife remained on the couch. Hell, he was kind enough to share the same room as her.
Unbothered by the Prince’s nonchalance, Maiko gazed at her feet and fiddled with her fingers.
“Your Highness, I-I know this sounds far-fetched of me, but would you grant me a small favour? I promise I would repay you generously—”
“If you offer to leave me the fuck alone for a month, I might consider it.”
Maiko’s head snapped up. Her husband held no trace of remorse on his face as he pulled the blankets under his chin, handsome as usual—as all the Princes were—even with his eyes peacefully closed. Such a sight made him look unbelievably gentle with the way soft, brown strands of hair brushed over his forehead. And Maiko, poor Maiko who never learned, had no choice but to swallow her pride and give in to the Prince’s request. Whether it was because she had been in love him with him for the longest time and this was the first, possibly last, chance he would ever hear out, Maiko prioritized your well-being over anything else.
“I...Of course, Your Highness. If it is what you wish.”
Tooru raised a brow in disbelief, eyes narrowed at his wife’s sagging shoulders. Just like that? Ah, but he wasn’t complaining. “Fine. What do you want?”
“Please find the Princess. O-Or at least check up on her, talk to her or something. Anything would be of great help as long as she knew she does not have to face this alone. The Princess is having a hard time and it breaks my heart to imagine she is all by herself—”
“Why don’t you go yourself if you care so badly?”
“Because...” Maiko frowned, “If the Crown Prince catches me, I am done for. He might be far more merciful to you considering you are his brother.”
“That is hilarious,” Tooru couldn’t hold back a guffaw. “You think Rintaro would be less bothered if his brother sought out his damsel in distress of a wife? Oh, how gold. Has it not crossed your mind that Rintaro is oddly possessive over his wife? He thinks either Kiyoomi and I will snag her up.”
“But you will not, so—”
“What if I did, hm?” he challenged. Instantly, Maiko held her breath, awaiting the threat—or rather the possibility—that Tooru didn’t jester. He had always made it clear how he didn’t want her. Expressing at any opportunity he could take about his desire to have had the privilege to choose who he could have been married to, and Maiko knew exactly what he was doing. The Prince, just like now, was simply reminding her the consequences of her actions. But she must have been a true masochist as she remained mum in her spot the longer he continued, sitting up now and tilting his head with a smirk. “The Princess is gorgeous. I could easily choose her over you any day, so let me ask—would you still want me to find her and lend her a shoulder to cry on?”
Be strong, Maiko—was what she must be thinking. And honestly? Tooru thought it was complete, utter bullshit. She could plant her feet on the ground as solidly as she could, but he refused to have his bones buried next to hers.
Maiko had already taken his life.
He should choose his own death now, and if that meant slowly driving a dagger deep into her heart and carving out his to place into the mercy of your hands—because god forbid, you would be death of everyone someday—then Tooru would have no regrets. To have his fate intertwined with yours, whether the outcome may be bitter or would shatter him to pieces, would be honourable. A heaven in comparison to the hell bowing his head at him right now.
“We are family now, Your Highness. She needs us.”
“I take that as a yes?” Tooru mocked. He didn’t wait for her response as he was swiping his car keys off the counter the next second, his jacket shrugged on and halfway out the door before he sang, “As you wish, my dear.”
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There are some things Tooru would never admit out loud. One, how he grew up closest to Kiyoomi and Keiji out of their shared love for literature, and that those two brothers of his held one of his most embarrassing secrets on how Tooru loved romantic novels. Jane Austen? He personally booked a theatre all for himself just to watch the film adaptations of her works. Margaret Mitchell? Tooru had handmade notebooks buried deep within his study filled with his favourite lines from her in perfect cursive; the younger version of him fantasizing about what it felt like to yearn for somebody your being felt incomplete without them. Two, how grateful he was deep down that Maiko had asked him to find you, because truth be told, only Rintaro got in his way. He would have ran after you hours ago the moment his bastard brother returned to the manor without his wife in tow. But appearances must be kept, trouble must be avoided if it provided more conflict than entertainment, and looking at it now, Tooru didn’t quite regret his previous actions.
The pitch-black sky felt more comforting than haunting as he pulled out of the driveway and headed to town. Maiko informed him you were at your family’s bed and breakfast, quite possibly asleep, but fuck it, right? Tooru convinced himself he wasn’t doing this for his wife. Never for Maiko, but not quite for you, either. Other than having a miserably pretty face that wasn’t as adored as it should be, and a heart bigger than Maiko was capable of, Tooru came to a conclusion he was doing it for himself.
Yes, he was simply a bored prince. Dragged into the edge of the country with no phones to use since Maiko would just snoop around, and Rintaro didn’t help with the situation by driving everybody apart. Even Kiyoomi seemed more of a bore than usual. So yes, Tooru was fetching you for his own gain, because surely listening to a broken hearted woman weep about her woes sounded far more entertaining than pretending to be asleep back at the manor.
No. He did not care about you at all.
He does not care one bit as he found you minutes later, sulking like a little child on the swings under an old sycamore tree whose leaves danced amongst the wind. He would admit, however, that you were undeniably beautiful. You always had been.
With a fresh face that granted him the luxury of seeing how crestfallen, forlorn eyes could remain dull under the moonlight’s gleam, Tooru tightened his grip on the scotch bottle. He wondered how sadness could look so beguiling on someone—whatnot with the lines of your frown and the absence of light you usually emanated. You sat there unaware of his presence looming overhead of you before you kicked and up high you flew. Skirt flowing at the same time you finally turned your head to look up at the sky, eyes glistening with tears and kissable lips quivering with slow, shuddered breaths he knew held back a sob. Tooru couldn’t help but find it befitting how you would one day hold power over everyone, because you were capable of breaking hearts. You could ruin kingdoms and tear everything apart. Yet, Tooru also knew how gentle you could be. He had shared enough family dinners with you to grow envious—no matter if he was aware they were all a sham—with the way you and Rintaro would share knowing smiles with each other like you both spoke a secret language exclusive only for those who had experienced falling in love.
Was this why Rintaro was so adamant in keeping you?
Had his brother even looked at you this way?
You made princes like him who grew up skilled in the arts of swordsmanship and combat weak in the knees. All you had to do was keep kicking your feet and fly higher up in the air and Tooru wouldn’t have argued if somebody told him he saw a fairy that night. A fairy who shed tears for a man unworthy of it. A fairy who mourned for a love that was never hers and whose cries were as muted as the dumbfounded Prince tracing the shape of your lips with his eyes and wonders, what would his name sound like if you whispered it to his ears? Would it feel biblical if Tooru could also share a secret language with you and murmur it into the crevices of your palm in a promising kiss, or would your words curse him into a thoughtless follower who walked into his own demise? You would be his Queen, after all. You would be the one he would fight for his life with, and whose wishes would become his command—his only good reason for living.
“Fuck,” Tooru muttered under his breath as he leant against his car. He could already feel his heart pounding. And for what? The spine-chilling realization of—or more like could no longer deny—that he found his brother’s wife mesmerizing? “Fuck you, Rintaro. I don’t wanna be like you. I’m not stealing anybody’s wife.”
Tooru chanted those words in his head like a mantra.
He needed more than a bottle of alcohol to get him through the night without accidentally blurting anything stupid, which he was certain was the last thing you needed. Tonight, you needed a friend. You needed someone with genuine intentions after being cruelly dragged into a make believe story of Prince meets Beauty, only to wake up with an unfortunate twist of Beauty and the Beast where happy endings didn’t exist when Rintaro was the Beast through and through.
Tonight, you would not be Prince and Princess.
Tooru would come as himself, and with a clear of his throat, plastered on his infamous smirk. “The night is too good to spend alone, Your Highness. I am quite certain no lovely woman would envision their honeymoon to turn out this way.”
You halted your body from swinging up.
Eyes widening at the sight of the Fifth Prince in nothing but sleepwear and a coat, your mouth falls open. You must have remembered you were now a Princess and had to act properly in front of a royal blood that you sat up straight. The action had Tooru sucking in a sharp breath before making himself comfortable on the swing beside you, opting to stare out in the vast fields because his chest was fluttering at the look on your face. How relieved you seemed upon seeing him. Like he was your hero even if he was far from having heroic attributes, and Tooru bit the insides of his cheeks.
He loathed how that passing moment made him feel important and brought a tint to his cheeks.
“Your Highness,” you began, “Wh-What brings you here?”
“To comfort a certain lonely Princess,” he winked, and you respond with a surprised squeak. “What? Can’t believe that the most handsome Prince is now your knight in shining armour? Don’t flatter yourself, though. This will not be a daily occurrence and—”
“Thank you.” Ducking your head, you stare at your lap, and Tooru patiently waited for you to continue speaking. He could see your eyes water as you swallow audibly, “I...I did not think anyone would bother to come find me, much less you, my Prince. Out of everybody, I thought you might have cared the least, but forgive me for I was mistaken.”
“Well,” he shrugged, “Not everyone is as heartless as Rintaro. Not your fault too that you thought of me that way.”
The both of you share a knowing smile—his telling you that you would be alright, and you reciprocating a thankful one. A comfortable silence settled after that. None of you found the need to talk about anything when Tooru wasn’t the best at comforting, and you were more than satisfied for the company. It shocked him, though, how he unexpectedly ended up playing in the swings with his brother’s wife at three in the morning, surrounded by nothing but grass and the faint sounds of crickets chirping. The wind would occasionally hum, and so did you.
The intimate beginning of a core memory felt like a scene straight out of a novel, but Tooru knew better. As much as he cherished this moment of sharing a silence with somebody in a world filled with people demanding for answers and explanations, Tooru understood this moment would not last. He had to remind himself he wasn’t your Prince. You weren’t his Princess. You were both just royals stripped of their titles until they were reduced to nothing but humans at their rawest form—a Princess with a disloyal husband, a broken heart and pride, and him as a Prince who didn’t quite knew where he belonged. At least, Tooru knew his place, and maybe that was why it felt a bit wrong to be the one next to you this moment. You were newly married and should be having this emotional intimacy with your husband. Not his brother. It was a constant fight of push and pull in his brain of wanting to be greedy and have more for this, whatever the fuck this was, whatever the fuck it meant now that you were smiling to yourself without saying anything, but Tooru chose to be the bigger person and stop kicking his feet.
“Say,” he scrunched his nose, “The town is dead, and you look like you have a lot to get off your chest. What do you say about a drive up the hill? You can scream as much as you want there.”
“Scream? Why would I scream?”
“Curse out Rintaro. I do that a lot when he gets on my nerves.”
When you laughed at his words, Tooru had to stop himself from getting too ahead of himself. Surely, it didn’t mean anything at all that he just made a pretty Princess laugh, even if your laugh was so airy and sounded so nice he would have taken full credit of doing a job well done for being a temporary friend.
“That does not sound too bad. In fact, I know a spot.”
The spot being a ten minute walk up the hill, far enough to be hidden from the prying gaze despite everybody being asleep but close enough that Tooru could retrace the steps back to the town in fear you would get lost again. Not that he had to worry. You were already steps ahead of him, shoes looped into your fingers as your toes dug into the bare earth—the very spitting image of a woman he couldn’t have most with sparkling hair pins keeping the strands kissed by the wind at bay.
Right. He needed to look away.
You were not his to appreciate.
“How did you find me, Prince Tooru?” you asked when you’d both settled next to each other, knees slightly brushing with every relaxed move.
Prying his eyes away from your fingers spreading to let the blades of grass peek through the spaces, Tooru raised a shoulder. Stop, he chastised himself. Do not muse about how strong the soil must be that night to carry the unspoken sorrows that weighed heavier than earth itself. Do not put yourself into the shoes birthed with a responsibility you were not man enough to step in on.
“Let’s just say that my wife and I never really went to the shop centres. That was nothing but a lame excuse we had to tell her parents. Instead, I roamed around this lovely town of yours and wished earlier that this might as well be my spot—but of course, this has always been yours, isn’t it?” he attempted to lighten the mood, “You have a lovely view from here.”
While his view from his bedroom, up north in the Inarizaki Tower, granted him the vision of a god who saw all from the citizens rising early in the morning to mill about for work to children laughing as they chased each other outside their parents’ humble, little shops, nothing could have compared to the serenity of Greenville. Miles and miles of land rich with flowers and fruitful trees laid home to rows of grapevines; its scent so addicting the Prince might as well have gotten drunk from a single whiff. The land stretched overhead until the peak of the mountains along the edge allowed room for the sun to stretch its arms out in a few hours’ time. Crickets chirped. The wind sang a lullaby that put the people to sleep, and he had you next to him. Close enough he might have plucked out the flower tempting him nearby with its dulcet beauty and humorously recite you poetry like he was your lover if that would make you smile.
