Suna X Reader - Blog Posts

The biting section!!!!!! ESPECIALLY WITH KENMA, MIDORIA, MEGUMI, AND ALL THE OTHER SWEET BOYS!!!!!!

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄𝐒?

bitting: he loves marking your body, whether you two are doing nothing, but standing in line or doing the do. he’s always bitting your shoulders, upper neck and thighs, but it's mainly to keep himself from moaning or whimpering too loud.

“haah.” groaning in your ear with your body at maxium arch, continuously hitting against your cervix. "so much." whinny moans slipping past your lips within each second as your body jolted near the head board, "take it for me baby." he groaned in a low tone against your neck, thrust becoming harsher than before, his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as he lost control over his voice. "f-fuuck fuck." whining into your neck while his thrusts became sloppier, legs quivering as pleasure flooded your core. "bouta cum.. i-inside." a lovely tone left his voice before feeling warmth hover over your neck as you felt a hot stinging sensation. "mmmphm." a broken moan left your throat as strings of groans muffled against your neck.

— kenma, ARMIN, jean, sugawara, akashi, goshiki, MEGUMI, inumaki, yuta, takeda, midoriya

hickies: simply because he loves the seeing his marks on your body, basically telling anyone who glances in your direction that your already taken and that someone being him. he doesn't get off more than just admiring the marks alongside your neck and reminiscing on how they got there.

"just like that sweet girl." his hands placed on your waist bouncing you up and down his cock, heated bodies bumping against each other. "ahh fuuck." sweet moans left your lips as you threw you head back exposing the naked skin of your neck, inviting his tongue to glid across your skin as he began thrusting into your your pussy, repeatedly grinding against that sweet spot inside you while still bouncing you up and own. hips connecting as your tight cunt squeezed around him. "feels that good, yeah?" his mouth latched onto your skin once against as your insides began to turn, creaming on his dick.

— tsukishima, kuroo, KIRISHIMA, bakugo, iwazumi, ukai, geto, TOJI, eren, reiner, matsukawa, hawks, gojo, ace, CROCODILE, oikawa, suna, miya twinss, KID, ace

bitting & hickies: whatever comes to him in the moment happens. it's almost like an instict for him, but either way he loves marking your body with his mouth.

— TENDOU, denki, sukuna, aone, yamamoto, bokuto, sukasa, LUFFY, zoro

an: I’ll proofread tmrw!! sorry if there’s mistakes xx

tw! use of weed, slapping, hints of toxic relationship if u squint

been on suna tiktok lately and im so happy that we all collectively ageed of hc stoner!suna. bc imagine getting high w this man!! he just lights a fuckin blunt in front of u on ur front porch, its late and ur honestly so tired from school. ur bf just stares at u lazily w those hooded and zooted fucking eyes, the corners of his lips curling upwards into a sly smile. the blunt is on his lips and ur eyes travel down, ur throat getting dry. “what’yer lookin’ at?” he mumbles, blowing the smoke in front of ur face and ur coughing. “fuckin- rintaro you asswipe!” you yell, hearing suna laugh at ur response and doing the same action again. “wanna try it, princess?” he asks, passing u the blunt with a smug grin playing on his lips. you dont deny, however u do roll ur eyes before smoking the blunt nd puffing out the smoke towards suna. “holy shit, c’mere.” is all ur boyfriend says before he’s pulling u towards his lap, smoking the blunt bfore he throws it on the ground nd presses his lips to yours. u comply, obviously, arms hung loosely around suna’s neck while his tongue is down ur throat, exhaling the puff of smoke inside ur mouth w/ u pulling away; coughing. “fuck you,” u spat once more in between coughs, slapping suna on the face. “as u wish.” he smirks, pushing u off him as he stood up nd grabbed u by the hair.

You and him were sitting on his bed watching some stupid movie he put on for background noise, you sit up turning on your side looking at him. He turns his head to the side to look at you his face looking bored.

"..." "..." "do you wanna kiss?" you blurted looking at him, "yeah." he says, before pulling you into his lap. His large hand coming behind your head tangling his fingers into your hair pushing your head down, as he crashes his lips onto yours his hand pulling your head to the side by your hair to deepen the kiss.

--------

JJK -> GOJO <3 Choso <3 Geto <3 YUJI !!

HQ -> Atsumu <3 Kenma <3 Suna <3 Tendō <3 Hinata <3 Iwaizumi !!

