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queenof-curses · 6 months

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Owned

Miya Twins x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Miya twins have been watching and waiting. What happens when they finally catch you alone in the gym after practice?

Tags: Minors DNI! Explicit in all ways. D-P. Dub con. Yandere themes. Obsessive personalities. Ownership. Str8 up smut. No plot really. Mind break. Overstimulation. Please read tags! Fic located under the cut.

w.c.-2.1K

Masterlist

“So fucking pretty for us- isn’t she samu?”

“God- sh- she’s so tight…” the gray haired twin moaned.

You couldn’t give anything more than a soft whimper as you got lost in your own pleasures.

“That’s right baby- your ass is so fucking tight.” The blonde said.

You were smashed between the two brothers, with Osamu under you. He was currently buried to the hilt in your cunt, relishing the feeling of your warm walls gushing around him as you squeezed his cock tight. He softly thrusted upwards, languidly fucking into you from below as the more feral of the two brothers took control from behind.

Atsumu had you bent over his brother, holding your hands against your lower back with just one of his own. The other was holding your jaw- two fingers hooked into your mouth as he gagged you on his digits like a fishhook. He was always the rougher of the two, and he couldn't help himself as he used your body as his own personal toy.

Not able to get more than your own moans out, you were stuck in the position as the brothers ravished you. Atsumu buried himself into your ass, you could feel the way the thin layer between your ass and cunt stretched as the twins filled you with their cocks.

You felt so lost…yet so- full.

- -

It was just a moment ago you finished up your own volleyball practice, your last college season coming to a close soon. Emerging from the locker room, you noticed the twins cleaning up the gym. You offered your help, since it was shared space between the boys and girls team- but little did you know that you’d end up caught in the Miya’s trap.

At first it was a harmless conversation between the three of you- them inquiring about your intense practice schedule compared to their own. Soon the conversation turned into banter. Atsumu teased you about your love life- how volleyball was your entire life and left your boyfriend high and dry. You were quick to remind them that you didn’t have a boyfriend, that you hadn’t for a year or so now.

Of course they knew you didn’t have a boyfriend- it’s the answer they were looking for as Osamu moved in for the kill. Offering to rub your shoulders after noticing how tense you were after folding the net up.

In the end, you let them have their way with you. Giving in to their temptations as the siren twins lured you into their trap; slowly removing your clothes for a “deeper massage.” At that point you were undone; and when Atsumu leaned in for a kiss, you found that your previous hesitations flew out the window and you ultimately ended up opening your body to the brothers.

- -

“We’ve been waiting for this, baby… you were made just for us, ya know? …we’re never giving you up now.” Atsumu tells you from behind.

Each delicious drag of their cocks against your most sensitive parts sent you into overdrive. You were a mess between them. Osamu kept his eyes locked on yours, the deep pools of grey staring into your own as tears of pleasure blurred your vision.

“You’re doing so well for us, such a good girl,” he tells you as his hands take control of your hips. The tip of his swollen cock teases your womb, fucking up into you from below at a set pace. His grip was tight, no doubt leaving bruises as a reminder of their capabilities.

“Oh god, Samu- Please!” You beg.

“Shhhh, sweet girl, you’ll get your fill.” he hushes you. He drags your hips up and down his cock, your clit grinding into his pelvis and sending your mind reeling with every thrust.

Osamu feels you tighten around him, the clench of your tight heat being his undoing as he tilts his hips slightly. The action causes you to see stars as he pounds up into your g spot.

“Oh-fuck!” you scream, lost in ecstasy. You grip his shoulders, digging your nails into his chiseled arms as he rips your orgasm from you.

“That’s it Princess, cum for us- show us how good we make you feel,” Atsumu says from behind. He feels your asshole clamp down as you begin to finish around both their cocks.

Your vision goes white as you scream, coating Osamu’s cock in your finish. He takes the opportunity to bring your mouth to his. Warm lips take in your cries as his tongue plays with your own, swallowing each whimper and moan that left your being. Wet sounds filled the gymnasium as the three of you danced in bliss. After a moment you go limp in Osamu’s arms, having no choice but to take what the two gave you- an onslaught of pure ecstasy.

Osamu needed no further push as he planted his feet on the mats below your bodies. Gripping your hips tight, he thrusted up into your heat, sending shivers down your fucked-out body as he slammed into your cunt from down under.

“Shit-I’m close, this pussys just too fucking good. Want my cum, babe? Yeah- you fucking do, gonna bury my fucking cock deep in this pussy.” He tells you, words fumbled as he loses himself in your tight grip.

Atsumu lets his twin take the reins as he relishes the way your ass takes hold of his shaft- using the opportunity to admire the way the fat of your behind bounces with each thrust of his hips. The blonde was mesmerized by the way your body took his length, all the way down to the hilt as his balls slapped against the bit of skin separating his current territory from his brothers. He feels close to cumming himself, but he holds back- wanting to finish in your cunt just like his twin. The thought of him and brother’s cum mixed inside you made him groan.

They wanted to own you completely; tired of waiting on the sidelines for you to notice one of them, Atsumu was glad they took the risk today to try and catch you alone in the gym. It had been well worth the wait.

“Fuck, I’m- I’m cuming!” Osamu moans, pulling Atsumu from his dark mind.

You feel the heat of it before you register what was happening. Your mind is clouded in a lustful haze as you realize the gray haired twin was cumming inside of you, filling your deepest parts with his hot seed as he slowly thrusted his finish into your womb.

“O-Osamu,” you whimper, the sensitivity of your flesh high as his shaft begins to soften inside of you. He takes a moment to relish in your warmth before pulling out of your soaked hole, knowing his twin was eager for his turn.

“Shhh baby, you’re such a good girl…” he’s sure to comfort you, hearing your whimpers and soft cries- he knows how sensitive you are.

You cry out at his praise, relishing the way he reaches to caress your hair as the blonde twin slowly pulls out of your other abused hole.

Feeling Atsumu lift himself from your body, Osamu helps maneuver you. You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but the twins treated you as if you were made of porcelain. Carefully, Osamu sits up and moves you to lay on top of his body. With your back to his front, you were now facing the blonde twin.

Resting with your full weight on Osamu, you feel his strong hands grip behind your knees and pull your legs up. You were practically seated in his lap with nowhere to go. He opens your core up towards his brother, who sits between your thighs and admires the way his twin’s cum drips out of your pussy.

You look down and realize how hard Astumu still was… his angry red tip leaking precum as you admired the veins that dance down his long shaft. He spares no second thought as he positions himself at your opening, pumping his fist up and down his shaft in anticipation.

Slowly, the blonde feeds his cock into your wet cunt. With yours and Osamu’s juices acting as lubricant, Atsumu was quick to resume the pace he had set on your ass- chasing after his own orgasm.

He buries himself balls deep inside of you immediately- the tip of his cock slamming the exact same spot his twin brother’s did moments ago.

You thrash in Osamu’s grip, another orgasm creeping up fast as his strength holds you in place to his sibling’s harsh thrusts. He holds you open for him, the blonde taking no more hesitation to bring his thumb up to your swollen clit. He fondles it slowly, the bundle of nerves pulsing and bringing a coil of heat to the pit of your stomach.

“I- I’m cuming, oh god!” you cry out to them, not able to hold the pressure any longer.

Your words make Astumu smirk, the blonde proud to see you break so quickly under his grasp.

The action on your clit was your ultimate undoing, you feel yourself clamp down on his member, a field of white flowing into your vision as you wet yourself and both brothers. You squirt hard, screaming in Osamu’s grip as you coat Atsumu’s cock with yourself.

Atsumu watches as you juices cover himself and Osamu, absolutely hypnotized by both the image and feeling of you wrapped around him. It was messy… nasty even- and he couldn’t get enough of you.

“Fuck- that was so hot Princess, I’m close- you’re too fucking tight, ya know?” He tells you as he picks up the pace of his movements.

Osamu whispers praise into your ear, telling you what a good girl you are, that this is how you deserve to be taken- like this each and every day.

“From now on, you belong to us- Okay, Princess? Me n’ samu are gonna make sure you’re all taken care of from now on…” he tells you, voice ruff as he nibbles on your earlobe.

You moan in response as Atsumu gives a final thrust into your cunt, burying himself just as deep as his twin did moments ago. Emptying himself into you, he pulses his hips, ensuring his cum sticks to your deepest parts. If you got pregnant, he wanted to ensure it’d be his seed over his twin brothers.

He plugs you with his cock, keeping himself seated for a few moments as he relishes the way your warm cunt pulses around his shaft. He feels his balls tighten up against your opening, now empty and content.

“Oh fuuuuuuck,” Atsumu groans, finally removing his semi-hard cock. He admired how soaked he was, with not only his and your juices, but Osamu’s as well.

It was a sight to behold as he watched his brother release your legs from his tight grip, moving to a seated position with you upright and between his legs. Your knees fall apart, and Astumu catches the way your glistening cunt starts to leak the cum that was just buried deep inside of you.

“Ah ah ah- not on my watch,” he teases you and moves between your thighs.

The blonde twin reaches down, taking a swipe of cum and fingering it back inside of your cunt.

“Oh God, Sumu… it's too sensitive,” you cry out, attempting to move away. Osamu was quick though, holding you between the two of them with stern hands.

Your words don’t stop Atsumu’s actions though, and soon after it’s Osamu reaching from behind you to rub your little clit as his brother finger fucks you. It was embarrassing the way your pussy gushed; you were soaked and still wanted more... You could feel your cheeks heat at your compromised position, attempting to hide behind your hands.

Tears fill your eyes as you and Atsumu look at each other through the space of your fingers. He knew you wanted more- that you could handle both of them with whatever they gave you. This was their plan after all.

“This is how it’s gonna be, Princess. From now on…” Osamu whispers into your ear.

“You like one of us, you have to accept both of us. We’ll make you feel double good, baby”

Thanks for reading! :) Comments/Reblogs/Likes are all appreciated.

#miya twins x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu #miya atsumu #queenofcursesfanfic #haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu #Yandere miya twins #miya twins #haikyuu #osamu x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader x atsumu #haikyuu x you

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yandere-sins · 1 month

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Hello, about your miya twin series, who would be the most dangerous and scary twin to deal with? Who would physically punish their darling if she misbehaved? What would a punishment scenario for both of them be like?

Good questions!

From a mental standpoint, I'd say Atsumu is the scarier twin.

He is somewhat laid-back, which would make you think he really isn't that bad, but in what he does, he is unpredictable. You'd think all he really wants is to hang out with his darling, watch movies, share snacks, cuddle, and fool around, but his mood regularly just... snaps. And suddenly, he is violently horny or in the mood to throw you around like a ragdoll. You learn to see the small signs like him grabbing you a little too tight or his eyes just turning ever so slightly darker as you two have a stare-off. But in the end, you can never be too sure when he either has enough of you or wants you more than ever. Atsumu leaves almost all the bruises on your body, is careless enough that you might break a bone if you resist him, and gives you trauma for days that will make you want to avoid him. But you shouldn't. Never deny him what he wants, or you'll suffer even more.