Unfortunately, you didn’t share the same sentiments as him. “I doubt anything could be lovely from now on.”
“Don’t let my brother get to you.”
“That is easy for you to say,” you exhaled, “You and your brothers all the same. We, as wives, never meant anything significant to your hearts. You throw us to the side away like we are lesser than dust. I doubt you could even understand my pain when you are clearly incapable of being a good husband with the inability to feel love.”
Biting back his tongue to ask “don’t you want to prove me wrong about that?”, Tooru blew a low whistle. “You don’t pull your punches, do you? That is harsh.”
“Well, I see no need to coddle you, my Prince. You are a grown man who needs to realize his own disgusting flaws.”
At any other day, Tooru would’ve taken the unnecessary projection of your own heartbreak out to him with disdain, but today was different. For his own entertainment, he would be a little kinder. A little more patient. So he let it slide, and masked his confused heart with the one thing he had perfected—the all-too-confident smile that made men and women weak in the knees. The smile that brought him to where he is now, married and unhappy.
“Oh, there is no need, Princess. I am more than well aware of what makes me terrible,” he admitted, “What my brother did was wrong. There is no excuse for his behaviour, but you must understand—this is all very common to us now. Rintaro was able to deceive you like that because he had seen it with his own eyes; how marriages needed to be successful politically but never romantically, and once he has a goal in mind, nothing is stopping him from achieving that,” it was more of a warning than a reminder, and Tooru snuck a glance to confirm if you understood where he was going. “Do not take it personally, Princess. Rintaro would have been a liar either way whether it was you or not that he first laid his eyes on.”
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“I am shit at comforting others—” a laugh was pulled from him before the Prince steals the bottle from your hands and takes a swig. “—but I do sincerely hope you stop crying now.”
His words had the opposite effect. Not even past the neck of the bottle, you choked before him in a fit of sniffles and sobs. Eyes puffy and red, lips wobbly and fingers angrily wiping away at the tears you desperately tried to conceal from his stupefied gaze. “What do you care whether I cry or not?”
Out of instinct, Tooru’s arm reached out to stop you from pinching your cheeks.
Slapped by logic, on the other hand, his arm retreated by itself because he was only here to comfort, not to reassure. And bound by the foolishness that was called the never-learning vulnerable heart, Tooru found himself in the middle of heaven and hell as he sighs. “Believe it or not, Princess, but I do care,” was his confession, though before you could ponder too much about it, the Prince was already hogging the scotch. “Implausible, is it not? But I do not blame you for it. I know I seem unable to care about others when I hate my own wife, even if she has been nothing but an angel to me.”
“So you know Princess Maiko adores you. Why do you not treat her with the same kindness, then?”
Princess Maiko again. It always had to circle back to her.
“She annoys me. She clings to me like an obsessed leech and demands affection when she knows I have no interest in reciprocating it,” he scoffed, “It is for her own good, though. There is no point to fool herself we can be happy together when I never wanted to be married. It is better to break her heart from the beginning than be sweet to her and get her hopes up.” The Prince held no room for argument. Palms leaning back on the grass, he extends his leg and crosses them as he glares at the sky like the darkness caused all this trouble. “No idea what anybody told you, but Princess Maiko and I were not married under the Queen’s choice. It was Maiko’s.”
“Princess Maiko...proposed to you?”
“Something like that. Maiko is a year younger than me, and naturally, since our families had close connections to each other, I grew up treating her like my little sister. She was always clumsy and stupid that I feared she’d get into trouble if not properly watched over. Little did I know that my concern for her would grow into being lovesick, and next thing I know, she is begging with the Queen to marry me. One thing led to another, the Queen saw potential in our union, and now here we are.”
“You make it sound like you had no choice in this, yet you still let her walk down that aisle. Are you sure you are not just using the Queen as an excuse?”
“If I did not marry Maiko, the Queen would have kicked me out the palace.”
“That is legal?”
Tooru wore a face that said beats me. “When there are too many Princes in a patriarchal monarchy, there will be hierarchy among our worth. The First Prince is already worthy to remain in the family as the eldest heir, and then Rintaro is the only child of the King and Queen. Prince Shinsuke will never have to worry about not being Prince when his mother plays a large role in the Kingdom as one of their best lawyers. The twins, too, come from a wealthy mother whose chain of businesses greatly benefits the palace. The youngest, Prince Tobio, is naturally adored by everybody else. He is given everything without having to ask for it. But the rest of us? We have to fight for our place in the dinner table. My clan is not exactly on good terms with the royal family, either.”
“But did you not say you did not care about being Prince?”
“I don’t. The duties of a Prince wears me out and I hate having to put on a facade all the time, but I have no place where I belong in,” his voice grew somber, the tips of his ears tinting red at the realization he was actually being vulnerable to someone who wasn’t his brother. Hell, he didn’t even trust his brothers anymore the night titles mattered more than familial bond, yet here he was. “My mother... her family does not accept me because she was a married woman who had me after having an affair with the King, and the King never looked at me once when I was born. He merely had me to establish ties with the Oikawa Clan, but when he realized my maternal grandparents barely recognized me as their own, I was useless to him. So as much as I despise being a Prince, it is the only way I can actually live. If not for my title, I would have already been sent to the streets.”
Tooru was quietly begging whatever gods looked down on him that you wouldn’t look at him with pity. The last thing he wanted was to be pitiful.
Sneaking a glance after a split second decision dissolved his worries, because you were far from seeing him as less. No, you glanced at him more out of curiosity. Like if he allowed you to give it more thought, you could magically have a solution. “Then...if you are not that important to them despite being an heir to one of three founding clans, why could Prince Kiyoomi not be important, as well? He is the Second Prince. Is that why he married Princess Iris—to ensure his title of a Prince?”
“Nobody knows why Iris and Kiyoomi got married, and neither will anyone of them talk about it. None of us were even invited to their wedding. We just woke up the next day and found out our brother had gotten married with minimal preparations, but it was all over the news. The Kingdom ate their marriage and claimed it to be a firmer peace treaty over Inarizaki and Itachiyama.”
You hid a sniffle.
“...How long has Prince Suna and Princess Iris been together?”
Tooru believed it was best you knew less. But the look on your face begged, pleaded to have that certain itch scratched that Tooru had to give in. “They met when they were in high school,” he supplied, albeit hesitantly, “Iris was a scholar of the royal family as her mother was a loyal follower of the Queen despite being born in Itachiyama, and Iris was an intelligent girl. They hit it off ever since, but drifted apart due to obvious reasons. Then they met again right after the wedding, and have been inseparable ever since.”
God. He really shouldn’t have said it. He had barely finished speaking before you pulled your knees up to your chest, head buried between your legs and sobs stifled in the eerie silence. “Oh my god. I look like a fool, don’t I? They’ve known each other forever.”
“None of this was your fault, Princess. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“It was my fault, though. I-I knew all this time,” you were full on sobbing by now. “I found out the night we announced our engagement. Ever since that day, I knew whatever we had was never real, but I proceeded with the wedding anyway because I hoped he would still look at me the same way. D-Do you have any idea how much it hurts to learn that you were never loved in the first place?”
Your voice cracked with every sharp breath. Fingers lifting to dig into your scalp deep enough the skin turned raw, and Tooru was immediately peeling your hands away from yourself. “Princess, breathe. Do not hurt yourself—”
“It kills me, Your Highness. I have never felt this pathetic before.”
“Princess...”
“I can’t stop looking in the mirror and find a warped reflection of myself staring back,” you wail and flick his arm away, like the thought of being touched by someone else repulsive. “Every day, I see nothing but my flaws and insecurities and think, is this why he doesn’t love me? Am I not pretty enough? Am I not good enough? Will I never compare to Iris? I feel so horribly ugly and disgusted of my own skin.”
“Don’t think that. You’re beautiful.”
“His Highness said otherwise—”
“My brother is fucking stupid for taking you for granted. If you were mine, I would have never made you feel like you were not good enough.”
Your head slowly turns to face him, the previous sobs now dwindling into little sniffles, but Tooru was already looking away. Downing his wine before you could say anything else. Drinking fast enough his brain felt muddled and there was an ache forming at the back of his head, but anything. Anything to escape the prying eyes wet with tears as the confession settled into the air.
He either fucked it up, or started a new chapter along the way.
The sound of you crying harder again brought him no answer.
“I w-wish...he thought the same way.”
What did it all mean? This moment... when you looked at him now, clinging to whatever hope was left in your love struck heart. When you looked at him now, smile flattened upon the mutual understanding that maybe this was what it meant. Not quite friendship, not quite partnership, not quite acquaintances—but the gentle promise that when the castle and its burdens grew too suffocating, you would have the Fifth Prince to run to out of the thousand others living under the grand halls of royalty. And if you had even the slightest inkling that perhaps Tooru might be growing too warm in a cold night, he was comforted enough by the fact you and him were as impossible as him and his wife.
Whatever attraction he held for you simply had to die. Whatever happened tonight stays within this spot closest to the stars in a quiet town called Greenville.
“Let him go,” was all Tooru could offer before his hand covered yours—that silly smile returning on his face again as if to say the pain would pass. “He’s stupid, anyway.”
“Right.” Finally, fucking finally, you smile brighter than he ever could. “He is stupid.”
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“What the fuck were you doing with my wife?”
No good thing ever lasted. It was a fact Tooru learned the hard way, and had to relearn once more when he brought you back ‘home.’ After an hour and a half more of sharing jokes that slowly, the both of you were forming your own secret language Rintaro would not be a part of, you decided to loosen up a bit and steal the rest of his drink. Well, he brought it for you, but he didn’t quite expect you to rummage around his own hidden stash in the car of flasks, only to be giggling and practically dead weight in his arms later on.
It was good until it lasted.
It was good until he showed up. Tooru hadn’t stopped scowling since your husband bundled you in his jacket and held you like you were a fragile woman in need of care. Sure, you could be, but if Rintaro knew it all along, why hadn’t he been more careful since the beginning? Tooru hated inconsistency. Hated lying out of everything—all of the traits his younger brother was an expert of.
It was absolutely revolting how he immediately took on the role of a concerned husband and carried you to bed when you passed out in his arms—like he hadn’t been the reason you felt the need to drink yourself to such a state.
“Only what you should have done.”
Rintaro grabbed him by the collar, their eyes levelled but neither giving in. “Don’t mess with me, Tooru. You think I don’t know what you’re doing, huh? Making my wife warm up to you so you can mess up everything I worked hard for?”
“I didn’t do shit. You ruined everything by yourself and you know it.”
“You still had no business going after her like that.”
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” gritting his teeth, Tooru shoved Rin back hard enough his back hit the doorframe. Although the impact didn’t cause too much of a sound, he still glanced your way to see if you had awoken before lowering his voice. “Your wife cried for hours. She could barely breathe well from how overwhelmed she is, and what were you doing? Oh, that’s right. Fucking your mistress while your wife wondered over and over again just what made her so unworthy of love in your eyes. It’s actually pathetic that such an amazing woman would shed these much tears over a man who can’t even tell her the truth about his malicious nature!”
Rintaro snickered, and it took all of Tooru’s patience to not punch his brother.
“Since when have you cared about the Princess?”
“Maybe we all do, Rintaro! Maybe every single one of us is tired that you and your mother are the exact same—you do nothing but manipulate people for your own gain and then wonder why your lives are so miserable! Your wife loves you, Rin. She would forgive you at the blink of an eye but it does not give you the right to abuse her kindness.”
“That is hypocritical coming from you. You talk as if you do not neglect your wife and leave her crying, too.”
“Maiko, Maiko, it’s always about stupid, fucking Maiko!” he fumed, “Don’t fucking pit me with you, asshole. You courted Princess Y/N for two years and had no intention of coming clean about your sins. Everybody knows I never wanted this marriage. It was Maiko who bound me with these shackles because she was obsessed with me!”
Rintaro was at a loss of words.
He, too, knew that in some way, Tooru had been better. Tooru had always been consistent over his disapproval of the marriage, and had no choice but to accept it in order to survive the harsh environment of the palace. But did Rintaro care?
Obviously not.
“Go back home. I don’t need you here.”
Tooru scoffed. “If it brings you any comfort—” with his back turned to his brother, he glared at him one last time on the way out. “I didn’t come here of my own volition. It was Maiko who requested me to go. Nobody’s out here stealing who isn’t theirs.” An excuse, a valid reason, a half truth—call it what you wanted. Tooru wasn’t sure himself either which one of it he truly meant when he could still smell your perfume all over him on the drive back to the manor.