----A/N - quick Drabble :3

006 - get laid

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ex!suna rintarō x singer! reader

hello im sorry u haven’t uploaded, i just started senior year and i have to keep my average to be able to achieve a scholarship

i made an edit bc for some reason the first two ss didn’t appear, idk if i didn’t upload them bc i was falling asleep??

suna hasn’t slept with anyone since his last time with y/n which was a year and months ago, but he felt that if he did it he would betray her

he also genuinely cannot bring himself to find any other girl attractive, he hasn’t tried but even if he did, he will fail

i read a fanfic abt tsukishima once where he could only get it up (if ykwim) with the reader, when he tried to sleep w a girl it wouldn’t get up, and i love that idea so it will probably be the same for suna(that fanfic is also the reason why i love exes to lovers)

suna also never tried to get laid bc in his mind hes still y/n’s, and he always had his hopes of getting back tg, he had never thought about the fact that she probably would get over him

thats bc suna knows he will never get over her, so he didn’t think she would

guess who suna wants to get laid by

atsumu and osamu are not being rude, they genuinely think y/n got over suna already (even though thats not the case)

osamu used to really hate the idea of his best friend dating his sister and they both forgetting abt him, but after seeing how in love they were, he became their biggest supporter

the count of days is how many days have passed since their breakup

@lvc-lv @renardiererin @3lectraheart @nyxlai @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @wooasecret @sonicsolos @dazqa @mfcherry @iluvhellokity @eclipticnikki @unhinged-atrocities @platimoonie @sp1ng @just-coreee @piopioo @sellomaybe @grassbutneo @toges-cough-syrup @peteunderoos @mfcherry @jaynawayna

@myromanempiree @jellysupremacy 

005 - 10 things i hate about you

ex!suna rintarō x singer! reader

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please ignore that i didnt crop the photos so u can see the actual time in whoch they were taken

theyre both accepting their feelings but it wont be that easy, i want this to be looooong

idk what to say for this chapter

the song that y/n “wrote” is i know you by faye webster

i started journaling and i use my pink pen to write stuff lmao

so i wrote the lyrics w my pink pen

only suna, tsukishima and her brothers know abt y/n only using her pink pen for songs or her diary, oikawa only assumed she was writing bc well she posts abt writing and then a cryptic message?

i added the little detail of y/n doing her a’s like the font instead of “𝙖” bc thats how i write my a’s LMAO

taglist (OPEN)

@lvc-lv @renardiererin @3lectraheart @nyxlai @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @wooasecret @sonicsolos @dazqa @mfcherry @iluvhelokity @eclipticnikki @unhinged-atrocities @platimoonie @sp1ng @just-coreee @piopioo

004-fangirl

ex!suna rintarou x singer!reader

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HELLO NEW UPDATE, so i kinda forgot reader was a famous singer but i promise she will live the famous lifee

so, since atsumu is rlly famous he has found a lot of insane girls who would do anything for his money

y/n is in denial because she uses the hatred as a mechanism to cover the hurt

or well in more detail if she hates him then she doesnt feel sad or thats what she thinks

honestly i havent planned what their break up was but i have an idea and just telling yall everything could have been saved if they both knew how to communicate

tsumu and samu are really nice and lovely brothers to y/n

kei called bc y/n said she wanted to talk about suna and honestly he still roots for them

but y/n ended up mentioning him once and talking about a lot other stuff for three hours straight

ofc kei listened to everything hes a good listener but he wont admit that he doesn’t mind that shes yapping his ear off

as yall have noticed in most chapters just one important thing happens and the next is humor, i want it to feel natural and not too rushed and i also love crack smaus so yes

they call y/n kid and kiddo even though shes 8 minutes older than atsumu and 13 minutes older than osamu

taglist (OPEN) :

@lvc-lv @renardiererin @3lectraheart @nyxlai @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @wooasecret @sonicsolos @dazqa

003-wattpad

ex!suna rintarou x singer!reader

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im not sure i like this chapter, also this is probs the only time theyll see each other for a while cause i love slow burns and i just dont want it to go too fast

so, kenma and kei def could go they just wanted y/n to go

suna isnt in denial anymore like y/n is, he knows shes the love of his life

i couldn’t not talk about matthew im so normal about him🩷

y/n used to get food for tooru or the whole team but she didn’t want to after suna joined the team

i love me a good slow burn enemies or exes to lovers with a lot of angst and then fluff at the end so get ready and i also love miscommunication LMAO

but also expect a lot of humor filler chapters bc i love crack smaus and bc i started this story impulsively and do not have it planned yet LMAO

im so normal about suna

also i got the idea of akaashi getting discounts from another au i just cant remember which one

taglist (OPEN)

@lvc-lv @renardiererin @3lectraheart @nyxlai @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @wooasecret

002-clinically insane

ex!suna rintarou x singer!reader

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more of this SMAU bc i have no social life WOO

so apparently according to my past self neither osamu nor atsumu have ever been in a relationship with a sane person

they just like their girls a little bit insane

y/n loves flirting with omi even if he never reciprocates, she does it to mess with his brother

atsumu is 100% against her dating his best friend after seeing how it turned out when she dated osamus best friend

y/n hasnt visited the twins apartment in a year because shes scared shell run into suna

im trying to make atsumu a lovable brother, because everyone always makes him annoying and i love atsumu :(

osamu changed the topic to his ex on purpose, he knew suna would get really sulky if they started talking about y/n in a serious way

y/n is a bit cray cray but its okay cause suna luvs it

taglist (OPEN):

