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#ch.osamu
iwaasfairy · 7 months
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┌─ “ ! „ DECAY
tw. ddlg, noncon, daddy kink, dom & sub themes, forced threesome, patronization, manipulation, objectification, size kink wordcount. 4.4k
a/n. ♡ i wish i could have done more about this idea but i gave myself a bit of a word count limit for kinktober but don't be surprised if i end up writing more for this in the future jhydgusgfy i wanted to go more extreme but i was a bit bummed by the self imposed limitations kHdyugs iT IS What it is ily thank you for reading
miya atsumu x fem!reader x miya osamu
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You’re pouting somethin’ fierce, and thick crocodile tears bead your lash line like diamonds.
Osamu’s not entirely sure when it started. If it started at all. Maybe things just happened to play out this way, and it was entirely coincidental, a whisper in the grander scheme of your relationship with his brother - all too small to mention. Maybe safer to say, he’s not sure when he started noticing it— but once he began, there was nothing to keep him from seeing it too vividly in every interaction.
You’ve been with Tsumu since your last year together in high school. Stuck with him through thick and thin, every busy month, each and every match and scandal and fallout - and Osamu’s nothing but grateful for that. You make him happy, Hell, even a blind man could see how the blond blossoms open when you’re around. Becoming a more grown, dependable version of himself. Some days Osamu blinks and it’s like his mirror image has far surpassed his own grounded maturity, leaving him behind in the dust. And it’s definitely you that brings that out in him - and he’s grateful.
But — he remembers the early days. More than maybe anyone else, Osamu remembers that it wasn’t always this way. You were definitely more soft and gentle than they were as teens, but you were no shrinking violet either. A decade ago, Atsumu would’ve been caught dead underestimating ya like he does with a glitter in his eye now. Like it’s a game the two of you are clued in on. Osamu’s eyes glide over the scene painted before him, sipping his beer from the couch.
“Aw, pet, you’ve gotta watch where yer goin’. C’mere, did that hurt?” Atsumu is knelt before you, cupping your face between two rough palms, as he kisses up and down your face. Your wobbly sniffles get hidden in his chest when he pulls you in, and rubs your back like you’re a toddler with a scraped knee. Your hands fist into his shirt before you take a deep breath, going up in his warmth. And his twin beams like he’s the happiest man on the planet, before going to pick you up with a bit too much practiced ease.
Osamu’s not against the pda. You’ve always been touchy, and Tsumu’s a clingy bastard at the best of times. “‘M so sorry, baby. Daddy almost walked straight over ya.” It’s more that he has a problem with. He looks away when Atsumu’s hands slide down to grip your ass and squeeze you extra close, looking down for another kiss that you give like it’s been practiced a hundred times. He’s not sure if the slight pout you have on is truly the pain though, or more the embarrassment he can see creep up your ears and cheeks.
“I’m sorry for getting in the way,” you whisper back, and by the time Osamu looks up Atsumu has made it back to the couch with a fresh beer, with you now positioned on his lap and wrapped around him like a baby koala. You don’t look over at him though, barely acknowledging the strange situation. Almost makes him feel like he’s the one that’s out of place, even though he came over on Atsumu’s request. Even though he was invited.
Samu takes another chug of his drink, before raising his brows, leaning in with an attempt to catch your eyes. “Yer not gonna have any? ‘S yer fridge we’re looting.” You only disconnect yourself from Atsumu’s chest to look at him with heat on your cheeks, perfectly treated hair shining as it falls along your shoulders.
“No, thank you. Atsum- uhm- d-daddy doesn’t let me have any unless we’re going out. It makes me get all bloated, so ‘s better I don’t.” Your long lashes flutter, before you smile again, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Samu.” There’s a beat of silence where his twin seems to give him a look -one he can’t really make out- where Atsumu puts his own beer aside to pull you closer by your hips and wrap his arms around you like you’re best molten to his front. “Hey,” you whisper then, and Atsumu looks up, “can I move? My knees hurt a little like this.”
“‘S that right? Ya wanna turn so you can look at Samu too?” His brilliant smile is almost bright enough to make him ignore the possessive hands that travel too far down when helping you turn, or the almost-subtle groan he lets out when you wiggle back onto his lap. Osamu stares off into the kitchen instead. “You wanna sit ‘n look at someone else ‘cause I won’t do anything. Is daddy not good ‘nough? Maybe I spoil ya a lil’ too rotten.”
“‘M not rotten~, I do like sitting in your lap,” you squeak out almost sadly, starting to leave little pecks all over Atsumu’s lips as if to shut him up. That would probably be good, Osamu thinks. He doesn’t want to consider the possibility that you’re actually tempering him, but it sure does seem like it. “I’m just tired.” And though your voice drops to an almost whisper, he’s too aware of your pouted, glossy lips to not hear every word. Your hands trail through his hair, sliding down his neck with each slow breath. “Just- Daddy, don’t be upset. I’m trying my best.”
You look almost pained to say it, not that his twin cares. “Please don’t get mad.” Anything else passes over Osamu’s head. He just places the empty bottle by his feet and tries to ignore the way you’re now draped onto Atsumu’s lap like you two will start dry humping any second.
“‘M not mad, pretty girl.” The blond grabs two handfuls of ass and rocks your waist against him, making you squeak, before he runs his tongue along his teeth with a noise. “I’m just thinkin’ that I don't want Samu ta see ya like this.”
You whimper when Atsumu’s mouth glides along your jaw and throat, falling back into the couch -crown brushing Osamu’s thigh- when his twin pushes and presses a few kisses down your throat and chest. “Alright, let’s go out.” Then he pulls back flushed, and gets you up along with him. “Before daddy ends up fucking that pretty pussy with a live audience.” He ushers you towards the door with a few pats on your butt. “Go an’ get yer shoes, I’ll tie yer laces for ya, little girl.”
“I- I can really do it myself, ‘s fine.”
It only makes Atsumu puff out his chest, and stare you down with a hungry stare. “Go on, baby. Yer little enough to need my help.” You don’t say anything, but there’s a tense breath of silence that covers the room before you look away with shame written all over your expression.
Osamu’s too speechless to do much but just stare at the side of his brother’s face, who barely shows any emotion other than enjoyment at all. Seriously. It’s not like you to let someone just walk all over you. Or at least, it wasn’t like you, as far as he was concerned. Things have clearly changed. He frowns. “Do ya really have ta talk about ‘er like that when I’m around, stupid Tsumu? Keep it in yer pants, wouldya?”
Instead of the normally snappy reply that he’d expect, the blond just shrugs, tugging at his waistband like the tightness is a little uncomfortable. “Can’t help it. She’s so fuckin’ cute whinin’ and crying out for me.” Brown irises find Osamu’s, and he smiles. “You’d feel the same if ya saw what she can do.” He pats his thighs when you come back from the hall, and holds out his hands. “Come ‘ere, little princess. Daddy’ll dress ya right up.”
+
Your frilly little implication of a dress is bunched around your hips as he lets you down from another bear hug, and puts on a slight pout. “I’ll be back soon, baby. They need an emergency setter for just an hour of practice. Maybe two.”
“It’s never just one hour.”
The overly whiny request only makes Atsumu glitter more, as his eyes flick down your body and his tongue is caught between his teeth. Truly, the guy has absolutely no decency. This was supposed to be a fun weekend away from work for the three of ya. Not that Atsumu seems bothered by that. After a few seconds he kisses your forehead though, letting you lean into his arms and looking ever so teenie tiny compared to your boyfriend -they’ve both filled out in both size and muscle since high school after all- and it becomes even more apparent when Tsumu squeezes you under his chin. “If ya need anything ya’ll ask Samu, alright? Just pretend he’s me.”
You bat your lashes at him, but let your grip on him slowly be peeled off. “... Okay. Can I have dinner while you’re gone?”
“Hm, sure.” The blond runs his fingers through his hair. “Daddy’s gonna miss ya. I’m not gonna be gone fer long.” Then he eyes him with a grin that Osamu kind of wants to slap off of his cheeks. “Thanks for ‘sittin ‘er.” He doesn’t reply with a smart remark about him treating you like a dog, and just gives a vague hum instead. With that he gives the brunet a quick wave, and gathers his phone and keys on his way to the door. You linger around the entrance a bit longer, before slowly returning to the dinner table with slightly heated cheeks. You tuck your knees to your chest when you sit and reach for one of the side dishes — and he can’t help but say it when the door falls into lock.
“So, what’s all that about?”
“Hm?” Your head drops to the side slightly as you put some pickled radish in your mouth and hum. “Mm, this ‘s really good, Samu! Can I have some?”
“Help yerself,” he nods, and also slides the plates you can’t reach closer. It’s not like he doesn’t understand it at all. You’ve got that sort of puppy-eyes look down, big and round and soft wherever you look, no matter who you’re talking to. It’s the kind of gentleness that calls for protection, and he’s not even the possessive type, but despite that the feeling of being needed sits on his chest and longs to come out. But still. He can’t help but think Atsumu’s overplaying his cards. “Seriously though. You know ya can tell my shitty brother no, right? I’ll straighten ‘em out for ya.”
The words seem to process for a moment, before you load some more food onto your utensils and swallow it with a little noise of thoughtfulness. “I- I don’t know. Atsumu says he likes being the provider. At first it was just little stuff he helped with, and I thought it was nice to be cared for.” You fumble a little with the chopsticks when a piece of fish is extra slippery, and smile when he helps you out and picks it up, carrying it towards your mouth. “You don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve fed myself instead of Tsumu doing it for me,” you softly mention. That’s weird, ain’t it? That’s definitely weird.
Still he’s carrying the food to your mouth, and be it instinct, or habit, you look too fuckin’ sweet waiting like a puppy for him to help out, big, doe-eyes and all.
You let the piece onto your tongue, before wrapping those pretty lips around and gratefully humming and — fuck. You don’t notice the way his brow ticks, but his stomach rolls with the realization. Instead of lingering too long on the implication that he might feel the same exact way as his twin, he lets you talk, after chewing for a while. “I just- I don’t like that he doesn’t ever take me seriously anymore. He thinks I can’t do anything by myself, even brushing my own teeth, or picking out clothes! It’s so- so frustrating-” you continue until you run out of air, and seem to suddenly realize who you’re talking to. “Oh, don’t tell Atsumu that. Please don’t tell him. He gets so upset and I don’t like it when he’s mad.”
Samu can’t help but just nod in agreement, not sure what else to say. He doesn’t think his brother would ever hurt ya. Then again, Samu also didn’t think his brother was much of a kink lifestyle sort of guy until the last few months— so clearly he doesn’t know everything anymore. And you seem… okay with it, right? He’s not sure, really. Would he even have the guts to tell Tsumu off if he was sure you weren’t? Instead of lingering on that uncomfortable possibility, he pivots. “Let’s watch somethin’? What do ya wanna see?”
Your eyes shimmer when they flick up, and you swallow before smiling. “Can I choose?” You wiggle in your seat. “Atsumu -w-well- daddy doesn’t let me watch scary stuff, but I’ve been dying to watch the Ring again.” You then lean into his space a little more, and he feels his heart skip a beat. “I assume I don’t have to snuggle up to you though? He did say to pretend you’re him but…” You wrap your thin sweater a little closer. “I’ll hold your hand? He can’t get mad that way.”
How can he say no when you’re staring at him with those fucken stars in your eyes? His fingers find yours on the table, and your hand feels way smaller and softer than his own work-worn ones. “Yeah, sure. But ya shouldn’t watch nothin’ ta give ya nightmares though…” The urge to pick you up and wrap you nice and safe in his embrace becomes stronger by the second, and his eyebrows furrow.
+
Atsumu is quick to descend on you in the safety of the separate room. His hands glide down your sides and hike up your shirt over your arms, before running his fingertips down the valley of your breasts. “Samu was nice to ya?”
“Mhm,” you bop your head a few times, shivering when the cooler air peaks your nipples and Tsumu brushes his thumb over them. “He was- r-really- ah daddy, that tickles.” Your voice trembles when he eyes you down, before letting his fingers trail down to your shorts instead. He motions your butt up and you lift yourself politely, letting him slide those down your legs too as he lifts one and starts placing kisses down your ankle up your leg. “You said we’d get ready for bed~”
“We are gettin’ ready,” his smile goes a little crooked when you bite your lip, “just curious ‘s all. Ya think Samu likes ya?” He lets you fall back onto the plush covers before walking into the ensuite and coming back with some skincare that he places unceremoniously onto the bedside table- and you frown. If your boyfriend asked you a few years ago, you’d assume he was just genuinely curious. About you getting along with his family, his twin, his other half. But now, there’s an agenda woven into the words. Always is.
“We get along well. Why?”
His lips jerk up, and with a simple shrug he continues. “He’s good too ya, ain’t he? An’ I’ve been thinking I want Samu to watch us some time.” You’re too shocked to say anything, but your mouth drops open. No.
No, it’s already embarrassing how he makes you whine and whimper like a pet for him when you’re alone. It’s embarrassing when he makes you call him daddy when there’s people around with no shame- like he gets off on it. But this- his hands find your face with a soaked cotton pad to start cleaning you with gentle motions, and you find your eyes starting to water. You hate that you’ve become this fragile little flower that can’t speak up when it matters. You’d like to think you’re still the same. But your lip wobbles too easily as Atsumu continues, and your voice cracks.
The mortification is too much to bear, it swallows you up whole. He couldn’t possibly make you. “I don’t want that.”
“What’s that?” he coos, eyelids hooded. He leans down to you more.
You push his hand away from your face and frown, but tears still spill over. You fucking hate being such a crybaby. “I don’t want Samu to watch us.” You still frown though, doing your best to blink away the waterworks. And instead of taking you seriously - of course - Tsumu tilts his head in that sort of understanding that you’re throwing a tantrum like a toddler might. But you’re serious. You mean it. His freshly washed hair falls over his brows, but his hands still find your shoulders to keep you in place below him.
“Aw, baby. Poor girl.” The soft rubbing of his thumb along your skin only makes you more shaky in that feeling, his eyes roaming your body before he pushes you back onto the bed and crawls onto it beside you, pulling you into his touch. It doesn’t escape you that you’re already naked and he’s still dressed, keeping you tight. “I didn’t mean to upset ya. Shhh, shhh, it’s okay.” You swallow, and push against his chest with a slight whimper - why can’t he take you seriously?
“I mean it, Atsumu.”
Before you can say anything else he pinches your cheek hard, and his dark brows lace together. “Don’t be rude.” The darkness fades quickly, but he still doesn’t show any intention of letting you go. In fact, because of his strength against you you’re only forced deeper into his embrace, head pressed to his warm chest. “Daddy’ll take care of you. Always do, don’t I?” You open your mouth to retort, but he interrupts again, and squishes your cheeks together before placing a few patient kisses onto your pouty lips. “Listen to daddy. It’ll be fine.”