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At one point in your life, you became a Princess before you married a Prince.
It happened that one fateful night. Where elites, nobles, royals, and all the important figures in the world gathered in a grandiose castle in celebration of a Prince’s eighteenth birthday. Naturally, as the daughter of two of the trusted followers of the throne, you had been invited. You could still picture it all clearly—the weeks ahead of preparation despite being a guest who would most likely befriend the shadows and be accompanied by the walls until the party ended. Still, your mother insisted you be dressed to the nines. Calling out for the best dressmakers to travel to Inarizaki with the sole purpose of transforming you into—as what your mother called —“a butterfly who attracted attention, but would be out of reach.”
You were close to telling your mother she would return home from the party disappointed. Unless she could accept you were more of a moth who clung to the unknown corners.
Not that you thought lowly of yourself, but you preferred the term... realistic. Yes, realistic was what you were. You simply accepted the fact you weren’t the prettiest, the most sociable, nor the most interesting woman to ever be attending these balls. Perhaps only slightly above average all thanks to the respectable status and money you were born with, but otherwise not as dreamy as your mother painted you out to be.
See, you weren’t the best dancer. Your mother had given up halfway into dancing classes once she realized you were a lost cause. Little did the both of you know, that from that night onwards, the young woman who had two left feet would someday master the art of dancing all to impress a certain Prince who wouldn’t stop looking at her that night.
His name was Suna Rintaro—the Crown Prince by birth.
And you had caught his eye.
In fact, you must have captured his entire attention and bewitched his whole being that he was unable to take his eyes off of you and pushed through the crowd, all to ask for a dance.
You said yes. He said you made him the happiest man that night.
“Truly?” he echoed, as if a gorgeous Prince like him ever experienced his dance invitations rejected before. “You would dance with me?”
“It would be my pleasure, Your Highness. I...I am not great at dancing though,” you began to stutter, palms growing damp behind the lace gloves. “Perhaps you ought to find somebody better? I am uncertain I am the best choice to dance with tonight—”
“You are the best choice,” the Prince grinned, and your heart skipped a beat in awe at how someone could be effortlessly charming. You barely even noticed he was already leading you to the dance floor until you felt a hundred pair of eyes on you. All these people who bore more importance and held heavier money in their pockets witnessed how the Prince slid his warm hand above your waist then, his smile just as soothing as the little finger rubs to ease your nerves. “You are—” he leant closer, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “The only one who I want to share this dance with.”
 You awoke with a jolt, heart pounding a mile a minute as the memory replayed in your head. Like a film caught on tape, you could still hear the violins singing at the top of their lungs, the cello hitting deep notes that vibrated within your bones. You could still feel the warmth of the Prince’s touch as he danced the night away with you. How gentle he had been to walk you out the gardens just to shyly murmur how he found you beautiful.
Beautiful.
Until suddenly you were not—or more like, you had never been beautiful to him.
“My love,” a voice—one that used to be comforting but now only brought pain—broke you out of your reverie. “I prepared breakfast for you. We should go downstairs and eat.”
Your husband, Rintaro, sat at the edge of your bed with a pinched frown. As if he was worried. He had no right to be, yet somehow, there was still that voice at the back of your head rejoicing in delight. Because he came. He came to find you. You woke up with him, and sure, it didn’t erase yesterday’s events, but could it mean something? You so badly wanted to reach out to him when his hand snaked across the mattress to find yours. Offering you a small squeeze. Looking so concerned you would have believed it all over again.
How was it possible someone could be both your happiness and torment?
No! your inner voice screamed at you. Don’t let him get close.
Blinking back the tears you hadn’t noticed arrived, you kicked the blankets off of you and trudged to the bathroom when you felt bile rise from your throat. Right. Such great timing. You were pushing the toilet lid up the next second, knees scraping against the floor as you emptied your stomach. Your head pounded as you did so, and you winced, remembering just now how Prince Tooru had visited and you drank yourself to your limit.
Which, obviously, was a decision you regretted making.
“My love!” Rintaro was behind you in an instant. He rubbed your back, held your hair up as you retched a few more times, and whispered sweet nothings that did nothing but to intensify that sick feeling in your stomach. “How much did you drink? I was so worried for you, honey—”
You slapped his hand away.
“Don’t call me that.”
If Rintaro looked defeated, he hid it extremely well. “Please. I only worry for you,” he helped you up on your feet. Fortunately for him, you were too wobbly on your own legs to complain. You quietly let him sit you on the closed toilet and sat down before you, his knees brushing against your bare feet and his handsome face deceitfully worn. “Listen...we can talk about it later, alright? You need to eat first before you get even more sick.”
“You are concerned over my well-being?”
“I am—”
“It did not feel like that yesterday.”
“Please. Let’s stop fighting.” How rare for the Crown Prince to beg, much say please more than once in a row. Wasn’t he too prideful for that?
As much as you basked in how this man was now on his knees for you, you didn’t trust yourself to not give in to whatever he asked of you. True as it was that it hurt, love didn’t disappear in a night. It wasn’t that easy to un-love someone you planned your whole life with. Of course, going back to that same hellish place he put you in would truly paint you the ignoramus, but you currently didn’t have the power to say no to him just yet. It was two years of being wired to please him at all costs. And it would take more than that to unlearn all the habits you’d formed just to align with who he wanted you to be.
But things would change now. It would no longer be the same, and you could only hope the next chapters of your life would bring about a better change.
Today marked the beginning of you detaching from your husband.
Pushing past him, you walked out with clenched fists. You would not cry in front of him now. You would not let him feel the satisfaction of how perfectly he’d executed his plan of wrapping himself around your finger until the end crashed you both. You would not let him see that you still loved him, still craved him, still fucking wished he would be genuine in comforting you and not because he had to keep you as his pliant wife.
No matter how hard it was, you needed to turn your back on him from now.
“Wait,” he grabbed you by the wrist, and you nearly collapsed on the spot from how much you yearned for his touch. “Where did you get this?”
He was pertaining to the scratches on your palm. The ones you got when he rudely pushed you off. “It’s nothing,” was all you supplied, however, because he didn’t need to know. Rintaro would feel guilty and just feed you honey-like words to thaw the ice in your heart. Soon, you would be putty in his arms again if you weren’t careful enough. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Of course I worry.” He said it like this should be obvious to you by now, and you scoffed.
“Why? Because I’m not the perfect Princess you want me to be anymore now that I have wounds?”
Rintaro’s lips puckered out. “Because I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You hurt me yesterday. Funny how fast your feelings change in the span of a night, no?” you grabbed your wrist before crossing your arms against your chest. “Is this how you always were? Kind one moment, ruthless the next? You put on so many faces and tell too many lies that I have no idea who I am talking to right now. So tell me—are you my husband who promised to take care of me and cherish me until death do us part, or are you the greedy Prince who manipulated me into marrying him?”
Rintaro does not respond. Instead, he manoeuvred around the cramped space of your bathroom and reaches for the first-aid kit on the top shelf. Your husband slowly unrolls the bandages before he takes your hand in his, touch butterfly like that you wondered if he was the same man who had been aggressive yesterday. Still, you waited with baited breath, unable to stop yourself from staring at him. And blessed he was with those hazel eyes who’d seen every ugly part of you yet stayed with you anyway—whether it was out of need or he actually cared sometimes to not mind—and that soft tuft of hair you loved running your hands to. Those lips who recited empty vows and kissed you like he meant it. That voice that made your legs quiver countless nights and now, these hands wrapping the bandages around your blistered palm with patience and grace you knew you had fallen in love with.
Tears sprung once again. Chest squeezing uncomfortably as you realized you still were, and still would, be hopelessly in love with Suna Rintaro. Heart shattering all over again when you began to accept your heart would be a chamber that hung him like an oil painting that never aged through the years. How your love would remain frozen in time along with his smiles, and you loved him so much you sometimes forget he did not love you at all.
He had someone else in his heart when yours cried out no one else’s name but his.
“Why her?” you croak out weakly, nursing your bandaged palm to your chest as you leant against the wall. Feeling your knees weaken little by little. “What does she have that I do not? Why did you love her...but not me?”
“I do not want to talk about it.”
“Why her, Rintaro?”
It was the first time you called him by his first name. The shock is apparent on his face, but Rintaro opted to shake his head before wrapping an arm around your waist. “We should eat first. Then, I will you tell everything.”
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Breakfast, while not entirely comfortable, wasn’t as terrible as you expected it to be. It was difficult to stay mad at him when you were greeted by the staff who wouldn’t stop gushing about how your husband stayed up the entire night to cook for you. The said man only blushed in response, seemingly embarrassed and continuously apologizing for the mess he made in the kitchen.
Now, if Rintaro was on a mission to mess with your heart even more, it definitely worked.
All your anger dissipated as you ate the rice soup. The breakfast wasn’t anything flashy, but it contained everything you needed after a hungover. Bananas, some sliced apples, a light soup and some ginger tea to help ease your nausea. Such simple food, yet seeing as how Rintaro grew up with a silver spoon and never had to cook anything in his life before, your husband took multiple attempts to perfect the soup into a plausible taste. Not that you would ever tell him since compliments seemed far and beyond in this already failing marriage. But... you supposed, you could give him some credit. You appreciated the effort, and thanked the staff generously before you both decided to just walk back home and talk.
Greeting people as you go, your husband kept trying to hold your hand. For appearance’s sake, or because he simply wanted to have you close, you didn’t ask anymore. You shoved your hands deep into your pockets and led him into a field of dandelions—one of your favourite places as a child. The bright yellows mixing in with the lush green, along with the fresh breeze, and it would have been picture perfect.
You always wanted to visit here with Rintaro. Tell him some childhood stories. It was something you had been dreaming of around the third month of your relationship, but now that you were here standing next to your husband, you didn’t quite feel the same elation.
“This place is beautiful,” he cut the silence and faces you with a soft smile. “Imagine one day, our kids would run here with us—”
“Why are you doing this to me, Your Highness? Do you take pleasure in my suffering?”
“Princess, I—” he sighed, “Let me explain.”
“Go ahead. Tell me everything from the start and I might be kind enough to understand where you come from.”
And tell you, he did. He told you everything. From how they met, to how he had always felt this ‘pull’ with her and smiled to himself dreamily because gravity pulled him to her; they had this magnetic force that they couldn’t stay away from each other. He told you about the dreams he shared with her. The plans they made. He listed down every little thing he loved about her and remained unaware that you stood there furiously blinking back tears, because you were the wife, and you had never felt so unloved at the face of someone who proclaimed his undying affection for a woman who was not his. He reminisced about how it all went downhill when Iris married Kiyoomi, how they were so lonely that they just found home in each other. He couldn’t help it, he said, I just knew I needed to do everything to make her mine.
We were meant for each other.
And you? Who were you meant for? Perhaps, you were destined for this sick, twisted fate where you felt like the outsider, the third party, the side character, in a story that was supposed to be yours? He looked so in love. And you knew, because you mirrored everything he felt about her. You knew because you looked the same way as he does now when you were in love, and it’s not you—it’s never going to be you. It was never supposed to be you. All you could do was smile bitterly when your husband uttered her name like she had cast a spell on him. Pretending with whatever strength you had left in you to be fine.
“You love her that much you were willing to sacrifice me for it?”
“...I—”
“Did you ever think about how this would make me feel? How-How I welcomed you into my home and told you about my deepest fears and-and none of that had been real? Was there a single moment where you stopped to think maybe you were hurting someone else all because you wanted to be with the woman you want?”
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But that is the thing, Your Highness, you already did. You cannot undo what has been done.”
“I know that,” Rintaro stepped forward, only to be greeted by you keeping the distance bigger. The crestfallen look on his face nearly made you feel bad. “I do not expect forgiveness from you, Your Highness. Absolutely not. But if we could compromise on something—”
“What would we compromise on?” you laughed without a trace of humour, “I love you. I married you because I love you, I care about you, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. You married me out of greed. You still wish to proceed with your plans which shows you truly do not care about me, so tell me, what is there to compromise about? I want my husband more than anything else, but that is the one thing you cannot give me.”
Rintaro shook his head. “No, no. I am still yours, Princess. Iris is not my wife, you are. You are the one who I will wake up to every morning, the one I will spend the rest of my life with. We can still do the things you wish for. Iris, she... she is not a selfish woman. She has always been kind enough to let me be with you for the greater good—”
You raised a palm in front of his face.
“Please stop talking.”
Was he defeated? No. Rintaro needed more than this blatant rejection of yours. If he had been that weak or gave up any easily, then he wouldn’t get where he was right now. But at this moment, you could have sworn he meant it when his shoulders fell and called out your name.