@lvc-lv @renardiererin @3lectraheart @nyxlai

001-kiss on the lips

ex!suna rintarou x singer!reader

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next

im so normal about suna and him being a simp

i love justin bieber reaction pics😭

suna has definitely had on repeat yns new song and probably it made him feel even worse cuz its talking abt how shes happy when shes away from him

everyone knows suna was like IN LOVE with yn except for yn

suna was planning on proposing after their college graduation like this man was ready to settle down

instead they had a huge messy break up and he hasn’t had any serious relationship even if the break up was a year ago

suna wasnt that sad anymore until she released a new song and he was reminded of everything again

idk what to say abt yn LMAO

btw if it wasnt clear last ss is suna messaging samu

taglist (OPEN):

@lvc-lv @renardiererin

hell habitants

ex!Suna Rintarou x Reader

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ITS MSBY NOT MYSB SORRY WAS VERY SLEEP DEPRIVED!

also i didn’t say this before but y/n has suna blocked everywhere, including roblox and spotify and GMAIL LMAOO

sakusa, suna, atsumu and osamu are roomates

suna used to hate tsukishima because of how close he was to yn

like he would get really jealous and insecure

like suna was sure tsukishima and yn were in love with each other and it was only a matter of time for them to realize it and for yn to leave him

i do not blame him, remember they even call each other platonic soulmates? well he thought the platonic part was temporary

suna and tsukishima are chill now, hes even yns only friend to follow suna on his priv

this is because ever since the break up tsukishima was the only one willing to hear suna out and turns out hes not as bad when youre not competing against him

but that doesn’t mean suna’s heart doesn’t sting a bit every time he hears the names y/n and tsukishima together

yn hates suna and suna hates yn but she was the love of his life

suna follows y/ns main acc in his priv (secretly y/n follows rins main acc on her priv as well)

if yall didnt notice suna has yns merch site on his priv:(

Cell mates

ex!suna rintarou x singer!reader

mt list

hello, new AU WOO

y/n is Atsumu and Osamu’s triplet

shes also Suna’s ex

the dividers are by @cafekitsune

tsukishima not so secretly secretly loves y/n a lot, there was even a time where they romantically liked each other, but they just felt like they were more friends than anything else so they decided to just keep being friends, they love each other and believe they are platonic soulmates

they all are roomates even if none of them really needs one bc theyre all rich

im sorry that this is so cringe, im doing this for fun

Oikawa is part of the MYSB here bc i say so LMAO

HAPPY BDAY OIKAWA!!!!

yes the song is happier than ever by billie eilish and yes it is about suna looool

also if no one noticed, everyone except for kenma who has his youtube link, have y/n’s merch website on their bio to support her and kenma would put her link if he could put more than one too <3

i put 5 followers on her priv acc forgetting abt atsumu and osamu omg im so sorry, ill change it

Happier than ever

Ex!Suna Rintarou x Singer! Reader SMAU!

Voleyball player Suna Rintarou and famous singer Miya Y/n did not end in good terms, what happens when Y/n’s career starts growing and they have to meet each other?

TW: Exes to lovers, angst a lot of angst, jealous!Suna, kinda insecure! Suna, heartbroken! Y/n, fluff at some point, humor

INTRODUCTION

cell mates | hell habitants

001- kiss on the lips

002-clinically insane

003-wattpad

004-fangirl

005 - 10 things i hate about you

006 - get laid

007-

A/N: hello, its me again, im sorry i know i never finish the stories that i start, but im planning on continuing every story i haven’t finished, i just cant do much without wifi rn, for now enjoy!

Holy shii

Hes got you pinned beneath him , one hand pushing your knee to your chest and the other gripping the headboard.

His grin is sadistic as he pounds into. You're the absolute picture of bliss, chin covered in drool and eyes rolled into the back of your head. You clench around him tight and he responds with a harsh thrust. Your mindless babbling filled with 'I love you's and moans of his name spurr him on to thrust harder.

The wood of the headboard makes a satisfying crack as it splits. You hear him curse and you can barely register what happened before he pulls you down the bed away from the broken headboard and pushes his cock back into you.