It’s so frustrating.
You want to move. You want to remove yourself from the situation he’s putting you in, or put on some fucking clothes, and instead you’re being mocked by him. Once more you try to give him a push for some space, but because he barely feels it or pretends not to, you don’t make a dent. “Tsumu, I don’t want to have sex with your brother watching~” you end up crying out, feeling the tears well up again. “Get off of me.” You start wiggling, as his hand wraps around your wrist and forces it to wrap around his body, clamping your hands together behind his back as he rolls over and starts kissing the top of your head.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry. Everything’s gonna be okay.” You want him to leave you alone. “My sweet little girl. You don’t gotta fight me, ‘m not doin’ nothing. I’m here for ya.” His heartbeat is so steady against you that it makes you want to shove him and scream in his face to fuck off, but of course you don’t. You don’t scream. You don’t push, or fight, or make yourself clear. All you can do is cry into his shirt as his smell wraps around you and you struggle to make the waterworks stop.
“Let go~” you sniffle into his shirt, and shiver when his hands start sliding down to pull you back onto him, forcing his thick, strong thigh between your legs. Your straining muscles give up after a while of pushing back, and his embrace still stays.
“Shush, little baby. I got ya, don’t worry yer pretty little head.”
“Daddy~” you whine softer this time, and don’t fight him when he nudges you face up to kiss him. He groans for a moment in what can only be satisfaction at winning the fight, before rolling over so you’re trapped under his heavy body, chest rising and falling against him. And as you try to stop crying, Atsumu has the nerve to rub your head like all of this isn’t his fault.
+
You can’t escape the heavy gaze anywhere you look. It’s suffocating. Not that you have much room to think about it between the way Tsumu’s taking up your space and forcing one of your legs over his shoulder so he can spread you open. It’s a brief reprieve from the prying eyes blocked by his broad back, but you know it will end. Because Tsumu didn’t just drag his twin here to know that someone’s watching. He wants to make a show of you. To show off the type of power he- oh. Your half-lidded eyes flutter open wider when his fingers spread open your slick and your pussy clenches around nothing.
And Atsumu grins. “Yer so quiet, baby. Are’ya shy?” You don’t answer that, instead trying to chase after his hand when he moves away, wrapping comparatively small hands around his wrist. You can feel the heat of Samu at the foot of the bed, uncomfortably perched onto it with his knee before he dips the mattress further, and your blinks get more rapid.
“Daddy… I- I don’t-”
“Hush,” he moves your other leg aside more, leaving you spread embarrassingly open before he dips his body and glides both hands under your ass, lifting you a few inches. His mouth descends without thinking, kisses and then tongue making you whimper as he eats you out. Not gently, but possessive, demanding licks that drag your split attention right back to him - only until Samu leans forward a little to get a better view. This is so fucking embarrassing. “Mh- Taste good, pretty thing.” Atsumu’s eyes have that same cocky, knowing look he always does when he gets you like this. You won’t do anything back, and he knows that. “Yer droolin’ all over my chin.”
You are. The slick’s coating his lips when he pulls back, trailing kisses up your thighs, before he slides two fingers inside your squelching pussy traitorously slow, and watches your face scrunch. He’s big. He always is, and knows it too, big hands, big thighs, chest, shoulders. Most of all, he’s fucked you enough times now to know that you can’t take him easily without prep, and even that is embarrassing. You could have gone a whole lifetime without having Osamu know that. Why did he even agree to this?
“Little brat,” Tsumu says after a few seconds, flicking your nipple painfully as he stares, clenching his jaw. “Don’t be rude. Samu came all the way out here to see ya, ‘n yer gonna lock up the whole time?” You swallow, and try to talk, but he instead curls his fingers inside your pussy and slides them deeper. Right where you can’t handle them, until you have no choice but to curl and wiggle away from him, mouth pulling open to moan.
“Ah, agh, daddy! Daddy, daddy.” Samu’s broad shouldered figure being barely dressed in a tank and boxers, along with Atsumu’s almost godly physique hanging over you is too much. You shut your eyes. “I can’t- f-focus.” You hold onto his arm as he fucks his fingers in and out of you for long enough that your entire body starts tingling, before he peels you off and turns you over. Rough hands hike you onto your knees, and your ass up in the air before his rough palm lands hard and sends a stinging heat through your legs. “Ow, ow~”
“That’s more like it. I know yer a noisy little bitch.” He rubs your lips up and down with his thumb a few more times, before you hear the sound of boxers being peeled off. “Now, what do ya say when daddy will give ya something ya want?”
He presses the hot head of his cock against you but doesn’t push in yet, and your poor pussy clenches around nothing as tears fill your eyes and you grip two fistfuls of pillow. You can’t say it. Not with Samu sitting right there, judging you both for- another sharp spank makes you shiver, and you whimper into the pillow. The sting aches until heat blooms under the damaged skin, and you unclench your teeth. “Please, daddy? Please fuck me.” You doubt you’re stretched enough to take him comfortably, even with the fingering and all the wetness coating your puffy pussy and the inside of your thighs. “Pretty please?”
There’s a few moments before his hand presses down on your back and his cock slides inside, and you do your best not to gasp too much feeling him force you open. It aches though, and you have to widen your knees to make room and— God it feels so good. You’re not sure whether to cry because of the feeling, or because you can’t stop yourself from moaning high pitched and whiny like a whore putting on her best performance. You really can’t help it. “Agh, ah- d-daddy, move, please.” The heavy weight of his cock bottoms out and he presses his heavy balls against you for a few seconds, before pulling out with a groan.
The motion pulls your entire body back, only stopped by his hand, like you’re some cocksleeve— and you cry harder. “Ah, ah, ugh— Atsumu,” you pout, and he pets your head.
“I’m right here, doll. Does that feel good?” You nod, and cling on, before opening your eyes to look at him with his thighs right next to your head and stroking his cock with an almost torturous pace. You whimper when being bottomed out into, and then your eyes shoot open. You can’t turn, but the low groan Samu lets out when you clench hard around him, says enough— and Tsumu laughs as he watches you panic and your bottom lip wobble, petting your head. Like this is all some big game, keeping you down under his hand while you shake your head.
“No, no- you said- you said he’d watch- agh, daddy! No, no no no, you promised! You promised.” You can’t stop yourself from moaning when he hits deep inside, fucking you much too well. Your mouth falls open as you try to stop the sound, but Tsumu’s touch only gets more demanding as his twin picks up the pace.
“Shhh, shhh, Samu likes ya so~ much. It’s just this one time. And then daddy’ll take good care of ya, promise.”
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tobiokuns · 3 years
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— getting back together with haikyuu boys
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summary: leaving him isn’t always as easy as you think it is. featuring: miya osamu, hanamaki takahiro [previously: kageyama tobio] tags: hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, slight suggestive content
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miya osamu + pushing away
osamu is not a very good boyfriend. he’s understandably busy, he’s not very attentive, and he doesn’t need you as much as you need him. he comes home late, quietly, and slips into bed beside you as if you were there for decoration.
you knew all this when you started dating. it’s what you love most about him: how mature he is, how independent, as if he could take the world on without anyone else. and yet, sometimes, you wish he needed you even a little.
without even realizing it, you start to resent him for it. you want to prove that you, too, could live without him. 
what’s with the attitude? he asks a week after you’d made your resolution. you shrug, going back to your phone. there was nothing to say, after all. it’s how he’s always been. quit bein’ weird, he huffs, turning away towards the kitchen, yer bein’ annoying, y/n.
you remembering the trembling of your lip, the tightness in your chest. there’s only so much you can take. staring at his back, the strong, broad shoulders that stand tall without you, you think: maybe he really doesn’t need you. 
so you take your phone, your coat, and you leave. you curl up on your friend’s couch, and wonder why you ever bothered in the first place. he wouldn’t even notice. 
but at six the next morning, before osamu usually goes to open his store, there’s banging on the door, and he’s standing there, looking flustered. he’s holding his phone in his hand, as if he had been calling you. you blink.
“where have ya been?” he breathes, “ya didn’t come home last night.” 
you open your mouth, taking in his disheveled appearance, and close it again. “i thought...” you murmur quietly, “...i thought you wouldn’t notice.”
“an’ why wouldn’t i notice if ya didn’t come home?” he demands, looking past you to the couch full of your blankets, “why’d ya sleep here?” 
“i just...” you try to find the words, “you seemed annoyed with me yesterday.” and all the days before that, too, you think to yourself.
“i was,” he retorts without missing a beat, “but doesn’t mean i don’t want ya with me every night.”
as you stare at the lines on his face—his unkempt hair, his furrowed brows—you realize then that maybe you’re the one who had misunderstood your relationship. miya osamu had never been a good boyfriend, but you loved him anyway, and that wouldn’t change.
“let’s go home,” he urges, holding his hand out, “...i missed ya, y’know.”
hanamaki takahiro + moving away
it’s not like you guys had ever been together officially. hanamaki didn’t often do things seriously, including relationships. you knew this, never expecting more even as months of regular late night calls went on for close to a year.
you had never wanted to define the relationship either, maybe because you were scared of the answer, maybe because you had convinced yourself that sleeping with him was enough. maybe you thought you wouldn’t be good in a relationship anyway, since this arrangement with hanamaki was working so well. but this caused other problems, ones that you couldn’t run away from.
i got transferred, you said to him on your last night together, i’m moving away next week.
oh, that sucks, he had said, his face impassive, do you need help packing?
he had no commitments to you after all, you reason. in fact, he had no commitments at all—no job to tie him down here and already living away from his family. there had been a part of you that wanted him to ask, can i come?
but he hadn’t, and you’re staring at your new empty apartment, with boxes that he’d helped you pack. you’d left him with the most honest words you could muster, repressing the desires that had been swirling inside you for almost a year. i’ll miss you, you told him, and pressed a kiss to his temple.
you hadn’t asked him to come, even though it was all you thought about. you hadn’t asked him to come, so why was he standing on your doorstep, his belongings crammed into a single suitcase?
“takahiro?” you ask, your voice wavering, wondering if he was really here.
he fidgets, looking away. “...hey,” he says finally.
“i know, uh, that you didn’t ask me to come,” he starts nervously, “but i thought— i was hoping... that you’d have me anyway.”
but you didn’t want to make the same mistake you’d made your whole relationship. you didn’t want to lie next to him at night, your pinkies barely touching, asking yourself what you were to him.
“but...” you whisper, backing away slightly, “...what does this mean for us?”
he’d thought hard about why you hadn’t asked him to come. hadn’t you guys spent the past year with each other? hadn’t that meant anything to you? but, he thinks, looking at you now, asking him about us: he hadn’t made it clear, not with barely a toothbrush to tie you down to him.
hanamaki steps forward, taking a chance. he smiles crookedly, taking your hands into his. your breath hitches when he intertwines your fingers, twisting them around his own even when you try to pull away.
“it means that i’d follow you anywhere,” he suggests gently, tugging you towards him, “it means that i want to build a life with you.”
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iwaasfairy · 16 days
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quick drabble of some stray jealous twins thought
tw incest, jealousy and a bratty little sister
“You’ve got a sparkle in your eye when you look at me,” he’s laughing, smile glittering as he stares down his nose at you with the closeness - and heat dusts over your nose and cheeks.
“I do not.” Your back is still resting against the pole, but it’s less out of casualness than it was when you first propped yourself up against it. Now it serves to keep you upright, as the handsome older boy leans in.
“You really, really do though,” his hair gets ruffled by the warm breeze, and makes him look even more effortlessly attractive, “‘s almost like you’re a little happy to be hanging out with me after all.”
You click your tongue, brush your hair over your shoulder and start walking again, and he follows behind with his motorbike beside him. “You’re seein’ things, Kei-kun~ I’m sure I don’t know what yer talkin’ about.”
“I’m entirely sure you do know.” He’s fun, and easy to talk to, and while you might not know him well enough to say you like him, you could surely get the butterflies in your stomach if this went on any longer. Almost as if knowing that’s what you’re thinking, his hand reaches out to brush against yours, fingers just about linking. “Say—”
Whatever would follow is cut off when a gruff voice calls your name with a very obvious scowl, and your eyes shoot up the rest of the road to make your eyebrows travel high on your forehead. Osamu’s got his marked hat pulled low over his eyes, but arms crossed. “We’re having dinner. Home, now.” There’s no please and thank you with the glare he gives the both of you, and Keitaro straightens up to wave.
“Yo, Miya.”
It makes your big brother’s jaw clench, before he lets out a slow “yo” back — completely forced. And when his eyes find yours, your shoulders go up a few inches in slight shame at being caught so openly. You’re still a few blocks from his apartment, so that must mean he came out looking for you. That must mean he’s already in a sour mood. “Get going,” he basically barks out at you then, and glares when you slink away a few steps.
“I’ll see you.” You quickly whisper. But despite the miserable attempt at playing it off, Keitaro’s quicker than you’d like; and his long frame bends to place a peck on your cheek. Mostly just being cheeky, you know. Your big brothers’ protectiveness is hardly a secret, and he seems like the type to poke — but that harmless fun has your cheeks going even hotter when he smiles down at you, adding in a whisper.
“The meanie, older Miya twins don’t scare me,” his eyes shine when meeting yours, before he gets onto his bike and revs his engine. “I’ll call you later.” As he drives off, your toes curl in your shoes, and you stare resolutely at the floor. Face no doubt glowing.
Your lips shake, as you cast a quick glance through thick lashes. Samu’s got you by your shoulder before you can even say anything, cool exterior cracking just barely as he starts walking and a vein in his temple thumps. “Wait, niichan~ It wasn’t me, I was just playin’ around! It- I wasn’t even that into him like that-”
“Walk properly,” he breathes out, and his eyes narrow when you just oblige. You shouldn’t have been messing around, but they keep your collar so tight. It’s hard not to get fed up after a while. When you’re mostly out of sight of the main street and the sun sinks behind the houses, he finally pushes you the last stretch home and lets go of the almost painful grip of your arm. “That the type ta get ya goin’?” His biceps almost tear out of his shirt when he cages you against the door and crosses his arms again. “That what’ya like?”
“I was just entertaining myself on the walk home, s’all. S’no crime, niichan.” You’re pouting, can’t help it.
He leans you up against the house then, leg slotting between your thighs and shoulders pinning you in place. He forces his mouth to yours until you have no choice but to bend into him, where your hands rest on his chest. “Mh-nii- dan-” The kiss doesn’t stop, only deepens until his tongue is in your mouth and you’re tasting him. Though you do your best to pull away, his tongue rubs into yours as long as he likes and until his satisfied grunt sounds as he pulls back.