“Had we met earlier, I would have loved you first.”
“That just hurts me more.”
“I was, and am genuinely happy with you, my wife,” he reassured, but it didn’t stop making you cry. It didn’t ease the pain as Rintaro slowly encaged you in his embrace. Your tears staining his shirt and fists crumpling the material as you felt yourself die little by little. “Shh, Princess. Not a part of me regrets reciting my vows to you on that day in front of the entire kingdom. Believe it or not, but I adore you. I love listening to your stories and hearing you laugh, and-and you are kind. You are strong. You are an extremely beautiful and loving woman that I am the luckiest man in the world to have been your husband.”
“But you do not love me,” you cried harder, “You will never look at me the way you look at her.” When the Prince remained silent, so did you. He didn’t deny it this time—how you would never receive the same treatment as Iris. That fact alone had you pulling back to stare at your husband’s eyes.
“Does she make you happier than I do, Your Highness?”
Ignorance was bliss, indeed. If only you could turn back time and undo this moment where you stopped curiosity from getting the best of you, perhaps you would not be twice as heartbroken when Rintaro nodded. No hesitation in his features. Just pure love, and an ounce of regret and guilt from the way you slowly crumbled before him.
“Yes, she does. The Princess is my entire universe. I would be utterly devastated and lost without her.”
It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of your body. It became a challenge to speak, to feel the tips of your fingers as you stepped back one time, two time, three times until the distance was just as big as the hole he punctured through your heart. Now, you had enough. You had reached your limit, learned your lesson, been humbled to your place—and Rintaro had no intention of taking his words back.
He meant it.
He would lose himself if Iris disappeared from his life.
With that, you had no choice but to force a smile. “I understand,” you declared, wiping your pathetic tears because it hadn’t been an hour since you promised you would be stronger now. But luck was never on your side, and you still kept tripping and wounding yourself.  “I...I would like to return to the castle, Your Highness. There is no need to extend this trip any longer than it should be.”
“We don’t need to return right away, Princess. There are still plenty of things we can do—”
“Please refrain from sharing any activities with me from now on unless it is bound by duty. No eyes are looking, so you have no responsibilities with me right now,” you sent him a pointed gaze. “I wish to return to the city, and that is final. Do not question my decisions as I will not interfere with yours.”
Rintaro’s lips flattened into a thin line. You couldn’t bear yourself to look at him anymore, so you walked away from him, salty tears cascading down your cheeks, and the wedding ring heavier than the weight in your heart.
From today onwards, you might not recognize yourself anymore.
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None of the Princes and their wives questioned the sudden return to Inarizaki Palace.
When they saw you and Rintaro walk in with gloom faces, everyone shuffled to their feet and quickly packed their things. No words or explanations needed. This honeymoon had already ended on a sour note, and now it was time to return to the reality of royal obligations and duties. Duties such as keeping a fake smile plastered at all times when the supportive citizens of Inarizaki waved and cheered at the couples’ arrival. Atrocious obligations such as letting your husband place a possessive hand at the small of your back when the rest of his brothers welcomed you into the lobby, the youngest Prince bouncing at his feet at the sight of you.
“Back so soon, sister? Did you guys enjoy?”
You shared a quick, affectionate glance with Rintaro. “We did. I had the time of my life, but I thought it unnecessary to dilly-dally around in my hometown when royal duties await us all.”
“As expected of my sister. You are always so adept,” praised the marvelled Prince Tobio who had taken himself to looping himself to your arm. It left Rintaro awkwardly following behind as you were guided to your shared chambers, but you weren’t complaining. The youngest Prince was lively and brightened up your bitter days. “Say, would you mind taking me to Greenville someday when we are both free? I heard you had the loveliest manor there.”
“It would be my honour, Your Highness.”
“Please,” he beamed, and instantly, you were given a reason to endure this hell even longer. “Call me brother, we are family now. But ah, it is night time! I should let the both of you rest. Take good care of her, brother!”
Rintaro offered a nod. The both of you waited as Prince Tobio left the room in high spirits when the uncomfortable silence stretched, leaving you to scurry changing into your sleepwear in opt of avoiding your husband’s gaze. Once done, you let your hands roam over the cream pillars surrounding the edges of your king sized bed with a robin egg blue and gold palette. A golden chandelier with diamonds hung from the ceiling above the bed, the bed post textured with coral shaped indents. The same shade of blue hung from the windows. A large television right across the bed with a cream coloured cabinet lined with gold outlines—a perfect room for a man who would be sleeping by himself. Who, by the way, was already comfortably settled into the left side of the bed with his arm propped behind his head.
“Where are you headed?”
“Outside?”
“In your nightgown? Absolutely not.”
“In the drawing room, my Prince. I am not stepping out of our quarters dressed like this.”
“But it is time for bed.”
“Indeed, and I do not wish to share one with you when you and your mistress must have rolled around in it already. Good night, Your Highness,” you sent him a preppy smile, bowing deep before shutting the doors shut. A baffled Rintaro about to leave his bed the last thing you saw.
Hearing the doors close behind you, you practically crashed into the couch. You were beyond exhausted and your head still pounded from your endless crying—it was now time for a good night’s sleep. Not that it would be good, no matter how soft the cushion may be, because the palatial room did nothing but echo the loneliness residing in your heart.
Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro wouldn’t stop tossing and turning in his bed. The clock ticking got to his nerves until he was cracking open every book, tossing the television to random channels, and even swiping his fingers across the countertops to check for dust. He couldn’t sleep—not when his wife wasn’t beside him. This wasn’t how he pictured his marriage out to be; sleeping alone, with his wife intent on keeping her distance. Still, Rintaro thought, shouldn’t he be happy? You were not getting in his way. You were not particularly malicious to Iris on the way back home, or anytime after that, despite his confession that he knew wounded you. You simply ignored her existence, and now it was his turn.
Did you intend on pretending he wasn’t there too? Because Rintaro wasn’t having any of it. He would rather you hit him, scream at him, even call him a monster if it meant you looked at his way.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Rintaro walked to the doors and prepared himself to carry you back to bed when he heard it—the sounds of muffled cries and nearly inaudible whimpers.
He didn’t know why his mouth tasted sour and bitter at the same time.
Rintaro had no idea why he stepped away from the doors like what stood behind it scared him, and slowly returned to the bed. The door acted as a barrier between the two hearts who unknowingly kept themselves up and awake until the sun rose the next morning—Rintaro with a heavy chest of guilt, and your heart gradually losing the spark it once held for him.
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selarina · 8 months
Text
Ghosts in Love
-> Suna Rintaro x Reader, Kageyama Tobio x Reader,
Chapter 3: Crossroads
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Summary: Amidst shared streets and familiar alleys, chance encounters with your ex at grocery stores or parks evolve into shopping together and sharing park benches.
Loosely inspired by the poem "Ghosts in Love" by Carl Sandburg
Content Warnings: angst, exes, childhood friends, love triangle, pining, fluff, slow burn, nostalgia, slice of life, chicken, hurt/comfort, rain, internal conflict, eventual smut
Taglist: Open
Author's Note: Can be read as a one-shot. Guys I actually can't choose between them, it's driving me insane
Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist
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Things with Tobio are great. You like watching him from over your place at the kitchen’s slab as he works around you. When he notices you staring, you notice soft tints of red kissing his face but sometimes, you see him smirk to himself, the same way he does after small victories in a match. 
You’ve been watching him in action. It’s odd, all you knew about volleyball before was Suna. He taught you the rules, he helped you through your first game, and his jersey sits in a warm hidden crevice in your bureau somewhere but now that you’ve attended and seen Tobio in action, it’s all different. 
Suna taught you about victories and how it made him happy, how it made him want to buy a watch, how it made him want to lazily lie on your stomach as he recounted details you didn’t understand from the match.
With Tobio, you learn about strategy and losses. You learn about the failures and how it leaves Tobio reeling into a different space — a space that doesn’t really hold a space for you, a space where you’d rather not be in any way. It’s not to say Tobio fails all the time, it’s just to say Suna never showed his failures. He’s always found it easier to hide them in a closet full of other repressed and discarded clothes 
You watch as Tobio slathers some caviar onto the slab of chicken, his eyes so focused you think it could pierce through the chicken. 
“Tobio,” you speak up.
He hums, urging you to speak even if he isn’t looking at you.
“I’m sorry about the game last night,” you say.
“Why?” He brings a piece of the chicken slab to your mouth for a taste. Your mouth opens, your mouth filled with a briny taste. “Not your fault.”
“No — ‘Course not,” you add. “Just don’t like seeing you upset.”
“It’s fine, all part of the game.” He replies, his concentration not breaking as he continues to work on other slabs of chicken. 
“Hm? It's just interesting. Suna always seemed so carefree about volleyball. But with you, it's like there's a whole world of strategy and sadness.”
“Sadness?”
“Yeah, like you’re sad when you lose. He was just always the same I guess?”
“Oh,” Tobio joins to stand right next to you, his expression softening. "Volleyball means a lot to me," he admits. "It's not just a game. It's about pushing my limits, improving, and giving everything I've got. Sometimes it's frustrating, and when I lose, it's hard to let go."
You don’t know what to say. You just reach for his hand, it finally stops him from working his way through all the empty slabs of chicken. 
He smiles, leaning in to leave a soft peck against your cheek. Your hands squeeze against his own.
He parts, your thumb brushing one last time before he lets go.
Days turn into weeks, and the leaves have turned red. They fall so often now, decorating the ground on your walks.
A single crimson-red leaf falls to the ground, seeping itself into a puddle in the ground. You think about Tobio and how his little mannerisms have managed to seep into the regular pendulum of your life. 
You don’t think about Suna that often. Your schedule is tight and you spend most of your free time with Tobio. You always thought of Tobio as a one-trick pony but surprisingly, he had a range of hobbies he liked to indulge in.
You freeze in your tracks.
You haven’t seen Suna since that day outside the restaurant but right now, he’s standing right in front of you in the line to the billing counter.
You’re not sure what’s appropriate — should you ignore him? Should you greet him? It’s odd — they should really write a rule book to deal with your exes. 
“Sir — you need to buy something else or pay by cash. It’s below the limit for an online payment,” you hear the cashier say.
Suna’s hand rummages through his pocket and his wallet. He ruffles through it quite a bit, seeming like he doesn’t have enough cash. You assume so because he just shrugs at the cashier, “Uhh, I guess I can buy something else. Just add in anything to reach the limit?”
“I can pay for you,” you speak up. You can barely believe you’re speaking up. 
He turns, his gaze resting on your face before it flits down to your fidgety hands. “Are you sure?” Suna speaks, 
Your hands go still. “Of course — it’s not a problem. What are you buying?”
He scratches his cheek, a tinge of embarrassment as he raises three packets of ramen. “Lunch,” he answers.
You smile, some things never change you suppose. 
“You can scan his stuff with mine,” you turn, directly addressing the cashier who simply nods with a courteous smile.
“So, how have you been?” He initiates. You wonder if you would have if he didn’t. You don’t think you would, you’re sure you wouldn’t. 
You don’t answer immediately, your eyes focused on the cashier who scans the items you keep placing on the counter. Suna steps forward, his hand coming out of the pockets of his sweatshirt as he bends down to help you get the items that sit on the lower end of your trolley.
“Same old, same old,” you finally respond.
“Are you sure?” His voice resounds against your ears with a tinge of sarcasm.
“How have you been?” You deflect whatever that was.
“Same old, same old.” He quips to which you simply stare at him blankly before your hands reach to pay the cashier.
“So… It was nice seeing you,” you speak up over the rain as the two of you stand outside, right under the wing that just barely shields you from the rain.
“Likewise,” he says. 
His eyes not leaving the rain in front of you as your eyes linger on him.“It always seems to be raining when we meet,” you say, absentmindedly. Just something you thought of.
“Yeah,” he says, turning. He’s directly staring at you now, eyes gazing from your face to your hands that hold your heavy grocery in a tote bag that’s hanging by a thread in your hand, as he adds — “First time we met too.”
“And first date,” you add, brows rising with amusement.
His eyes linger for a bit, and your smile dies down. 
“First kiss,” he says plainly. 
You turn away, your eyes flitting to the slowing rains, your hands coming out of your pocket to check. 
“I guess I should be able to manage now,” you murmur before you turn to say goodbye.
“We should go to the concert,” he speaks up, cutting you off mid-way, his words leaving your mouth ajar. 
You swallow, “What?” Your word comes out barely above a faint whisper.
“I mean — I think we’re in a good place, and those tickets were expensive. Rather not waste it,” he responds, plainly but with a tinge of defensiveness to his tone.
