Hate Sex With Suna Rintarou Mdni

hate sex with suna rintarou — mdni

summary: suna made your life a living hell the moment you joined the EJP coaching team, and he loved every second of it. after months of dealing with his torment, you finally call him in your office to end the feud once and for all.

cw: smut, unprotected sex, hate sex lol [2.4k] barely edited

HQ MASTERLIST — OSAMU || ATSUMU

“a word in my office, please?”

suna rintarou looked over his shoulder towards his teammates preparing to leave, a smirk plastered on his face, “am i allowed to say no?”

with a soft close of your eyes, you shook your head at the man before turning your heel, heading towards the only place you found safe from his torment, while ruining it in the process as you invited him in.

suna loved to torture you. you didn’t know why, and to be fair, he wasn’t exactly sure either. he took pride in being able to get under your skin so easily, yet you always covered it up without a second thought, and it pissed him off. you’d always offer a simple smile to remain professional despite his insulting words and he couldn’t figure out why.

curiosity filled him more on where exactly you drew boundaries, and as much as he loved to ruin the gym floor you recently cleaned with his muddy shoes, you never seemed to speak up. constantly letting him walk over you as if you were a doormat grew amusing to him, and he swore that he’d continue until he no longer could.

even provoking you during practice became a habit of his. whether it was refusing your advice or stretching on his own accord, nothing ever pushed you far enough to give him that reaction he so desperately wanted from you. for his ‘sweet little coach’, yn, to snap.

and perhaps you would have snapped earlier if you hadn’t noticed his late stays in the gym alone, where he specifically stayed out of eye to practice the advice you had given him earlier. or maybe how he’d immediately switch up when you came into view, his façade returning along with insulting words.

not only was suna rintarou a rude man, he was complicated as well. his mixed signals did nothing but confused you, and in the process he confused himself as well. you realized that only weeks after meeting him, and he had came to the same conclusion about you.

because as you pondered on sunas real goal while watching him practice alone, he wondered why you didn’t use your authority against him.

being a coach, you could easily bench suna; suspend suna. you could do anything to ruin his career, yet you don’t. always improving his game and including him in each of the sets. his attitude was endless, yet you didn’t budge.

not one bit.

although he complained about following, he still found his legs following yours, eyes trailing down your back and to your hips as he’s done countless times. the bounce in your walk becoming way too familiar as he watched you closely, shamelessly to any open eyes but your own.

closing the door behind him, you approached the front of your desk, leaning against it with crossed arms. the disappointing look you displayed was something he had grown accustomed to, something he learned to love throughout the many months of knowing you.

his body stood far, but it still seemed to tower over you. anyone in this situation may have responded differently as he radiated self-proclaimed authority over you, yet you didn’t seem to care. his ego meant nothing to you.

the smirk on his face irked you enough though, as he dug his way into your nerves without saying a single word. the hold from rolling your eyes being a burden, one he always seemed to force you to carry while in his presence, and he knew that.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?” his voice snaked it’s way into your ears, sarcasm rolling naturally off his tongue as it normally did.

“is there something i did?” you asked, finally sparing the man a glance, one he didn’t know his body was begging for silently until received, “anything to earn this disrespect from you?”

the snap within you he yearned for seemed to approach, the malicious look he presented becoming even more as you continued to press on.

“i try very hard to be reasonable, to be a good coach, yet,” your words trailed off as you shook your head, refusing to blame yourself for a grown mans actions, “you don’t seem to care.”

“i do care.”

“do you?”

his feet slightly danced beneath him as he observed the surroundings of your office. the small accent pillows decorating the seats, or the small polaroids of your outside life stuck on the wall. he took it in as he wondered how to approach your confrontation, taking his sweet time so that your remaining patience ran thinner.

“you annoy me,” he admitted, taking a few feet closer while still avoiding your gaze, “so much.”

“i’ve done nothing but do my job.”

“and you’re annoying.”

standing up from the desk, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks in anger. his body came closer once you stood, his hands resting in his pockets as he stared smugly down at you.

“you have no right,” pressing a finger to his chest, his smile grew even bigger, “absolutely no right to treat me the way you do.”

suna knew how he felt about you. his actions towards you made no sense in his mind, but he knew what he longed for. those puffy cheeks you gave him were enough for him to recognize the rare beating in his chest, and maybe the tightness of his pants. how your screams at the team were nothing more than fuel to his imagination of you in his bed, muffling around his cock.

your finger continued to dig deep before his hand grabbed it, the tingling sensation in his body growing as his perverted thoughts grew once more at the feeling of your soft skin, “i have every fucking right to feel the way i do.“

his feet moved forward, forcing yours back. the angered look now turning into hesitation as your backside hit the edge of your desk, legs voluntarily spreading so he could stand between them.

