# GOOD BOY ! !

# GOOD BOY ! !

➵ PAiRiNG. SUNA RiNTARŌ X F!READER

➵ WARNiNGS. stepcest, age gap (11 years), mommy issues, daddy issues, creampie, lactation (tiny bit), voyeurism, mommy kink, sub/dom (suna is sub for a little while), virginity lost?, oral (f. receiving), pregnancy n kid mention, cheating, step-son suna/step-mom reader, corruption kink sort of, suna is rlly .. innocent but also not, his dad is an ass.. emotional abuse maybe?

➵ A/N. UGH this took so long sorry!! pls heed the warnings !! not proofread or edited bc i can’t bother n i should be doing paperwork 😄 !! would’ve posted this on dilfsuna ,, but it’s pretty gross.. also the storyline makes no sense, like there’s no flow.... n for reference, suna’s dad is like . 20 years older than reader <//3 if i missed any tws don’t hesitate to tell me!! also yes the header is . very big <//3 also the POV and like,, tense shifts around quite a bit bc m stupid 😄 reblogs n feedback appreciated !’

Rintarō was young when his mother left. He doesn’t remember her at all, his father was barely present throughout his childhood. Always leaving him with his grandparents or with the maid and occasionally, a babysitter. Their relationship was strained to say the least, however there was one constant all throughout his childhood and teen years.

When he was only at the tender age of seven, Rintarō went to a wedding only to find out his father was marrying a woman far too young for him. Of course, at the time Rintarō didn’t see anything bad about it, didn’t know why people talked so badly about his father and his new step-mother who he would grow to adore greatly. But looking back on it, Rintaro thinks his father is a sick pervert for plucking an eighteen year old girl fresh out of school and dropping her straight into the role of step-mother.

You are the one thing Rintarō remembers. You were the only good thing then and it’s still like that now. He can never forget the day he met you, when you crouched down, so pretty and sweet as you promised to take care of him for the rest of your life. He’d fallen in love right then and there, always clinging to your leg and finding comfort in you much more than he ever did his father.

At sixteen, Rintarō could think of nothing but you. Once, when Miya Atsumu made some offhanded comment about how sexy you were, just as stupid teenage boys do, Rintarō had felt a fit of rage consume his being. It was as if he blanked out, because he didn’t remember punching Atsumu hard enough to break his nose.

Then you, gentle as ever, had come to pick him up from the Principal’s office. You’d cupped his cheeks like the caring mother you were and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek, telling him that it was okay. Mistakes can happen. ‘I know you’re a good boy’ you had said when in the car, one hand on the wheel and the other reaching over the gearshift to hold his hand in your small one. Just the simple act of a mother comforting her son but Rintarō had seen it very differently.

On his eighteenth birthday, Rintarō only wished for one thing. Now that he was legal - now that he was an adult, would this mean he could confess the truth to you? That he’d never seen you as his step-mother, but rather as someone he’d been deeply infatuated with, madly in love with for eleven long years. Eleven years.

(The gap between you and Rintarō is eleven years and he thinks it’s why he cherishes the odd number so much.)

And so, after a long night of celebration, Rintarō watched as you retired to bed. He got up and crept after you, always a quiet boy. He’d learnt how to be silent when all his father did was hush him and tell him to go play with the maid, dulling the poor child’s natural curiosity and playfulness.

He couldn’t tell you what he originally wanted too, but he did watch. Eyes wide open as he peeked through the crack in your bedroom door, taking out your hair, removing your makeup. Something he had seen you do often, but then it happened. Your hands dragging down the straps of the muted pink dress you wore tonight to look extra pretty, dolled up for Rintarō and no one else. He’d never seen a girl naked before, in porn sure, but not like this. Not up close - and it certainly wasn’t his step-mother in those videos. Now he’s here, eyes raking up your figure with a fervid intensity. He feels hot. His mouth dry, tongue heavy.

Mistakenly, he nudges the door and before you can turn around to see him lurking in the shadows - Rintarō scrambles away to his room.

You didn’t catch him. Thank fuck.

That night, each time he closed his eyes, all Rintarō could see was the silhouette of your figure. Your body is ingrained in his memory to this very day, just from that one snippet. He still knows you have a mole on the lower left side of your back, and a stretch mark on your right hip. (He constantly wonders if anything has changed, if the image in his head is just an outdated memory.)