So Osamu is the more dangerous twin.

Osamu has his rules. His routine and how he wants things to be done. Much like his brother, he's not shy about putting you in your place. Still, while Atsumu is physical, Osamu is much more psychological in his abuse. He'll take your food from you if he feels like you don't appreciate it enough. He'll waterboard you in the bathtub if you dare to lock him out. He decides if you get to sleep on the bed between them or if you earned yourself a cold night on the floor. He gives you medicine. He gets you the essentials you need. If he says no clothes, then none of them will let you wear anything for however long Osamu decides. You might fear Atsumu's outbursts, but unless you are in good graces with Osamu, you fear upsetting him at all times and getting punished out of the blue—and most of the time, it's not even your fault. Osamu also gets mad at Atsumu (more than the other way around), and you are taking the fall for it.

Both of them might reason with the other if it benefits them, but you'll never be able to play them against each other. Unless you crave punishment, that is. However, who is the scarier and who is the more dangerous twin might also change daily. You are never safe ;)

Atsumu's punishments are more that he forces you to do something you don't want to do, like humor him once he gets home. He'll force you into a kiss if you don't come up to him and peck him on the cheek and, likewise, will cage you under him on the couch if you refuse to cuddle and watch a movie with him. He's not above forcing himself on you if you refuse his advances, and he doesn't really take care of you unless you are being extra nice to him. He'll cook if Osamu is out, but only if you tell him sweetly that you're hungry and let him coo over you and rub your belly. And then all he pulls from the cupboards is cup ramen.

Strangely enough, Osamu does the same, just differently and on a bigger scale than Atsumu's. Oh, so you don't want to welcome him? Well, no food for you. It's in the fridge, but if you go and get it, he'll put you through hell. Atsumu kept you from coming to him? Too bad. He's asking you to come and warm yourself up because it's cold, but you ignore him? No warm clothes are for you; look how you'll survive the night. It's bathtime, but you locked yourself into the bath alone? Someone doesn't want the privacy of a door or to be in the bathroom alone ever again.

For both, it's about making your life inconvenient unless you do exactly what they want. Which can be, as mentioned before, difficult because they change their minds like they change underwear. But being affectionate and inviting is always the right thing to do; it just really sucks when they'll eagerly take you up on any of your offers, rarely refusing even if you change your mind fast.

Hope that answered your questions! Thanks for asking!! I love the two of them so much ♥♥♥

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loeyslover · 5 months

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mind games

warnings: mental health problems, self harm, suicidal tendencies, unhealthy coping mechanisms, delusions, yandere behavior, obsession, psychological manipulation

mind games - sickick

growing up you knew your calling in life was to help people, to put the pieces of ones' broken fragments back together to fit what they used to be. you made the perfect fit for psychiatry, your heart finally finding where it would be useful once you were placed to work at the psychiatric ward.

trained to be stoic and indomitable in the field to avoid unhealthy attachment to patients, you thought you'd have no difficulty doing what your job required you to do; to hear what your patient was enduring mentally and prescribe the medication to unfocus the unhealthy thoughts. but you never once thought all that training would go out the window when you met him.

osamu miya, the deranged and psychotic, yet somehow charming male you'd been assigned. you'd spent hours listening to his thoughts and feelings finding them complex and thinking they needed to be deciphered, and maybe that way you could cure him. do what you were trained to do and stop the voices from plaguing his head, but somewhere along the way you succumbed.

you'd heard the stories, the way he'd scare off nurses and doctors, all whom had the same intentions you did. yet somehow you were different, you stood out amongst all personnel whom'd treated him. you made him feel a sense of peace in the grotesque place he'd reside in.

"again, samu?," you questioned, eyes landing on the fresh slices on the white skin of his forearms. "you've got to stop doing this, one of these days you'll slice too deep and never come back," you said, approaching his form with a first aid kid in hand to bandage his wounds.

the habit of his to slice through the flesh on his arms left scars littered all over the pale skin and left you with no choice but to come bandage him up each time it happened. he replied with the same answer each time you asked him about it, "the voices made him do it", they scattered whispers in his mind about the need to mutilate his own body to feel relief, to find escape from the hauntings in his mind.

but osamu had ulterior motives to hurt himself, he did it to feel the soft skin of your fingertips graze against his to heal him. to feel you kiss his scars and ask him to stop what he was doing. he'd never once felt so cared for and seen, so desired and loved for, but you awakened this inside him. the need to keep you all to himself, to seclude you away from the dangers of the world.

"i''d never go too deep darling," his orbs look into yours as you wrap sterile gauze around his cuts, "i don't know what exists after death, but i sure as hell know you're not there". your cheeks redden into a deep crimson shade, "then quit it, you're driving me crazy with worry every time you do this".

"i'm serious samu," you frown, "i'd hate to lose the patient i've done the most for, and i do it because i see through your facade, I know there's a good person deep inside of you".

"there's another side that you don't know," his voice deepens, his wrists wrapping around your own, a tight lock keeping you immobile. "I can't wait to get you all alone," a smirk spreading across his face as the fear pooled in your eyes, "watch me turn your mind into my home".

#yandere haikyuu #yandere osamu #miya osamu #miya twins #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #tw yandere #tw manipulation #yandere osamu x reader #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu Drabble #osamu x reader

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ramhaiba · 8 days

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𝖯𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖠𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗎 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old (and incomplete...) stories! the original

chapter contains: blackmail, kita x reader (side) series contains: college au, sexual themes, violence, kidnapping, tea

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You hated Atsumu Miya since your freshman year of high school. You don’t think you can name one good thing about him. From his annoying voice to his stuck-up personality, you hated it all.

It wasn’t like he was your biggest fan either- you still remember his dramatic reaction when he found out you’d be going to the same college as him.

To quote him,

“Jesus Christ- you obsessed with me or something? Gotta follow me all the way to college too”

You can barely believe that you used to be his friend before high school, sharing some of your best childhood memories with the former nice boy.

Now, he’s just a scumbag who likes to go out of his way to make you miserable.

But yesterday, was the last straw…

Everyone knew you had a crush on Kita…well- everyone but Kita.

And Valentine's Day was the day you were gonna man up and finally make a move. You spent all night making chocolates for him…which turned out well- it was edible at least!

You knew that there was a big possibility that you’d mess up on your words if you verbally tried to confess to him, that’s why you settled for a love letter. You spent hours trying to write that one-page letter. There are at least twenty crumbled-up failed attempts of you trying to write a love letter. However, you settle for the best one, keeping it safely in your pocket.

Unfortunately, on the day of Valentine's Day- you had a class with Atsumu Miya. At least you also shared that class with a good friend of yours- Usagi.

You loved that girl but she was one of the girls who fanned over Atsumu. She probably gave one of the hundred Valentine’s chocolates that lay on Atsumu’s desk.

You walked over to your desk, trying to ignore Atsumu’s bragging about all the love letters he’s received. You settle the chocolates that you made for Kita on your desk, praying that they won’t melt before you give them to him.

“Holy shit what’s that?” Atsumu asked, voice annoying as always, propping his hands on your desk, and leaning over.

“None of your business” you responded, trying to move the chocolates away from him.

“She’s going confess to Kita!” Usagi spoke up, the chance to talk to Atsumu being too exciting for her to remain quiet.

“Usagi!” you yelled, turning your head to look at the embarrassed girl. “S-sorry it just came out” she mumbled.

Your attention fell back to Atsumu as you heard him laugh.

“Oh man- I feel so bad for Kita, he’s going to have the ugliest girl on campus confess to him? Talk about social embarrassment am I right?” Atsumu teased, wiping away a tear from laughter.

“Fuck off for once, Atsumu” you scoffed. Atsumu paused his laughter, eyes narrowing as he looked at your pockets. “What you got in there?” he questioned.

“Nothing that concerns you” you replied, shoving your hands into your pockets, probably crumbling the love letter.

“Well good luck on your little confession, Y/n. You’re gonna need it” Atsumu commented, a sinister smile on his lips as he walked away.

God- what was he planning?

---

During lunch, you were walking to your usual table, holding your tray of food in your hand. Just in a few hours, you’ll be confessing to Kita and god you’re nervous. You keep repeating the same phrase in your head,

The worst thing that can happen is that he says no.

The worst thing that can happen is that he sa-

Suddenly, you felt a strong force bump into you, almost everything that was peacefully lying on your tray spilling onto your shirt, hissing in the uncomfortable feeling of your drink drenching your shirt. You looked up to see that Atsumu was the one responsible for the mess.

“Asshole, watch where you’re going” you huffed, trying to wipe away the food on your shirt.

“Wow, I am just so sorry, Y/n” Atsumu commented, giving you a passive-aggressive smile as he tried to help you clean off your shirt.

“God- I hate you” you replied, slapping his hand away as you stormed away.

Thank god, your dorm wasn’t too far away- however, you did miss your next class because of your sudden need to change your shirt and shower.

----

The clock struck three- it was finally volleyball practice..AKA the time that you’d be confessing your feelings. You stood in front of the gymnasium, chocolates in one hand, the other reaching into your pocket for the letter

Wh-where is it?

You panicked feeling your empty pocket. Then you heard Atsumu’s voice in the gymnasium, causing you to slowly open the door, and take a peak.

“Kita, I’m not sure where to start with this letter. There are just so many things I feel for you. Every time I learn more about you- you just manage to make me fall deeper for you. I just get so nervous when I’m around you but excited at the same time. Is this what love is? And I really hope somewhere in your heart you-

Jesus Christ! this is the comedic goal” Atsumu burst into laughter, holding a letter in his hand that he seemed to be reciting. You felt your heart stop, your blood going cold as you listened to all the laughter in the gym.

Everyone was laughing at you stupid- stupid letter, well...everyone but Kita.

“Who wrote the letter?” you heard Suna asked Atsumu.

Atsumu looked around the gym, finally making eye contact with you through the gap between the door,

“Oh, don’t worry ‘bout that, it’s ain't anyone important” Atsumu responded, a smile across his face as he crumbled the paper before throwing it into a trash can.

----

You ran- you ran all the way back to your dorm room, the tears in your eyes making it hard to see as you crashed on your bed, cursing out Atsumu through the pillow shoved in your face.

The chocolates you made for Kita were crushed and thrown out in your trash can.

It wasn’t long til your sadness morphed into fiery unstoppable rage.

You needed revenge- so you came up with the perfect plan.

Unlike most students on campus, Atsumu and Osamu lived in a house nearby- god they were lucky to have rich parents.

You showed up in front of their house night- it was so late at night that the whole neighborhood was silent. In your hands was a crowbar-

You thought to yourself, holy fuck this is crazy. But you were so fucking exhausted from all the harassment Atsumu has given to you for years. You had to do this. So you sneaked into their garage, prying it open with a crowbar.