The door to the apartment opens up, and familiar caramel eyes find the both of you. The cooler grey ones appraise you from under the hat when wiping your spit from his lips, and picks you back up by the scruff of your neck. “Shitty ‘mouto kissed ‘im. I got mad.”
If you couldn’t see the slight twitch in the blond’s face, you could almost kid yourself into thinking he’d stay impartial. But his voice is too low, and his eyes too sharp. “Ya kissed that dirty neighborhood tramp?” Atsumu’s lip lifts with disgust, before turning to his twin. “An’ ya said you’d let me play with ‘er first. I just got back to Hyogo, Samu.”
You’re quick to ball your fists and glare at the darker haired one. “Didn’t kiss anyone except you, stupid niisan. Let go of me, you’re so annoying.”
“Ain’t happening—what do we do with the dude?”
Atsumu reaches out his hand as he pushes himself against the doorframe. “Hand ‘er over.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance, and pulls you straight into his chest when you try to fight against it. Strong, work-worn hands pull your face up to his as he stares you down, and then sighs. “We could always kill ‘im.”
“Killing ‘im sounds good right about now, Tsumu.”
“Doesn’t it, Samu?”
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iwaasfairy · 11 months
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tw incest, coercion, jealousy
thinking about osamu and how much he likes leaving you a shaking little mess on his cock, definitely osamu nii who rubs it in atsumu's face that you sleep in his bed and hold his hand and will sit down on his lap at the end of a long day
big strong osamu who makes you push your thighs around his cock as he fucks into them from below, and osamu who slides his long fingers into your little pussy when he's showering with you and almost making your knees give out, and osamu who taught you how to kiss and how fun it is to slide your big brother's thick cock down your throat until you're lightheaded and crying
osamu who's wanted to be a husband and a big strong man ever since he understood what it was and makes you giggle by pecking your cheeks and pulling you behind his body when other men look at you and that same osamu who wants nothing more than to see your lips glossy and falling open with desperate whines when he fucks the raw head of his cock into you for hours until you can't even stay awake
atsumu can keep his girlfriends and flings. because he's so obviously jealous when you 'niichan, niichan' him into submission, but you can't help but return to osamu's strong arms and little coos of his love, or when you call yourself samu nii's wife just like he spent years training you to accept <333
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iwaasfairy · 2 years
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┌─ “ „ POISONOUS ─┐
tw. almost noncon, incest, manipulation/coercion, lowkey cucking, manhandling, voyeurism, breeding, oral wordcount. 5.8k
a/n.  day 1 of kinktober fics! writing suna was very fun but also kinda hard so i apologize if he's written pretty rough ♡♡♡ but i did it for the suna fans in the audience, so you better appreciate how long this fic is at least! anyway i love him and his stupid as fuck perfect face
suna rintaro x fem!reader x miya osamu
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There’s a certain charm to the way it trickles from the roof down, down the pipe into the ever increasing puddle of muddy, dirty rainwater. It gives him the same feeling he gets when that rain drums hard on the translucent umbrella above his head, with the rhythmic pattern of a frantic heartbeat. Makes his evenings walking back along the same street, same houses, same -now that winter is on its way- dreadful scenery a bit more bearable. His thighs and core still tingle from practice, radiating heat like a stove— and if he stares long enough he could convince himself that droplets aiming for his skin evaporate upon landing.
His typical, daily walk ends at the end of the road; the house on the very edge, two facades free to the street as a stray car slowly drives by and makes the wet sidewalk sud with more water. Lucky he’s not wearing nice sneakers, he presumes. It’s not his house. Can’t be, you wouldn’t allow it. And ignore it as he might, his repentance is indefinitely tied to this place.
As he stuffs the spare pair of keys into the keyhole, the flowy curtains pull back, and he lowers the umbrella to pull it to a squeaked close. He can sense the eyes on him, even if he can’t see them, and lets a grin curl onto his lips. Click of the lock, not once but twice, and a little shove — and the curtain drops closed as the pat of feet running down the hall meets his ears. The door is swung open before him with a sort of mix between fear and excitement that scares him for a moment, arm reaching to block the exit before he can think it through; or see if you’ll stop in time.
An arm and a leg, knee also knocking into the doorframe to block the path towards the street, like you’re an overzealous pet. But he doesn’t have time to think it through, before your face is aimed at his and you’re staring up at him like you’re appreciative and disgusted all at once. Your silence is tense, with the calculating way you position yourself in the doorway. But he smiles nevertheless, and clears his throat. “Hey, little sister. I’m home.”
Your long, stupid long fucking lashes flutter as you take a deep breath and reach to grab at his collar to gently, but impatiently, pull him down a few inches. “Rin nii,” you breathe, and smile as your eyes get a tad glossier. Though he can clearly tell you are a little bit uncomfortable embracing him again -his own fault, he knows- it’s a sweet attempt at normality. “I missed you.”
“Yeah?” His voice comes out a bit raspy, and he dips down to place a gentle kiss to the top of your crown. You basically melt against him at the touch, the human equivalent of a purr, and he runs long fingers along the side of your face with a soft breath. “Good.” Then he pulls back to glance at your face, the heat burning over your nose, and how you seem to be a little short of breath. That— and suddenly all at once he notices the distinct lack of much clothing, covering the doorway even more. 
The look burns at the edges of his thin blanket of shame, and makes his stomach turn. “You should go back in, baby sister. You’re giving the neighborhood a show.” Your expression barely changes, but there’s a split second where your eyes flick to his waist, then right back up. It’s not even an unfair reaction, but it still makes him let out a cold laugh, looking away. Well, you’re not wrong, he guesses. The moment’s enough to have him forgetting about the familiar rush of displeasure, the nauseating feeling of jealousy seeping from his skin. In this split second, there’s only him between you, and that door; and he’d never forgive himself if you got away again. Got hurt. He just… just can’t have you running out.
Not again. “C’mon, use those pretty little legs to carry yourself all the way back to the couch, and then we can talk.” Your big eyes flick only over his shoulder for a second, like you’re considering the possibility of running, before you turn and thump back the way you came. And another familiar voice sounds out through the hall.
“Yer late, she ‘bout threw a whole fit before I could get ma hands on ‘er. Baby, c’mere, sit back down.” He’s interrupted by your soft voice, though you’re too quiet for him to make out what you say. And after a hum, Osamu continues. “Ran out into the yard— she was near hypothermic before I got her into the bath.” There’s a few moments of silence, before a low moan comes. “Fuck, that’s it— Take it ju~st like that.” Rintaro bristles, skin crawling with a low sort of irritation that makes the hairs on his arms stand upright. He closes the door behind him and takes a long, deliberate breath- then walks around the corner. The sight that greets him makes him a little sick to his stomach, though mostly from the icky envy sticking to the roof of his mouth as he drops his bag of practice gear aside and averts his eyes.
From the way you, his girl, his property, is sat between Osamu’s legs; pretty lips kissing up the length of his cock with a whine and a shiver. The brunet grimaces. “Samu, I thought I asked you not to pull this shit with her when I’m around.”
“Ya weren’t, until two seconds ago,” Osamu simply responds, grabbing your cheek to coach you back to his cock and bucking into your wet mouth as the sound -along with your pretty moans- fills the silence in the room. Rintaro’s eyes glide back to his friend, trying to bite through the hostility. You pull back with another noise, but Osamu’s grip on your cheek doesn’t allow for much room, and so you huff and lick at the head for a few more moments. “B’sides, she’s my fiancée,” the wet noise of your tongue darting around his length as he forces it back into your mouth, “don’t tell me- w-what to do- ah- with my own wife… And s’nothin’ you haven’t seen before, Rin.”
It stays quiet for a long time, where time itself seems to hold its breath for you three. As the truth collects in a puddle between you all and wets your feet with icy pinpricks. The other man is the first to break the silence, as he brushes his thumbs along your cheeks in the exposed position. “She’s your sister, Rin. You guys have ta sort this thing out, don’t ya think? Right, baby?”
“... I let him in, didn’t I?” You pull back again, swallow and take a deep breath against the tears on your waterline, before wrapping your soft palm around Osamu’s cock to turn over your shoulder. Eyes questioning, carefully flitting over his expression to test the waters. “We’re okay, Rin nii. You’re… fine.” It's vile. The way his brain clings to that admittance of mercy, and melting it together with the image of your flushed, glossy lips and marked up neck and tits. You mewl under your breath, going more putty when your soon-to-be husband pulls your head towards the ceiling by your hair.
Osamu groans low when you continue the handjob dutifully, but lets his eyes flutter closed on the couch, and you don’t take your eyes away from him where he still remains to the side. “Rintaro,” you speak it again, even softer— like the feeling of his name on your tongue is almost too much to bear. He feels the same. He shrugs off his jacket, gives you another last look, before walking past you two towards the bedrooms. “Nii nii,” you almost beg.
But he can’t. “Well, let me know when you finish up here,” his voice is slow and deliberate as you fully attempt to follow him, but the hand in your hair stops you. And though Osamu lets out a slight grumble under his breath, he pretends well not to care, coaching you patiently back to the hot cock in front of your face. You don’t struggle, not anymore, and Rintaro wills himself not to feel the ache in the center of his chest as he leaves you behind in the living room to mind his own. He would be mad. Could be, if not for the fact that he started all of this in the first place. Made a show out of you. 
It doesn’t really surprise him that you don’t fight the order any harder either. You never fight anyone on their mishaps hard enough to cause a ripple. He loves you for it, he does. Even if everything else falls apart around you two, you love your big brother. He knows it, Osamu knows it, and even if you’re too proud to admit it— you did let him in. You have yet to deny him anything. He crashes onto the bed of the spare room, staring up at the ceiling as the sounds of you and the squeaking of the couch grow louder and louder.
+
“Rin nii, where are we going?” your voice echoes through the night, where you trip, stumble, and barely catch yourself on his arm as he laughs. Your little pout is set a little sharper when he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you along with him, ignoring street lights in favor of crossing the street under the protection of night. “Rintaro~” you whine long and needy, frown growing with each second he chuckles more— but he can’t help it. It’s exhilarating to have you clinging to his side like an overgrown child, fixed with an uncertainty only he can clear up.
“Stop being such a brat, just keep up,” he whispers into your crown, burying his face into your hair for just long enough to have the heat linger. “I need your help for something.” You falter a little in your step, and stare up at him as you walk, but he doesn’t look down. Can’t, or he might just spill his guts right here and now, both literally and figuratively. Truth is, you’re not stupid. A little too trusting, and endlessly forgiving of his sins, yes; but not stupid. He would dare to bet that you could figure it out if you really wanted to. And as long as you don’t bother to confront him, he isn’t going to speak life into it. “Stop staring.”
“Rin nii,” you try, only to snap your mouth shut when his sharp, bright eyes find yours.
Truth is— it’s easier to pretend that it’s brotherly affection, isn’t it? That you don’t feel the way his heart races as his arm slips around your lower back and he pulls you in close enough to share each other’s body heat. You walk through the empty-enough street with soft footsteps, pace fast, until he suddenly squeezes your hip. And though you bristle a little, you can only look at the side of his face. He refuses to make eye contact. “In here, c’mon.” You follow him in between the gates of the old park, towards the faint flickering of yellow light and murmuring— steps only getting a little more hesitant.
“Mom will know we left,” you suddenly whisper, hiding your face into his side more, and clinging to his long shirt with a sudden fear.
“We’re sibling bonding, little sister. Mom will understand. And I won’t tell if you don’t,” the brunet shoots back with a convincing grin, making you nod and wrap your arm around his waist in return. But really, his hands are a little shaky, and his throat dry. You arrive at the fire pit like that, tangled in each other’s embrace and hiding yourself into his ribs— his friends falling a little quiet before Rintaro dares peel himself away from you. Atsumu’s eyes look giddy in this light, and Osamu’s calculating but attentive. Aran only pauses his story for a few seconds, before smiling at you.
“You want to take a seat?”
Your first instinct -a fact that makes him heat up inside- is to look at your Rin nii for confirmation. And so he shakes his head. “She’s fine.”
“Told ya he’d actually get ‘er, Tsumu.” Osamu’s lips are wrapped around a beer bottle, one of many strewn around the fire. The heat of it makes you glow a little more, skin feeling electric on his. He feels a little fuzzy under all their gazes, under the expectations of the night. “Ya’ll hafta cough up fifty bucks soon.” 
“‘M not coughin’ up shit until I see ‘t.” The other man besides him grimaces as he speaks, voice a little too loud in the silence of the night. “So, little Suna, ya like yer brother?” Atsumu’s eyes glint gold as he takes in how you’re still pressed into your big brother’s side, and you give him a polite nod as answer. Then the blond glances up at him instead, and leans back on the log he’s sat on. “What now, Sunarin…”
“He’ll do it,” Osamu mumbles.
And Atsumu frowns, taking a beer of his own. “Shut up, he couldn’t, Samu.”
They continue with the bickering as Rintaro’s hand slides down your spine to comfort you a little. “Do what?” you whisper, almost as if to yourself, and Rintaro’s breath hitches in his throat. Your eyes glisten as you turn to look up at him now, lips glossy as they pull into a frown. You clear your voice to speak louder, demanding as your chest presses against his belly in the process. “What did you take me out here for, Rintaro? Do what?”
His tongue rubs along the back of his teeth as he dares to finally, finally confront you — towering over you as he does, and takes your hand. You go blank-faced, and try to pull back; because maybe, whatever you see on his face isn’t the answer you were hoping for. But his fingers wrap tighter around your wrist, and he cracks open his mouth to let out a little chuckle. “What, you don’t trust your big brother?”
“Tell me what’s happening, Rin nii.” Your rapid breathing and the way you grab at his shirt like you’re ready to push, fight him if you have to, it stings. But he’s a good enough actor to bite through it to paint a smile on his lips, ignoring the eyes he can feel on the two of you. Staring in anticipation. There’s a few tense moments where you just stare up at him, big, innocent eyes flicking all over his face in question. Before you grow impatient and try to pull your hand away again, only to be stopped by his arm where he wraps it around the small of your waist. “I want to go home, nii nii,” your lip shakes, voice quieting to barely a whisper, “let go.”
“We’re just playing, little sis,” he breathes out with another smile, though he’s sure this one barely reaches the corners of his lips. Biting his bottom lip, he leans down further into your space until you’re basically nose to nose and your eyes go wide in shock. It happens before his brain can catch up with his body. One second you’re shoving at his shoulder in an attempt to escape from whatever situation he’s just trapped you in, and the next he’s pulling your head back by your hair and is kissing you like he means it. He does mean it.