"I don't care if we rip this entire room to shreds, I'm not stoppin' til you squirt all over me"

kentaro kiyoutani, daichi sawamura, rintaro suna, shugo meian, morisuke yaku, issei matsukawa, keishin ukai

He cups your pussy at the most random of times. It could be while watching a movie, when you feel the sheets dip and his big palm grasping between your legs or It could be while you are just talking to him about your day swaying side to side when you gasp feeling his callous fingers over your untouched covered core. Most of the times, It doesn't turn sexual, his hand lingers there for moments before he pulls away without a word, yet you could see the gleam of mischief and satisfaction in his eyes. You figure it's his way of possessiveness or satisfaction feeling your warmth ( something he had always asked your consent to) but sometimes, his finger dances around the edges, tracing your pussy lips or massaging them a gleeful smirk adorning his face at the small wet spot on your shorts.

—— SUNA RINTAROU, FUSHIGURO TOJI , MIYA ATSUMU, GOJO SATORU, EREN YEAGER, TSUKISHIMA KEI, OIKAWA TOORU, SUKUNA RYOMEN, MATSUKAWA ISSEI

Rivalry: Suna

This was supposed to be a career-maker.

You’d been selected to shoot the promotional campaign for the Japan National Volleyball Team’s off-season fundraiser—portraits, motion stills, and digital spreads for press releases. High-profile. High-pressure. This was the kind of assignment that could land you on the map, get your name known, secure you work for the next five years. You’d planned meticulously: shot schedules, lighting plans, subject rosters, backup batteries labeled by time stamp.

And still, you were already behind schedule because some players couldn’t grasp the concept of being on time.

Most were manageable. Bokuto was loud but sweet, Hinata actually listened, even Sakusa—grumpy and allergic to public attention—cooperated if you kept things sterile enough. You had to work around quirks, sure, but it was doable.

The only real problem?

Rintarō Suna.

Tall, smug, unbothered—he made disinterest an art form. It wasn’t just the tardiness (though that was frequent and infuriating). It was the casual disregard, the deliberate poking. Like he enjoyed watching you unravel, one eye-roll and bored shrug at a time. Like he thrived on getting under your skin.

You were halfway through setting up for his shoot—adjusting the overhead lights for the third time, irritation clawing at your spine—when the door creaked open.

12:17. Seventeen minutes late.

You didn’t look up. “You’re late.”

A pause. Then, his voice—dry, bored, and tinged with something close to amusement.

“Traffic.”

You glanced at him, eyes cold. “You live five minutes away.”

Rintarō Suna leaned against the doorframe like he’d just wandered in off the beach. Hoodie loose, hair messy, sweatpants slung far too low to be appropriate for professional media. His duffel bag hung lazily off one shoulder, and he was sipping a drink from a vending machine cup like he had all the time in the world.

“And yet,” he said, taking another slow sip, “I’m here. Aren’t you glad?”

“Take off your jacket and shirt,” you snapped, already adjusting your camera settings, fingers tight on the dial.

He blinked, exaggeratedly. “That’s aggressive.”

“No. You’re aggressive to my time.”

He didn’t move. Just gave you that flat look, the one that made your blood itch. “So bossy. Did no one ever teach you how to ask nicely?”

You dropped your hand from the camera, straightened to your full height, and glared. “Did no one ever teach you how to respect someone’s job?”

That actually made him smirk—low and slow, like he was settling into a familiar game. You watched his gaze flicker across the studio, land on your lighting setup, the gear cases lined up against the wall, the stool you’d carefully marked with tape for positioning. He took in every detail like none of it mattered.

You crossed your arms. “Shirt. Off. Or I’m switching you out with Komori and sending you to the end of the rotation.”

He gave a soft whistle. “Cold.”

“And still warmer than your sense of professionalism.”

Suna sighed like this was the hardest thing anyone had ever asked of him, but peeled off the hoodie in one slow pull. Then the shirt followed—revealing lean, cut muscle, smooth planes and sharp lines that even you had to admit photographed well. Unfortunately.

“Happy now?” he asked flatly, chest rising and falling with deliberate boredom.

You lifted your camera. “Hardly.”

Flash.

He winced, and you didn’t hide the satisfied smirk that flickered over your face.

“Consider that payback for last week,” you said, angling for another shot. “You were thirty-five minutes late and came in with an iced matcha.”

“Should’ve brought you one,” he muttered, half to himself.

“You wouldn’t survive the fallout.”

“I’d go down smiling.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. “God, you’re infuriating.”

“I get that a lot.”

He settled into the chair you’d positioned, slouching immediately, arms dangling over the sides like a ragdoll. You hissed under your breath and gestured for him to sit up.

He stared at you. “You’re fun when you’re mad.”

“And you’re only photogenic when you shut up.”

You lifted the lens again. Behind it, you scowled.

I hate him. The thought pulsed with every snap of the shutter.

And of course—of course—he looked like a goddamn magazine cover. But in the same fashion, he rarely made it easy for you to capture it.

Because here you were, staring down the barrel of a nightmare: the man himself, draped across the chair like it was a hammock, posture all wrong, arms sprawled like he didn’t have a single working bone in his body. Slouched so far down he could have been auditioning for the role of human puddle.