“i hate the way you hug komori after each practice,” running his hand up your side and to your face, he gripped your jaw tightly toward his, “and i hate the way you let tatsuki drive you home some nights.”

“and that’s my fault?” your words were hot against his lips as he held you close by the waist, eyes staring into yours, tension thick against your skin as his nose brushed against your own.

“it’s all your fault.”

breaking the gap, his mouth crashed onto yours viciously, hands gripped your waist as he wasted no time to grind against your core. your arms wrapped around his neck as he growled in the kiss, fingers carding through his hair with a harsh tug.

suna knew this would happen eventually. he refused to not have his way, no matter how long it took. maybe you knew it was going to happen too when he secretly locked the door as he closed it, but it didn’t matter now as his tongue invaded your mouth greedily, saliva combining as your head fell back with his force.

“touch me after practice,” he grumbled against your skin as he made his way down your neck, relishing at the moans you let out as he marked his territory, “let me drive you home.”

he played with the buttons of your shirt before tearing it off, attacking your breast with his mouth as his fingertips dug in the arch of your back, “tell me i’m better than them.”

“you want me to lie to you?”

the clasp against your back was let go easily as he began to remove your pants, neglecting his own clothes as you whined, pushing your hands away from the hems of his shirt.

“let me take care of you,” his words were muffled against your stomach, pushing your back onto your desk and pulling the rest of your clothes as you kicked your shoes off, “i can take care of you better than they can.”

“i doubt it.”

playing with your now exposed folds, the needy spread of your legs formed a tent in his pants as he salivated at the thought of finally being able to taste you, “you won’t be saying that soon, pretty girl.”

he groaned as his face met your cunt, the wetness he’d already cause between your legs enough for him to cum on the spot. you tensed against him as he searched for the perfect spot, his long digits finding home within you to add to the pleasure.

“say my name,” he hummed against your clit, the vibrations tickling you in the perfect way, “scream my name.”

“f…fuck.” your body curved against the desk as his fingers curled against your sweet spot, sucking on the spot near your nub that had your clenching the most.

“what’s my name?”

“su…suna, ‘m gonna, fuck,” your angelic cries had his free hand leave your hip to palm himself through his pants, precum already leaking through, “suna please.”

“that’s not my name, baby.” his words were condescending as you lifted your head to pull him closer to your clit, his eyes staring back up filled with a troublesome glint of lust.

“rintarou, please, please,” your words were broken between each pant as your climax was near. his smile was felt against your slick as he increased his pace to fulfill your pleads, “feels s’good.”

“there you go, baby.”

your walls clenched against his fingers as his tongue slid down to collect your new liquids, his hair messy as it left your hands. your head fell back as your body relaxed, your heaving chest blocking the view for only moments before he stood over you.

completely clothed, his smug look never faded as he observed your naked body shake below him from just a single orgasm, “damn, when’s the last time someone fucked you?”

“what the fuck does that mean?” you propped your body up with irritation, his patronizing words once against digging deep under your skin.

he laughed in response as he tore his shirt off, your eyes widening at the way his muscles flexed against his other movements. removing the rest of his clothing swiftly, he made his way towards you with his cock in hand.

you were shocked, to say the least. he was large, bigger than anyone you’ve had before, veins thick against his girth as he pumped himself a few times, precum smeared against his tip from his arousal.

“you gonna answer my question, pretty girl?”

his hands found the small of your back once again as he laid you down gently, his sudden change in demeanor giving you whiplash as he watched you from above. rubbing his tip against your swollen clit, he threw his head back at the pleasure, grinding himself against your wetness before swearing to corrupt you completely.

“it’s been a while,” you admitted as he continued to press against your sensitive spots, his length finally finding your core, but not pushing through, “fuck, it’s been a while.”

“how long?” his eyes focused on your reaction as his tip slowly slid in, the slow and small thrusts entering you forcing your eyes to roll back from the stretch.

“months,” you breathed out, embarrassment filling your cheeks, “almost a year.”

he laughed once more, except this time it was different; as if he was baffled. his thrusts became harder, watching as you continued to swallow him whole inch by inch, the wet noises already filled the room as his balls slapped your skin when he fully entered, eyes clenching tight at the sensation.

“untouched for a year?” he mumbled to the ceiling, his hands gripping harshly against your plump thighs as the desk began to shake against his intensity, “i’ll make sure that never happens again.”

his pace was hungry as sweat filled the strands of his hair, eyes focused on how your tits bounced, or how your hands were pulling his shoulders closer to you. your nails successfully found his back as his chest flushed against your intimate skin, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you felt rewarding as your cries grew louder.

he sucked in a sharp breath as you pulled your legs up for a better angle, biting his lower lip to muffle any noise leaving his lips.