You let out a sigh, your eyes flitting back to the front as you notice the rains have stopped entirely now. 
“I suppose we could,” you respond.
“Yeah? Plus, I’ve missed you, I guess,” he adds.
You chuckle lightly, “Yeah?”
“Yeah, even without the fucking, I’d like to have you back in my life,” he professes like it’s the testament of unbridled sweet compliments.
You shake your head, turning towards him, eyes glinting with amusement you say, “Wow. You do have a way with your words, don’t you Suna Rintaro?”
He smiles, “So I can text you about it then?”
“It’s a month away,” you reply.
His brows raise. So what? It reads.
“Fine, I guess you can text me about the concert,” you stress.
“Yes ma’am,” he replies, as he pulls his hood over. 
“And for god's sake, eat real food. Please,” you urge before you could take your leave.
“You’ve been dying to say that, haven’t you?”
You don’t respond, merely squinting at him before you part ways. Your feet step on a particularly crunchy, and you think about how much you’ve missed him. And then there’s a quick flash of Tobio’s face and you think maybe this isn’t right?
A few drops fall on your head, you look up — and then it pours, a slew of heavy droplets hitting your head and you’re forced to run home. 
As you hurry along the wet sidewalk, you spot Tobio walking towards out of his car, holding an umbrella above his head. His hair is slightly damp, and his expression holds a mix of confusion as he approaches you. Without a word, he opens the umbrella wider, making sure both of you are sheltered from the downpour.
“Thought you were going to be home,” he says.
“I was but it started raining, so I got late,” you explain as the two of you rush back in. 
The two of you get in, and you rush to the bathroom, taking a light shower — your mind still preoccupied with the encounter you just had with Suna.
You spot Tobio brewing some tea for you as you walk out in your robe, taking a seat on the couch. Your wet hair sits uncomfortably against your neck, as you run your towel through it as you speak a soft, “Hey, what are you brewing?”
“Chamomile,” he replies, his hands resting on the slab.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to take a long nap.” You stretch back into the couch.
Tobio glances at you, his gaze lingering before he speaks up again, "Everything okay?"
You hesitate, unsure of how much you should share because really it’s nothing, right? 
“Hm? Yeah, just tired.” You reply, a tired smile hanging off your face.
He simply nods as he plops himself next to you, his hand stretching to hand you your usual cup.
You think about how nice this is, how nice he is, and a future of a hand holding umbrella over your head, and warm tea but then you think of nights under the rain and hot ramen with towels on your shoulders.
“Thank you,” you reply as you take a careful sip before you place it on the table in front of you, as your hand comes up to run over the towel on your shoulder.
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Taglist: @alienvarmint @sagejin
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icedhoneyy · 2 years
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— Drops of Jupiter
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SUMMARY: After his parents decide to put his childhood home up for sale, Rintarō and his family go back to Aichi to take one final look at the place he grew up at. The same place Suna Rintarō built you a home at the tender age of four.
There, the two of you reminisce on your friendship throughout the years.
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TAGS: Suna Rintarō x Reader, childhood friends to lovers, fluff & angst, found family dynamics, Miya twins slander (affectionate)
WARNINGS: mentions and depictions of toxic family/ neglectful parents
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— PROLOGUE: Back to the house in the backyard tree
— ONE: Footsteps, words said, your little sister’s favorite song
— TWO: It's nice to have a friend 
— THREE:  Love, pride & deep-fried chicken
— FOUR: Cross my heart, won’t tell no other
— FIVE:  Heart in my chest and the clouds of my breath
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banner pictures by rochelle lee: [01, 02, 03]
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rosiesroseas · 1 year
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bf!suna who has an album of you filled with pics and the often stupid videos he takes when he’s feeling silly with you.
bf!suna who has a video of him standing behind you whilst you’re reading a book on the couch and his hand is in the video, faking a jerking off motion to you til you notice and then he releases his hand like he just finished.
bf!suna who has a video of you sleeping where your shirt has ridden up that your boobs are so close, if you stir in your sleep again they’ll, for sure, pop out. and in the video is another stupid clip of his hand, shaking madly while he gently (and reluctantly) pulls your shirt down, hand still shaking like it’s the hardest thing to do.
bf!suna who has another video of you sleeping and he’s just poking your cheeks softly, occasionally pinching them as well.
bf!suna who has a video of him creeping up behind you while you’re doing the dishes and he proceeds to cup your ass while bouncing it in his hand “hey everyone, back with another, this time featuring my girlfriends ass—with a review!” You obviously proceeded to wet him with the dirty sink water (he’s done this before, many, many times.)
bf!suna who has a video of you drunk and crying to the ending of coco while clinging to his side. his lips are pursed together while he’s giving you the nastiest yet nonchalant side eye, nodding once and a while to your complains, “this boys family is a menace Rin! Can you believe that?”
bf!suna who has a video of you squashed to his chest because your shirt is off out of annoyance to the heat of summer. You were bathing in the new chill of having no shirt that you didn’t notice he’s taking a video of him cheering silently while your side boob and his side of his chest are in view, mf is cheering like a teenage boy.
bf!suna who has a video of him randomly coming up to you and pressing your foreheads together while he opens his mouth wide in a funny way. You’re grimacing and he’s just in a silly mood to mess with you.
bf!suna who has a video of you walking from the water in your bathing suit, it flips back to him who falsely claims he’s been shot through his actions, “I’ve been shot by sexiness, someone help me,” it cuts after he pretends he’s dead on the sun-chair.
bf!suna who has a video of him after he’s done being your professional photographer. He pretends he’s taking more, going around you while you laugh, “look here, baby, yes! perfect! one more ms. Suna! Give me fierce!” Completely doesn’t care about the public walking past.
bf!suna who has a video of him pretending to be a YouTuber again. He has a cute headband on and a pink face mask on along with you who is busy doing a lip mask,
“hey everybody, welcome back! Today I am venturing into a women’s skin care,” you punched him in the chest playfully, “excuse you, i’m not just a women, thank you very much,”
he chuckled, “right, everyone, this is my beautiful, sexy, caring, and perfect girlfriend #soon-to-be-wife.” (he whispered that to the camera, hoping the songs playing on your speaker was loud enough.)
And finally, bf!suna who has a video of you crying while laughing after he just proposed, your quite literally balling and this mf is just smiling while cradling you to his side, “#soon-to-be-wife !”
bf!suna who just loves those videos so much (and taking more) that he hopes his storage doesn’t run out soon because he’s on his last storage plan.
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satorisoup · 1 month
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ᰔ CANDY GRAMS ft. rintaro suna
ʚ CW : secret admirer. manager! reader.
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ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ
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every year on valentine’s day, your schools student body sets up a booth for candy grams. $2 to send a cute little message to your loved one with little lollipops and candied hearts. the line would stretch all the way down the hall with students eager to buy one, the end of the line grumbling at their time wasted when they heard the shout of “sold out!”. it was a huge tradition that the students never failed to miss, as it would always cause an uproar of excitement along with the funds being donated to whatever cause.
it’s your second year at inarizaki highschool, and you were luckily privileged enough to become the manager of the volleyball club during the second half of your first year, being a new student, despite the insane amount of girls who had applied for the spot. you had made it extremely clear that no, you were not interested in the twins, no, this wasn’t a plan to get one them to fall in love with you, and no, you weren’t a secret spy for a fangirl instagram account trying to gather information. all things accounted for, you were accepted into the position.
now as a second year, you had kept your word on not falling for the infamous volleyball twins who in reality were just dumb teenage boys that talked your ear off with their constant nagging and immature jokes. however, the one who had caught your eye was the middle blocker with the #10 jersey, rintaro suna. they never said you couldn’t have a little crush on him, right? and even despite having quite the interest in him, you would never act on it, as you seemed to be good friends with him along with the twins, not daring to ruin the friendship or break the trust with the club.
suna was a nice person to be around, his sense of humor was infectious and he was a good, more tame break from the rambunctious person known as atsumu miya, even though they did tend to occasionally get into mischief when together. he was blunt in the ways he showed that he cared, and you recall the moment you realized you had feelings for him when you had accompanied him at the store to get a snack before practice. he had asked you if you wanted anything, and you had told him you didn’t have any money with you.
“i didn’t ask if you had money. i asked what you wanted.”
it left you blushing for the rest of the day, walking out of the shop with a cookie in hand and hearing “why didn’t ya pay fer me?!” fall out of atsumu’s mouth in complaint. you knew in your heart you definitely couldn’t deny it now, you had fallen.
the date marked february 14th, valentine’s day, and just like last year, the halls were bustling in delirium as the line stretched from one end of the courtyard to the other. you slung your bag over your shoulder and continued to walk to your designated class, overhearing the cheers of the people who finally made it to the front of the string of students. making your way to class and taking your seat, you prepare to take on the day as if it were any other.
eventually, the period before lunch had rolled around, and the person passing candy grams from each class had reached your door. you could feel the anticipation of your peers as the student began dropping each one off to certain desks. 1 here, 3 there, 5, wow that’s quite a few.
after most of the class had received their special gifts, whispering the notes their partners had left for them to one another, you had expected the deliverer to make their leave and be on with it.
your assumptions hadn’t been correct, when you see that they had made their way to your desk.
“10 candy grams for miss l/n, here you go!”
wait what?
you caught a few quiet gasps and small whispers from some of your classmates as your desk had been filled with a whopping number of 10 candy grams. even you had wanted to gasp yourself, but you really did not want this attention on you.
after everyone had quieted down a little more, you took the gracious opportunity to check the pink slips of paper on each packet of treats.
“to: y/n.”
again, you checked another slip. then another, and another for good measure. to your upmost confusion, every single slip you had was completely nameless. before you could comprehend exactly what was going on with these mysterious sweets, class was being dismissed for lunch.
“buying candy grams for yerself? that’s pretty depressin’.” atsumu bellowed at you when you had walked up to your friends, arms almost overflowing with your gifts.
“im not that cheap, you idiot…there’s 10 here, and ALL with no name.” you scoffed back at him.
“maybe it’s yer stalker.” osamu had countered, eyeing the bags.
“oh yeah, how lovely that would be. quit trying to scare me, osamu.” you deadpanned. “where’s suna?”
“dunno. so, ya gonna share that candy or what?”
“really miya? you’re both holding an entire grocery bag of them. i’ll see you guys at practice.” you walked off, still pondering on the thought of who it could be.
you still hadn’t managed to find suna within the midst of this entire situation, wanting to get his input. despite the so called “thrill” of having a secret admirer, you didn’t really seem to care. you wanted suna, and you wanted it to be him who was sending you stupid pieces of candy and dumb notes. that however, is a wish that could never be granted no matter how bad you yearned for it.
it’s the last half of the day by now, most classes having been visited by the deliverer, disregarding a few. mostly extra candy grams were being passed to the people who didn’t receive them before lunchtime. you practically ignored the lesson your teacher was explaining, too caught up in your thoughts to listen. 10 candy grams, no name, suna has practically disappeared. when class had been dismissed, you passed by your locker in hopes of putting the treats in there for later, but when you opened the latch, you had yet another surprise waiting for you.
10 more packets of candy dribbled out of your locker, a couple landing by your feet as if to mock you. you scamper to pick them up with a huff, and when you start to shove them in with the rest in your locker, miserably failing to fit them all inside, you come to an immediate realization.
atsumu is the only person who unfortunately knows your locker combination, back when you had held his lost textbook for him until he could get it back.
it dawned on you in an instant, of course, this was atsumu’s idea of humour, a perfect valentine’s day prank.
you roll your eyes at the idea of the twins antics, but also began to feel a tinge of sadness when you came to your conclusion, a hint of hope in the back of your mind that maybe, it was the one your heart had longed for who was up to this, but you’re quick to shut it down. with an upset slam of your locker, you head to the gym.
feet that slowly skid onto the concrete stairs was all that could be heard, and your shoes squeek against the vinyl flooring of the inarizaki gym when you enter. as you prepare to tell off atsumu, a voice interrupts you.
“what’s up with you?”
it was suna, his head cocked to the side with a slight furrow in his brow.
“im trying to find atsumu, he’s really done it this time…”
“and what did he do?”
“he thought it would be a funny idea to prank me! on valentine’s day of all days! sending a mountain of candy grams that won’t even fit in my locker…there wasn’t even a name on them. and it made me think…” you interrupt yourself before you accidentally say too much, “it’s just dumb yknow?” you huff.
“i figured you would think something dumb like that.”
“… huh?”
suna starts to dig into his bag, hand reaching in and then back out. one of his arms extended out to you, holding one of the same cellophane bags that had been taunting you all day.
this one held a cookie, the same kind as that day back at the store, and when you open the note, you can feel yourself grow lighter.