"Back straight," you barked from behind the camera, adjusting your focus ring with a little more aggression than necessary. "Stop slouching."

He didn’t budge. If anything, he leaned further into the chair, eyelids heavy with boredom, like your orders were more of a gentle breeze than direct instruction.

"Suna."

He tilted his head at a lazy angle, all dry amusement and half-lidded interest. "I am straight."

You set the camera down. Firmly. The slap of the base against the table echoed far louder than it needed to.

He didn’t flinch. Of course he didn’t. He just watched you approach like you were the most interesting thing to happen all day, which you knew damn well wasn’t a compliment. His gaze slid over your body with that practiced, bored sort of curiosity, like he was cataloguing all the ways you might explode.

You stepped into his space, squatted slightly behind the chair, and shoved a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t react. Didn’t resist. Just let you press into the muscle there and guide him upright like he was a mannequin.

"There," you muttered, voice tight. "Like that. Hold it."

A beat of silence. Then: "You touch all your clients like this?"

Your hand dropped instantly. "Only the ones who act like toddlers."

He chuckled, low in his throat, and the sound crawled over your skin like static. "That explains a lot."

You turned on your heel, ready to toss something back, but froze mid-pivot when you saw his eyes.

They weren’t where they were supposed to be. Not on the lights, or the set, or even your face.

They were on your hands.

Lingering.

He blinked slowly, like he wasn’t even pretending to hide it. And when his eyes flicked up to meet yours, there was something in them that hadn’t been there before. Something molten. Heavy. A heat that made your stomach pitch and your spine go stiff.

"You done staring?" you snapped, jaw clenched.

He shrugged, as if the motion took effort. "Didn’t say it was a bad view."

You turned so fast you nearly tripped over a light stand, heart thundering in your ears. The temperature in the studio was suddenly unbearable.

You didn’t want this heat.

"Hands on your thighs," you bit out. "Chin down. Eyes here."

He obeyed—not quickly, but without any more smartass comments. For once, the air between you felt still. But it wasn’t calm. No, it was charged. Like the moment before a summer storm—hushed, tense, humming with something about to break.

You snapped three photos. Then five. Then a dozen more. Through the viewfinder, he was a dream. The kind of subject you could build an entire portfolio around. Not because he was cooperative—God no. But because he was magnetic in a way that made you want to curse.

Every line of his body, every tilt of his head, the lazy sprawl that shouldn’t have worked on camera but did? It translated into something raw. Compelling. Something that sold.

You adjusted the lens. Moved closer. Framed his face in the shot. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just stared straight through the camera like he knew it would rattle you.

And then he smiled.

Not a real one. Not the wide, winning kind the sponsors loved. Just the faintest pull of one corner of his mouth. Just enough to sharpen his cheekbone and twist his mouth into something between a smirk and a secret.

Click.

The flash snapped.

You dropped the camera from your face, brow furrowed.

"You smiled."

"You looked like you needed the win."

You wanted to scream.

Instead, you checked the preview screen. And sure enough, it was perfect. Lighting. Angles. Expression.

Damn him.

You turned the screen toward him like it was a slap.

"You’re welcome," he said, not even looking.

"You’re not that charming."

"But I am photogenic."

Your teeth ground together so hard your jaw ached.

You hated that he was right.

And you hated even more that he knew it.

Jealousy: Suna (NSFW)

The night had no plans. And that was the plan.

Warm lamplight painted the apartment in soft amber hues, flickering gently across a half-finished bottle of wine, socks abandoned near the doorway, and the lazy sprawl of two bodies tangled beneath a fleece blanket on the couch. Outside, the city murmured in the distance—traffic, wind, someone’s music a few blocks away. But here, the only sounds were the low thrum of a playlist you both forgot to turn off and the occasional clink of glass as you sipped.

Suna Rintarou sat at the opposite end of the couch, half-lidded eyes drifting toward the TV screen though he hadn’t looked at it in twenty minutes. One knee bent, the other foot on the floor, hoodie loose around his shoulders, collarbone peeking out where the fabric hung unevenly. His phone rested facedown on the coffee table—abandoned, for once.

You lay curled into the armrest, sipping your wine, cheek pressed into the pillow, watching him with the slow, foggy fondness of someone three glasses deep and completely content.

He looked relaxed. Comfortable. Maybe a little too smug.

"You ever get bored of being effortlessly cool?" you asked, voice low and amused.

Suna didn't even glance at you. “You ever get bored of talking out your ass?”

You smirked into your glass. “Mm. Nope.”

The silence between you was warm. Familiar. Filled with shared breath and the lazy weight of the night.

After a moment, you tapped the side of your glass with your fingernail and looked over at him, eyes half-lidded. “Wanna play something?”

Suna raised an eyebrow without moving. “Like what?”