Everything goes deathly quiet, save for the crackling of the fire and the rapid pounding of his blood rushing through his brain. Cheeks hot and lips tingly. His tongue is in your mouth before either of you have any chance to catch your balance, pulling you into him full force and squeezing you so close it’s suffocating. And then he moans, and you let out a muffled noise into his mouth and everything comes in with the weight of the world. The guys’ shocked mumbles. Your nails digging into his arm, your whimpering, the way you’re pushing against him and trying to snake out of his grip.
But it doesn’t really matter, because he’s still kissing you. You, the apple of his eye, the one thing he’s wanted more than he’s ever wanted anything. He’s actually fucking kissing you, making out with his little sister like the fucked up lunatic his friends bet he was. Can’t help but lick into the sweetness of your mouth and claim you for himself. “Stop wiggling. I don’t wanna hurt you,” Rintaro huffs in the split second you manage to separate yourself from him, before forcing another kiss on you and his time, your tongue tangles with his much sweeter. Turning into lazy kissing when you slump into his hold and your shaky hands reach for his collar. His head is heavy as he pulls back to stare at your puffy lips, the way your wet lashes flutter— and his stomach flips hard.
“Take off your shirt,” Rintaro breathes out into the tenseness of the air, “pants too.” Whatever you want to say next is interrupted by the way Atsumu breathes out a hoarse ‘bro’, and you stare at your big brother with utter mortification written all over your face. You shake his hands off of you and reach up to slap him hard across the cheek— though not nearly hard enough to knock him out of his love-drunk haze; and he’s grabbing at you and pulling you closer towards the firepit.
“Rintaro, no! Stop it, stop!” You cry as you’re hauled into clearer view and he manhandles you down onto the ground, with his body on top of you. “Stop being so weird, I wanna go home!” you can only squeak, and beg as your glossy eyes spill over into thick tears. “I did as you asked, now let me go~!” It’s with almost nauseating regret that he feels his cock stir hard in his jeans at the sight, the touching and blubbering panic crossing your pretty features.
“Rintaro, people will hear.” Aran softly speaks from the side, the twins rendered entirely quiet too.
But he— can’t let this chance go, can he? He loves you, loves you so fucking much it makes him sick. After years of longing and regret, you can’t possibly blame him. Your pitiful whining dies down almost instinctively when he kisses you again, claiming your mouth and cheeks and down your neck with hot panting, and grabs your upper arms to heave himself above you. “Come on, just trust me. Please. Big brother will take care of you.”
“No!” Your pretty cheeks are wet with tears by the time he takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. You’re halfway towards bawling your eyes out in his arms, clinging so desperately to him that the realization punches him in the belly hard enough to quiet him. Tongue tied. He’s immediately flooded by the weight of his actions, apologetic or not, loosening the grip he has on you just enough for you to take a sniffled breath and push yourself from the floor. You punch him hard in the chest, and run your hand under your nose to wipe away the snot and tears there, then get up entirely.
“I hate you, you’re such a dick! All of you.” You bite out through your tears, wobbly on your shaky legs. His mouth drops open, and suddenly he’s never felt more guilt in his whole life— he is so sorry, so, so, sorry— but before he can say anything of use, you’re turning on your heel, and marching out of their presence.
It wasn’t his stupid bet. It wasn’t him who noticed your infatuation with him first, it was them, it was his friends- his stupid friends— but- “Wait,” Rintaro manages to mumble, barely adible. But Osamu’s the first to move. Or rather -the only one not frozen in the absolute chaos of the moment- calling your name and gently jogging towards you as you disappear towards the far end of the quiet park. 
+
Rin.
Rin.
You don’t hate him anymore, do you? It’s been years, so he’s sure you can’t. He’s been patient. And apologetic, too. Penitent.
It’s definitely a few hours past midnight when he rolls over to meet warm skin, arm curling subconsciously around the heat. He lets out a long, heavy breath, burying deeper into the soft blanket. Before sharp eyes open again and zero in on the shape before him, no longer alone in the spare bed.
“Rin nii,” you whisper, looking ever so attentive.
He’s cold and warm all at once. “It’s the middle of the night,” his voice comes out heavier and a bit raspy as he pulls back his hand, “go back to bed.” You don’t acknowledge it, but are quick to tangle your fingers with his again despite his hesitation.
“Osamu says we should talk-”
“-we can talk in the morning,” Rin snaps back, staring at your face. It’s harsh, but … he’s well aware of his faults by now. And doing his best not to long for more is so much harder when you’re pressed close to him and look at him like he hung the moon in the sky. Truth is, he doesn’t trust himself anymore. Because he knows that if given the chance, he’d do everything Osamu did and then some— kiss your pretty lips until you run out of air and choke on his love. The silence remains thick between you two, your smaller hand squeezing tight around his. He’s really not sure how it happens, but you manage to shuffle close enough to take up his entire world, your legs tangled with his long limbs without hesitation. And you take a deep breath.
“I love you.” Rintaro’s pretty sure he’s lucid dreaming when you say it, whisper it like it’s a well kept secret; and don’t shy away from him when he leans in to hover his lips over yours. “Samu says we should make up, for his sake.” He can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it, but he nods anyway, barely sane as he stays right in place. Smiling, because he must be. A lunatic. Pining for his little sister like a first class Oedipus complex. “Are you sorry?” you ask, and he answers genuinely— because if nothing else, he loves you too much to care about perception.
“Always.” This too, is the truth. “I shouldn’t want you, but I do. I hate it.”
“I -” you start, and loop an arm around his neck to draw him even closer, “I wanted you first.” Everything goes a little crooked in his head. Palms clammy, he grips your hip with his free hand, and nose to nose, you let him pull you in more. Even daring to break the silence, heavy lashes fluttering with your words. “I don’t want you to leave anymore, niichan.” And then there’s a kiss. A hard kiss, grabbing your cheeks and pulling you in, immediately moving you to get pinned below him. With tongue and teeth, you two melt together as you whine and moan, and send him into a spiral even more than before.
“Always showing me what I can’t have,” Rintaro grunts as you tangle your fingers into the base of his hair, threading through it as you let him take you— wrap your thighs around his glutes. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” The kiss grows deeper, more intense, as he heaves his weight above you and presses you into the pillows, entire body hot and cold all at once. You’re so sweet under him, clinging to his wide shoulders as you give yourself to him and roll your hips against his. A soft ‘more’ is moaned against his lips, something he gladly gives into, pulling away to rid himself of the shirt making him overheat, and shoving his shorts down.
Then he's back to your mouth, and moaning your name into it, sucking on your tongue and squeezing your cheeks like he can’t possibly be close enough to you. His wiry body is wrapped entirely to swallow you up whole, strong thighs against your soft ones, your chest rising and falling against his, and an entirely new sort of noise falling from you as he goes between kissing you and nipping down your neck with greedy love bites. “You’re so- hmh, fucking beautiful; you’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” He pants against your neck as his cock swells in his boxers, pushing hard against the stretchy fabric and against your pelvic area and leaving him a trembling mess.
Like he’s a giddy teen all over again, you leave him sweating and too eager to really think. Hands come to squeeze your tits, all the years of pent up tension pouring into the kisses and words he lays on your skin, and you let him. Let all his doubt melt away into you as you kiss him again too, and moan for your big brother like you’ve never done before. He’s had the pleasure and punishment of hearing your noises plenty before, and not once were you like this. So vocal, desperately withering beneath his hands as they slide up your top and suck on your pebbled nipples.
Your hips buck against his hard cock until he can’t take another second, and crawls back to shove his boxers down his thighs. His heavy cock is leaking pre and glossy at the tip as it bounces between his legs, and his entire body feels electric when you moan loud and needy at the sight. “Niichan, please.” His ego glows bright in the darkness, at your coaching, and the way you’re desperately trying and failing to pull him closer. It’s cute. You’re cute. And also so fucking quick to follow suit and shuffle out of your panties it kinda shocks him, his balls feeling heavy and needy too.
He rolls your nipple between his fingers a few times, before sliding his big hands along your body down and overy your raised mound, and puffy lips of your wet -really fucking wet- pussy to stare. “G-od, please, nii nii, I want you. I love you,” you babble as you so hopelessly beg him to get closer, but the way your pussy glistens in the low light of the room is too much to ignore.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he coos, and chuckles in disbelief as his fingers find no resistance upon pushing into your clenching, sloppy cunt like he’s been dreaming of for years. “You wanted your big brother’s cock this bad? Hm?” Your head bps up and down honestly, tears glistening at your lash line while you curl in the blankets, and he doesn’t hold back from gripping his cock hard and wiping the head along your slit until your wetness coats him entirely. You feel so fucking good— it’s criminal. He’s already halfway to coming just from touching you like this, grabbing your chest to suck there impatiently. He lets out a long hum when you curl your arms around his head and sucks hard on your nipples, moving between the two of them to kiss and bite at his sister’s tits.
“Always want you, Rin. Even when you…” you go quiet, before biting your lip hard, “I still w-want you. Does that make me crazy?”
He’s back nose to nose when he pulls back to look at you proper, and the way you’re about to cry, cunt kissing the head of his cock and distracting him from full sentences. “No, you’re- it’s not. You’re my girl, ‘kay? Agh, you’re your big brother’s body t-to use. Give me a kiss.” You moan into it as he pulls you up against his body more, positioning you so that your cunt drools onto his cock and the hot, flushed head of it is able to rock against your needy pussy. His fat, heavy cock slips in while you’re saying his name, and makes his head go light and body go tingly.
You’re so fucking tight. So wet and sloppy all for him, and he groans long and deep as he pulls you down all the way onto his cock and fat balls with a slow pull. He can’t help it, his little sister’s just so fucking pretty taking his cock deep into your belly. Has him humping against you without much control, rhythm animalistic as he stuffs you full of cock with each hard pump. The sharp sting of his hip bones into your supple skin is enough to have you crying out, dutifully holding your hands to his broad shoulders with your head buried deep into his neck. It rattles the bed hard and obnoxious, and he doesn’t give a fuck.
Let Samu wake up, it’s all his fault anyways. All the noise and stimulation of his cock head nudging against your spongy spot has you trying to blink back tears, mouth cracked open and lips so puffy and pretty. Your cunt’s sucking on his cock like it’s enchanted, needing more and more and more. And Rintaro’s all too glad to give. “Rin nii, Rinta—” you whisper, choking your little breaths down and pushing back to meet his thrusts, tits bouncing with the motions.
“Fuck, baby sister, that’s it. Your pussy’s so fuck—ing good, s’tight. Takes me so- ugh, ah, so well.” He pulls your hips up into him to force his cock even deeper inside you, your gushing walls clinging to his pretty cock tighter than he can handle. Your body arches and trembles below him too, he can tell by the way you’re  trying and failing to hang on more with his coaching, mewling incoherent pleas as your pussy gushes around him. “My little sister likes being stuffed full of cock? Like getting that needy pussy stretched by her nii nii, hm?” ‘Yes, yes,’ you babble over and over again, thighs sinking a little lower to tilt your hips into his thrusts.
This way his spongy, sensitive head bumps so perfectly up against your spot each time he fills you that it’s impossible to think straight. Let alone respond properly, barely aware he’s asked you anything at all. He can’t blame you, close enough to come with every single motion of his hips meeting yours. Each thump of the bed frame rattling as it hits the wall.  “God, fuck, I’m fucking my little sister. ‘M so sorry. So fucking— shit, ahg-fuck.”
“Rintaro, rintaro, I’m close,” you breathe into a kiss you force onto him, taking his cheeks between both hands to pull him back to you and feel his balls slap against your ass, and strong thighs straining as he fucks into you again. “I want my big brother to make me cum.”
“Yeah, you wanna get this pretty belly filled with my cum?” He presses one hand between your bodies to your belly to push down on it, tightening the space around his cock even more and making him groan. Your cunt’s clenching around his dick so hard it’s making him lightheaded. Hair sticks to his face as he grips your face to slide his tongue into your mouth, and put all his devotion into showing you. Again, all you can do is bite your lip and moan, rolling your hips back right when he thrusts all the way back inside your ring of muscles. He only speeds the rhythm up when you don’t answer, laying down onto your body to bite the crook of your neck with a grunt. “Tell me, c’mon, fucking tell me. I wanna hear it.”
“Ah, I want my— b-big brother to cum in me,” you whimper at his hot breath on your neck and sticky skin molding with yours as his hips pound into you and his cock forces open your desperate walls. “Feels so good, so big, -ah- please. Gonna cum, g’na cum~ niichan.” He takes a deep breath at that, lifting himself off you and one hand coming to wrap around your throat to hold you for leverage, squeezing just right at the sides. It’s so perfect, the coil in your belly ready to snap so hard. You dangle on the edge of orgasm long enough to make your eyes roll back into your head. “Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah, cream all over my cock. You’re gonna milk me for every last bit of nii nii’s cum, that’s it.” You try to nod in his hold, but you’re being bounced on his cock so hard at this point that the blood’s rushing between your ears and deafening you. All that’s left is your needy body pushing back onto his cock and shaking when he sneaks his other hand between your legs to rub at your clit hard and precisely, with tiny circles right on the puffy, glossy nub. “Cum so that I can fill this pretty, cumdump pussy with my seed, baby. Come on. Cum. You’ll make me a daddy, right?” he hisses, squeezing harder and letting you see stars over your closed eyelids, pussy fluttering around him and pulling him back inside with each wet ‘pap’. “Say it,” he grunts.
“Yes, yes, I wan’it,” your voice rises in pitch each word with the relentless rubbing of your puffy clit, before your back arches entirely and you reach back to claw at his thighs as your orgasm hits you. His fingers don’t stop for a second as you cry out. “Ha-hng, big brother, big bru~dder! Want your cum, want Rin nii’s hot cum filling me up, please! Please- niichan!” His rhythm goes even faster, balls smacking to your dripping pussy and cock stretching you out so pretty.
You’re so pretty for him, shaking on his cock as he fucks you through it, and kisses your face for a few more thrusts before he cums with a choked grunt of your name, fucking hot ropes of white into your gushing cunt. With a low, choked grunt he pulls out and slides three of his fingers in instead to keep your clenching pussy nice and plugged up, and keeping every drop of cum right where it belongs. And though he can tell you’re tired, you still take the time to brush your fingers along his cheek, and look up at him. “Love y’ nii nii. I forgive you.”
“I love you too,” he mumbles back, on his knees and suddenly exhausted too. The door squeaks just barely as Rin allows the moment to break and turns over his shoulder. To look at the hall and the face peeking into the room with an unimpressed, tired glance between the two of you. “Yer both so fuckin’ loud, fuck.” He gives the man a quick look of something resembling understanding though, and waves his hand as he disappears back into the master bedroom across the hall. “An’ yer fuckin’ welcome.”