“what’s my name?”

“r…rintarou,” you whined as he pulled out fully, slamming back into your hips continuously to see the broken look of your features.

“louder.”

“rintarou!”

his muscles tensed at your touch, your walls tightening close around him, pushing you both into that peak you were seeking.

“almost there, pretty?” his hands rubbed your tender thighs, the gratification at the weak shake of your head sending him over, “good.”

his movements became harsher, yet sloppy. the end neared as you finally contracted against him, your orgasm pushing him into submission as he folded forward even more. clenching against him, milking every drop of his seed into you with the friction of each thrust. the spasm had him push one last fuck into you, stars filling his vision as you looked towards him lovingly.

a look that disregarded any ill words exchanged from the last few months, a look that spoke of a growing love.

his lips attacked yours once more as he still sat inside you, a combination of both of your arousal dripping onto the desk from your shaking thighs.

“suna rintarou,” you spoke softly against his plump lips, his green eyes watching yours with care as his hold against your waist kept you close.

“say the words, baby,” he whispered, every ounce of negativity that once filled his body now nonexistent as he finally obtained what he longed for, “say the words and i’m yours.”

“suna rintarou,” you repeated, stroking your hand against his jaw, “i’ve been wanting to do this since the day i met you.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah,” giggling at his sudden change in energy, you dealt the final blow, “starting today and ending three weeks from now, you are suspended from any official games that EJP plays in.”

“what-“

“if your behavioral issues continue, you’ll be arranged a meeting with the rest of the supervisory team and your position may be re-evaluated.”

pushing him off your body to grab your clothes that littered the floor, you peaked over you shoulder with the same look he gave his friends minutes prior, “that is all, suna. you may leave now.”

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the day that satoru proposes to you is the same day that satoru marries you.

he asks you to be his wife in the morning, and by the afternoon he takes you to the city hall where you fill out the papers together, then an hour later it’s official—you’re bound together as husband and wife.

from the day he was born, gojo’s wedding had always been anticipated as a grand affair. sorcerers from far and wide were to gather and witness the expansion of the gojo clan. it would be a several-day long event, one planned intricately by the higher-ups with no room for the bride and groom themselves to have a say in any aspect.

which is precisely why satoru, ever so spiteful of the higher-ups, says “hey, wanna elope?” you’re practically married anyway, and have been for as long as you can remember. his love for you has never wavered—only he went from wanting to move the moon for you to now wanting to move the entire universe for you.

your “wedding dress” is a satin white minidress that makes you look like you’re going to a fancy brunch, not to your own marriage. satoru’s in a pressed white shirt and slacks. to anyone else you’re no more than a young couple going for a date; hands clasped together as you roam down the street, identical glimmering gazes when you stare at one another.

your husband suddenly drags you into a jeweller as you pass by it. he hadn’t bought you an engagement ring, let alone wedding bands, so he lets you pick out a pair of silver rings: diamond studded for you and a far simpler one for him. you can hardly take your eyes off it once it’s on; a perpetual reminder of your commitment to gojo satoru.

the wedding reception takes place in a sushi go. you and satoru order far too much food between you, but it’s okay, you’ll just get it to go and have it for lunch tomorrow. you feed the pieces of a fish into satoru’s mouth the same way you did on one of your first dates with him, but now when you look at him and at the spot of soy sauce at the corner of his lips, you see the man you’re spending the rest of your life with.

satoru takes you to a park afterwards. he carries two bags of leftover sushi in his hands, but still he manages to intertwine his fingers with yours. the sun is still high in the sky, with only some splotches of cloud here and there. you find a spot under a cherry blossom by the river that runs through the park and settle there, you between satoru’s legs, nestled into his chest.

everything about the day is ordinary. birds sing their songs. kids run about in fits of giggles. people will start coming home from work soon. you and satoru are married now and it was so ordinary. no extravagant celebrations, no family, friends, or colleagues to witness it. just you and your lover.

with a content sigh, you wonder out loud. “how should we tell people?”

he smiles, far too rapt by the bliss of having his wife in his arms to bring himself to think. “let them figure it out.”

絵柄変わってたよ^^

tw: hints at underage drinking

Sakusa Kiyoomi would never admit it, but you're his best friend.

When people look at the two of you, he sees the lingering question of "how are they friends?" and he understands, he really does.

He's aware he's not an easy person to get along with: he's prickly and hides in corners and glares at anyone who comes close, but you never seemed to care.

You came along one day, plopping down next to where he was standing (at a secluded corner during a party), turning to look at him and ask, "mind if I sit here?"