You knew there was only one thing that Atsumu loved almost as much as he loved himself.

That damn stupid orange car he got for his birthday.

You remember the countless times when he would drive that expensive car around your house his deafening trashy music blasting from his car. The painful memories of the gas from his car would blow into your face and give you a nasty cough.

You shoved your hands into your pockets, taking out your silver key to your dorm room.

You hovered your key in front of the door of his car, hands shaking.

“Fuck it” you mumbled, dragging your key across the orange vehicle, leaving a white line on the paint.

It made your anger and sadness disappear…for a second.

You were painting his car with the scratches done by your trustworthy key for at least ten minutes, getting lost in high of your revenge.

The sound of footsteps descending downstairs interrupted your high, causing you to dash out of the garage, slamming the door behind you, hiding behind a tree as you heard

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY BABY"

Atsumu’s response causes you to laugh back home. Who cares about forgiveness? Revenge is truly the best feeling in the world.

---

You were discussing yesterday’s event with Usagi- you told her almost everything besides… your very illegal form of revenge.

“My beloved, Atsumu did what?” she cried in disbelief. “You mean that monster, Atsumu?” you corrected her.

“I’m sorry that happened, are you okay?” she asked. “Oh, I am “ you replied, smiling while thinking of the event from last night.

“Y/n.”

You turned your head, expecting Atsumu who came to annoy you…instead, it was Kita. “I’m sorry if you’re busy but may I talk to you for a moment?” Kita politely asked. You glanced back at an eager Usagi who was waving you off to shut up and go with him.

“Y-yeah, sure” you replied to Kita.

Kita held your hand as he led you to a more secluded part of campus, unaware that you were screaming in your head at the gesture.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” you asked, praying to god he didn’t find out it was you to write that embarrassing letter.

“Well, I didn’t see you yesterday. So I didn’t have the opportunity to give you this” Kita responded, opening his bookbag, gently taking out a piece of chocolate wrapped in a pink transparent bag.

I-is this what you think it is? Is this a confessio-

“Y/n, I wanted to tell you that-”Kita said, snapping you out of your flustered thoughts.

“Oh, Y/n, I found you!” Atsumu sang, waving his hand as he ran up to you. You cringed at the feeling of Atsumu wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Kita, I need to steal sweet Y/n for a moment. It’s important” Atsumu confessed.

“If it’s important then I suppose it’d be selfish for me to say no” Kita responded. “Great, she will be back in a flash” Atsumu beamed, tugging you away to a different section of campus.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Couldn’t you see I was busy” you huffed.

“There is nothing more important than spending time with me” Atsumu replied. “You’re such a narcissist” you insulted.

“And you, sweetheart, are a car wrecker,” Atsumu remarked, stepping closer to you with every word, arms crossed to emphasize his biceps.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about” You laughed in disbelief, trying to act dumb.

“Ain’t I the luckiest man in the world to have security cameras?” Atsumu confessed, a smile on his lips as he waved his phone, a video of you committing the crime on the screen.

Fuck-fuck- Fuck you’re so screwed. You’re going to get charged with trespassing and Destruction of property. You’re so going to get kicked out of school.

“W-why haven’t you shown this to the police already” you stuttered, voice cracking, hands shaking at your side.

“I wanted to give ya a better option” Atsumu hummed. “What are you trying to say” you replied.

“You’re going to be my sweet girlfriend for a month”

“What? You’re not serious. You hate me like I hate you” you scoffed in disbelief. “Are you going to question me or be a smart girl and take what I’m offering?” Atsumu uttered, leaning over to your ear, his breath heating your neck.

“Only for a month?” you repeated, hands forming a fist to your side, sucking up your pride.

“Only for a month” Atsumu confirmed, pulling away to show you his smile. “Fine” you huffed.

---

You walked back to Kita, still shaken up from what had just occurred. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worried” Kita questioned, reaching over to hold your hand in his.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You wanted to tell me something?” you laughed away his concerns. Kita adverted his eyes, a faint red appearing on his cheeks as his lips turned into a subtle smile,

“I just wanted to know if you had feelings for me…because I admire you. I want to be with you. If you’ll allow me to” Kita confesses, finally having the courage to look back at you.

You couldn’t believe it, your heart was about to bounce out of your chest until you saw the demon- Atsumu Miya behind Kita,

“Reject him. “ he mouthed.

Why couldn’t Kita confess next month?

#yandere x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu #yandere atsumu #atsumu miya x reader #yandere atsumu miya x reader

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seijorhi · 1 year

Text

Glitter and Rot

What better way to ring in the new year than with my favourite, degenerate twins. Happy belated new year, y'all <;33

Miya Osamu x female reader x Miya Atsumu

w.c 6.8k

tw: extreme dub-con, themes of infidelity, major character death, smut lite, slight gore/violence, somnophilia if you squint, murder, and, as always, yandere themes

The rain comes heavy, soaking the dirt beneath your bare feet.

The cotton of your nightgown, drenched, plastered to your skin, does little to keep the chill of the midnight air from seeping into your bones. Raindrops fall from the leaves of the trees above you, dripping onto your shoulder, clinging to the ends of your hair, your eyelashes.

In the mountains, away from the city lights, the night glitters with stars, streaks of soft moonlight spilling through the canopy on clear nights. Tonight, though, with the rain clouds looming ominously overhead, there’s no light beyond the sole beam of torchlight, steadily making its way closer towards you.

Your toes wriggle in the earth. Run.

He calls out your name, twigs snapping in the undergrowth behind you.

How… how did you get out here?

The wind picks up, biting at your soaked, exposed skin. You shiver, and he calls your name again. This time you can hear a note of concern – not quite panic, though. Not yet.

Run, that quiet voice urges.

You take a step. Another–

And the torchlight finds you. Squinting under the sudden bright light shining on your face, there’s only a sigh, and the beam shifts downwards.

A familiar countenance peers back at you through the rain; dark hair, grey eyes, a strong jaw. Your husband.

“You’re gonna give me a fucking heart attack one’a these days, sweetheart,” Osamu says, with a wry sort of laugh. “C’mon, let’s get’cha home.”

Holding an umbrella in one hand and the torch in the other, he passes you the latter so that his arm can snake around your middle, tucking you into his side and out of the rain. Unbothered by the dampness of your skin, he presses a kiss to your temple, his thumb rubbing at your side.

“… I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I don’t know– I don’t remember–”

He squeezes you side, offers you a crooked smile as he helps you back through the trees. Back home. “It’s fine, the Doc said this could happen, remember?”

You do, vaguely. The Doctor had said a lot that day, most of it lost to the ringing in your ears.

Neither of you say much as you make the trek back to the house. There’s a gentleness to the way he helps you peel off your sodden nightgown, letting the shower heat up before ushering you in.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him again, when he passes you the big, fluffy towel to rub yourself dry.

Sorry for causing him to worry. Sorry for making him chase after you in the rain in the middle of the night. Sorry that you can’t remember what came before, the life you built with him and all the happiness surrounding it.

You feel like a shell, hollow and useless. You don’t know why he keeps putting up with it, and somewhere in the back of your mind, a nasty voice whispers that he won’t for much longer.

But Samu just shakes his head with a snort, “Don’t be stupid. You’re my wife, ya don’t apologise for anythin’.”

You muster a weak smile in return, quickly glancing away. He’s only being polite, you remind yourself, pulling the towel tighter around yourself. Accident or not, none of this is ideal. It’s been weeks now, and you haven’t gotten better. Your memories are still gone, and no one can tell you with any degree of certainty when or if they’re going to come back, not to mention that tonight officially marks the third time you’ve wandered off in your sleep.

What if your memories don’t come back? What if you never return to the person you used to be?

Before this you had a family, friends, a history. Likes, dislikes, funny stories from your childhood and weird habits. The things that shape who you are from where you’ve been. You’re just supposed to slide back into the life you had, but how can you when you don’t know who that person was?

What kind of man would want–

“Hey,” he says, catching your jaw to coax your face back up. Grey eyes appraise you, a frown pulling at his features. “I mean it. None of this is your fault. Not the accident, or your memories, the sleepwalking, none of it. And I’m not going anywhere either, alright?”

He holds your gaze, surveying you intently until you bob your head in agreement.

“Good girl. Now are ya comin’ back to bed or are ya planning on leavin’ your poor husband high and dry for a second time tonight?”

Your cheeks heat, the heaviness between you easing somewhat as amusement dances across his face. He’s handsome, almost intimidatingly so – striking features and excellent bone structure. Something coils in your stomach as the weight of his gaze bores into you. Taking your face in his palms, his thumb brushes along the curve of your cheekbone. Slowly.

Your mouth parts then, but whatever response you have is lost as his lips descend on yours, kissing you deeply.

When he pulls away, when you’re breathless and slightly dazed, satisfaction and more than a touch of pride gleams from his expression.

“Though we might have to invest in some better locks. Don’t want ya wandering off too far on me.”

—

Sometimes it feels like you’re waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you.

As if you’ve woken in someone else’s life, or a dream, and it’s only a matter of time before it all comes crashing down and you’re whisked away back to reality. A handsome, devoted husband, not one but two houses – the mountainside retreat you’re staying at while you get better, and a place in the city you haven’t yet seen – even the ring on your finger, the bright, sparkling diamond that sits next to your platinum wedding band.

How can it be real?

He tells you that the two of you work together in his restaurant back home, and that too sounds sweet in an oddly domestic way.

And looks can be deceiving, you know that. Money, success, the image of a perfectly happy couple, it doesn’t mean anything. Façades can crack, rot can fester beneath the surface, slowly eating away.

Everything he tells you sounds so… good.

You’re happy. In love. Fulfilled with your job and comfortable enough financially for the both of you to take the time off while you’re still trying to fix the broken pieces of yourself.

Accident aside, no one gets everything they want. Surely no one can be this happy.

There’s a niggling sense of unease that bites and gnaws. No one can be this happy.

There’s a woman who keeps calling Osamu’s phone. You know because those are the calls he lets ring out, ignoring them until he thinks you’re asleep or busy, distracted by whatever task he’s set you on for the day.

He calls her Hikari. No, that’s not entirely true now, is it – he calls her Kari.

“Kari, you know I wanna be there, but I can’t. Things are just– it’s not a good time right now, s’all.”

And the house is quiet enough that you can hear her desperate sniffles on the other end of the line, “Samu, please, this is important. I need you back here.”

He huffs, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair, pacing the length of the living room. “I can’t,” he repeats. “I’m sorry, I am, but after everythin’… it’s too much.”

She cries again, and it’s a strange thing but your heart squeezes in response. She sounds so broken, so lost and scared, a fragile, pitiable thing. “… I know… “ her voice trembles, “Despite what happened, I know you still care about her. I need you to come back. Please, Samu.”