You shrugged, smiling. “Truth or dare.”

He blinked slowly. “…What is this, a middle schooler’s basement?”

You laughed and kicked him in the thigh with your socked foot, not even hard. Just enough to say shut up.

Suna grunted on impact, shooting you a narrowed glance as his hand caught your ankle under the blanket.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said.

“You love me,” you shot back easily.

He didn’t answer—just let your leg go and leaned forward to set his glass down on the table with a soft clink.

“Fine,” he said, finally. “You first.”

The couch creaked quietly beneath you as you shifted upright, adjusting the blanket to pool at your waist. Your glass was nearly empty now, fingers curling loosely around the stem while your legs curled underneath you. Suna stayed reclined, eyes on you now with that low-burn stare—quiet, unreadable, like he was already trying to guess what you’d ask.

You toyed with the rim of your glass, lips twitching. “Okay. Truth or dare?”

His answer came without hesitation. “Truth.”

Of course. It was always truth with him. He’d rather be caught dead than do something performative, especially under your watchful, goading eye. Suna Rintarou didn’t dance for anyone—but he’d let you look inside, if only a little.

You hummed, pretending to think, even though you’d already decided. “What was your first impression of me?”

He scoffed softly, dropping his head back against the cushion and staring at the ceiling for a beat before turning his gaze lazily toward you again. “Honestly?”

“Obviously.”

“You were annoying.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Wow.”

“In a cute way,” he added with a lazy grin.

You lifted your leg and nudged his thigh again. “You’re cruising for another kick.”

“Worth it,” he muttered, taking a sip of his drink.

He set the glass aside again, arm draping along the back of the couch behind you, fingers brushing the fabric near your shoulder.

“My turn,” he said.

You met his gaze, chin raised. “Hit me.”

“Truth or dare?”

You grinned. “Truth.”

Suna’s eyes lingered on your face for a beat too long. Then: “Top three best times you’ve ever had in bed.”

You blinked. Hard.

A short laugh escaped you. “Are you—seriously?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “You asked.”

Your cheeks warmed—not from embarrassment, but from the audacity. He was leaning into the cushion now, head tilted slightly, eyes hooded, watching your reaction like he was tracking the slow spread of heat across your skin.

“Okay,” you said finally, placing your glass on the coffee table. “Fine.”

You sat back and raised three fingers.

“Number one…” you began, grinning. “That night you came home after being gone for four days? Didn’t even make it to the bedroom. You dropped your bag and practically tackled me into the wall.”

Suna made a small, satisfied sound in his throat, but didn’t interrupt.

“Number two: the kitchen. I don’t even remember what started the fight, but you shut me up pretty effectively.”

His lips twitched, the barest hint of smugness there now.

You raised your third finger—and then paused. Let the silence stretch.

“And number three,” you said, tone suddenly breezy, “was probably this one time with my ex.”

Suna didn’t react at first.

Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

You waited.

Then he turned his head slightly, slow and measured, like processing a minor glitch in a system. His eyes dragged across your face. He looked calm. Relaxed. His arm still hung behind your shoulders.

“You’re putting someone else on that list?” he asked quietly.

You smiled, feigning innocence. “Didn’t think you’d be the jealous type.”

“I’m not,” he replied.

Then he shifted.

His legs uncrossed, knees spreading slightly as he leaned forward, forearms braced on his thighs, eyes still locked on yours.

“I’m competitive.”

You opened your mouth to respond—something flirty, maybe a little smug—but before you could speak, he was already moving.

One hand slid behind your neck, the other gripping the back of your thigh, and he pulled you forward in one fluid motion. Your knees hit either side of his hips as he dragged you into his lap, not rough, but not exactly gentle either. It was purposeful. Controlled.

You gasped softly, wine-blushed hands flying to his shoulders for balance. The heat of his body met yours in a slow burn as his mouth grazed your jaw, barely touching, the edge of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Third place,” he murmured. “You serious?”

You opened your mouth to tease him—but he cut you off with a kiss.

It wasn’t soft.

It was deep and slow and toeing the line between affection and punishment, his tongue sliding into your mouth like it belonged there, like he was reclaiming territory he thought he already owned. One of his hands found your lower back, pressing you flush against him, your hips cradled perfectly against the slow, rising hardness beneath his sweats.

He pulled back just enough to murmur, “You said top three, right?”

Your breath hitched.

He tilted his head slightly. “Let’s make it a clean sweep.”

You never made it to the bedroom.

You didn’t even make it to your feet.

Suna laid you back against the couch with a quiet, measured ease, like he was tucking you into something soft instead of preparing to ruin you. The throw pillows shifted behind your shoulders as he moved over you, the heavy drag of his hands along your thighs lighting every nerve with anticipation.

Your shirt was still on. Your panties, around your knees. Everything else was tossed aside: the rules, the game, the ex you’d mentioned like it wouldn’t cost you everything.