“to: y/n.
you’re kind of a dunse.”
and this time, there’s an indicator of the sender on the slip of paper, in the same handwriting as all of the others.
“R. S.”
you look to suna with widened eyes and a growing blush to your cheeks, your mouth slightly ajar when you ask him,
“…it was you?”
suna softly smirks at you, his hidden facade of mischievousness breaking as he replies,
“yeah, you should really think before you trust a miya with your locker combo.”
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renardiererin · 1 year
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rintarou suna is such a pussy enthusiast. i don’t make the rules, he will eat pussy like a starved man. he isn’t clean in any way. he will dive into your core and hook his arms around your thighs, holding you flush against his face even well after you’re sobbing and overstimulated out of your mind.
“please rintarou it hurts”
“come on princess just a few more for me, you taste so good.”
he will scrape his teeth against your clit to watch your back arch, and flick the tip of his tongue against your most sensitive spots until you’re uncontrollably cumming in his mouth. he won’t stop for anyone or anything, he goes until he decides he’s satisfied. just the taste of your pussy is enough to get him leaking in his pants. sometimes if he’s in a certain mood, he might even pump himself into his hand and let his eyelids shut as he moans into your overused pussy.
he’ll tonguefuck you by shoving his talented muscle into your stretched hole, hitting your g spot with every thrust of his tongue. he’ll eat your pussy until your juices are streaming down his chin and smeared all over the bottom half of his face and he won’t even bat an eye.
he will eat pussy like it’s his last meal and he’s on death row.
rintarou suna is the messiest pussy eater in the world and he takes no shame in it.
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iwas-princess · 1 year
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suna rintaro • christmas eve princess
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“c’mon, baby. don’t be like that.”
you huffed back at your boyfriend, your arms crossed over your chest as you childishly pouted. you walked ahead of him, continuing your journey to the passenger seat of his luxury car.
“hey, sweetheart, stop.” he chuckled as you continued to ignore him.
the silent treatment that you played didn’t let up as you neared his car in the store’s packed parking lot, much to his dismay. he stayed behind you, his large hands filled with your family’s christmas gifts you both had just purchased last minute.
it started out small, this argument did.
suna, ever the lazy man he is, pushed aside gift buying for weeks as your schedule filled once finals season approached, resulting in your shopping to begin the night before christmas. to say that you were irritated would be an understatement when you found that there were no gifts to wrap.
you wanted to kill rintaro, and even contemplated makibg sleep on the couch for a week— but it was christmas eve and even though he was annoying, you still wanted nothing more than to be near him during this holiday season.
angry or not.
as you approached your passenger door, you turned around briefly to take one look at him.
his hair was collecting snowflakes, the jet black locks speckled with white fuzz beautifully. his strong arms were carrying two heavy bags and one large electronic box for your younger sibling, and although he looked as if the items were nothing compared to him, you could tell that he was struggling slightly to carry them all in this cold, and his long fingers were most likely numb from the cold.
“wait, just a second. you know that you’re not allowed to open your own door; that’s my job.” suna corrected as your glove clad hand reached the car door handle.
you rolled your eyes, but felt your heart warm a few temperatures at his manners.
“let me just set these in the trunk and i’ll get you in that nice and toasty car, ‘kay? don’t want my princess getting too cold.” he explained as he popen the trunk, and carefully set the gifts in there.
you waited patiently, frustrated at him, but nevertheless ignored him still.
he tucked his frozen hands in his pockets breifly as he walked around the your side of the car, sending a flirty wink your way as he watched your eyes follow his moves briefly before looking off in the distance.
“i saw that, pretty girl.” he chuckled under his breath as he reached you.
the close proximity of him suddenly, caused a warm feeling to envelop your cold body. his scent filled your lungs as you breathed in the harsh air, your eyes nearly rolling back at the smell.
he was intoxicating.
his bare hand covered yours to gain your attention, wanting nothing more than to see your eyes on him once more— those pretty eyes that he adored.
when you didn’t budge, he let out an airy laugh at your behavior,
“sweetie, c’mon. look at me…” his voice was nearly teasing, catlike in every way as he spoke.
“what?” you harshly huffed out.
“ah, there she is. there’s your pretty voice that i missed so much.” he gently cooed at you. you found it condescending.
“what do you want, rintaro? i’m cold.” you were icy cold when you asked him, your voice cruel.
he ignored your attitude, tucking a loose strand behind your ear before caging you against the car door.
“rintaro! what is wrong with you? i’m freezing and i have to go home and wrap presents because you,” you shoved your finger against his coat covered chest. “didn’t tell me that we didn’t have any until last minute! now, i’m going to be exhausted all fucking day tomorrow because i’ll go to bed late”.
he smirked as you shouted quietly at him, careful not to make a scene.
he didn’t want to invalidate you in anyway, because he knew very well that he fucked up this year, but something about how adorable you looked in your puffy coat he bought you had his heart bursting. you looked so damn cute, exclaiming about your worries while you dressed warmly. your cheeks were flushed from the harsh cold, your nose beginning to run as well.
you had his whole heart and you didn’t even realize it.
you noticed the smug look on his face, immediately resulting in a punch to his shoulder.
he hissed in pain lowly, his broad body flinching back slightly before the hand covering yours nursed the now sore muscle.
“ouch, baby. that was awfully mean of you, don’t you think?”
you huffed in annoyance before turning around and opening the door yourself. but, just as you opened it, your boyfriend was quick to shut it with his knee.
“hey! what is your-“
he face leaned closer to yours, his cold nose touching your own freezing one. his dark eyes bored into yours and his lips brushed against yours gently.
“you know only i open this door for you, no one else. not even you.” he whispered darkly, his voice raspy.
you nodded slowly, allowing him to reach next to you and open the door back open for you, his eyes never leaving yours. he backed up enough for the door to fully open.
“go in.”
you obeyed reluctantly. you slid into the luxurious car, the soft heated cushions welcoming you happily with comforting warmth. you let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling, before turning your attention back to your doting boyfriend. he leaned in towards you slowly, your breath hitched as his torso entered the warm car. his face became nothing but a few inches away from yours, giving you the impression that he was going to give you a forgiving kiss. but instead, he reached a few inches behind him, and pulled the seatbelt around your lap before buckling it.
“gotta keep my little princess safe, don’t i? these roads are icy, brat.”
you nodded along, at loss for words.
“suna?” you called out after a few moments of thought as he was exiting the vehicle.
he stopped momentarily, crouching over slightly to hear and look at you as you spoke.
“kiss me.” you whispered.
he smiled wide, and if his cheeks weren’t frostkissed you could’ve seen the blush that creeped upon him at your words.
“of course.”
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prettyboytsum · 3 months
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ complaining about his size cw: afab! reader, daddy kink, slightly possessive, initial discomfort disclaimer: all characters are aged up! mdni! wc: 302
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“‘s too big, can’t fit!” you whine, bucking your hips as he starts pushing the tip of his large cock into you. tears pricking as you let out a soft moan of discomfort—hands on his chest as you instinctively try to push him away. "too big, daddy!" “i know, baby. i know,” he murmurs reassuringly into your ear. one hand playing with your clit as he tries to dull the pain of accommodating his girth. “but don’t you wanna be a good girl for me, hm? wanna be daddy’s good girl?”
you let out a gasp, now gripping his shoulders as you nod frantically. you bite your lip, a muffled squeal leaving you as he pushes another inch in.
“oh fuck, gotta relax for me, yeah? sucking me in, can’t even move, princess,” he groans, hiding in the crook of your neck as he pushes deeper. you let out another whine, the pain mixing in with pleasure as you start bucking your hips to chase a familiar high. “atta girl, we’ll make it fit.”
“so big—so big,” you blabber mindlessly as he bottoms out, both of you moaning in unison.
“daddy too big for you?” he whispers, planting wet kisses on his neck. his tone is hardly apologetic—if anything, it’s almost mocking. “daddy too big for his pretty pussy?”
you nod dumbly, loud whines escaping your lips as he pulls out before pushing himself back in. his thrusts become more aggressive as his fingers tweak and pull on every inch of skin he can hold onto.
“too bad, princess,” he growls, pinning your wrists above your head as he leans against your legs so that you’re practically folded in half. “because it's the only cock that’s ever gonna fuck you this good.”
toji, suna, geto, eren, sukuna, daichi, reiner, ushijima, iwaizumi, tsukishima
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ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.
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miya-rin · 9 months
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imagine being the miya twins older sister who has had suna rintarou fully enamoured with your existence since he first met you at 15 years old.
he has tried to make many moves on you over the years to no avail; sneakily trying to place his arms around your shoulder before one of your brothers notice and throw the nearest object they can grab his way. not letting you carry anything while hes around, claiming how “youll never have to lift a finger again” if you give him a chance. hell, even dropping down to the floor to tie your shoelaces the second he realises the laces have come loose, taking his time to stand back up afterwards as he slowly rakes his eyes over your figure so he can fully take in every inch of you. every attempt of his to make you swoon for him is met with “sorry sweetheart, still not into minors” and a small ruffle of his hair which gives him a dopey smile. you would think he would start to back off eventually but to your dismay every rejection you have handed to him has just made his desire for you grow stronger - he takes your words as “try again when youre 18”
which is exactly what he does. on his 18th birthday his friends decide to throw him a massive party - being the twins chaperone you had to come along and when suna set his eyes on you, you knew there was no chance of you escaping his antics. you catch him glancing at you multiple times throughout the night before he gets pulled away by one of his guests, a disappointed look in his eyes every time he had to look away from you.
after a couple of hours you decide to step outside onto the balcony to catch some fresh air seeing as there was no sign of the party dying down anytime soon. you’re outside for maybe 5 minutes when you hear the door slide open, you already know who its going to be seeing as he has been trying to catch you alone all night, you turn around to finally face the boy and he looks as ecstatic as ever.
“happy birthday suna.” you swear you can see his soul leave his body the second those words leave your mouth, its not the first time youve said it to him tonight - youre not that cruel as to not wish the poor boy a happy birthday on his special day - but everything that comes out of your mouth looks like it sends him to heaven and back.
“thankyou yn, i appreciate you being here, but then again, i know you cant spend more that a week away from me because youre just so obsessed with me.”
“wow, am i that easy to read?” you chuckle along with him, noticing the way his gaze doesnt stray away from your face while you face forward, “so, how does it feel finally being legal?”
“incredible, it means you can finally give me a chance.” he doesnt miss the way you sigh at his words.
“suna we’v-“
“i know that we’ve been over this, but i don’t really think you mean it,” this gains an eye roll from you, “plus, my one wish when i blew out my candles was that you would give me a kiss.”
“really? well i guess your going to have to go without this year.”
“it was my birthday wish, youre not gonna deny me that are you?”
“yknow, if you tell your wish to someone it doesnt come true right?”
“yn…please,” his voice is barely above a whisper, he sounds desperate, “i have been waiting for three years, all i ask for is one kiss, just one.”
“i think youre forgetting that im 22 and you are freshly 18.”
“im still 18 though.”
“hm… you make a good point,” you see the way he perks up slightly at your evaluation, a hopeful look becoming more prominent in his eyes, “one kiss. let it be my official gift for the birthday boy.” you might have well as told him he had just one the lottery, anyone who walked past the sliding door would think you had due to the way his smile was so wide.
“thankyou” is all he can muster up before he is snaking his hand up your body and with a hand tangled up in your hair he leans down until his lips touch yours, you can feel the shit eating grin spread across his face as he gently moves his lips in sync with yours, pulling away slightly to whisper “best birthday ever” before leaning back in <3
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chimielie · 2 years
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bitter ain't sweet
summary: Suna x F!Reader. a college fairytale in reverse
word count: 2.8k
cw: angst to fluff, [kuroo voice] stupid young people, hypothetical discussion of throwing up towards the end
a/n: one night i was so so miserable bc i just know suna is out there falling stupid in love with girls who don’t care about him and this was born
"Aren't you tired?" You say, amused, as a twenty-one-year-old Suna Rintarō stretches out his legs over the arm of your couch, his head resting in your lap.
"Nah," he shakes his head, his eyelids dropping shut and his muscles going limp when you thread your fingers through his hair. "I'm staying on that grind."
"Oh, aren’t you," you snort. He reaches up to flick your face, eyes still closed, and settles for waving his hand vaguely around in search of your face about five inches below it.
"Vulgar," he says. "Who's teaching you these things?"
"You."
"Ah. You shouldn't let me do that."
"Do what?" You cease petting his hair, and he wriggles petulantly upward, searching for your hand. You give in too easily and resume.