You slip away then, unable to bear it anymore.

Sliding back beneath the covers of your bed, you let out the shuddering breath you’d been holding, trying to process the conversation you’d overheard.

There were perhaps other explanations beyond an affair, but as you lie there, mulling it over, none come to mind. If she were a friend–

‘I know you still care about her.’

No. You’re not that naive. Maybe you were before the accident, or maybe you had suspicions, hell, maybe you’d physically caught him in the act – you suppose none of that matters anymore, does it? All that matters is what you’re going to do with this new development.

And as your husband returns a few minutes later, crawling into bed beside you, an arm hooked over your waist, the warmth of his muscular frame pressed up against your back chasing away the winter chill, you wonder if he sees this as some kind of atonement.

Osamu exhales, nuzzling closer in an effort to get more comfortable, and amidst the strange heaviness in your chest, you close your eyes and will yourself back to sleep.

—

If Osamu knows that you eavesdropped on his call last night, he gives no indication come morning. Although, admittedly, that might be because of your visitor.

The day the Doctor came to the house, he’d said a lot about what was happening to you. A result of head trauma, there was no telling if or when your memories might return.

He’d spoken to Osamu, taking your concerned looking husband aside just before he’d left.

“What did he say?” you’d asked when he’d returned dutifully to your side.

He hadn’t answered straight away, choosing instead to reach out and take your hand in his. For a moment, his focus remained on your entwined fingers, and then he’d said, “To take things slow. Too many people, too much it might… might overwhelm ya. Until things are better, it’s best if it’s just you ‘n me.”

Today, apparently, marked a change to that, because his twin brother was arriving to stay for a little while.

Which, shortly after mid morning, he does.

Naturally, you’ve seen pictures, you and the twins back in highschool, posing with a friend of theirs, grinning toothily and laughing at the camera. Seeing the two of them in person, though – it’s a whole other ball game.

Next to each other, they’re a mirror image, but… not. Tiny, subtle differences that weirdly make them appear more similar than less. It doesn’t make any sense at all, and yet you have no other way of explaining it.

Osamu stands at your side, his arm slung over your shoulder as his brother pulls up front in a fancy, fast looking car. Atsumu, however, pays him no mind, eyes – a few shades browner than his brother’s – fixed solely on you, a familiar, smirking grin broadening across his handsome visage.

Osamu tells you that the three of you are close, yet with only a faint, glimmering recognition and your husband’s words to fall back on, it’s hard to know how you’re supposed to greet someone you once knew and loved.

With an arm loosely wrapped around your front, you settle for a smile.

Atsumu notes this with a raised eyebrow. “Aw, c’mon now, that ain’t no way to greet your favourite twin, is it?”

Before you can stop him he’s on you, yanking you away from Osamu so he can pick you up into a near crushing hug, spinning you around for good measure. You shriek and bury your face in his neck, clinging to him while he laughs, eventually setting you down on wobbly feet.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he says, ignoring Samu’s disapproving scowl in favour of taking you in, hands settling on your waist. And there must be some giveaway, a hesitance he notes because his demeanour turns curious, head tilting to the side, “Still nothin’, huh?”

You shake your head, shrugging. “Sorry.”

Feels like that’s all you’re capable of saying lately.

“Nah, don’t be. Not your fault.”

While you don’t necessarily agree – it’s hard not to think of any of this as some kind of moral failing, as though the only reason you can’t recover those precious memories is because you’re simply not trying hard enough – it’s… nice having someone else around to help fill in the gaps a little.

Not that you aren’t endlessly grateful to Osamu – more than you actually know how to convey to him, and you have tried. It’s just that when you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, being watched over by a man you didn’t recognise, and with no memories of who you were or what had happened, you hadn’t reacted well.

Being your husband (the issue of fidelity aside), he’s supposed to be the person who matters the most to you, and you assume that’s a two way street. In a sense, forgetting him is its own kind of betrayal, with that comes the heaviness of expectations and fears and awfulness.

Plus, things have been… strained between you two, lately.

So yes, having Atsumu here as a sort of buffer between you two is a relief. Having someone else to help fill in the gaps in your life, to tell you about the person you used to be – the one you’re trying to fit back into – even more so.

“That year we made it all the way to the finals before gettin’ knocked out.”

His finger draws across the picture; the volleyball team, sweaty and defeated, bowing before the roaring crowd. All these years later, now a pro playing in arguably one of the best teams in the country (according to him), a two-time Olympic medalist, and he still sounds pissed about it.

You bite back a giggle, following when he turns the page of the year book. “I dunno, second in the nation when you’re still in high school doesn't sound too bad to me.”

“You were there that day.”

Glancing up, you find Osamu considering the two of you from the kitchen, elbow deep in food prep for dinner. “I was?”

He nods. “Yeah. Ya came to all our games, right from the start.”

“There,” Atsumu taps on the next page, a picture of a younger you cheering wildly from the stands, hands cupped around your mouth to amplify your shouts, maroon ribbons in your hair. “Our cute little cheerleader.”

“We begged ya to become our manager, but ya kept turnin’ us down,” Samu adds, then smirks, “Said you couldn’t stand being around Tsumu for another ten hours a week.”

The dig reaches its mark, Atsumu sneering as he flips Samu the bird, while his other arm slides from the backrest of the couch to drape over your shoulders. You hardly notice, utterly transfixed by the book on Tsumu’s lap. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how weird it is to be seeing these pictures, like peering into some alternate universe; you, but not you. You look happy, though.

It makes your heart ache a little.

Did you like sports, or was it more of a school pride sort of thing, you wonder. Or was it them – him, really – who drew you into it? If you watched a game now, would you feel anything, some glint of recognition? Excitement?

Flipping the page, you study the various pictures until one in particular catches your eye – only after a second glance. To be fair, the photo isn’t of you – well, it is, but you’re not the focus. Rather it’s of two girls who appear to be in the same year as you, posing cutely with each other on the school’s courtyard. Behind them, though, in the background there’s a wooden picnic bench in the shade of an oak. Perched cross-legged atop it, sitting amongst piled up books and notes, there’s you – and you’re not alone.

Shoulders back, eyes closed, soaking in the rays of the sun filtering through the leaves sits another boy. Not Osamu, one of his teammates, a dark haired kid you recognise from a bunch of the old photos they’d shown you.

The image itself might not be so remarkable – you’re not doing anything all that interesting, one of a number of people captured in the background, and slightly out of focus at that– if not for the one tiny detail that has a strange feeling racing through your heart.

Barely visible but for the way you study it, your hand is curled in his.

“– listenin’?”

“Huh?”

Mid-way through scraping out his rice, Osamu fixes you with an odd expression. Atsumu, however, just snickers and flicks your forehead. “Ya always were a little spacey.”

Halfheartedly, you chuckle along with him.

The smart thing to do – perhaps the right thing – would be to leave it.

Samu told you the two of you dated right through high school, so it can’t be anything like that. There’s a possibility the two of you were just close. Good friends, judging by how often he appears in the photos with you and the twins. He’d told you your parents, the only family you had, died in an accident years ago, but Samu hasn’t really spoken much about your friends. You know why, and understand it to an extent – he doesn’t want to stress you out unnecessarily, not while you’re still so fragile.

‘The doc said we gotta take things slow, baby.’

Nevertheless, your lips part, the question burning on the tip of your tongue–

Suddenly, as has become a frequent occurrence in the past few days, Osamu’s phone blares to life, the loud vibrations against the marble countertop startling all three of you.

He doesn’t answer it, by this point you no longer expect him to.

—

You dream of fingers running through dark hair, of lips smiling lazily. Someone laughing, ‘You’re an idiot.’

There’s a warmth, a slow burning heat that ignites in your body, trailing from your jaw, down the slope of your neck, dancing along delicate collarbone, another unfurling deep within your core. You chase the pleasant sensations, a soft, pretty moan drawn from parted lips.

Only when teeth bite down, a tender nip to sensitive flesh are you roused from your dreams to find your husband straddling you, his mouth now between your breasts, dark eyes that glint in the low morning light taking in your visage as you slowly come to.

“S-Samu, wha–”

“Shh.” He chuckles, your stomach flipping at the deep rumble, “Relax. Gonna make ya feel good, baby.”

Whatever protests you might have (if you have any at all) are lost when you realise that the heat pooling in your guts is due to the two digits Osamu has curled up inside of you, slowly easing in and out.

It isn’t the first time the two of you have been intimate since the accident, and while you hadn’t fought him those times either, there’s a slight niggling sensation, nearly lost to the burgeoning pleasure, that twists and knots at the thought of what’s to come.

There’s no possible way of knowing how often you’ve had sex with each other in the years you’ve been together. For him, this must be old hat. For you though, with no frame of reference, no past partners to call to mind, there’s an edge of vulnerability you wish you could get rid of.

A hesitance you don’t give a voice to – not that Samu offers you much of an opening to do so.

Pushing up the hem of your nightdress, your husband lifts your hips enough to ease off your panties, dragging them slowly down smooth legs until they’re dangling from one ankle, and you kick them aside.

Spreading them either side of his broad frame, Osamu stands briefly to rid himself of his own underwear, crawling on all fours back between your legs – gripping one thigh to sink his teeth into soft, delectable flesh – his tongue quick to soothe the hurt when you cry out.

“A-Atsumu, he’s gonna wake up,” you murmur as he once more takes you by the waist, hefting you forward so that you lie flush against him, your legs hiked up over his hips.

The very last thing you want right now is an audience.

With one hand, he strokes his cock with the fingers that had been buried inside your pussy, spreading the glistening mix of your slick and his pre over the thick member. The other’s planted near your shoulder, keeping him stable while he rolls his hips forward, slowly bullying his cock into your warm, tight little cunt. Osamu grins roguishly, lowering his top half down to hover above you as you fist at the sheets, your spine arcing, ankles locking over his back.

“Maybe–” he grunts, relishing in the sounds of your sweet cries and gasps as he inches his way into stuffing you full. “Maybe I want him to hear.”

—

A heavy weight drops onto the couch beside you. “Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”

You fiddle with the rings on your left hand. How many times now have you caught yourself toying with them, completely lost in contemplation, their weight on your finger almost foreign?

A few times now you’ve taken them off to wash up and forgotten about them entirely, not noticing their absence until Samu himself comes to take your hand in his and slide them back on.

Did you used to do that before the accident?

No… no, you probably spent days marvelling at them, wiggling your fingers to make the diamond sparkle in the light. You were probably enthralled by the pretty thing. Blissfully in love.

Happy.

“I think Osamu’s cheating on me.”

You don’t dare raise your eyeline when you say it, afraid of what you’ll see. You might be his wife, however poor a job you’re currently doing, yet the one person Osamu’s closest to is undeniably his brother.