His fingers gripped the backs of your knees, pushing your legs apart until you were open—displayed—for him and only him. You felt the chill of the air hit your slick skin, and then the warm press of his palms smoothing up your inner thighs like he was marking them.

You were already wet. Ridiculously so. The kind of wet that made your skin sticky and your mind hazy. He hadn’t even touched you properly and you were half gone.

Suna didn’t speak. Didn’t ask. Just lowered himself between your legs and settled in like this was his seat.

The first press of his tongue was slow. A long, deliberate drag from your entrance up to your clit, tasting you like he already knew exactly what he was about to do.

You gasped—back arching, fingers twitching against the cushions as his mouth closed around your clit, lips plush and wet, tongue circling until your thighs trembled.

He moaned, low and hungry, like you were a meal he’d waited all day for. And then he began to eat.

It wasn’t messy. It was precise. Calculated. He licked in slow, repeating patterns, pressure building perfectly with every stroke. The couch dipped under his weight as he adjusted, one hand splayed across your stomach to keep you pinned, the other trailing over your thigh with soft, absentminded affection.

Your hips tried to move—tried to chase the friction—but he held you there.

“You taste better when you beg,” he murmured into you, voice deep and quiet like it wasn’t meant to be heard. His lips never left your skin.

You whimpered, hands flying to his hair, gripping the strands like you were trying to ground yourself. You couldn’t.

Your first orgasm crept up before you could stop it—warm and relentless, your stomach tightening as he flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit in tight, practiced circles. You shook beneath him, thighs clamping instinctively, voice cracking as you gasped—

“Rin—oh my god—Rin—”

“That’s one,” he murmured.

He didn’t stop.

He pushed two fingers inside you, slow and deep, curling them up until you let out a sharp, broken moan. You were already pulsing, already drenched, and he was fucking into you with just his fingers and tongue like he had all night to unravel you.

The second orgasm hit harder.

You choked on it, the pleasure sweeping through your body in sharp, dragging waves, so intense your fingers went numb and your vision blurred. You tried to close your legs again. He held them apart, fingertips digging into your thighs like they belonged there.

“I’m not done,” he said simply.

You were crying now—soft, helpless tears slipping down your cheeks, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You didn’t know if you were begging for more or begging him to stop. Your body didn’t care. It wanted everything.

“Rin,” you whimpered. “I can’t—”

“You can.” His tongue flattened against your clit, firm and unrelenting. “I know you can.”

Your third orgasm snapped like a thread pulled taut too long. Your body shook, hips jerking off the couch, mouth open in a soundless cry. Your hands were everywhere—gripping the cushions, his hair, your own thighs—anything.

He finally pulled away, lips and chin slick with you, and looked up through his lashes like he was barely winded. His hand was still working inside you, fingers slow and deep, pressing against that soft spot that had your toes curling.

“Still thinking about him?” he asked softly.

You couldn’t speak.

Suna kissed the inside of your thigh. “Didn’t think so.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood, shoving his sweatpants halfway down before sinking back onto the couch—grabbing your hips and hauling you down the cushions like you weighed nothing.

Your back hit the armrest, legs dangling off the edge, and he was lining himself up in seconds.

You felt the press of him at your entrance—thick, hot, already leaking—and then he pushed in.

You moaned—loudly, mouth falling open as he filled you inch by inch. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt, the stretch so deep it made your whole body arch.

He stilled, breathing hard through his nose, eyes on your face.

“So tight,” he muttered. “So fucking wet. You’re shaking.”

He pulled out halfway—slammed back in.

You cried out, nails dragging down the armrest as he fucked into you, hard and deep, every thrust sending shockwaves up your spine. The couch rocked. Your body bounced. And all you could do was take it.

He found your clit again—this time with his thumb—and rubbed tight, fast circles that had your fourth orgasm snapping violently through you, your cunt clenching so hard around him he cursed under his breath.

“You gonna come again?” he murmured, hips still snapping into yours. “You gonna give me five?”

You sobbed. “Rin—yes—yes, I can’t—”

“Yeah, you can,” he whispered. “You will.”

The final orgasm came like nothing you’d ever felt.

You screamed—loud, raw, pleasure flooding every part of you. Your entire body went stiff before it collapsed, twitching, legs trembling as you came so hard your ears rang.

Suna groaned deep in his chest, fucking you through it until he came too—hips jerking, cock pulsing inside you as he filled you up with every last drop.

When he stilled, you were ruined.

Sweaty, twitching, wrecked.

He leaned over you, pressing kisses to your temple, your jaw, your cheek, as your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths.

The air smelled like sex and sweat and your perfume still clinging to his hoodie.

You didn’t move.

You couldn’t.