“Rintarō,” his father addresses him gruffly one evenly, Suna Rintarō is twenty-one when you and his father announce your pregnancy. His heart cracks completely but he hides it behind a snarky comment hinting at the fact he’d assumed his father was impotent. (That earns him a smack to the back)

By the time he turns twenty-two, he’s blessed by the arrival of his little sister. Rintarō moves back in to help you with her. His father is absent as always, he disappeared quite promptly after his daughter's birth with the excuse of work. Rintarō doubts that. His father is a disgusting and pathetic excuse of a husband.

“You’re such a good boy, Rin,” you tell him just like you do all the time, “you always have been. I’m so lucky to have you.”

He offers a thin lipped smile in response, too taken by the sight of what is essentially a mini him cradled in your arms. Rinako has his eyes, though they’re softer in colour and her face is rounder, much more like you. She’s a blend of you and him. Rintarō craves for a life where he’s in his father’s position, he’s your husband and he’s Rinako’s father.

“Mom?” At your step-son’s voice, you look up from the stove and before you can protest—

He kisses you. Hard. And you don’t make the move to pull away.

“Mom,” Rintarō repeats in a whispery tone, desperation seeping into voice. “Please,” he sounds like the little boy you once knew, the vulnerable little angel who followed you around like a duckling and shyly slipped hand-dawn pictures of the two of you under your bedroom door. He’s asking to give himself to you, asking you to taint him. How could you take advantage of your very own step-son?

He has grown into an awfully handsome man, taller and broader than his father, they both share those stunning eyes. The same pointed nose too, but his lips are clearly from his mother. Pink and pouty, the bottom one is quivering, big hands tugging on the hem of your apron like he did when he was just a young boy.

In the back of your mind, that thought pops up once, you’re exploiting his love for you. But how can you resist him, how could you deny him this when he seems so fragile? You know for a fact he’s a hundred times better than his father, Rintaro is a good boy, he’s stuck by your side and helped you through thick and thin. So is it so wrong, that over these past couple of years, you’ve fallen for your step-son? He’s much more present and persistent in your life than your husband ever is, you felt so lonely in those short couple of months when Rintarō moved out. A profound emptiness in your heart that was only filled when he came back.

He doesn’t want to forget. He wants to do it again and he does, this time there’s a little resistance on your side; small hands pressing against his chest to get him off. Ultimately, you fail, bunching the fabric of his shirt and only pulling him closer. Closer and closer and closer, arms enveloping his form as your chest is pressed flush against his. “Rin—“ you yelp as he nips the skin of your neck, nosing along your neck before he pushes his nose into your cleavage.

You raise your hand to his head, carding your fingers through his hair and he purrs like a kitten, teeth catching the neck of your top and urging you to take it off. So you do. Because you could never say no to Rintarō, he’s such a good boy. The knot of your apron is untied and your shirt is slipped off and dropped on the kitchen floor. No bra, Rintaro mentally notes.

Almost instantly, his pout latches onto your nipple, suckling away like a tiny kitten. The taste of buttery almond fills his mouth and Rintarō almost jumps away in surprise. Milk. Of course, you’re still breastfeeding. Rather than being disgusted, he wants you more, he pulls away to look at you. A droplet of milk on his pink lips as he moves forward once more to kiss you, “mommy, please. I’ve been so good for you.” Rintarō begs, “I’ve been waiting so long for you, please, mommy. Saved myself just for you.”

That surprises you, while you had never seen Rintarō bring a girl home — you assumed such a handsome young man was neck deep in sex and parties and girls. But then again, Rintarō is a good boy, and he’s your good boy. So why would he ever give himself away to some silly little girl when he can have his step-mother.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take care of you, hm?” You hum, taking a shaky breath and undressing him slowly. Gently, you run a hand down his chest, nails scraping against his nipples and Rintarō jerks, incredibly responsive and sensitive to your touch.

“Please, mommy,” he whimpers and you feel as if it’s your duty to just help the poor boy out, one of your smaller hands resting on the clear bulge through his jeans.

“Rintarō… did you really wait just for me?” You ask, somehow flattered by a gesture others would consider sickening. He only nods, going slack jawed when you let his cock out of its confines and move your thumb along the tip. He’s big. Bigger than his father. Prettier too, with a fine patch of hair at the base and a vein which runs along the underside. Uncut on the fat and pink. Pink like the colour of his cheeks and his pretty pout. He rests his head against your shoulder, overwhelmed with just your little hand pumping his cock.

It feels so different, so much better when it’s the woman of your dreams fulfilling the fantasy you’ve spent so many years pondering about. This is better than all of that. The real thing is so much better. Rintarō feels like he could bust anytime soon, but he won’t. He wants to cum inside. Inside of his gorgeous step-mother, the love of his life.