Since Tsumu arrived three days ago, all they’ve done is bicker between themselves, and yet without either of them saying as much, the writing’s on the wall. It’s in the looks they share, full of silent conversations you’re not privy to and won’t ever have a hope of understanding. In the way they move around each other, that implicit, frankly unnerving trust they have with one another.

There are things Osamu can’t share with you – or won’t, maybe – but there’s not a doubt in your mind that if Samu were sleeping with somebody else, if he loved them as he claimed to love you, Atsumu knows about it.

It’s not confirmation that you’re searching for, though. You doubt he’d admit it to begin with – between you and Samu, there’s no question of which side his loyalty falls. This isn’t about that.

For days now, weeks, you’ve had this gnawing pit in your stomach that keeps getting worse, and worse and worse.

With each day that passes, you should be making some kind of progress towards regaining your memories or, if not that, then at the very least becoming more comfortable around him. Yet you still feel like a stranger inhabiting this body, and to make matters worse, your marriage might be failing before you can try to adjust yourself to it.

Atsumu’s really the last person you should be saying this to. It’s the sort of thing you accidentally let slip to a friend after one too many glasses of wine, letting them comfort you and offer advice, commiserate, even.

Yet Samu won’t so much as bring up the friends you had before for fear of making things worse – because you’re fragile and weak, and you haven’t shown any signs of getting better. From the complete and utter radio silence on their ends, you can only assume none of them bothered to fight him on it.

Again, rationally speaking you can understand it – that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting in its own bitter way.

Beside you, Atsumu laughs. Actually laughs.

Indignation – hurt – burns, heating your cheeks as your hands curl into pathetic little fists in your lap and shake. Much to your dismay, tears prickly uncomfortably at your waterline. You go to say something, only for a lump to settle in your throat, blocking all noise. You didn’t think he’d spill the truth just like that, but to laugh at you?

In a split second decision you start to rise, planning on stalking off to go lick your wounds alone in your bedroom until Samu comes home, when a hand on your shoulder stops you.

He chuckles again when he’s met with your poisonous glare, “Hey, c’mon. Don’t run away, I wasn’t laughin’ atcha.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoff. His lips curl into a smirk, hands coming up in a peaceful gesture. “Okay, okay, I was but… s’just funny to me that you think Samu’d ever look twice at another girl. He’s been in love with ya pretty much from day one.”

The words should be more of a reassurance than they are. Your shoulders rise and fall, a tight shrug as your gaze dips once more to your lap, to the rings that shine mockingly on your left hand.

Atsumu, however, isn’t so willing to drop the subject.

“Nah, you don’t get to say some wild shit like that ‘n then go all quiet on me. Explain.”

If you got up and left, would he follow you? Probably, you muse. If anything, Atsumu’s proven over the past few days that he’s nothing if not persistent. He’s clearly amused, at your expense, mind you, yet the way he scrutinises you now, the slight narrowing of his eyes, that reminds you of a dog with a bone.

No, he won’t let this go.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you shrug again, “There’s this girl– woman, I guess. She keeps calling him… Samu won’t talk to her if I’m around.” You swallow tightly, “I–I overheard them, the last time she rang, and…”

“What’d ya hear?”

You fiddle with the hem of your skirt as that tell tale prickle stings at your tear ducts. After your early morning tumble in the sheets, you’d thought that things might’ve been different between you two. But Samu still left, some hollow excuse about running errands, and all you can think is that he’s with her now, that whatever you gave wasn’t enough and–

“Look at me.” Atsumu’s no longer laughing. If anything, he actually looks mildly pissed off by the whole thing, his jaw tightening even as he tries for a reassuring smile, scooching closer and touching your shoulder again, “What did she say to him?”

“She told him she needed him, begged him to come home.” Your voice breaks, just as the dam to your tears do, tumbling down your cheeks as your shoulders shake and crumple inwards.

Atsumu runs his tongue over his teeth before muttering a quiet curse, and you suppose that that’s confirmation enough. Without a word he pulls you into his arms, your face held to his chest while he strokes your back and you cling to him in turn, letting all the frustration and grief and confusion of the past few weeks spill out of you in horrid, trembling cries.

You don’t know how long you sit there, half cradled in Atsumu’s lap before he finally speaks, “I don’t care what ya heard. Samu loves you more than anythin’, we both do. He ain’t gonna throw that away for nobody.”

Drawing back, he takes your cheek in one hand, cupping it in his palm, the broad pad of his thumb sweeping away the remnants of your tears with a tenderness that near breaks your heart.

“I mean it,” he says. You’re close enough that the warmth of his breath tickles your skin, that you can count every last one of his eyelashes. Your stomach flutters. “You mean everything to us. Nothin’s gonna get in the way of that.”

And before you can stop him, before you can blink, Atsumu’s closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours.

Like a computer short circuiting, there’s nothing you can do but freeze and falter as he kisses you, wholly unbothered by your lack of participation. His lips are surprisingly soft, warm as they move against yours, and while his tongue brushes along your lower lip, he makes no real effort to deepen it, seemingly content with the contact he has.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage so violently that it drowns out all other noise. Your stomach twists, flips, churning as he moans softly into your mouth, but for the life of you, you can’t move, can’t stop this. You’re frozen. Shellshocked. Only when Atsumu breaks away, pupils dilated, eyes slightly glazed over, wearing a stupid, self satisfied little grin do you finally gain control over your body again.

By that point, he’s already shifting to settle you back on the couch, rising himself. “Samu and I love ya. We aren’t goin’ anywhere, stop worrying your pretty little head about it, yeah?”

And then he’s walking away, whistling as he goes.

—

A little while later, Atsumu calls out that he’s going for a run. You don’t acknowledge it.

The front door opens. Closes. The sun moves across the sky, minutes tick by, and eventually he returns, sweaty and panting, popping his head in the door to make sure you’re right where he left you.

The whole time you sit stationary on your bed, staring vacantly out the window to the forest that lies beyond. Numb, just numb.

“Gonna go have a shower, then I think you ‘n me should talk before Samu gets back.” He waits and you don’t acknowledge him. Shrugging off his shirt, something wicked enters his expression, “Unless ya wanna come join me?”

That, finally, gets a reaction; your head jerking back to regard him with wide, scandalised eyes, “What?”

He winks, snickers when your gaze drops briefly below his shoulders, eyeing his muscular chest, the well defined planes of his stomach. A bead of sweat rolls from his neck, you track its path with a rapt focus, down to his navel, the smattering of hair there, the cut of the V shaped muscles that draw your attention towards–

Abruptly, you force your attention upwards, cheeks burning as blood rushes to your face.

Atsumu, grinning smugly, missed none of it. “Next time, then.”

And with that, he waltzes off, leaving the door ajar.

… What the hell?

What the actual fuck?

Head reeling, you have no idea how you’re supposed to process this sudden shift in… well, everything. Had this – you and Atsumu – happened before? Did Osamu know about it?

Were you cheating, too?

Was that what your relationship with Osamu was; two deeply unhappy people screwing countless others to avoid fixing whatever it was that festered between them.

Your mind jumps to the picture you’d seen in the year book, you and that boy on the picnic bench, your hand wrapped around his. Osamu told you that you’d been dating ever since your high school days, had you been unfaithful that whole time – spreading your legs for his friends and brother until he gave up trying to be loyal in return?

You feel sick at the thought.

What other option is there, though? What explanation? Either Atsumu’s being particularly cruel and messing with you, or he isn’t and you’re apparently more than okay fucking not only your husband but his brother as well.

‘Despite what happened, I know you still care about her.’ Hikari’s words ring mockingly in your head. All this time you’ve been so bent out of shape over the idea of Osamu with another woman, and it’s now occurring to you that maybe you might’ve been the one to drive him to it.

Despite what happened.

You draw in a shuddering breath, you bring a hand to your lips, either to stifle a sob or to keep yourself from throwing up, you’re not entirely sure which.

And as the sound of running water filters through the room, so too does a sense of calm clarity.

For weeks now you’ve been trying to make this work, trying to slip back into the person you were, a life that you don’t truly remember.

And it isn’t working.

You still don’t feel normal around Osamu. You don’t remember anything, and despite what you’d been told from the start – despite fighting it every step of the way – you have to accept the possibility that that might not change.

Your spine straightens, the grip you have on the duvet easing as you take another, calmer breath in, letting it fill your lungs and clear your head.

The answer’s been staring you in the face this whole time. If you can’t find your way back to the life you led before you got hurt, perhaps rather than clinging to a past that doesn’t truly belong to you anymore, it’s time you cut it loose and walk away.

A clean break doesn’t sound like such a bad idea when the current situation promises nothing but messiness, hurt and heartbreak for everyone involved.

Even if the thought of going it alone is a terrifying one.

Even if it means leaving the one – now two, you suppose – people who stood by your side in the aftermath behind.

And as if the universe senses the tumultuousness inside your head, the sharp, trilling sound of a ringtone shatters it, snapping you out of your thoughts and back into the moment.

You figure that it must be Atsumu’s phone and despite being startled, you’re content to let it ring out – after all, it’s not your phone, not your business.

Atsumu’s a professional athlete, an incredibly successful one at that, there could be any number of important people on the other end of the line, and if it’s critical, whoever it is can leave a message. You’re not his receptionist.

After a few seconds, the ringing stops. And begins again.

Frowning, you push yourself up from the bed, heading towards the dining room. Atsumu’s still in the shower, you can hear the faucet running, your only thought is that if it’s Samu and it’s something urgent, he won’t mind.

Except when you find it, lit up and vibrating on the kitchen bench, the caller ID isn’t his twin’s. Again, the ringing stops, and again, after a short beat, it begins anew.

The picture that fills the screen is of a pretty girl with dimples, her arms looped around a familiar looking brunet.

Not Osamu, but the boy from the yearbook. Older, of course, smiling lazily at the camera while she pokes her tongue out and throws up two peace signs.

Little Suna, the caller ID tells you, and in brackets next to a sun emoji; Hikari.

Your heart squeezes, a thick lump settling in your throat as you survey the image of the two of them. But it isn’t dismay, or the hurt you’d felt earlier when Osamu was hiding her. You can’t put a finger on what it is exactly, only that looking at that picture fills you with an incomprehensible and near overwhelming sense of grief, like someone’s clawed their way into your chest, taken your still beating heart in their hand and slowly, agonisingly, ripped it from you.

Without consciously choosing to do so, you slide the little bar across, answering the call and clicking on the speaker icon.

“H-hello?”

The silence you’re met with is heavy. Pregnant. Why did you pick up? Why the hell did you answer?! Panic and common sense sets in and you silently curse yourself for being so stupid, your finger moving to hurriedly tap the end call button.

And then you hear her gasp, a tiny, sharp little thing that spears right through you. Hikari stutters your name, “You… Wha– they… they found you?”

She starts to laugh then, or maybe she’s sobbing, it’s difficult to tell exactly.

“You’re okay?” she asks, the sound muffled by choked, ragged noises. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re okay! A-after they found Rin, I-I thought–”

White noise drowns her out.