He kissed your shoulder once more, nuzzling into the space just below your ear, then whispered—

“So…”

A pause.

“Did I make the leaderboard?”

Your brain was mush. Your limbs were jelly. Your body was still throbbing.

And all you could do… was nod.

Suna smiled.

“Good.”

Favourite Positions: Suna

Suna Rintaro was patient. Too patient.

He liked to take his time, to watch, learn, memorize—every reaction, every sharp inhale, every way your body responded to his touch. He was never in a rush. Never let his ego get ahead of him. But this?

This was new.

You were pinned beneath him, legs hooked around his waist, your body shaking as he pushed into you—deep, slow, relentless. His hands were firm against your thighs, keeping you open, keeping you exactly where he wanted. The feeling of your warmth wrapped so tight around him sent a slow, burning pleasure through his spine, but what really had him losing his mind was you.

The way your breath stuttered every time he rolled his hips. The way your nails scraped at his arms, your legs twitching as he stretched you out. The way you gasped his name like it was the only word you knew.

And then it happened.

The moment he angled his hips just right, just deep enough to press against that sweet spot—

Your breath hitched—

Your entire body tensed—

And then, you came.

Fast. Hard. Too hard.

Suna felt it, the way your walls squeezed him tight, the way your legs locked up, a choked cry breaking past your lips. The way your hands clawed at his back, searching for anything to hold onto as you shattered underneath him.

He stilled—just for a second—his sharp eyes flicking up to watch you completely fall apart beneath him.

Oh.

Oh, yeah. This was it.

A slow, wicked smirk stretched across his lips. He liked that.

"Didn’t even last a minute," he murmured, voice low, teasing, smug.

You barely registered his words, your body limp, your mind foggy with the aftershocks. But Suna wasn’t done.

He let you catch your breath for a second, his hands rubbing slow, lazy circles over your thighs. But then—

He pressed his weight into you, rolling his hips again—deeper, slower this time, dragging out the pleasure until you gasped, your body twitching from oversensitivity. And he felt it. The way you clenched involuntarily, still on edge, still sensitive.

"Oh?" His grip on your thighs tightened, his smirk deepening as his voice dipped into something darker, lower. “Still sensitive?”

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as you whimpered, your nails digging into his arms. He was going to have fun with this.

One of his hands left your thigh, sliding up the length of your body—slow, teasing, purposeful—before wrapping around your throat, his thumb brushing over your pulse. His mouth hovered just above yours, his breath warm, teasing, his words coated in amusement.

"That was too fast, baby," he murmured, tilting his head slightly, watching your dazed expression with something like satisfaction. "Guess that means this is my new favorite."

His thumb pressed against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him. His dark, lidded gaze roamed over your features, soaking in the flush on your cheeks, the parted lips, the way your chest heaved. You were wrecked. And that made something primal twist in his stomach. He wanted to see it again.

So he moved.

Slow. Deep. Unrelenting.

The pace was different this time—no teasing, no holding back. He wanted to feel you come apart again. Wanted to feel your walls flutter around him, to watch you drown in the sensation. He wanted to chase that reaction again and again until it was burned into him.

"Too much?" he mused, his voice dripping with false innocence as his thrusts got sharper, pushing you right back toward that edge.

Your response was lost between a gasp and a moan, and Suna grinned.

"Nah, I think you can take it," he murmured. "You were made for this, weren't you?"

You barely had time to process his words before he angled his hips just right again— and that coil in your stomach snapped.

Your head tilted back, a cry tearing from your lips as pleasure flooded through you, crashing over you even harder than the first time.

Suna groaned, feeling your body clamp down around him, squeezing him so tight that his rhythm stuttered for half a second. His grip on your throat loosened, his hand sliding down to grasp at your waist instead, holding you steady as you shook beneath him.

"Fuck," he muttered, watching the way your body trembled, the way your fingers scrambled at the sheets. He let his hips slow, dragging out your high, letting you feel every second of it.

And when you finally collapsed, boneless and wrecked beyond belief, Suna pressed a kiss to your jaw, his smirk returning as he murmured—

"Yeah... definitely my favourite."

I’ll update my masterlist soon while I’m on my little mini hiatus- only a week and half left of school, I’ll be back soon!!!

(In the meantime please leave request, I love getting them!!!)

-Liv xoxo

As a woman in America today I feel so defeated

If you have an recommendations for fluff or anything soft, please send them my way that’s all I ask🫶🏻

Idk if something’s off with my tumblr or what but like I’m just seeing the same stuff that I’ve already liked or reblog over and over in my dashboard and it’s just driving me nuts. And when I go to search manually for stuff I’m seeing the same stuff too or barely any new content.

I just wanna read fanfics bro why you gotta act up now :/

(I’ve tagged a bunch of my interests so if you have recs that you wanna give or tag me that’d be so wonderful my loves🫶🏻)