“Ngh— please… can I touch you, mommy?” He breathes out, fingers ghosting over your thighs as he hesitates lifting your short skirt up. The nod you give him is enough, trembling as he hikes it up and hooks his fingers in the band of your panties to pull them off.

Almost naked, but he doesn’t want to make you forgo the skirt when it looks so nice. Just like you always have, for as long of Rintarō can remember, you’ve worn that same fit of skirt. Pleated, tight at the waist and flaring out. As if his father had never given you the chance to grow out of your school girl years.

Rintarō likes them. It’s all so you. His eyes don’t know where to focus when you situate yourself on the kitchen counter, giving him access to your glistening cunt entirely. He’s slow, excited but nervous you won’t like it, he might embarrass himself with the lack of skill.

“Go on, I know you can do it. You’re such a good boy.” The same words you always tell him are said with something different, lust and provocation.

Crouching down, Rintarō finds himself face to face with your pussy. One lick and he swears he’s addicted, you’re the forbidden fruit and he can’t help but take a bite bite. Sweet, your cunt is sweet like honey and peaches on his tongue. His worry is forgotten when preoccupied like this, eyes closed as he buries his face deep between your thighs. The moans and soft whimpers that escape your lips are quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, music to his ears.

Sucking on your clit, Rintarō looks up at you, eyes lidded and narrowed. His pupils are blown out, consumed by his carnal desire for you. “That’s right,” you croon, patting his head as praise, “you’re doing so good, honey.” Your chest is rising and falling rapidly, your toes are curling and Rintarō assumes you’re going to cum. Just from his tongue alone. The surge of power and confidence that rushes through him is incredible, he even has the guts to manhandle you. Roughly, he maneuvers your body until it’s in the perfect position. Back against the kitchen cupboards, his body slotted in the middle of your legs as he presses his hard cock against your core.

His eyes shine with need, but Rintarō is a good boy. He waits for your signal and then he tries to push in, finding it too slippery. Clumsy and inexperienced, he can’t get his dick in, thin brows drawn together in frustration. “Hey, it’s okay,,” you don’t laugh at him, don’t mock him, just grip his shaft and rub the tip up and down your slit, guiding it towards your tight hole. He inhales sharply, hand slamming against the cabinet and his eyes squeezed shut. “You can do it when you're ready, okay, Rin?”

He grunts in affirmation, calming his rapid breathing before ever so slowly sliding his cock into your hole. Tight and hot and wet. He can’t think straight, dumbstruck by your cunt. “Mom—“

“____,” you correct (he doesn’t repeat it), nails digging into his back when he starts to get the hang of this. Rintarō is a quick learner, a little sloppy with his thrusts but his cock is just so big and fat. Hitting just the right spots. He’s strong, each slam of his hips making your body jolt so hard he has to hold you still. Your nails scrape down his broad shoulders, surely leaving deep marks.

Rintarō has never felt like this, his fist could never do this justice. He’s being sucked in by your gummy walls, greedy pussy squeezing him so hard— so fucking small and tiny. He’s surprised his dick can even fit. “God, why do you need that sleazy old fucker?” He groans out, most definitely referring to his father.

The snark in his tone catches you off his guard. You don’t respond, you don’t want to think about your husband when his son is balls deep in your pussy.

“Why can’t you just be mine? I love you,” he confesses those words he’s been wanting to say for so long, forehead resting on yours. “I love you, mommy.” Rintarō’s mouth drops open, you’re milking him for all he’s worth, clenching and tightening around his dick.

He can’t cum yet. Rintarō fumbles but after a few seconds, he finds your little bud, rubbing circles and grinding his hips into you. The pressure building in your core reaches a breaking point and he has you gushing like a broken faucet all over his fat cock, the length of his cock coated in your creamy slick. Rintarō follows soon, having already been pushing himself to limits.

His load is too much for your little pussy to hold, dripping out and staining your skirt, smattering the counter and some even lands on the floor. Rintarō stills, panting as he takes your hands in his.

The two of you are silent, for different reasons. While Rintarō basks in the aftermath of his orgasm, your guilty conscience starts gnawing away at you. Not only have you cheated on your husband, but with his own son. The boy you vowed to protect and love for the rest of your life, your innocent step-son who’s vulnerability you’ve exploited. But how could you reject him? Anytime you look into his eyes you’re weakened by the sight of them. Seeing only that same cherubic boy you met so many years ago.

“You’re such a good boy, Rin,” you tell him, just like you always do when something goes wrong. Because it’s never Rintarō’s fault. He’s too much of a good boy. Too sweet for his own good.

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