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iwaasfairy · 4 months
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bones and all +hq! (anyone) just something super fucked up with lots of blood 💋🫀
this was so sexyyyy idk I’m very into gross icky blood stuff rn
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tw murder, gore, yandere
Red coats the walls. It splatters out into grasping hands with each brutal blow, baseball bat full of nails shattering the bone below it until the whining dies down. Along with the frantic screaming, and you sink to your knees at the sight. Within seconds, your housemate has been reduced to a heap of meat and bone and sinew, leaving her coppery tang in the air. Your legs have buckled, and now you’re on the cold floor, there’s nothing you can do but watch and shake.
The blood pools under her legs, because those are intact -upper body too. But gunk and brain matter is spilled on your floor, and the puddle of red gains surface the longer you stare, trying not to hurl your guts out. If you could look away you would. If you could run, you would. A low puff of air sounds, before the invader turns on his heel and stares you down. “There she is.” It’s faint, almost apologetic in its delivery. He pulls the mask down his mouth as he wipes the back of his hand over his face.
Your hands shake uncontrollably in your lap, and the stinging in your face surges through your bones. Atsumu.
“Ya missed my entrance,” he’s got a grin on his face - but his eyes are so blown out it’s hard to believe it really is him. For a few moments, he looks entirely, sickly unfamiliar. Not long enough to give you time to collect yourself before he approaches though, dragging the bloody bat along with him. “Sorry ‘bout yer little friend. Came at me with scissors… The bitch’s almost as wild as you are when yer upset.”
He has a frown on his face when he looks back, but the slightest curl to his lips doesn’t slip. His hands come up to hold onto your shoulder as he sighs. “So,” he lets out a soft hum, and then thumbs along your cheek with his hands still stained, bloodied as he touches you, “r’ya ready ta go?” You can’t help but feel bad. Even moving your eyes up to look at him feels like it’s taking all the energy you have.
This is all your fault. Atsumu came for you. You’d signed the papers and found a friend to live with, and you had hoped that would’ve been enough - but you didn’t think… you- Nao tried to protect you, and now she’s gone. There was a time you would’ve trusted Tsumu with your life. “Y-you,” your throat locks up when you say it, and the wobbly vision gets too much, spilling over, “wh-what did you do? Why?”
The blond barely pulls up his nose, before giving you a look. “Didn’t ya hear me? I came in through the window an’ she came at me. Couldn’t be helped.” The way his hand is still around the makeshift weapon somehow doesn’t convince you of his perceived innocence. Almost as soon as you think that, he follows your gaze, and slowly starts chuckling as he realizes the same thing. “Baby doll…”
You scramble. Atsumu drops the bat to crash himself into you and grab at your arms, but one well aimed kick onto his knee has him wincing, and it gives you just enough time to get up and dash towards the door. That also means running through the pool of liquid slowly drying on the floor, but your vision’s so blurry that you don’t even register it. You slip as you slam the door behind you and Tsumu curses— your heart’s pumping so hard you don’t hear it.
Not until someone gets a fistful of your hair and yanks you back so hard you think your scalp might come clean off. Until you land in the cold gravel and a foot pushes into your soft throat. Tsumu’s able to make it out narrowly before your vision starts blurring at the edges, and you claw at the limb for air. “Samu, ya’ll hurt ‘er.” As soon as you get a tiny bit of leeway you’re grabbing at the skin and hacking up spit, painfully tight airways burning.
Osamu only glares back at the blond. “‘I got it covered, Samu. Don’t be a bore, Samu,’” he mocks, before crossing his strong arms over his chest. “Yer sloppy, ‘n lucky I was ‘ere ta stop ‘er.”
“Yea, yea,” the other man sighs, before he crouches by you and lovingly brushes your hair away from your face. “Yer cute when ya try so hard, y’know. Gets us going.” He snickers, then raises a brow. “Samu won’t admit it but it gets him goin’ too. But next time ya get caught… we’ll take one of yer fingers. That’s only fair.”
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iwaasfairy · 2 years
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big brothers osamu and atsumu teaming up and deciding to be pervs towards you.
osamu is the kinder, gentler big brother. who knows how to cover his tracks rather well. he constantly makes you food and buys things to distract you from the truth. while he hands you a fresh hot rice ball, you’re too excited to notice his eyes staring deep down into your shirt, noting the supple mounds that rest on your chest. his baby sister’s tits are great.
atsumu who is the teasing, pouty brother. he’s a lot sloppier than his twin, and barely covers his tracks. when ever you catch his gaze on your breasts, instead of stumbling out an excuse like most, he flashes you a foxy grin with a winks before walking away. if you were ever confront him about it, he’ll shrug and say something along the lines of ‘don’t be weird about it. i’m your brother, i can look.’
- 🍓
OkaY I LOVE THIS I LOVE THEM BEing gross and pervy but I can’t get it out of my head that I will always swear up and down on my life, my pussy and my honour as a niichan fucker that Osamu is 1000% the worse of the two. Because with Atsumu you see it coming. He has no intention of hiding his depravity and longing for his little sister as anything else, he just is. He steals kisses and insists that you sleep in his bed, and walks around the house basically begging you to let him play with your tits or put his mouth on your cunny or yours on him.
But Osamu pretends. Pretends that he’s disgusted by it, pretends that he has no interest in doing that and so much worse when Atsumu loudly gushes about making you strip for him and rub yourself onto his hard cock. He’s the one that waits for kisses in return for making you food or putting your laundry away or rubbing your back, he’s the brother that slips into the bath with you and makes you sit in his lap, and makes you both not acknowledge the hardness you’re sitting on unless it is to wrap a ring of your fingers around it and to rest his head on your shoulder while moaning your name.
But when they’re bothering you at the same time?? They’re both at their worst, because we knowwww how competitive they get. And they don’t care that your pussy is too little for either of them, let alone both of your big brothers.
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iwaasfairy · 2 years
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I don't remember much about that best friend Osamu ask thing, except that it was tagged with 'tw.soft' but I searched that and Tumblr told me that there was nothing with that tag...
Maybe you can find it in the osamu tag? #💫ch.osamu ,,, I’m really sorry I can’t be of more help baby, I often write things and then completely forget about them so I have absolutely no clue where I’d even begin
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iwaasfairy · 3 years
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𝙼𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚁
there’s few things that can shake miya atsumu. one thing that can, the way his little sister begs for his help. 
.wordc. 2.2k+ tw incest, dubcon/noncon, voyeurism
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He’s not exactly known for being the moral compass of the world. In all of his life, he’s thought about things before jumping head first approximately two times, and neither thought was concerning the goodness of his actions. But he’s also not a bad person, or tries not to be. When it comes to most things he’s a pretty decent human, and for the parts he lacks, well— that’s probably why he has a twin. It’s making those important calls on his own that give Atsumu a hard time here and there. And in all fairness, he thinks, it's not his fault he didn’t notice quite as quickly as someone else might’ve.
He’s not home a lot, and even when he is, you’ve all always been close as siblings. Too close sometimes, but it’s what works for you guys so what others think doesn’t matter. He’s learned to tune out most of what Osamu does on a daily basis, and has to in order to stay sane in his own little slice of life without feeling like he’s constantly mirroring his twin. What the other does is not his problem, you don’t say anything if it doesn’t concern you. That is how he’s used to handling his siblings, when it’s not so painfully obvious that something is wrong. 
It’s in the way you invite him home every free weekend like he’s some saint, though the first dozen times he only thinks it’s because you miss him a lot. When both your big brothers moved out you must’ve felt abandoned, and you clung just a little tighter when hugging him goodbye after visits. Then when Osamu started Onigiri Miya you moved into his apartment to help as a part-time employee, also avoiding the long commute to uni. You would send him cute pictures of the two of you in the uniform and asking him tons of questions when on the phone, always making the hard days a bit better. 
Your favorite question was always ‘when are ya visiting again, Tsumtsum nii?’ and what can he say, it was strangely nostalgic to have you so excited and giddy about what he was doing. Even if you did tend to send him lots of little texts throughout the day that he didn’t get to answer until hours later. He figured you were just lonely and— he hopes— part of that is still true. That the pout and tears you flashed him, the ones he took as a cute, childlike gesture every time he left you for a busy couple of weeks of training, weren’t just desperation.
But then the phone calls started. Nothing like the upbeat message you'd leave him during the day, no. These were few and far in between, and they never left him with a good feeling. You’d sob into the receiver on the other end at 5 in the morning, oftentimes right when he was ready to tuck into bed after being out with his teammates. “When are ya coming back to Sendai, niichan? I need to see you again,” you’d cry and cry and cry, and nothing he said then could soothe you. He’d tell you to wake Osamu up, your voice suddenly growing so quiet. “I’m calling from the hall, I can’t wake him up,” is all you’d answer, hanging up not long after. Just a nightmare, you’d explain the morning after. And Atsumu believed you.
What was he supposed to do? The messages about you sleeping badly to Samu were always answered with the same unsurprised level-headedness he’d come to expect from his twin. And you were a grown woman now, if you had to see a doctor for it, you would. He did try to make his visits back to Sendai fewer in between, to settle the little voice in the back of his skull at least a little. And you’d smile so brightly and cling so tight whenever he did, Atsumu would ruffle your hair and laugh along with his twin. He didn’t say anything about your boyfriend, but he knew you had one, since you were always covered head to toe in kiss marks. Things were good.
They are great even… until the end of volleyball season, when the Black Jackals get some time off and he decides to spend it with his siblings. Your apartment is so comfortable after having lived here for almost two years, it’s so warm and filled with a familiar glow of home. And he could’ve spent it at his parents’ home or even his own house alone, but it’s nice to stay over here too. Tsumu laughs when he notices there’s even more pictures of just you and Osamu on the shelves. “Yer gonna have to take some of all three of us soon, or else people will forget there’s another twin!” You giggle when he pokes your side, but strangely, the joy doesn’t reach past your lips.
“Maybe that’s what we’re going for,” Samu says.
The blond grabs his chest dramatically and stumbles forward, toppling over into the couch. “How could you? Yer killin’ me, dude,” he whines, and your eyes seem to get a little brighter at the normality of their bickering. The other twin just snorts, taking his brother’s bags in hand and walking them to the spare room without complaining. And the little sister… you linger. You do that a lot when he visits since you moved in here, but Atsumu can’t really remember if it’s something you used to do when you were kids too. Like you have something more to say. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth. Shifting onto your heels and picking at the majorly oversized clothing you’re wearing. Looking closer, it seems to be one of Samu’s sweatshirts— 
Osamu calls your name as he rounds the corner, and your fidgeting stops. His brother glances over at the couch with a small smile, then down at you where you stand to his side. “Will ya get Tsumu set up for us? I’m sure he’s tired.” He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek, and your eyes flutter. “I’m going to check on the food, ‘kay?” It’s not much of a question, since he moves into the kitchen before you can answer. But you nod, and motion him along.
“Here, Tsumtsum nii,” you walk the hall next to him, hand flexing and unflexing a few times before you hold your breath, then gently slipping it into his larger one. And yes, it is a strange interaction, he thinks while looking down at you but you lean into him so sweet and finally seem to relax a little that he doesn’t fault you for a second. You point at the door with your free hand, “this is your room, we moved the desk to the side! I think you’ll like it.”
He smiles down at you when you push open the door so softly, like you’re scared to leave your fingerprints on anything but him, before following your eyes. There’s a little stuffie next to the pillow, one he recognizes. It used to be his when he was a little kid, he had no idea you still had it. But it’s clearly your doing, Samu would never come up with something so thoughtful. “Ya didn’t have to move all yer stuff out of a room for me, didya?”
You seem to pale a little when you look up into his warm eyes, but swallow. “No.” The serious tone catches him off guard. And he doesn’t like getting into other people’s business, but he’s glad when you continue. “I sleep with Samu nii in the room.” Your eyes are on the floor, mouth set into a little line. You breathe in and out a few times under his calculated gaze, before you look back up at him and bite your lip. “There’s fresh towels in the bathroom if you want to take a shower. I should get back to niichan, he’ll call me soon.” You pull your small hand from his, and it’s only then that he notices how sweaty your palm was. Which doesn’t make sense, since you should have nothing to be nervous about. Before you rush down the hall, you turn over your shoulder. “I’m really glad you’re staying for a while, Tsumtsum nii.”
It’s three days in when he starts feeling the familiar itch of working out. You’d scold him though, so he slips out the door as quietly as possible, going for a late night run. When he comes back to the door, drenched in sweat, he jumbles the keys. Pushes them in, turns and then— stops.
“Niichan, hng- niichan!” Your voice is muffled though the wall, but it’s clearly… He drops the keys on the table, shuffling forward in the dark. “It- ah ah ah- it’s too big, not so hard.” It sounds like you’re trying to keep quiet, but the distinct sound of the headboard hitting the wall over and over is grating. Atsumu sits through too much of the moans and grunts before finally coming back to the world enough to go to his room. “Samu niichan, please stop. Tsumtsum nii will be back.” He stops halfway there, because your door is swung open like his is. And Osamu is balls deep inside you, your head pushed into the pillows and turned toward the wall.
“Fuck, yer so tight,” he hisses, the smacking of his slow, deep pace still obnoxious enough to fill the house. “That feels good, doesn’t it? Slutty girl.” You’re pulled back into his hips with each thrust, whining softly. And with your wet pussy filled again and again to the brim right in front of him, it’s hard to think logically. He should have known when Samu looked up your skirt on the stairway last month, or how easily he pulled you into his lap just last night, but even now he’s staring right at you both it is hard to fathom. This feels like a hallucination. “Take my cock like the good, little wife ya are, that’s it.”
You whine and drool onto the pillow until Samu pulls out of you to turn you over. He slides right back in as you moan out at the stretch, before his skin smacks into yours and his hand snakes down to rub harshly over your puffy clit. After a few thrusts, he lays his much bigger body right over yours, kissing you deeply. You shake your face into the kiss, but still cling to him. Your tits rise and fall so pretty for him, it’s almost hard to believe he never noticed before. 
“Samu nii, more. Deeper,” you plead, pushing back against his thrusts. “I want to cum.” The headboard gets louder, and the brunet’s low moans do too.
“Oh, don’t worry,” his twin grunts, digging his fingers deep into the soft skin of your ass as he hauls your thighs closer, “I will never forget about my princess, even when ya get mad at me for it. Now say thank you for niichan’s cock, so that I can fuck ya properly.” You shake your face wildly again, letting out a little squeal at a harder pump of the fat cock pounding into you. When you don’t respond, he grabs your throat between his strong fingers and squeezes, as you hick and cling to his hand. “Quickly, yer really testing my patience today.”
Atsumu is not exactly known for being the moral compass of the world. And being so similar to his twin, he tries to be a good person. He does.