… Rin.

Rin…taro.

Suna.

Your knees go weak, giving way beneath you. Pain sings through your kneecaps as they collide with the wooden floorboards, but it’s nothing compared to the agony that overtakes your chest, spreading with every beat of your frantic heart until it’s the only thing you can feel, and you cling to it. Desperate. Gasping.

There’s a frantic noise somewhere, Hikari calling your name; it’s lost to the pounding haze. Nothing more than the buzz of a gnat flittering around your head.

Every thought eddies from your head, only him. Only that name; Suna Rintaro.

And suddenly–

“You’re an idiot, you know?”

You laugh, throwing an arm around his shoulder as you wriggle your fingers in front of his face, admiring the sparkling ring. “But it’s so pretty, don’t you think? It suits me.”

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow when you turn to cheekily grin at him, “Considering I was the one who picked it, yeah, that was kind of the idea.”

Giggling, you stretch up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

………

“Gin can’t make it. Somethin’ about his girlfriend and the baby,” Rin mutters, appearing in the doorway of your bedroom. “So it’ll just be us and the twins, I guess.”

“Well geez, no need to sound too excited about it,” you say, eyeing your boyfriend – fiancé now, you have to keep reminding yourself – from the mirror as you battle with the clasp of your necklace. “It’s fine, we’ll see him when we see Kita and the others next month.”

A few seconds pass with no sign of victory, and Rin rolls his eyes, “Let me.”

He comes up behind you, taking the delicate gold chain from your fingers and nimbly clasping it shut in what feels like a mockery of your struggles. Adjusting the pendant so that it falls better, he exhales, letting his arms fold loosely around you, his chin coming to a rest atop your head.

The faint crease between his brows, the set of his jaw – to anyone else he might appear bored, annoyed even. You aren’t so easily fooled. You know Rin, know better than to push. It’s not hard to guess what’s bothering him, though. “You think it’ll be weird?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he shrugs, “I think it’ll be weirder without Gin.”

“It was years ago, they’ve both moved on – a long, long time ago. They’re our friends, Rin. The only thing they’re gonna be is happy for us.”

………

A hand covering your mouth, another roughly shaking your shoulder, rousing you from sleep. “Shh, shh, it’s just me. There’s someone in the house,” Rin’s voice whispers in your ear. “Get under the bed and don’t make a sound, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Rin–”

“Not a fucking sound!” he hisses, and quietly slips from the bed. As if on cue, a loud shattering noise cuts through the room, and terror, absolute terror, grips you. You do as he bids, limbs shaking and clumsy, the sound of every breath enhanced in the quiet stillness Rintaro leaves behind. You clamp a hand over your mouth to try and muffle it.

You wait, and wait, trembling in the darkness.

And then a crash, heavier than the last one. Rintaro’s yelling, more voices raised, more muted thumps, grunting and howling bellows of agony that have every hair on your body standing on end, and abruptly–

Silence.

It rings in your ear, echoing.

Your pulse thunders, every beat of your heart pumping a paralysing mix of fear and panic through your body. You’re shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down your cheeks as you try – try so desperately – not to make a noise like Rin told you to.

The footsteps that approach have your blood running cold, and you squeeze your eyes shut, wheezing terrified breaths as you choke back sobs and pray that they won’t find you.

You aren’t that lucky.

You aren’t that quiet.

They stop at the foot of the bed. Two of them. One bends down, a hand finding your ankle and with a snickering laugh, yanks you out into the open.

You scream and fight against the figures clad head to toe in black, thrashing like a wild thing for all the good that it does you. You’re determined not to go easy – at least, not until they carry you out past the living room, the mess they left there.

Rin, but not Rin. Not with his face brutalised like that, his skull all caved in, limbs broken and splayed out all wrong.

No.

No, no, no, no.

One eye, empty and lifeless, staring back–

It’s too much.

You blink, jerking back to the present with a heaving gasp. Glancing up, your gut tightens into a knot as two things become starkly apparent.

One; Osamu’s finally returned, standing half frozen in the doorway, appraising you with an uncharacteristically cold expression.

Two; it’s deathly quiet. Turning your head, you find that the call with Kari’s gone silent, a shirtless Atsumu, hair damp, a towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips, gripping his phone, jaw tightly clenched.

It twists into an awful sort of forced grin when he notices you’ve come back to them.

“I really, really wish ya hadn’t done that, baby.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere miya atsumu #yandere miya osamu #yandere atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere miya atsumu x reader #yandere miya osamu x reader #yandere atsumu #yandere osamu #tw: non/dubcon

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yanderecrazysie · 6 months

Note

How was your day? I hope it was great! 😊

A quote help inspire this brainrot and that is “Always the bridesmaid never the bride”.

Now I recently re-read your Unrequited story and got an idea. What if yandere Atsumu miya x best friend reader where Reader has a huge crush on him but Atsumu is a major playboy who don’t see Reader as a woman and thought she was tomboy. Like Reader and Atsumu are best friends and rivals since childhood as Reader is the Star player of the female volleyball. The reader is more on the muscular side and cut her hair short due to it getting in the way of her games. Like reader can keep up with the Male Volleyball team and even competes with the miya twins during practice. Even if reader acts tomboy-ish, she is still straight and actually a romantic at heart and wants to date but because of her general muscular appearance and gruff attitude boys are intimidated by her. Others boys don’t even see her as a woman and the general school thought that she was boy due to her looking like a boy similar to Haru from Ouran HighSchool host club. But the reader has huge crush of Atsumu since they were little but Atsumu is busy playing around with more feminine girls. Atsumu unintentionally ignores Reader’s confession thinking that she’s just joking around and gets into a fling with a girl that is opposite of reader: gentle, slim and beautiful. The reader heartbroken by Atsumu still wishes him a happy relationship and goes to cry for a little while but to her surprise Osamu comforts her and allows her to vent about her feelings and insecurities about her body and how she feels like boys don’t perceive her as woman. After some time, Reader and Osamu began to fall in love due to Osamu being there for reader and treating her the way she wants to be treated but when reader during a victory party gets drunk she unintentionally revealed her old feelings to Atsumu and with tears in her eyes said that she always supported him and wanted to him to see her as a woman but its too late and osamu just picks up the reader to avoid making a scene . How would Atsumu take this and what would he feel seeing that he lost the reader forever and to his own twin brother no less.

Hope you have a wonderful day!

Oooooh this is some good brainrot right here. Atsumu would totally be exactly like this too.

I feel like this turned out really stiff-sounding somehow.

Title: Overlook

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x Reader; non-yandere Miya Osamu x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, masculine female reader, drunk reader

Summary: Atsumu only sees you as one of the boys.

overlook

/verb/

fail to notice (something)

The ball slammed against the floor, shooting back up into the air as the girls’ team cheers. The scoreboard was flipped, showing the numbers 25 to 20.

“Thank you for the game!” the two teams told each other a moment later before breaking up to mingle among each other.

“Congratulations on the final point,” Osamu cheered, clapping you on the back. You’re glad your childhood friend isn’t a sore loser.

“Girls versus boys, and the girls win- how unfair,” Atsumu, another childhood friend, was less charitable, a defined pout on his face.

“That sounds pretty sexist,” you warned teasingly, “Assuming the boys will win and all.”

Atsumu responded back with an even bigger pout. You laughed, trying to hide the blush from your cheeks as you looked at him.

A dark-haired boy walked over to stand next to Atsumu. He gave you a bored look for a moment before saying, “I thought you were a boy at first. You know, because of the short hair and muscles.”

A flush spread across your face. You knew that was how most people saw you, but it hurt hearing it directly from someone.

“That’s not very nice, Suna,” Osamu said coldly. You silently thanked him, giving a timid little nod.

Everyone thought you were a boy when they first saw you. It didn’t matter that you were somewhat girly, other than liking sports, it didn’t matter if you wore the girls’ uniform or had a romantic worldview- you weren’t seen as a woman at all.

You supposed it couldn’t be helped too much- your hairstyle was very typical of a boy’s and your figure was not very feminine. You were tall, muscular, and flat-chested.

The coaches of each team blew their whistles and you gathered with your team to hear the critiques from the practice match. You could tell that your coach was proud of you all for winning against the boys and you beamed whenever she praised your strength.

You were the one randomly chosen to stay behind and clean the gym. You didn’t mind at all, it always gave you time to think.

The boys left the gym, all except for Atsumu. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized he must’ve been chosen to stay and clean too! The blush that spread across your face was massive, touching even the tips of your ears, and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

Not a minute later and the two of you were alone together, running around, picking up balls and things that had been left behind. Once you had finished with that, the two of you headed for the janitorial closet to get the brooms.

“Hey, Atsumu,” your heart was pounding in your ears, but you knew this was the time to ask, when you were completely alone for once and not around each other’s teammates.

“What’s up, (Y/n)?” Atsumu asked, grabbing a large broom.

“I… I like you…” You blurted out, “Like… a lot.”

Atsumu immediately laughed, “Same, yer one of my closest friends, I’m almost as close to ya as Osamu.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” you said frantically, “I mean-”

“Come on, I want to get this over with,” Atsumu whined, slipping past you and placing the broom on the floor, “Stop joking around.”

Your heart sank and tears leapt to your eyes. A strangled “okay” left your lips but you were anything but okay.

You shouldn’t have come to this party. Not if you wanted to keep your sanity.

Nearly the first sight you’d been greeted with was Atsumu making out with some random girl on the couch. The worst part had to be how the girl looked- skinny, feminine, large-breasted, and short. The complete opposite of you was clearly Atsumu’s type.

When Atsumu walked up to you with her on his arm, it’s all you could do to wish them a congratulations. You’re tearful the moment they turn away.

“Are you okay?” A soft voice asked you. You looked over to the source and were surprised to see Osamu standing next to you.

“I’m fine,” the minute the words leave your mouth, you burst into tears.

Osamu gently led you over to one of the open private rooms and rubbed your back as you sob into your hands. You’re thankful for the comforting motions.

“What’s the matter?” Osamu asked you.

The words spill out of your mouth before you can even think about keeping quiet, “No one sees me as a woman, Osamu. I look like a guy and that’s all everyone thinks of me.”

“I see ya as a woman,” Osamu said quietly, “I always have.”

Before you know it, he’s closing the gap between you both. You allow it to happen, surprised by how soft his lips are as they meet your own. You melt into the kiss as though it were the only thing that mattered.

Three months later, another party rolls around. It’s a celebration for the team going to nationals and you’re there to support Osamu. You’ve drowned at least four drinks by now, and they’re nowhere near light on the alcohol.

You’re stumbling around, nearly blackout drunk at this point, when you run into Atsumu. Your feelings for him have long since faded, replaced by a fondness for his twin, but you can’t stop the words from coming. The alcohol has obliterated your filter.