"Corrupt you," he says, all too happily. "Anyway, like I was saying, I can't decide where I should take her out Saturday."
With the subject change, you let your mind wander away from the man at hand. You pull your hands away from him, the only contact between the two of you the weight of his head in your lap, pressing against your stomach. He doesn't notice, too engrossed in parsing out his latest romantic encounter with his latest romantic interest.
You sigh and tip your head back as far as it can go. Oh, Rintarō. You've been long since corrupted, ruined for all men by one who falls asleep in his classes and passes them all anyway, who has a beautiful singing voice only so long as he's wasted, who takes you to movies and taught you to wait in the bathroom to watch a second one for free, whose glowing eyes see everything but you.
Rintarō doesn't have a type.
Sometimes she's tall, sometimes she's short, always she's enamored by him. He never really gets to know her that well before it's over.
He likes—adventure, likes flirting and fucking around, likes it when she does something he doesn't expect. Eventually, though, something has to shift. It can't be late-night driving and hot tub hickeys forever, as much as he wishes he could stay steady in the stream of change.
Sometimes he ends things. Sometimes she does. He's never really that cut up about it.
And there's always another girl.
Rintarō doesn’t want to break hearts; he’s not playing the dating field like it’s some kind of game. It’s just never... quite... right.
You’re right (and he knows you know it). He’s tired. He wants a cinematic story with a happy ending, in his own way, without frills or saccharine sweetness. He wants someone he won’t get tired of, someone who doesn’t idolize him, someone to love. Hands cold and blood pooling in his cheeks, Rintarō just wants.
You’re Rintarō’s best friend, one of his favorite people in the world; you make everything easy. Of course he’s sitting next to you, shoving popcorn in his mouth and staring at his television, when he figures it out.
“Your friend,” he says suddenly, interrupting the sopping, dramatic monologue of the man onscreen. “Your, ah, roommate.”
“What?” You glare at him, the tension of the scene broken.
“Is she single?”
Your expression shutters off. He’s never not been able to read your thoughts on your face. It’s disturbing. He’s not sure what he did wrong—his words, interrupting the movie, discussing her—but he wants to take it back.
“Yeah, she is.” You cock your head, still inviting an explanation. Now that he’s started, he can’t stop his momentum.
“Would you—do you think, uh—”
“She does hate you,” you say, dry to his ears. She hates him because she’s the one who checks in on you while he’s out, who watches you insist over and over again that you’re over him, who lets you lean on her when it all inevitably happens again. To Rintarō’s knowledge, she’s just a little ornery, someone who will fight for what she wants, someone whose next move he’ll never guess. “That might be a problem.”
“I’ll figure it out,” he waves it away, infuriatingly confident in his own subtle magnetism. “But only with your permission.”
“My permission.” You echo, sounding faraway. He’s handing you a big, round, waxy red apple here; watching your turmoil with serpentine eyes. Rintarō leans forward, takes one of your hands between both of his. The movie is long forgotten.
“Yeah. You’re my friend, and she’s yours. I don’t want to move forward with anything if it’ll make things weird between us.”
“Why would it make things weird between us?” You say, and he doesn’t have an answer, just a gut feeling. “Do what you want, Rintarō, don’t bother with what I think.”
“But I care what you think,” he says. “You’re right. Fucking around isn’t enough for me, anymore, you were right when you said I go after women I don’t really like. But I like her,” he says your name, and your heart feels overworked and suddenly you’re just exhausted. “I really do. I think I always have.”
You jerk your hand out of his. He jumps at the moment, at the outright fury that breaks over your face. His hands feel cold, again.
“If you care so much about what I think, then don’t,” you say, more bitterly than you want to. “Don’t ask her out, don’t try to convince her she’s the one. Don’t jump ship from dating women you don’t like to dating women who don’t like you.” You let out a broken laugh, and he’s not sure exactly where this is going but he’s sure it’s too late to salvage. “For the love of—do something good for yourself, Rintarō.”
You storm out, the blood rushing in your ears deafening his pleading, his desperate questions. He catches your wrist, and you look back at him with something awful in your face. The line between love and hate is thin. Your last words hang in the air like thunder rolling behind your lightning, and the echo sounds a lot like stop being selfish, Rintarō.
The door catches before it shuts, and Rintarō can’t bring himself to close it, ‘cause maybe you’ll come back. He sits down next to the opening and scrubs his hands over his face, through the strands of his hair. His head hurts. He feels sick. He fucked up.
You’re Rintarō’s literal girl next door, or you were, his freshman year in the dorms. Your assigned roommate was never home, and his was always kicking him out. He found a comfortable spot as the shade to your sunny disposition, spending countless afternoons dragging you outside to laze around on the green or pulling you out of the library to stock up on more poisonous energy drinks.
He’s selfish; he’s not stupid.
He's spent too many days almost lying across your dining table while you don an apron over your hoodie and shorts, whipping together incredible concoctions from a cookbook. He can't cook worth shit, but he loves to watch you do it, phone lifted in front of his face but eyes trained on you. He heckles you as you go. What do stiff peaks mean? That's dirty. I'm not eating this if the souffle comes out flat. How many syllables are in ratatouille, honey?
Every time, he says it's his favorite food in the world, right around the time you slide him a portion, because he knows he's an ass and he's sorry about it. And because you're amazing.
He knew that, too.
You have standards too high to ever want anything to do with him like that, know him too well to imagine that he could treat you like you deserve to be. At his bravest moments, he imagines that if he could prove to himself he could do it with another girl, one not as important as you, he could convince himself he could touch you without breaking.
At his most cowardly, he asks for favors you can't give.
Your laugh, that raw sound filled with anything but mirth, plays over in his mind and it feels like it’s sanding him down, tearing him into pieces. If Rintarō has nothing else going for him, he can make you laugh; he can bring the light into his sunshine girl’s face. It feels like he’s ruined that, too.
The ring of your doorbell is like a death knell. Once upon a time, when boys like Rintarō fucked over princesses like you, they would have been executed for their dishonor. Maybe he’ll go back to Hyōgo and ask Kita to bring back the old days.
There’s a scuffle behind the door; muffled words that he can’t understand.
“You shouldn’t!” He can hear your roommate say, frustrated and protective, and it hurts to think that she’s protecting you from him. He curls in on himself (further), wonders what he looks like in the fish-eye view of your door’s peephole. The stems of the flowers he’s holding crinkle in his grip.
Shit shit fuck you fucker, he thinks at himself.
The door opens a crack, and your eyes appear above the lock.
“What do you want,” calls your roommate, and his view of you disappears.
“Can you let me—” the sentence is aborted, but Rintarō can imagine your combination of hand gestures and mouthed words.
“Okay, okay,” she calls, and he’s more than a little relieved that she seems to be getting further away. He almost feels bad for it, too.
Mostly, though, all of his energy is focused towards feeling guilty about you. You pop the door open, leaning on it, and there’s not a smile on your face when you face him, just shadowy eyes and chapped lips.
“Hi,” you open the door for him, flannel pajama pants dragging on the floor, and he watches, eyes wide. “You wanna come in?”
He passes you the flowers, stammers through an explanation for them that doesn’t make any sense to his brain no matter how many words he adds on. You don’t say a word to help him, don’t complete his sentence to parse out his meaning, nothing. You just let him flail.
Eventually, he trails into defeated silence, and wishes he could be grateful that his own voice is no longer grating on his ears. It’s embittered by the way you take the flowers, expression unchanging, and turn, pretending to fluff them up and rearrange them.
He stares at your back, left open and vulnerable. You don’t have a reason to guard against him, he guesses, he left all his swords behind when he stabbed them through you today.
“I’m sorry,” you say, and glance halfway over your shoulder. Rintarō freezes.
“You should be free to date who you want. Or ask, anyway. Especially if that’s how you—how you feel.”
“No,” he says, and his tongue feels thick and gluey and stupid.
“Yes,” you argue. “I’m sorry I reacted—um. I let my f-f—” You can’t seem to finish the sentence, a long-held horror icing over your veins. Years of pining, collapsed into this one awful moment.
You drop your chin to your chest, stare down at the flowers. There’s an aphid crawling in one of the roses, descending into the heart of the bloom.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s like a full-body sigh to finally say it right. You turn, and he’s right there, and it’s so easy to lean your head on his chest and let his heartbeat calm you.
Except his pulse is hammering in allegro, faster even than yours, and you have to wonder why unflappable Rintarō seems on the verge of panic.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I lied.”
“About what?” You lift your head, and his eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen them, his mouth barely turned down.
“Not your roommate,” he mutters, and you nudge him.
“Can’t hear you.”
“I—shut up, this is hard, okay?” His voice has no anger in it, though, and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your face, even as you brace yourself for god-knows-what. “I made a lot of mistakes. That were especially. Unfair. To you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say plainly. “Please, what the fuck?”
“I’m in love with you,” he says it like a curse, scrubbing his hands through his hair, eyes squeezed shut. You stand up, ramrod-straight, and he sways a little, practically unnoticeably, at the loss of your touch.
“You are not.” Your voice is firm but your eyes are watering. You want him out, you want him to go away. You want him not to use this, your most precious secret, against you. You want him to be better.
“I am,” he says. “And I’m sorry.”
“That is,” you struggle for words, and that distorted laugh escapes you again. “That is cruel. That’s not funny.”
“I’m serious,” Rintarō says, desperate, hands out and palms up. “I love you."
"I'm going to be sick," and you might be joking, but your hands are clutched over your stomach like maybe you mean it.
"Please don't," he says, and the familiar warmth of his touch is a balm on your clammy cheek. "I made mistakes because I was scared. That you were too good for me, that I'd fuck you over, just like I ended up doing. You're right, I think, I knew I was dating girls I didn't like or who didn't like me and I thought I couldn't face that with you. I know it sounds stupid, really stupid, but it's true, Y/N, please."
Wiry strands of Rintarō's hair are sticking to his forehead, his lashes clumping together, his mouth wobbling. You hate how many minutes you've spent staring at that mouth, the shape memorized through quick, platonic swipes of your thumb across it to clear smeared crumbs, through taking advantage of his love of side-eyeing other people and leaving you free to stare. That's your undoing—the stupid tremble of his barely pink, bitten lips, the ones you've always wanted to kiss until all of his snarky nonchalance has melted right off him, the way you know Rintarō couldn't fake that expression if he wanted to.
"And my roommate?"
"I'm an asshole," he says, with none of the usual wryness he uses when he's being charmingly self-aware. "I couldn't face my feelings for the only girl I couldn't have so I asked for the closest thing to it."
Maybe he could have survived like that, chasing a forever that could have existed if he weren't heartstoppingly, achingly, crazy in love with you. He could have watched from a safe distance as you fell in love with someone else, could have distracted himself while the girl he wanted found someone who was better for her.
"You could have me, though," you say, frustrated. He shakes his head.
"Nobody should have you. Nobody deserves you. Should just feel lucky you let them hang out with you." You huff out a laugh, but he sounds dead serious. You remember, early on, you'd gone on a couple dates, and Rintarō had always been there, sprawled over your couch, yawning, tawny eyes narrowed. Don't drop your standards for these losers.
"You know this kind of thing doesn't foster trust," your hands cover his, and there's a hopeful glimmer in those eyes that makes his breath pick up. "Kind of an ominous start to a relationship."
"I'm not romantic." He's a little afraid of the effect the words will have, but he needs to be honest with you, with himself. Even when it's ugly. Example: "You threatened to puke on me when I told you I love you."
You turn your nose up in the air, joy leaking through your expression, and the rub of your thumb over the back of his hands feels like forgiveness. His teeth tug on his lower lip, exposing the scar where he'd once had a lip ring that had driven you into a fever for all the months he'd worn it. You know then: you have history with the fucking mouth he has on him, and you're not done with it. "It was deserved."
"The worst part is that I wouldn't mind." He'd just worry that it got in your hair, that you weren't feeling good. God, he loves you so much it's grossing him out. "Are we...okay?"
"We will be," you say, and kiss him, because you've been wanting to since he first hid in your room from the chaos of your floor's common area. And then you kiss him again because he's really good at it. And then one more time, to bite his lip and hear him pretend he didn't whine when you pulled away. "You shouldn't call yourself an asshole, you know. I don't like it when people shit talk the people I love."
"Mm, it was deserved," he grins. "But if you really want it—you should make me."
1K notes · View notes
shoulmate · 6 months
Text
"You really don't want to come out with us tonight, Suna?" Komori asks ruefully. "Washio has some friends coming to meet up with us at the bar."
"No thanks." Suna barely looks up when he answers, eyes leaving his phone for a fraction of a second. "I've already got plans."