And because despite the fact that he doesn't like people in general, he also had his ridiculous pride which made him want to prove to Komori that he could make friends on his own.

So he let you, and the rest was history.

So when he wakes up to his phone vibrating like crazy at 2 am one night and sees that you called him—called him 17 times to be exact—he's never dialed your number so quickly in his life.

"Omi?"

And his heart breaks along with your voice.

"What happened?"

He hears you breath shakily, hears the faint rustling of the sheets as you sit up, and he hears as the tears start falling.

"They broke up with me."

"Oh," is all he can say, because despite the fact that you're falling apart on the other side of the line, he can't help but feel relieved, knowing you will never have to cry over that asshole ever again.

"Yeah," you say. "It's okay. I wasn't what they wanted anyway."

Sakusa wants to correct you, because he knows you're all anyone could ever want: loving, kind, loyal to a fault. Anyone except your ex, apparently. "They must be stupid then."

You giggle, sniffling a bit. "Maybe so."

Silence falls, but Sakusa decides silence is better than your cries. He sits there and wonders how to make you feel better when he's so far away.

"You know what the worst part is?" you ask after blowing your nose. "I can't even call them my ex. We weren't anything ever but it was everything to me. What am I supposed to do with that?

We were close, and for a moment they were almost mine but they gave me absolutely nothing to hold on to."

You're crying again, and Sakusa takes a deep breath. "I don't know," he admits. "I don't know."

-

You wake up to the sound of your phone falling to the floor.

You groan, rubbing your eyes (they sting like hell), and squinting at the clock. 10:47, it blinks back at you.

Your phone is dead, so you plug it in and make your way to the kitchen. The house is dead silent, a good thing because your head is still pounding from last night—how shitty of your ex to break up on you on fucking Christmas of all days.

How in character, you suppose ruefully.

Your memory from last night is hazy; you clutch at your head in pain while you serve yourself a glass of water. You remember arriving, their smile at you as they said, "you look amazing." There were quite a bit of people there last night, someone had offered you a cup of something, and then another, and then another. You remember an image of your ex's eyes hovering over yours, the warmth of their breath fanning over your lips as you lean in and nearly- nearly kiss them.

And you remember hearing them admit to someone that they never cared for you, that it was all a stupid dare and they were getting bored.

Your mind goes back to the four months you spent together, and all the nearly kisses you had.

You gulp down the water, grip tight around the glass. Omi was right, you sigh. How annoying.

Ah shit, Omi.

You dash back to your room where your phone lay abandoned and you huff impatiently as it takes forever to turn on.

You have 3 unread messages from - Omi 🤮

Omi 🤮: Hey are you feeling better?

Omi 🤮: y/n?

Omi 🤮: When you're done moping about that damn fool text me, okay?

You no longer feel bad about making him stay on call with you at that ungodly hour.

You're mean, you respond. Jerk, you add for good measure.

The response is almost immediate.

Omi 🤮: You're alive

Omi 🤮: I was starting to get worried

This boy-

Omi 🤮: How do you feel?

Your angry reply dies as you fall back on your bed with a huff.

you: Like shit

Omi 🤮: Have you eaten?

Your stomach grumbles and you grimace.

you: I'm on it rn i swear

He doesn't respond, so you let your phone plop next to you on the bed. Then it starts ringing.

"You're not 'on it' or anything, you liar."

"Oh my god, what are you a creep"

He chuckles. "Just go get food. You'll feel better."

"Okay, okay, you're so annoying," you put him on speaker once you reach the kitchen.

"You're the annoying one here."

"Whatever," you laugh as the cereal falls into the bowl. "You love me anyway."

"Hmph," is all he says, and you laugh again, imagining him scrunch up his face (like he's constipated, you snort), like he always does when he doesn't want to admit he cares.

"Are you still gonna come?"

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask. "I gotta be there to support my bestie, my bff, my partner in crime-"

"Stop," he groans and you laugh again. "I just figured you'd be too busy moping about that loser."

"I am not moping," your grin falls from your face and he snorts.

"You woke me up at 2 am last night because you were moping."

"I just got my heart broken; jeez Omi, can't you be nice to me for two seconds," you groan. "I was gonna apologize for waking you up but since you're being an ass about it now I won't."

"You love me anyway," he repeats your previous words back to you, and you wish you were there to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you roll your eyes. He hums, and you sigh.

He says nothing else, letting you eat your cereal, a more somber mood settling between you both.

"Thanks," you eventually say. "I mean it."

He hums again.

"Love you." And seeing the 6:34:27 long duration of the call, you know he does too.

gif'd him if anyone cares