“You know, I used to have a crush on you,” you giggle drunkenly, “All I wanted was for you to see me as a woman but noooo.”

You sway a little as a hiccup leaves your mouth, and you continue, “But it’s all for the best, right? Now I’ve got someone else, someone better.” A smile spreads across your face as you look across the crowded room to Osamu, who sends a grin back your way. You give a little wave, which almost sends you off-balance in your drunken state.

“I’ve found happiness elsewhere.”

Atsumu stares at you, mind working a mile a minute.

You’d had a crush on him? How hadn’t he noticed? How hadn’t he seen you?

You looked every bit the part of a woman, decked out in a pretty dress for the party and a little bit of makeup. Yet, Atsumu had never bothered to look at you that way.

Maybe his feelings for you were sparked from the jealousy that his brother had something he didn’t. How dare ‘Samu take you away when you’d liked him first?

Maybe it was the rejection of your previous feelings, the knowledge that you’d moved on, even without him ever knowing you’d liked him in the first place.

As Atsumu watches you nuzzle up to his twin, giving him a peck on the lips, he feels white-hot jealousy course through his veins.

He wonders if he can get you to feel that way about him again.

Even if it hurts his brother in the process.

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #yandere x reader #haikyuu!!#yandere one shot #one shot #yandere atsumu #miya atsumu

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creative-crybaby · 1 year

Note

Yep I was talkin bout sakusa n da twins with reader. I was thinking a bit of a yandere too cz that just slaps the cherry on top. Do tell me your thoughts on this.

bruh just thinking about it sounds life-draining--imagine actually being in that situation 💀💀💀

The Miya twins are already such a handful--now add the yandere element to them. Atsumu's known for wearing his heart on his sleeve, which will include his need for your constant attention and his temper growing short should you try to fight him off. But at least he's predictable.

Osamu appears level-headed in comparison; I think he's harsher with his punishments. He doesn't need to blow up in your face because his bite is bigger than his bark. That's only if you disobey, of course. Play along and he'll be just a tiny bit lenient with you, especially when his twin's involved. Atsumu, on the other hand, makes sure to bask in your pliancy through taunts and physical closeness that's almost suffocating.

And then we have Sakusa. I could see him as somewhat similar to Osamu, what with his silent aura. Though I feel like he'd at least offer a warning glare should you even think about standing up for yourself. Regarding leniency, it's even rarer coming from him. And since there's already such a messy dynamic between the Miya twins--disagreements on how to handle you, not willing to share, etc.--I feel like there's that opportunity for Sakusa to jump in. Not to say he doesn't lose his patience (looking at you, Tsumu), but it's different sharing your beloved with someone who you've been with since day one.

That said, I'm curious about the Osamu and Sakusa dynamic. There could be a silent agreement between them regarding their level-headedness, but that's as close to any peace you'll be getting.

At the end of the day, they're all still yanderes. They'll share you because they have to: you're their soulmate. That isn't to say they won't try and be selfish whenever they can, clawing their way to have you all to themselves. Never hurting each other, mainly arguments over who's hogging you for too long or if their methods work/have gone too far.

It's only when you try to escape do they all work together, and it's times like those you look at your soulmate mark (or however you're told about your soulmates--seeing colour for the first time, feeling a certain sensation, etc.) and wonder if this is the gods' idea of a cruel joke. A sick setup where there could've been a mistake with the soulmate assignment: it's possible for you to have more than one soulmate--surely there's someone else who has the same symbol as you and there's some crazy misunderstanding with the three you've been trapped with.

But that's not it. A joke normally implies a punchline, and you've been stuck on that hook for too long.

#mother of god i pray for thee #i love them but omg every day is a headache within another headache #yandere haikyuu #yandere sakusa #yandere atsumu #yandere osamu #soulmates au #yandere miya twins #dark content #haikyuu x reader

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colourstreakgryffin · 6 months

Note

Hey hey!! Can I request Yandere! Atsumu, Osamu, and Suna where reader is constantly up to mischief? Thank you<33

Hehe! More Haikyuu Yanderes I see~! I love the Miya Twins like. Those morons then you got chill boy Suna, perfect choices~!

Miya Atsumu

Whilst Atsumu does like a good joke and prank every once and a while, his obsession over you is being pushed aside by a behaviour. By mischief, no Atsumu won’t let himself get clouded away in your mind

Atsumu is clingy and possessive, he doesn’t want you liking anything but him so he does his best to brattily distract you from causing mischief. Like him better than jokes! He has more to offer

Atsumu actively tries to make every mischievous stunt you pull go unacknowledged so you give up on trying to cause mischief and grow to like him. You’re just warped by it, he will save you

“Dokiii~! Don’t set up a prank! Have fun with me! I am so much funnier than general mischief, i can make your day over and over, trust me! It’ll be great”

Miya Osamu

Osamu is usually calm and composed against everything but with your mischief, his armour is cracking since he can’t control it in the way he wants. He can’t control you in the way he wants

Osamu will never lay a hand on you nor others, he uses threats and cruel words to drive his rivals away but when it comes to driving your mischief away, he must use new methods

Osamu does want to accept all of you. He loves you so much but your mischief is a distraction, it’s drives you away from him and he can’t stand that. He must do something

“Dokusha, darling. Is there any particular reason you like mischief? I mean… there must be something and if there is, why is it better than me?”

Suna Rintarō

The man is like the king of manipulation and gaslighting so… he can make you do exactly want he wants without trying too hard all whilst sprinkling his love for you on your nose

Your mischief is getting in the way of Rintarõ trying to win your heart over and he simply hates it, he won’t lose to a trait. He must break this stupid habit so you’ll come to him for everything

Rintarõ fakes acting uncaring and recording your mischief but from behind the curtains, he is stopping you by directly manipulating you into being calm and staying by his side

“Doesn’t all the mischief getting boring, Dokusha. How about you just drop it for once, nobody is that entertained by it, other than you”

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depravitycentral · 11 months

Text

Haikyuu Dick Headcannons Pt. 1

Ft. the Inarizaki men: Shinsuke Kita, Aran Ojiro, Rintarou Suna, Atsumu Miya, Osamu Miya

tw: excessive talk of dicks/cum, yandere undertones, no protection, allusions to anal but nothing explicit, fem reader, MDNI

He’s just barely over five inches, but he’s got enough girth to get you wincing every time he slips inside you. Overall, his cock is very masculine; hard lines, perfectly straight, with a prominent vein that runs diagonally across his shaft. He likes it when you trace along it, either with your tongue or your finger, always making him quickly suck in a breath. He’s moderately sensitive, but it you want to make Shinsuke crumble then you have to aim for his balls – they’re heavy, constantly full, always ready to emptied, preferably into you. The moment your nimble fingers touch the sensitive skin, Shinsuke’s groaning, his jaw working as he tries to steady his breathing, not wanting to come too quickly from just a few simple touches. He lets out these airy hisses of breath when you squeeze at them, almost sounding like he’s trying to hold back any noise – but you’ll see the dead give away of his pleasure with the way his thighs tense up.

His cum is thick, to the point where it takes a while when it drips down your face, feeling warm and sticky. It’s difficult to clean because it’s so sticky, getting everywhere and staying there, and it tends to glob up. It’s messy, and normally Shinsuke would hate it, but when it’s on you, it’s different. And god, when it’s inside of you, some switch gets flipped in his brain, the way it dribbles out of you making him feral. He likes to gather any leaking out of you and smear it across the inside of your thighs, pressing kisses against the skin and tasting himself on his tongue. If given the preference, he will always come inside you, and he tends to groan your name when he’s finishing. It’s higher than normal, sounding strained, and he’ll always shut his eyes tightly, the pleasure overwhelming him as he releases inside you. He always kisses you as the last few spurts leak from his tip, his tongue desperately toying with yours, his hands gripping onto your sides and thighs to try and ground him. He gets a bit carried away when he comes, the feeling making his head spin, and you can hear it in the way he breathes so heavily, see it in the way his cock twitches inside you, long after he’s given you every drop he can.

His favorite way that you touch him is when you clench around him when he’s fucking you in a mating press. It’s his favorite position; the angle, the view, how close he can get to you. He likes to keep your knees pressed as tightly as possibly, opening you up and leaving your pretty little pussy open for him. His eyes always manage to wander down your body to where he’s thrusting into you, watching the way he sinks into you again and again, disappearing inside you only to pull back out. He gulps when he sees the white ring slowly forming at his base, standing out against his pale skin and only getting bigger with each thrust back inside you. He likes the way the angle makes you feel tighter around him, the sensation making him grasp onto you tighter. He’s able to hit all those spots that get you moaning this way, and with each pounding against your g-spot, you clench down on him even tighter, until he eventually loses it and lets go, burying himself as deeply inside as possible so as much of his cum stays in as it can. He likes the way your cunt flutters around him in this position, massaging him and pushing him through his own orgasm. And when he pulls out, he especially loves the way it makes this graphic, dirty schlucking noise, as if your cunt doesn’t want to let him go, that one last suction on his cock making him want to fuck you all over again.

He’s a solid six inches with moderate girth, a thoroughly filling cock that’ll make every hole feel stuffed no matter how he fucks you. He does his best to stay trimmed and groomed, but he likes to keep things a bit longer because he doesn’t like the way he looks cleanshaven. He’s not especially sensitive, but he finds the way that feels best for him is steady, consistent stimulation – expect rhythmic motions with him, especially when he’s in your mouth and in your cunt. If you really want to get him shivering, though, you can target the spot at the base of his cock, on the underside right above his balls. He won’t moan when you brush your fingers along it, but he’ll stiffen up, Adam’s apple bobbing and his hand grabbing your wrist, motioning you to do it again. He especially likes it when you lick there, rubbing circles with your tongue as he sighs and subconsciously pulls your head even closer.

His cum is kind of watery, and tends to run once it lands. It’s easy to clean up, though, which is a good thing because he’s a bit fan of coming on your body rather than inside you or down your throat. He shoots the first round, but if he comes more than once he dribbles, the volume significantly reduced. He always lets out this breathy moan of your name when he’s coming, sounding almost as if he’s in pain. He throws his head back, eyes fluttering closed, and you can see the way his entire hips twitch alongside his cock, everything bobbing up and down from the jerky motions. He prefers to come on either your stomach or your ass, depending on which is available when he pulls out, but his favorite will always be your pretty cheeks, all round and soft and perfect to touch and grope. He’ll pull out and start vigorously fisting himself, his other hand finding purchase on one asscheek, squeezing harshly and groping, before lining his cock up with your ass and letting go, watching as spurts land over your clenched pussy and asshole, the white getting all over you. It makes him groan at the sight, and he’ll often lightly smack your ass, rubbing your cheeks together and then pulling them apart just to admire the sight again.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you grind on him. Specifically, he likes when he’s standing behind you, your perfect little ass rubbing against his crotch, slowly getting him hard and pressing insistently against you. He likes the way it feels to have dull stimulation for a long period of time, and if you’re able to keep it up for a while, he’ll eventually be able to come this way. He likes when you’re leaning on something, and often he’ll ambush you against the kitchen counter, starting by humping at you like some dog in heat before letting you take over and grind back against him. Sometimes he’ll bring his hands up under your shirt to cup at your bare breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples. He likes the way you feel so desperate against him, and how, if you’re wearing nothing and only his boxers are covering him, he can feel your wetness through the fabric, teasing him and making him ache for more. He likes riling you up, and while sex with you feels amazing, sometimes the buildup can be better than the finale.