“Thank you, niichan, thank you for yer cock,” you squeeze out, little voice sounding so fucking adorable. “Now please let me cum.” Osamu holds you tighter and really starts fucking you into the mattress so hard it might wake him up if he wasn’t already, the squelching and loud smack of his skin connecting to your slicked up center overwhelming. Your back curls off the bed, little legs shaking and toes curling into the soft plush. “Niichan, niichan! Pl- Ah- nii-hnggg fuck.”
But really— admitting your twin is a bad guy is like admitting you’re a bad guy. And if there’s one thing Atsumu doesn’t like, it’s talking down to himself. So when you squeal and shake around your brother’s cock, his dick twitches against his stomach. The feeling of guilt at getting hard from what he’s watching is overruled by the wave of heat that surges to his balls and cock as your knees lock around Osamu’s thick thighs and you cum so pretty, letting your face drop toward him with your eyes squeezed shut and your lips hung open. His back is still sticky from his run, but your fucked, little expression could have done the same. And then you tilt your head back to expose your branded throat where Samu buries his face, and your lashes flutter.
He’s touching his cock when you notice him, your eyes widening and you jump to hide under Samu more. Fuck, you’re so cute. Osamu is still fucking into you with hard snaps, wide back covering you mostly from view. “Samu nii, stop,” you mumble against his temple, “please stop, look!”
“I’m not fucking sharing this wet cunt,” he just grunts, and you try to push him off to no avail. Atsumu huffs as he walks closer, shutting the door behind him. At the click Samu looks up for just a moment, before frowning. “She’s mine. Fuck off.” Then he pushes himself up from you a bit to grab your tit and make you whimper. He’s at the bed now, and his knees almost give out at your glossy eyes and the sounds your cunt makes. The brunet holds his motion for a moment. “Yer welcome to use her mouth just this once, but ya make a move on her and I’ll kill ya.”
Your eyes droop a little when he slips his pants down his legs, but you don’t seem surprised. You know what kind of person he is, surely. So Atsumu wraps his hand around his leaking cock, kneeling next to your face as you sniffle. “Just put Tsumtsum nii’s cock into your mouth.” His thumb brushes past your lips. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” He’s not bad, but he’s never pretended to be a saint. It’s your own fault for imagining him as one.
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iwaasfairy · 3 years
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𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙱𝙻𝙴
indelible; something ingrained, unfading, indestructible you never really minded the twin rivalry. until you ended up in the middle of it, with atsumu on the losing side. 
sequel to mirror (you don’t need to have read it before but it’s recommended)
.wordc. 5k+ tw incest, noncon > dubcon, mentions of past noncon, jealousy, hair pulling, praise kink, unprotected sex
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Sometimes you wonder what the world would look like if you could have two suns in the sky. Or two halves of the same core, the same molten stardust that flickers with life. You’re not sure the world could handle it, or at best— you alone can’t. But you grew up knowing them this way, only ever together. Always in competition with each other, always driving each other forward— at a frightening pace sometimes.
They are both fiery, hardworking and passionate, always have been, and as you grew it became their trademark more with the years. Incessantly. Where Tsumu is precise, Osamu is diligent. Where Osamu is confident and self-assured, Tsumu is bursting at the seams with energy. To strangers they’d be the typical image of similarity. If you’d ask their close friends, they’d probably tell you the twins are more different than you can imagine. But to you, and you’ve been with them almost as long as they’ve been with each other, they are nothing more than distorted shimmers of broken light on the wall.
Not the same or completely foreign, but part of the same blur. You guess in some ways you belong to that whole too— even before you know it yourself.
It’s when you’re five that your older brothers go through a bit of a bully phase. Not to anyone outside the family, just to each other. And to you, with your silly pigtails and a bottom lip that is a bit too easy to shake. And though it’s both of them that tackle you in the grass when you run, sometimes getting on top of you to wrestle when you threaten to tell mom, you remember figuring out at age five which half of the whole it is to stick with at what time.
Samu nii is a lot of things, but he isn’t the one to look for when they bump past you and knock you to the ground. It won’t ever be Samu nii who gives up his chance of winning in order to help their tiny, little sister. Atsumu’s hands are warm when he reaches for you though, and his sleeves always feel soft when he’s wiping your face from the silvery tracks of tears.
When you’re nine, you realize that while Osamu isn’t the one to drop to his knees to help you up, he does care about your wellbeing. Any big brother would- even if they don’t admit it, but he always seems to take pride in it. When one of the boys of your class manages to place a wet kiss on your cheek during lunch and you and your little friends scatter with squeals and the dramatic overreactions only young girls can have, it’s Osamu who crosses the yard to come pull you behind him.
You don’t think protecting you like this would ever even cross Atsumu’s mind, and so it’s easy to bury your face into his back and cling to his sweater while he glares down the boy. It’s Atsumu who laughs it off when you all walk home together at the end of the day, fingers held a little too tight in your brother’s hands.
And it’s when you’re fourteen that Atsumu pulls you into the world’s tightest hug after school, clutching you to his chest. It’s not the first time you see him cry, but it’s the first time you remember taking notice of just how much he truly wants this, sniffling into your neck that he’s invited to the National Youth camp. It’s that night you hold him in your arms and stroke his hair, cuddled up under the soft blankets in the bottom bunk, letting him know that it’s okay if he’s going on ahead. That you and Samu nii will stick together and catch up to him.
And it’s Osamu who comes to sit at the end of the bed when your other brother has fallen asleep, softly snoring, who makes you link pinkies and promise things, quiet in the night. “Atsumu’s gonna go pro, ya’know?” he whispers, and you hum through the thick, dark tension when he looks at his twin, curled up resting on your chest. “He’ll leave,” he says, “so promise you won’t. Promise yer stayin’ with me.”
Promise you’ll be mine.
Promise.
Promise.
You do. It’s when you’re eighteen you learn that where Atsumu grabs hold of the top and strives on to deliver, Osamu promises only what he already knows he can give. And you learn that to Samu nii, promises are sacred.
+
Your house is quieter after that night, and Atsumu doesn’t know why he doesn’t leave. He no longer seems welcome, the tension radiating off of his twin clear enough a sign, but it’s you who delivers the finishing blow each day. You sit alone when he comes back from his runs, and you don’t bother to pretend that you’re not hurt. He’s not an idiot, hell— he’d probably do worse if he was in your place. But he also can’t help the itch he feels when he hears you crying through the wall in the other room, waking both him and Samu up. It’s his brother who pulls you into his chest and tells you to go back to sleep after you’ve stopped screaming through your nightmares, but Atsumu thinks it’s him who gave you them.
Every conversation he has with you after is clipped and hurried, and you never quite meet his eyes. It’s the same kind of distance you put between yourself and Samu, and fuck- he hates every passing second it lasts. Your chair scrapes against the floorboards too loud the last evening of his stay when you clear off everyone’s plates, putting them dutifully in the dishwasher. And Osamu, his twin— your brother for fuck sake, comes up behind you to litter kisses onto your neck and pull you close to him until you have to crack a smile. “I love you, baby,” he whispers then, and your mouth corners always drop a little when you straighten up.
“I love you too, Samu nii.”
He knows you don’t trust him anymore. And he can’t even blame you, because he knows what he did, what Samu is doing to you, is wrong. It’s far past wrong, and it eats him up inside when he has to leave and you two wave him out with a gentle pat on the back. You don’t look at him when he stands at the threshold, your eyes glossing over when he calls for your name. But you offer him another goodbye and walk back into your love den with his brother, as he stands in silence in the hall. “She’ll get over it soon enough, so ya can stop poutin’ now,” Samu mumbles, sighing. “I trust ya to keep this between us.”
His eyes trail over your pitiful form as you disappear down the hall, heart beating unfairly hard against his ribs. “Atsumu,” his brother grunts when he doesn’t respond, eyebrows narrowing. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.” He lets his gaze shift to his mirror image and crosses his arms over his chest, hoping to keep the warmth in his jacket. A hand falls to his shoulder again, and though it feels just as warning as before, the brunet takes a moment to stare into his eyes. Then he nods. “Just know she will forgive you.” The ‘she did for me after all’ stays unspoken, and Atsumu hates that the statement makes his heart swell. He knows he deserves anything you throw at him.
His twin is right in the end, though it takes long enough to have the blond’s stomach churning each time he thinks of asking you to come by some time. At least to get out of the bustle of uni life, he ends up texting you, just hoping that you still care for him enough to take him up on his offer. Just to help you, like his first instinct should have been in the first place. Never again will he touch you like that, he swears to himself, though it’s your teary expression that flashes through his brain the second before he cums almost every time. Remembering the way you’d wrapped your lips around his cock and taken him so pretty, looking at him though wet lashes and heated cheeks.
He knows he shouldn’t find it as intoxicating as he does, and it stabs at his consciousness every time he analyzes a picture of you and Samu a bit too closely. Fuck, how did he never notice the reverant way Osamu looks down at you when you’re in promotional images for Onigiri Miya together. How did he never notice the arm wrapped so tight around your waist on the image staring back at him, plenty of faces that keep the store running, but none as jarring as you two. You look like lovers, well, no— Samu does. The swelling feeling of guilt that has him staying up late at night, wondering if you’ll call him awake some time. 
He misses hearing you call him when Osamu doesn’t suffice. He misses being the one you felt safest with. So his heart soars almost painfully when you agree to stay for the weekend, getting away from Sendai for a while, and with the best intentions he agrees. He does.
But it’s odd introducing you to his team. For as close as you might’ve been in childhood and throughout all of middle and highschool, it’s only now he realizes that he never really brought you up to the people around him. He just took his shot alone and ran with it, hoping the shadow he cast was big enough to have you following. That’s how it should have been, that’s what siblings do. So why does it feel like he lost? Osamu’s employees, your neighbors, the old lady behind the counter at the store down the street recognize you and they love you, and every single one knows you’re Osamu’s little sister, never his.
So when he picks you up from the station mid-training and asks the team to go easy for the rest of practice, people glance at you like you’re the most interesting thing they’ve seen this last month. Grabbing your tiny hand and shaking it a bit too enthusiastically, pulling you into hugs and talking your ear off about the upcoming tournament before he even has the chance to speak. And when the captain comes to stand next to him for a moment with crossed arms, the guilt lurches out of his throat and keeps his tongue stuck like glue to the bottom of his mouth.
“Didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Meian laughs, clapping him on the shoulder, “and considering the guys’ reactions neither did they. As long as you keep the team as a priority as much as her, I don’t have any complaints. You seem like a good couple.” The noiret laughs then, and though Tsumu knows he should say something to correct this assumption, he can’t. “Oh, and go a bit more gentle on the poor thing, Miya. She’s bruised to hell and back.”
He joins the rest of the team in conversation not ten seconds later and lets you slip your hand into his for comfort, and the smile that comes up is instinctive. When all his friends ask for your name, he only tells them the first part. And though he knows it’s a horrible thought, he loves that you’re not the Miya twins’ little sister to them. No, to his teammates, you’re Miya Atsumu’s beautiful, smart, stunning girlfriend. And he gets a sick thrill out of watching their eyes flick over your body and the hickeys peeking out under your shirt and shorts, because he got to fuck your mouth and they didn’t.
+
The weekend together goes well enough, considering. You both spend so much time together, that it almost feels like nothing ever changed. You even call him Tsumtsum nii again. For those precious hours it feels just like it did when you three still lived together and the most you had to worry about was which big brother to feed your excess food. As he makes dinner the last night of your stay, there’s moments where it feels completely natural to have you so near, surrounding him in your presence. And with how busy he always is, it never even crossed his mind that maybe he was missing something in his home.
You.
It’s like the postcard of a perfect household, he smiles to himself, if maybe you were to add a few little ones into the mix. Not any time soon of course, you still have your school and he’s still too busy with his career, but in a couple of years. He doesn’t think of Osamu, and you don’t seem to either when you walk around and talk about anything and everything you can think of, like the months away took as much of a toll on you as they did on him. He smiles to himself stirring the vegetables, letting you bounce around the room and ruffling your hair any time you get close enough to.
But then you creep up behind him and squeeze yourself in between his arms to taste what he’s making, and everything rushes back. His traitorous brain imagines the way your ass would be pushing up against him if you shifted only an inch or two. And how perfect you fit into his arms, better than Osamu, and fuck— you smell so fucking good right now. His arm sneaks around your hips to pull you back into him, automatic, and he lets out a tiny breath when you freeze. Because for as wrong as it is, it’s always felt right to surround himself with you. Something Osamu must’ve been aware of, clearly.
“Niichan,” you mumble, grabbing at his arm and trying to move it back, but he’s always been much stronger than you. “Don’t touch me like that.”
“Why not? I’m just holding my little sister, since when is that a crime?” He puts the spatula aside, turning off the stove and trapping you into his hold more. “Is it because ya only want to belong to Osamu, s’that it? Even after everything I’ve done for ya?” The words tickle along your neck as he talks, leaning in more to press a kiss to your jaw. “How much I came to visit even though yer place is so far away, how much I took care of ya. It’s only natural I wanna hold you a little.” He presses his lips further along the line of your neck, losing himself in your warmth and scent so quickly.
But then you turn in his hold. “Tsumtsum nii, we can’t!” You place your hands on his chest and push, and while he barely moves, it’s rejection enough. And in some way it hurts more, because with Osamu you should have seen it as it was happening. But this, the hurt and jealousy swirling on his features, it has no right to be there. Because he knows just as well as you do that this is fucked up, and that it never should have happened. “Ya can’t. It’s not allowed, if mom and dad knew— y-you shouldn’t want me.”
And he does know. He knows, he knows, he knows that for as much as he loves you, there shouldn't be this urge to touch you and hold you like it keeps replaying in his mind. So he apologizes, clenching his jaw and continuing with the food in silence, something that drags on the rest of the night. When you both finish brushing your teeth and he walks you to the guest room, there’s a moment where you seem to hesitate. It reminds him of that time he stayed over at your place again now, the way you’d clung to him so tight before he knew just what was happening.
You turn on your heel and take a deep breath, before suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down the distance to press your lips to his, soft and gentle and entirely different from the kisses he’s seen Osamu steal. But this is better, so much better, because you’re doing it on your own. He moves his lips back against you for a few seconds as you cling to him, a tiny noise of contentment falling from your lips when you pull back. He rests his forehead against yours as your eyes flutter, fingers gently running through the shorter hair at the base of his skull. And the warmth between you two is almost too good to be true.
It’s in that moment he can pinpoint the last of his platonic love tumble straight into more, lust and adoration and trust all mixed into one, and the worst part is that he can’t fucking bring himself to feel guilty. Not one bit. All other girls he’s ever been with pale compared to you, they always would. But you pull away from him and he has to hold himself from pulling you back close, from pressing you up against the wall and devouring you like the starved thing you leave him as. “I love ya, Tsumu niichan,” you whisper softly, swallowing through the rough patch in your voice. “But we can’t, okay? I promised Samu nii.”