Washio and Komori might be gossiping on his way out; he can feel eyes on him as he closes his locker but it doesn't matter.
He could not care less about going out.
He just slings his duffel bag over his shoulder and starts reading through your texts, smirking.
Look, I saw a squirrel today! Doesn't he kind of look like 'Samu? {1 image attached}
Yaaaaaaas, buy one get one frrereerererereeeeeeeee {2 images attached}
When are you going to get out of practice? I'm so bored
Okay but who would be the mafia boss...Kita or Aran?
As you continue the one-sided conversation debating with yourself the strengths and weaknesses of a criminal organization run by Kita versus Aran, Suna's smirk turns into a smile.
His phone gives the cheery chime and the thread shifts up as you text him again.
It's a series of GIFs this time and Suna laughs under his breath wondering what the fuck you searched to find Elmo flailing his arms in front of a wall of fire.
I SEE THEM MARKED AS READ BITCCHHH
YOU'RE ON YOUR WAY HOOOMEEOAISFJOSDIGJSODIGJSOIDFJEWNOAIHEFOIJSAJDVOIJ
You send him two pictures after that; the first is of your shared coffee table covered in your and his favorite snacks, tv in the background with The Wind Rises queued up to play.
The second is of yourself on the couch in his hoodie snuggled up under your favorite blanket and gesturing dramatically to the empty spot next to you:
I'm saving you a seat
Suna could not care less about going out.
Travel safe <3
The only place where he wants to be--
>Be there soon babe
--is with you.
2K notes · View notes
hxltic · 2 months
Note
i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣
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OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
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You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.
The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.
He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?
Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.
Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.
Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.
“Holy— shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.
It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.
He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.
Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.
You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.
“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.
“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”
He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”
Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.
“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jump-scared instead.”
Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway— not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open— and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.
While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.
“Jump-scared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down his body as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.
“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”
Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”
“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.
“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”
“They probably already are.”
He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face, but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too. Nothing compared to the sheer size of his thighs though; they had to be the size of your head. Just by photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake.
Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.
You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”
“Right… like all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”
Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with embarrassment that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.
You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”
He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.
“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”
Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a question you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck— the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I— uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.
Of course, to add to the fucking embarrassment, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.
“Is that all you read?”
You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”
He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”
Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.
“N-no,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.
“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”
To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.
This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.
You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.
“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”
Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”
You look him up and down. “So?”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.
“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”
You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”
He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.
“Yeah. Yeah— I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.
“Which part were you reading?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway— she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”
Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.
“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”
You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.
“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my cock nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”
You finally halt at the words because he was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”
So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.
You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and come close. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.
This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.
“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”
The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.
“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”
You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.
The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.
“hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.
The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.
He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.
“fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his shoulder for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.
You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.
“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”
You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts. “Again.”
“Y-yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.
How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.
“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”
“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.
“No the fuck you’re not.”
Godammit.
Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.
Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”
“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”
Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.
“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”
He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.
“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.
And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”
You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”
You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.
“No. come here.”
You stare at him dumbfounded.
“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.
“My face, baby.”
Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”
You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.
“Sit.”
“Are you sure?” You clarify.
“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between his eyes. The only thing visible is his damp hair.
Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.
You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.
Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”
You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.
Shakily, you call out “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.
“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.
“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him past your hair.
“Hmphh?”
“I’m close— can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.
To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.
this was kinda rushed
©️hxltic
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ravenslvt · 13 days
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HII I'M OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITINGS ESPECIALLY THE HOT BROTHER RINTAROU AJWJSBSJSJJA 😭
can you write about him overstimulating and making his s/o squirting 👀
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☆ bf!suna rintarou x f!reader smut ☆
cw: smut! overstimulation, teasing, squirting, edging, oral f recieving, short but sweet!
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it started with a bluff.
“squirting is not a real thing. i guarantee no guy can actually make a woman do that” you scoffed after the topic was randomly brought up in a conversation with your boyfriend.
his eyebrow quirked.
“how much you wanna bet?”
“f-fuck rin!” you moan, his fingers jackhammering into your squelching cunt. you gripped his wrist as he layed you down on your shared bed.
he’d already made you cum once like this, this time his pace is faster, adding a third finger.
“s’too much!” you whine, trying to pull away from his touch as a second orgasm approaches, purley overstimulated from his fingers alone.
“oh, c’mon, baby. you wanted this, didn’t you?” his pace doesn’t rest, your wetness practically dripping down his wrist. you whimper as you feel yourself about to cum again, and you scream when he pulls away.
“whyy??” you pout up at him. you were completely naked and he was still fully clothed in his workout sweatpants and black compression shirt. he looked too fucking good. you could see the bulge of his hard cock through his pants. you reach your hand out to touch it, but he swats it away.
“this is about you, remember? i’ll fuck you as a reward after, okay?” he whispered, kissing you on the top of your head. you nod, pouting at your mean mean boyfriend. what a stupid bet.
“oh don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.” he kisses down your neck, sucking small marks into your collarbones. you mewl as he bites down. his hands reaching back to your thighs as he gets on his knees, your legs hanging off the bed. he grabs your legs to rest on his shoulders as he gives your clit small kisses.
you gasp when his tongue laps at your sopping folds like a starved man. your hands grip in his hair when he sucks on your clit, bringing up his hand to prod three fingers in your already abused hole.
with the combination of his fingers curling inside of you along with the intense suckling on your sensitive bud, your thighs start to shake around him.
“gonna cum, rin!” you whine. but right at the peak, he pulls away, denying your orgasm. you look at him with tears in your eyes, the feeling of your appending climax fading.
“hurts s’bad rinn, need to cum!” you squirm in his grasp. he just gives your pussy a slap, making you yelp.
“you’re such a needy fucking slut, baby. be patient.” he warns, wiping the stray tears from your eyes. you wanted to scream at your boyfriend, but you knew it would only egg him on.
“i hate you…” you mumble.
“hmm, what was that?” his head perks up from your cunt.
“i said i love you, rin!” you give him a fake smile. he rolls his eyes. his tounge teasing your pussy again, making your head roll back into the mattress.
he edged you at least three more times. maybe four? you lost count.
you were panting, sweat certainly dripping down your brow. the sheets below you were fucking soaking. and you still hadn’t squirted yet. he was holding back and you knew it.
your eyes rolled back as his mouth abused your needy cunt, switching between his tongue rolling over your clit and taking it between his mouth, sucking and gently grazing his teeth over it.
all while his three large fingers repeatedly brush over your g spot, curling and straightening out over and over until you were screaming.
finally, fucking finally, just when you thought he was gonna pull away and watch you squirm, he just fucked you harder with his mouth and fingers.
your thighs shook around his head, almost scared you were gonna bust his head open. his fingers pumped into you relentlessly, your screams getting louder and louder as your vision starts to get hazy, seeing black spots from the sheer stimulation.
you moan his name, babbling random incoherent pleas as you clench around his fingers. your boyfriend had made you cum dozens of times before, but this time felt… different.
your eyes screw shut as you shake uncontrollably, feeling yourself release onto his mouth and fingers. you felt yourself pulse around him, hips rutting into his mouth.
“that’s it, doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby, look at you!” suna praises, clear liquid coating his chin and the sheets below you. you’re panting intensely, using all of your strength to sit up to look down at your boyfriend who was grinning like a fucking madman.
“told you i could do it”
great, now you owe him.
the bet was taking the day off tomorrow so he could fuck you all day in bed. in your defense you didn't actually expect him to make you squirt!! rintarou is such a mean bf :( (but you still love him)
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masterlist check out my other suna stuff!! :)
a/n: ahh tysm for this ask!! <33 hehe sorry if it’s short but suna nation rise !!
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byunbqbes · 1 year
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HIGH TENSION SCENARIOS WITH HQ BOYS
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RIDING PUBLIC TRANSPORT – where it's peak hour on the train, and you're getting squashed against him. you can smell his minty deodorant and, if you're not imagining things, hear the thumps of his heart in his chest. (it's your fault for looking up at him through your eyelashes!!) when you're nearing your stop, he leans down and whispers in your ear, "we're getting off soon."
IWAIZUMI, ushijima, osamu, bokuto, daichi (SORRY IM NAMING ALL THE BEEFY MEN...)
TOUCHING SHOULDERS – you are watching a movie together when he starts getting comfortable and scoots closer, accidentally grazing his shoulder against yours. none of you are focusing on the movie and you're both thinking to yourselves, does this mean anything more?
akaashi, kita, KAGS (boy would start blushing SO much), kenma, sugawara, sakusa
SHARING A BED – awkwardly lying as far away from each other as possible, only to wake up with entangled limbs and your head on his chest. one of you wakes up first and quietly observes how peaceful the other looks and how beautiful they were with the soft morning sun kissing their skin.
yamaguchi, mattsun, ushijima, sugawara, hinata, SAKUSA (this man will literally ASK you to sleep further from him before unknowingly spooning you in his sleep lol)
PUTTING SOMETHING OUT OF YOUR REACH – he probably just showed you an unglam picture that he took of you, and you reached over to snatch his phone out of his hand. but he's quicker - he raises his phone above his head to make you jump for it. he smiles smugly while you whine, tiptoeing to the best of your efforts. both of you are suddenly very aware of the sudden proximity between you. tense silence ensues
kuroo, SUNA, oikawa, TSUKISHIMAdjkfnsdkfn, tendou, atsumu, bokuto??
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inspired by this tiktok: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8uasSBx/
🥐 reblogs are very appreciated!!
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tim-shii · 12 days
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a/n: im pretty sure this is my first work for haikyuu IM EXCITED I WANNA WATCH THE MOVIE ☹️ accept this offering 🫂 pspsps not beta 🤗 also the word pretty is overused .. i mean suna is pretty so 🧍‍♀️
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“babe, i’m home— woah! i didn’t know we were at this stage in our relationship. finally admitting you’re obsessed with me?”
“shut up, rin.” coming home after a practice match to you lazing around on the couch, wearing his shirt? a jaw dropping view. suna admires the way his band t-shirt hangs loosely around your figure. your hair is a wet mess, you must’ve just taken a shower, and your eyes are practically begging to be closed. yet, suna thinks you look as beautiful as ever. fuck. if you guys weren’t already married, he would’ve proposed to you right there and then because you just look so perfect right now.
the light from your phone illuminates your facial features. his eyes rake from your lashes down to your lips. that brings a smile to his face. he drops his bag by the door and stalks over to where you are, dropping his whole weight on you.
“rin! get off— you’re heavy and sweaty!” try as you might but an over six foot tall athlete boyfriend is not easy to push off. “but you love me!” he buries his head in your neck with a groan.
“if i didn’t, i wouldn’t have a ring with your name engraved on the inside.” you sighed in defeat. to say that suna rintaro is a stubborn man would be an understatement. he’s pettier than a five-year-old and throws tantrums when his affections are rejected or not reciprocated.
he pushes himself up with his arms beside your head and looks down at you with a grin that only means mischief. “you are so in love and obsessed with me that you steal shirts from my closet. aren’t you a cutie?” he squeezes your cheeks with a calloused hand and makes kissing noises. he’s so stupid, you think. you just wanna stupidly shut him up.
and so you did, pulling down his chin with a hand of your own. capturing his lips in a fervor kiss comes easy as breathing. you feel his breath hitch for a second before he returns the favor.
suna pulls away first, slapping a palm over your mouth after. (“mmph?!” you glared)
“you are a menace. taking advantage of a man like me? evil!” he pulls his palm away and bit your cheek.
“i married a drama queen.” you rolled your eyes.
“you love this drama queen!”
“you sure about that? what if i married you for your money? or i married you for your— i don’t know, looks.” suna narrows his eyes at you before a mischievous grin spreads across his pretty face.
“i don’t know, babe. your vows said otherwise. what was it again? i am the luckiest person alive to be standing with you today and to be facing life with you everyday—”
“liar! those weren’t my vows!” you shove a throw pillow on his pretty face. “that is so cringe, i would never say that.”
“you are cringe. you would a hundred percent say that. hell, you’ll say something even more cringe than that.”
“you’re the cringe one. running to the stands and kissing me in front of everybody right after a game that you lost!”
“hey! i’m sensitive about that.” of course, he pouts at you. a frown on his pretty face resembling a kicked puppy.
“you insulted my vows.”
“i did not insult your vows. i was just.. recalling and rephrasing them.”
“that wasn’t anything near my vows. how dare you. i didn’t sleep for three nights writing those.” suna attacks your face again. littering kisses all over your pretty face.
“rin, stop it— your fucking saliva—”
“i love you, too.” he murmurs, plopping a kiss tied with passion and adoration on your lips.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
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