“But he-”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m his —” you hesitate on the word, still letting it taste so bitter on your tongue, “he says I’m his wife, and he takes good care of me. And I love him too, so we can’t.” You pull away entirely, dropping your hands to the doorknob and twisting it, and rubbing a sleeve under your eyes. “That’s the difference between the two of ya, niichan. Yer always gonna love volleyball a bit more than ya love me, and Osamu nii is the other way around.” Then you disappear into the guest room, and he lets you. It sticks with him as he tries to close his eyes that night, brain mangled and body hot and feverish.
But he resists the urge to touch himself to you for once, because maybe this is what defeat feels like.
The drive back to Sendai in the morning, though familiar, feels awfully foreign. Everything about the place he grew up in looks wrong and he’s more irritated than ever at the mindless mumbling of the radio, but he’ll take anything to avoid having to look at you right now. As the silence continues, there’s a nagging voice that keeps coming back around. Since when does he take defeat as a valid answer? Since when does he give a shit if he has a fighting chance or not?
Walking you out of the car and to your apartment all happens on auto-pilot, his heart swelling the longer he stares at the soft curve of your face and the way you swing your arms. You crack open the door and mumble softly to yourself as he looks at you, really looks at you. And with another breath it becomes glaringly clear that you’re supposed to be just as much his, if not more. ‘Hm, Samu nii isn’t here yet. Maybe he’s at the store,’ you say, but he doesn’t hear it.
You both walk into the apartment together, you kick the door closed as his eyes fall to one of the pictures of you and Samu together. Smiling, his arm wrapped so tight around your shoulder, wind ruffling your hair and biting at your nose and cheeks. His heart drops the longer he’s forced to look at it, and you remain oblivious as you put down the bags next to your shoes. Why, that’s all that echoes through his head as he watches you, watches you drop your jacket and pick up a ring that you must’ve left at home to keep your secret. You slip it onto your finger too easily, like it barely shocks you anymore. He hates every second of it.
“Tsumtsum nii?” Before he knows it, that fighting spark in him is breaking through like a bomb, when he grabs at your arm and pulls you into him. You freeze when he kisses you, letting his mouth melt with yours and tongue slip in between your lips, the keys dropping from your hands out of shock. You arch into his touch as he kisses you breathless, pulling back and instantly littering them down your throat, collarbones, pulling your shirt down to place them down the valley of your breasts as you pant his name. “What-”
“Yer wrong,” he hisses as he looks up at you through thick lashes, sucking the soft skin above your bra and biting there. His hands are greedy and eager as he slips them under the cups of your bra, pushing the fabric up like it’s offensive. And your hands find his hair, even though you shake your face side to side, he knows you. He knows what makes you tick and makes you cry, even more than you do. Maybe more than Samu does too. He sucks your one nipple into his mouth while flicking the other, tugging on it as you moan. “Don’t tell me what ya think ya know, because yer wrong.”
He’s quick to push you toward the floor, his size and weight more than enough to make your knees buckle, putting you into place under him. He almost snaps at the way you try to hide yourself like he hasn’t seen it all before. Like he hasn’t fucked your mouth or heard how you beg to cum like you did, but this is different. This is the lust of someone who’s got something to prove, and though you love Samu enough not to say it, he knows you want him too.
“Niichan, don’t-” you try, pushing him back by his shoulders to no avail. “Samu will know.” Even hearing that name makes him grit his teeth. So fucking unfair. Why does Samu get to have you and not him? It won’t do.
Pushing you over and yanking your ass up by your hips, you let out a little breath when he grabs a handful of ass. “S’not fair,” he hisses, other hand slipping around to push two fingers to your center through your shorts. The rough feeling of the layers of fabric rubbing up against your sensitive pussy feel good, but you still try to wiggle out from under his strong grip, shaking a bit. It’s not that you don’t love him, you love him so much. 
“Tsumtsum nii!” you cry, muscles straining from the unforgiving position.
You’ve always loved your big brothers equally, as much as Osamu tried to pretend that wasn’t true in the past. But you made a promise, and—
he cuts off your thoughts by letting one hand drop to your head and tangle into your hair with a pull that has you moaning. His free hand works on pulling your shorts and underwear down the curve of your ass and thighs. And he grunts at the sight of your pussy already wet and clenching around nothing. Because as much as you know it to be wrong, you still ache to have his cock. 
He spits onto the hole for good measure, before bringing those rough fingertips between your bottom lips and spreading them apart, cursing under his breath. “Fuckin’ look at you, already dripping for niichan. Ya pretend to belong with Samu, but yer whoring yourself out to me so easily. Letting my fingers slip in like this, hm?”
He pushes two in despite the bit of resistance, only getting harder watching your eyes roll back as he curls his fingers into the soft walls of your pussy. The lewd squelch of your walls accepting him too easily, body resisting the urge to fuck yourself back onto him. It’s so easy to tell that you want him as much as he needs you, and he’s determined to make you say it too. “Feel good?”
You clench your jaw as your walls tighten around his thick, long digits driving in and out of you. Warm slick mixed with his spit going down your thighs and his hand, as he rubs his clothed center against your ass. “Tsumu niichan,” is all you whimper out, but it’s no longer scolding. It’s a beg, a true desperation for your big brother, and as soon as you realize this you suddenly start shifting around again. “No, niichan, you can’t. We can’t, I don’t want him to be mad at me.”
“Let him.” Tsumu knows how mean his twin can get when he drives him up the wall enough, but he needs this. Needs to feel your warm pussy wrapped around his cock, so that maybe he’ll be able to drive away those plaguing thoughts about you for good.
You try to lift yourself up from the floor, but he just pushes you back down, using one arm to keep you in place and shivering as his fingers hit the same spot over and over again. Your eyes close as tears bead at the corners of your eyes, not from pain but from how overwhelming it feels to have him too. It makes you remember how it was when Samu nii first had you, but instead of only dread and shame, there’s an overwhelming need.
An ache for your empty pussy to be filled by him. It’s bad, but you cling to the fluffy carpet so easily. And his fingers feel so good inside, making your entire body feel right. When he pulls those long fingers out of you to rub the wetness over your sensitive clit, you whimper again, biting your lip to keep it in. Blood rushes between your ears, letting you hear only the pounding of your heart and the way he hisses when settling between your spread thighs. “I know yer gonna beg me for it,” he says, and as cocky as it sounds, he’s right. You both know it.
He fiddles with his belt only a second before getting the zipper and pushing his pants down his thick legs, taking his boxers with them. It’s been too long since he got any sort of proper relief. His hand never fully satisfied him, and any girl he found in his bed always looked like you, but never enough.
There was always something that left him pent up and frankly, losing his mind, because they didn’t moan or beg or sound like you. Didn’t call him niichan like you. The one time he dared ask a hookup to call him that, it had felt so wrong that he’d asked her to leave early. His cock is rock hard as it slaps up against his stomach, drooling enough precum to make the entire head look glazed, all because of you. All because his little sister is a brother fucker, and his own jealousy and devotion even worse.
You reach up a hand and bite into it to keep quiet when he nudges your legs apart more. And you obediently stay in place, which makes his cock twitch and his balls feel even heavier. No wonder Samu loves you this much. Eyes half shut and wet lines running from them, looking so fucking pretty for him. He leans in, pressing the glistening head of his cock to your warm hole and slipping in.
Though your chest heaves and you shake a little, you accept him inside so sweetly. Like he imagined you would. He pushes in a few inches at a time and watches your face scrunch up each time he fills you out further, walls clinging to his fat cock as he pulls back a little. “Fuck, yer so tight. So fucking tight and wet.” He keeps going until you throw your head back and moan into your palm, a mix of a cry and a call for his name, all muffled.
He frowns as he pushes in even more, finally bottoming out and pulling your hand away from your face. “No. Make noise, let me hear you. I deserve this much,” he grunts, pushing the head of his cock up against the end of your walls, watching you twitch and whimper, fat tears rolling down your temples. You’re so fucking beautiful for him. “Ya deserve yer big brother’s cock like this, hm? You want it.” 
Clenching your eyes shut so tight, you cry out for him again, throwing your arm back and clinging to the soft fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. And fuck— he understands. He’s never felt this fucking good, and he barely moved so far. “Gonna fuck into you how ya deserve,” he promises, planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth as you struggle for words, legs shaking.
He pulls his hips back then, leaving your dripping cunt empty, before pushing back in entirely and filling you up in a single thrust that has you really crying out. Nails digging into his muscular back and hips pushing back on him, you sob. “Niichan, niichan, your cock f-feels ah, so, s-so good. Love -hngg, love ya, Tsumtsum nii.” He pulls back again, pushing back in faster this time and building a rhythm that has you fucked stupid.
Tits bouncing and mouth dropped open, you let him fuck you like a man starved, dripping around his cock. You can’t even pretend like you don’t want him this much, because when he looks down he can see the ring of white around the base of his cock and the wetness dripping down your pussy. “Love ya too, pretty girl. Taking niichan’s fat cock so well.”
He grabs your hips tighter, leaving little ovals where his fingertips dig in, rutting himself into you with the pounding rhythm until you’re seeing double and you have to shut your eyes tightly. “Say my name, come on,” he grunts, grabbing a handful of hair for a second so he can watch your face as it contorts, heated and looking so perfectly fucked out because of him. It’s heavenly. You clench around his fat length as it slides back in each time, basically shivering from the overwhelming feeling that comes each time the head of his cock pushes into your gummy walls. “Who’s fucking ya like this?”
“Tsumu niichan,” you sob, reaching behind you to reach for something to hold onto, and he untangles his fingers from your hair to grab your hand, holding onto you with a gentleness you don’t expect. You’re left a babbling mess each time he bottoms out so good, barely coherent. “Feel s’good and big, p- can’t take it, niichan. Please, pleasepleaseplease, can’t.”
“Yes, ya fuckin’ can.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he pounds into you, before suddenly grunting and pulling out. “Yer gonna cum, huh? Cum on niichan’s cock like this.” He’s quick to turn you around and push your shaking thighs apart, his lips softly curling upwards as he urges your legs around his glutes. He positions himself back over you, turning your face toward him and laying a long, deep kiss on your lips.
You barely have the energy to kiss back, but moan into it anyway. Then he pulls back enough to hold himself up on one arm and pistons his hips into you, his cock twitching inside you.  One hand dipping between your legs to rub your puffy clit for a few more seconds is all it takes for you to lock your legs around him and grab onto him with a breathless cry of his name, clenching so hard it almost pushes him out. “Atsumu nii!” you whimper, string of mumbled swears being muffled as he kisses you and tangles his tongue with yours. 
“My good, little sister, yer perfect for me,” he grunts, pushing himself back up and grabbing hold of your hips to tilt them into him more for access. “Gonna cum, pretty girl. Take it all.” Sweat drips down his chest under his shirt before he groans, muscles clenching and his hands going a bit shaky with the effort put into his lazer focus on your creaming pussy.
The sight of you so fucked out and the way your walls still cling to him any time he pulls out, your tits bouncing with his rhythm, is enough to make him spill his hot cum into you with a last few thrusts. “Fuck -hng, fuckfuck— yer mine!” He lays down onto you and covers you entirely in his heat as he presses his lips back to yours for more slow, deep kisses that make you entirely spaced out.
Your brain blissed out and still trying to catch your breath, you let him kiss you for a few minutes, cock still inside you despite the overstimulation. But you couldn’t ask him to move if you tried. After a little bit of basking in each other’s warmth, he bites his lip to hold in a hiss. The door clicks, as he pushes himself up from you to slip out and sit back onto his heels, brushing his fingers along your cheek. The door swings open.
Your eyes widen as you look over. Samu’s face stays completely impassive for a few moments, before his darkening eyes flick between the two of you. The blond frowns as he scoops you up against him. “Well, would’ya look at that,” Samu clicks his tongue. Hurt and accusation meets understanding when Tsumu wraps his arms closer around you and rests his chin on your shoulder.
The affectionate sight makes Osamu’s nose scrunch, as he drops his bags of groceries and kicks off his shoes. And maybe he’d be right being so mad, if he hadn’t taken your body the exact same way too many times to count. “Ya said ya’d keep him away from what’s mine,” he hisses at you, but with your shaking bottom lip and arms wrapped around yourself for protection, most of his anger is shifted to Tsumu instead. ”And I thought I told you to keep yer fucking hands off’a her, brother.”
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iwaasfairy · 3 years
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Dhdjshs how do you feel about the Miya twins training how their new """pet""" aka kidnapped darling should great them when they get home
Also omg are you planning on writing more yandere fics soon? 👀
yes pretty soon i hope! i have an idea for a collab for a yandere type thingie but we'll have to see if it works out. thank you my love
tw yandere, kidnapping, manipulation, noncon/dubcon, kinda patronized/infantilized crybaby reader
The twins aren’t easy to please on their best days. But lately it’s been a drag day in and day out being around them when they’re so frustrated, and they always take it out on you in turn. It’s unfair, they always seem to ignore that, walking around the house barking orders. You almost wish you were brainwashed enough not to notice anymore.
You’re not in a position to complain though, you think, putting on the dress Atsumu picked out just for you. You don’t bother to play their games in the mornings, when they pick you out of bed and tell you to shower with them, let Osamu brush your teeth, let Atsumu give you your breakfast. Feed you.
It’s patronizing and infuriating and you hate it, but all in all, it's one of the lesser of all evils they put you though. Then come the hours of being alone. Hours of sitting, chained to the couch like a dog waiting for them to return, just in reach of the toilet, just in reach of the fridge. Always so lonely, and they’ve sure taught you to hate being lonely. They’ve had you for so long now that at times, that’s worse than anything else. Being without touch, without praise, without any support at all except for the baby monitor sat at the end of the cabinets that can ping Akaashi if something is wrong.
And all the times Akaashi has been by the house were times where you were flushed and embarrassed and splayed out for them all to look at anyway, so you never use it. You just sit and cry, curling your legs into your chest and wet your leg with your tears and snot. It’s not easy. But it’s still better than having to join Osamu to the store, holding his hand and pretending to smile, watching him glance up at you every few seconds. You hate that even more, since he always uses it as a way to fuck you until your legs go numb, and then Atsumu sees red when he gets back.
Those are bad days. When they get back with frowns and watch you in the kitchen, you always feel so miserable. What usually soothes them on their good days, is your death sentence on their bad ones. You kiss Atsumu first, pecking his lips softly and moving on to the other twin, who kisses you harder. He grabs your face to keep you against him, pulling you into his strong, warm body with a grunt. “Stop hoggin’er, Samu,” Atsumu snaps, barely any provocation needed, but it’s when Osamu flips him off and mirrors his glare that Hell breaks loose. “Yer a fuckin’ pig,”
“Look in the mirror, shit for brains,” Osamu yells back, letting go of you for a moment to stand up to the blond. As you watch it unfold before you, your emotions suddenly get too much for you. Thick tears well up as you step away from them two, getting as far as your chain allows you, hands shaky. “I saw ‘er first, yer lucky I even offered ta’ share!”
“And I got ‘er here, didn’t I? Ya would still be a pinin’ loser without ma help!”
As the shouting grows louder you sink in on yourself instinctively, kneeling, sobbing. It’s too much. After all the silence the last thing you can handle is their fighting. Your lip wobbles as you sniffle and cry, losing all control over the waterworks as you fist your hands into your dress. “Samu, Tsumu.” The cry is soft— tiny really— but the noise suddenly stops, as hands reach you. Warm hands rubbing along your cheek, petting your head, gliding up and down your arms. “Don’t fight,” you mumble when your face is urged into a messy kiss, clinging onto one twin as the other sighs.
“We won’t fight, baby doll, stop yer cryin’,” it’s Osamu, getting behind you on the floor to pull you into his lap, arms wrapping around your body tightly. Atsumu hums into your mouth at that, pulling back and wiping your tears away as he tutts his lips.
“Aw, we’re upsetting the poor thing.” He stands up with a sigh, before fiddling with his belt as Samu flips your skirt up and starts grabbing your ass, sliding his hands under easily and making you fluster. “Here, I’ll give ya somethin’ ta make ya feel better. Open up, sweet cheeks.”
He sounds so accomplished, shoving his boxers down with ease. Looking down at you so smug, the grin already pulling the corners of his lips up. But the worst part isn’t that he’s so quick to push his half-hard cock to your lips while Osamu grinds against you. It’s that despite all reason, you’re the one brushing away your sadness to sit and take it, and it feels right.
When the hell did you become their little lap dog? When the hell did you start liking it.
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iwaasfairy · 3 years
Note
a lil foxgirl for inarizaki 🥺🥺 always willing to help out the team, even if she’s a bit of a troublemaker <3
listen .... having a little foxgirl as the former cheerleader for inako is (﹡ᵗ ᵔ ᵗ ﹡) so fucking cute!!! they’d all dote on her so much but also be the perfect people to put her in her place (also i just found oUT LITTLE FOXES ARE CALLED KITS oR CUBS!!! IM!!! SO DEVESTATED THATS THE CUTEST SHIT EVER)
tw gangbang, spit, petplay (? just a baby bit it’s more a personality type)
You’re held by your arms, mouth open and drool dripping down your tongue in a lewd string onto the floor as tsumu pulls his fingers from your throat to slip them into his own mouth. “Yer such a pretty cub. Even when she’s nasty enough to walk around with cum dripping outta her. dont’cha think, Samu?” ‘Mhm,’ Osamu simply responds, too busy toying with your tits and sucking them as you remain in place.
Not like you want to, but Aran’s grip is very sturdy on your hips. Before you can even let out some kind of disagreement or talk back, a tall frame blocks your view. Suna narrows his eyes at you and your open mouth, before a curl comes to his lips. “You’re still full of Kita-san’s cum and still needy for more, yeah?” You shiver when he trails his thumb over your bottom lip and over your pointy teeth. “Watch yourself this time, or I won’t be as nice.”
Then he’s taking out his hard cock and placing it on your awaiting tongue, as the fingers toying with your slick hole grow impatient. And the sucking and soft, teasing bites of your tits by Osamu and Akagi under you, along with the soft brushes of Kita on your lower back all soon start to feel like too much. “Can someone just fuck me already, or are you all just going to look?”
The snort Aran makes is the only sound for just a few seconds, before you can feel a fat cock slapping against your wet hole right when Rintaro pushes into your mouth and your eyes flutter closed, his long fingers tangling into your hair and pulling you down on his cock immediately, grunting. “Fucking brat.”
You groan around him when the cock pushes further into you, stretching you open as someone’s fingers come to toy at your puffy clit. And you try to keep quiet but it’s impossible to with so much stimulating, letting Suna push further into your throat and the person -or people- behind you enjoy their share. And a soft voice hums. “Someone else take her other hole, our kit’s clearly got a bit too much bite still.”
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iwaasfairy · 3 years
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anon said: Niichan Osamu + The best
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The best
tw incest
You don’t notice it. You tell yourself that you don’t notice it, you just can’t, the way your brothers differ. Because if you start thinking of how they differ, you’ll pick a favourite and that’s unfair to the both of them. But it’s so hard not to, when they seem determined to rub in your face how different they are at every turn. Samu isn’t much of a touchy person with everyone, but he is with you. It’s not something you ever thought about, until Atsumu suddenly complained one day that Samu’s ‘always fucking hoggin’ ‘er’, and after that it became pretty clear pretty quick.
But it’s also not a bother, because where Atsumu shows his love by coming home with loud announcements and the stuff he got you in gift shops in different gyms, Osamu shows his love with touch.
You expect nothing less than a big kiss when he visits for the weekends, pulling you into a hug and whispering into your ear. You’ve long grown used to the way his eyes seem to glow when you tell him he seems even bigger, or tease him about being the clingier brother after all. You see him more often than you get to see Tsumu, spend more time with him. Sometimes he sits on our bed with your head resting in his lap while you talk, and it often ends with him urging you up into his lap, keeping your chest pressed to his and your cheeks and neck full of kisses.
But one thing you do know is different about the two of them, is that Tsumu never looks hungry when you’re in that spot. Osamu definitely does. And sometimes when he invites you for a movie night, just you two, you don’t miss how he cuddles up and tangles his legs with yours, pushing his hips into you.
You can’t avoid it, breathing speeding up at the distinct press between your legs. You don’t miss the groan he lets out under his breath when you experimentally shift a bit closer, needing some kind of friction for your poor, gushing pussy. “Hm, yer wigglin’,” he whispers then, grabbing your hips with strong fingers and pulling you closer. But when you grow quiet, already having several apologies on your tongue, he rests his lips on your neck, humming. “Don’t stop.”
You don’t know how or why it changes, only that Osamu is always above you now. At night, in the mornings, with his face between your legs and moaning like a man starved when sucking on your clit, when pushing his fingers inside or when laying on top of you with his huge, muscular body and rocking the drooling tip of his cock against your pussy. “Who’s makin’ ya feel like this?” he breathes, pulling back to watch your face, your hot cheeks and spread lips. “Tell me.”
“Niichan is.”
“Which one?” he growls, louder now, pressing his nose to your throat to suck another mark there. He never cares that he leaves big planes of splotches all over. He loves it.
“Samu nii!” And he doesn’t say it, but you can tell with the way his thrusts get deeper, more precise. Made to make you cry for his cock. He knows which one of the two you prefer when they come home, as you should.
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iwaasfairy · 3 years
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anon said: Step daddy osamu + powerful gazes
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Powerful gazes
tw noncon, stepcest, drugging, somno
It’s always so terrifying when you end up this way. Tied up, bruised, tears rolling down your cheeks and struggling against the zip ties around your wrists. Drowsy, limbs so heavy and everything in your head sluggish, making it hard to even take a breath through your sobbing. Sweat pooling under your tits and having them kneaded in strong, rough hands. His body is overtop of you, inside you, it always is in these moments, pushing inside you with a harsh grunt that only adds to the pounding between your ears. But you’ve had this dream enough times to know that you’ll wake up in the morning and everything will be okay.
When you tell your mom, she’s skeptical. After all, you did leave out some crucial parts about your nightmare to spare her, to spare yourself from judgement. To spare him too. You just told her there was a man hovering over you in it, instead of the more accurate truth that you were split open on his fat cock until your insides felt bruised and you’d cum twice despite crying through it all. You told her it was something else, something bad that was hurting you in your nightmare, and she’d held you close and told you that everything was alright. You’re big enough not to let nightmares get to you anymore, right?
After the second, third, tenth time she gets worried. Gets you to see a doctor for insomnia, maybe a therapist too. From the sessions you do get, the woman tells you it is most likely abandonment issues because of your father, your brain trying to process such a traumatic event at such an early age. You don’t question it. It’s all just a nightmare anyway. Just a dream. It’s not like you’re not suspicious, you’re not stupid. You come home and meet those big, grey eyes, and part of your brain knows exactly which face you’re missing out on each night.
But you’re always so tired, so limp and useless that you can’t even open your eyes, let alone move away. But it’s just a nightmare— until the finger shaped bruises around your throat one morning don’t scrub away no matter how hard you try. When your sweaty body isn’t unaware, feeling the distinct pressure of something having been inside you, tearing you up where it shouldn’t have, where no one should have been. You panic. Your mom’s off to work. So you stumble down the stairs into daddy’s office.
Useless, pathetic, crying your eyes out as you sob his name. “Please help me, daddy, I think someone’s-” You don’t make it very far into your sentence before you realize your mistake. Before he stands from his chair and lifts your arms to take you into a hug, feeling so familiar. Too much so. You try to pull back, but his hold tightens.
“Shhh, s’okay.” Voice low as he pets your hair, and you pull back harder. But he’s got you in such a tight hug, barely a mimic of real intimacy. “Yer not gonna tell anyone anythin’ again. Yer a good girl for daddy, hm?” He pulls back to watch your glistening eyes, before dipping down and pressing a kiss on your lips. One you pull away from too late, but his eyes narrow anyway.
“Don’t make me hurt you, baby.”
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iwaasfairy · 3 years
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anon said: cousins!miya bros + last chance
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Last chance
tw noncon, incest, semi-public
Osamu is the reasonable one, you like to think, as you’re dragged behind him with his long fingers wrapped around your small wrist. He was the one standing up for you when Tsumu would get fed up and throw a fit as kids. And he’d egg him on for sure, but at least the tension wasn’t directed to you. You grandmother’s house barely knew rest with those two constantly demanding your attention. Osamu is safer, most of the time, but he’s also much harder to read. “Where are we going, Samu?” you pout, “I’m going to miss my train if you don’t hurry up.”
His grey eyes meet yours as he turns over his shoulder, but then he’s already leading you down the stairs, further and further away. “C’mon, Tsumu begged ya. Ya can’t leave ‘im hangin’.” You pass other passengers, hauling your suitcase behind with a sigh. If you miss your train you’ll never forgive the blond, even if he is family. Hell, you’ll never forgive Osamu either, just for going along with it.
“Why can’t you just tell me?” you try again, but then he stops walking and shoves open a staff door, letting you in. You barely make it a few steps inside before you’re pushed, tripping. “Aw, what the hell, Samu!”
“Yeah, Samu,” another voice pipes up, “gotta be careful.” Atsumu is standing cross-armed, while the heavy door drops closed behind you and leaves the three of you in the pitch black. You shuffle back, but you can feel Osamu towering over you from your spot on the floor.
The tiles are cold, much like your mood now. Your eyes adjust to the dark enough to show Tsumu closing in on you, dropping into a squat to tilt his head. He smiles. Even in the lack of light, it’s too bright, too— wide. It’s angry and vicious, and you suddenly feel too small between your two cousins.
“Guys, what are-” you start, pushing yourself from your butt, only to have Osamu’s hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place.
“Yanno, it’s strange,” Atsumu cuts in, fiddling with his belt. The clicks of the metal and your strained breath is the only sound for a moment. “Yer no liar, yet—”
“Ya weren’t gonna go tellin’ us yer leavin’?” Osamu’s grip gets tighter as Atsumu pulls out his belt, grabbing onto your chin with his free hand. And he slides the belt around your neck, when you start struggling against them. You kick at his leg, but Samu is quick to wrap his long arms around you and keep you in place, and Atsumu darts forward with a feral grin on his lips, yanking you closer.
“Stop, let go,” you whisper, eyes going wide when Tsumu crawls close and pins you in place against Samu, who whispers soft praises into your skin, but you’re more focused on the other twin. He pulls the belt tight, hovers his mouth over yours.
“S’yer fault for makin’ us do this.” He grabs hold of your hands with one of his, and grips them so tight it hurts. “Samu, hurry yer ass.” Osamu lets you go, zipping down and shuffling closer to you. He grabs a fistfull of hair when you open your mouth again and yanks back so you’re forced to rest your head on his shoulder.
“She’s missing ‘er train anyway, Tsumu. Take yer time.”
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iwaasfairy · 3 years
Note
idk if ur still taking emergency reqs but my last final is tomorrow morning and I’m extremely stressed and just want sumu and samu nii to tell me they’ll take care of me if I don’t want to finish school because they take care of their princess🥺
First off, don’t stress baby. You can do this. All the information is in your pretty brain up there somewhere al you gotta do is take a deep breath and let it come out. Drink some water, go over your notes again if you can, you will do well 💗💘💕 I know you will
tw implied incest, comfort though
“I can’t do it anymore,” you push out from your chair, not even wanting to look at the textbooks again. The wind is chilly as it passes through the thin sliver you cracked your window on, making your skin tingle. But it’s the look Samu sends you over his shoulder that has you just a bit more chilled, as he takes his attention away from Tsumu playing his game.
“Tired?” he asks, motioning you over to come sit with him. You do so, letting out a deep sigh as he pulls you into his lap to sit on his thighs, watching out for any signs that you’re pushing yourself. It’s something he’s gotten pretty good at babysitting Tsumu like he does.
“Just fed up,” you sigh, and he hums. He has a moment to let you just breathe, before he shrugs off his sweater and hands it to you, smiling.
“Watch Tsumu lose with me for a while then. Ya need to relax a little.”
You put the thick fabric over your face and breathe in his scent as you put it on, only the faintest hint of cologne left. The rest is all him, it makes you all warm inside. When you’re done Samu pulls you to his chest for a tight hug, before you hear a snap and a little scuffle as he manages to grab Atsumu’s cap so he can brush back your hair and put it on you too, making you feel entirely hidden. Then he tugs you back to him to rest his head on your shoulder, as Tsumu pauses the game.
“Finally yer gonna spend some time with us,” he mumbles from behind you, putting down the controller to run his hands up and down your sides a few times, then pushing his forehead between your shoulders. “That felt like forever.”
“I have to study and do well,” you only say back, to which both brothers make similar noises of disapproval. Tsumu slips his hands under the sweater and your shirt to rub gentle circles into your skin before he shakes his head.
“We’re always gonna take care of ya no matter what ya do, ya’know that right? It’s us against the world.” And Samu leans down to kiss your lips until a warmth starts to form between the three of you, lingering between you as you let them praise you and litter you is kisses.
“We’ll always be there for ya,” Samu nods, pulling you a bit closer on his lap. “No matter what ya do good or bad or right or wrong.”
“Ya belong to yer niichans.”
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