He’s roughly five and a half inches, definitely enough for you to work with, though he is on the skinnier side. He’s not very veiny, instead just a lovely, smooth cock – pretty and without any blemishes, the kind you see and just want to touch and suckle. A small tuft of brown hair sits atop his shaft, a few hairs spread across the set of balls that a pinker color than the rest of him. The closer he gets to coming, the redder his cock gets, especially near the tip – it swells, too, the blood rush leaving him dizzy and making him fuck you even harder. He produces an above average amount of precum; when he’s kissing you and his hands are all over your body, excitement buzzing in his veins at the prospect of getting you naked and moaning his name, his boxers are already forming wet patches, a big, sticky mess when you eventually get them off. He’s a bit embarrassed by it, worried it makes him look too eager and desperate for you, but if you just compliment him and tell him that you’re excited too, he’ll just stutter out your name and look away, embarrassment mixing with bashfulness.

He’s a shooter but it doesn’t go too far, you have to get a bit close to get it on your body. His cum is always very warm and feels nice on your skin, even as it starts to dry. It’s opaque and unfortunately pretty bitter, but he really likes it when you swallow it. He won’t force you to, but watching the way your pretty throat bobs as you take it all makes his cock twitch, a small, sad spurt of whatever his body can scrounge up leaking out of his oversensitive tip. He’ll just stop and stare when you do this, lips slightly parted and harsh breaths coming out, his eyes a bit wide, the smallest whisper of your name on his lips. He’s also quite partial to finishing on your chest, especially if it’s cold in the room and your nipples are all hard and taut. He likes the way it runs down them, dribbling down to form little droplets, and sometimes he’ll lean in and suck them off, teeth lightly nibbling on the sensitive skin. He just likes seeing his cum on you, and it’s especially erotic to have it in such a dirty place.

He’s got this fantasy of you just absolutely manhandling him – in the bedroom he’s normally a bit more dominant (though very much a soft dom, if only because he really genuinely wants to make you feel good – his eagerness is almost palpable), but he secretly wants you to take control, and this extends towards your treatment of his cock, too. He wants you to suck him off, but to have your way with him; he wants you to grip him with force, your pretty fingers wrapped around his length while you lick at him, smiling up at him as you squeeze, tightly enough to make him hiss through his teeth, your thumb coming up to quickly swipe at his tip, making sure to pass over his slit. He wants you to suck at him, pressing wet, slobbery kisses up the sides but never quite the tip, never quite where he needs you. He wants you to tease him, to make his breath stutter and his muscles flex, but to never quite let him fall over the edge, keeping him right where you want him. He wants you to vigorously take him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down and blindly grope at his balls while he clenches his teeth and shuts his eyes, only to pull away completely, smiling up at him and telling him to hold on, not yet, I’m not through with you yet. He wants you to edge him until the last possible moment, and when you whisper to him that he can finally finish, he’s immediately coming, a grunt that sounds more like a shout falling past his lips. He just likes the idea of you using him for your pleasure, and while he’ll never voice this fantasy, every time he fucks his fist to the thought of you it’s what’s swirling through his mind.

It’s a solid five inches, with perfectly groomed black hairs framing the base. He’s meticulous about upkeep; he spends easily ten minutes out of every shower just trimming up, leaving a very short layer of hair there to make sure everything looks inviting for you, but not too perfect; he doesn’t want you to think he spends as long worrying about it as he does. (He wants you to think it’s effortless, like he’s just that sexy.) A few veins dot the length, none standing out super far, but it’s enough to run your tongue over when he’s in your mouth, which gets his knees weakening and nearly buckling. He’s pretty sensitive overall, but his cock visibly throbs when you pay attention to the tip; he likes when you drag your tongue along his slit or run your tongue around it, especially if you pull off of him with a big, wet pop noise. He just twitches a lot, cock jumping and making his balls jump, too. You can even make him twitch visibly through some of his pants if you whisper into his ear, telling him all the dirty things you want to do to him – and if you cup him over his pants, you can feel the movement, the warmth radiating through the fabric, and, if you’re lucky, even a little patch of wetness.

His cum is runny, leaving a slick residue as it slides along your skin, and an opaque, creamy color. It’s a little bit watery, but he likes the way it looks when it’s on you. It doesn’t taste too bad, but it is a bit salty, though it’s manageable to have in your mouth or to swallow. He dribbles, leaking out of his tip and sliding down his shift while he moans. He needs stimulation throughout his orgasm, and likes when you gently squeeze at his balls, the dull pleasure making his toes curl and prolonging his finish, so that you get every last drop of cum he can give you. He’s a bit whiny when he finishes, his voice higher pitched than normal, and his eyes squeeze shut, eyebrows drawn taut because it feels too good. His abs visibly flutter when he finishes, the muscles contracting and squeezing, while he tilts his chin back and tries to hump at whatever is still touching him. He really likes to finish on your face; seeing you painted in him makes him horny all over again, his cock springing to life mere minutes later because fuck, you look good covered in his cum. He also has a thing for finishes on your pussy, with you spreading the cute little lips so that he can see your clenched hole, his cum looking perfect all smeared across your thighs and folds.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you ride him. He likes the way you clench him, the feeling different than every other way he fucks you. He likes when you go nice and slow, dragging your walls up and down his length, massaging the sensitive skin and making him grip onto your thighs. The way your ass feels as it claps down onto his balls with every downwards motion makes his head spin, and more often than not his hips will try to chase yours as you move upwards, desperate to keep himself inside you. He likes this position because there’s something about the way you look above him that gets him throbbing inside of you, your pretty tits on full display and easy to grab onto, bouncing in his face when you suddenly pick up the speed near the end. He likes to grab onto them, clutching on tight while you work him up and down, fucking him so impossibly deep that he swears he’s in your stomach, all the while you squeeze down on him harder and harder and harder. Atsumu likes when you alternate between thrusting and grinding, swirling your hips in circular motions and giving him a break when he thinks he’s too close to coming. Something about the motion feels good, and the way your face gets all screwed up in pleasure when you grind his tip against the spongy spot inside you makes precum ooze out of his tip and into you in copious amounts. He just likes when you ride him, kissing him and thumbing his nipples, even reaching behind you to grope at his balls. He comes harder that way, everything slowly dripping out around the both of you and coating his cock as you just keep going.

He’s a little over five inches; a nice, solid cock. It’s the perfect size to fill you up, stretching you out and making you hiss ever so slightly when he pushes into you, but not too much to hurt – he’s truly the perfect fit. He has this strange tendency of kind of man handling it; his calloused fingers will often grip himself at the base, running his tip through your folds or smacking your clit with it, liking the way you’re so soft and warm against him. He’s unfortunately not especially sensitive, so it takes him a while to come, but he actually kind of likes it because it makes him last a lot longer in bed, and he can multitask better. (It makes his thumb sneaking down to circle at your clit while he fucks you with your leg over his shoulder easier, more of his focus going into the movement so he can get tight, controlled figure eights against your sensitive bud and make you tremble.) Ironically, after he’s come he’s much more sensitive – he’s easily overstimulated and has to pull out immediately, otherwise his legs start shaking and his grunts become more like moans.

He’s a shooter, cock twitching with every spurt that splatters against you, contracting in time with his abs. It’s thick; when you rub it between your fingers it’s slimy, and smells like musk and an odd undertone of sweetness. It actually tastes good, or as good as it can get, all thanks to his diet – it makes you want to take him in your mouth, to suck the cum off your fingers, and while it still makes Osamu flush a bit every time you hum in content, he likes it. Especially when you have a drop or two still on your lip, dribbling down your chin, making you look so dirty. He’s a grunter, the sounds deeps and guttural, starting in the bottom of his chest and climbing up and up. Tends to grunt your name as he gets close, the letters blurring together until he’s slurring it out, melding it into one word that eventually just turns into a strangled nghh noise. His hips buck up when he comes, often times unexpectedly, which can sometimes choke you a bit if he’s in your mouth, or get you yelping as he reaches just a bit deeper inside you when he’s stuffed into your little cunt.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you cockwarm him. He likes mixing sex and domesticity, and he likes having you perched in his lap, cunt all stuffed with him while your arms are around his shoulders, face buried comfortably in his neck. He likes to do paperwork while you warm him, his cheeks a slight red while the pen flies across the page, his free hand parked securely on your ass. He likes the way your walls clamp down on him, all warm and wet and soft, and because he’s not that sensitive, sometimes he’ll even forget he’s inside you until one of you moves, and oh – The shocked little groan he lets out will have you keening and grinding down on him, desperate for him to just fuck you. Osamu likes to see how long he can hold out – how long you can hold out – but most of the time these little sessions end with you bent over his desk, ass bare face pressed into his paperwork while he pounds into you like a man possessed. He even likes to cockwarm in softer, sweeter settings – watching a movie together, with the blanket thrown over you and your cunt sucking him in, his balls sitting tightly against your ass while you laugh at the movie, his eyes on you and his mind fixating on the way your every chuckle makes you clench, so that you’re even tighter, something that makes his fingers dig into your sides. Even these sessions end with fucking – he just has to have you once he’s been inside you for hours already.

#yandere haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #_lee's headcannons #_inarizaki #_atsumu miya #_osamu miya #_rintarou suna #_aran ojiro #_shinsuke kita #_haikyuu

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ilylovelyz · 9 months

Note

hi! read their past sakusa fics and the way they write kiyo is so hot and nice 😩 wondering if they could write more abt yandere / bully sakusa fics (or anyone in msby or all of them tgt tbh JSJJS) 😭

⍣ ೋ BEcause

˚ · . atsumu x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ warning(s): noncon, gaslighting, manipulation, lovebombing, physical assault, physical and mental abuse, atsumu is a terrible person, cheating, forced solitude, baby trapping

until a man heals himself he'll be toxic to every woman who tries to love him.

yandere!atsumu, from the moment he met you, knew that you would be the absolute death of him.

yandere!atsumu, who verbally claimed you as his to anyone who could hear. a "cheerful" facade on his face while he boasted about you as if you were his girlfriend.

yandere!atsumu, who acted all understanding and almost apologetic to a guy that seemed to have a crush on you. he would pat the guy's back a little too hard, lightly giving him a "sorry, but i think she's taken." veins almost protruding out of his neck while he resisting the urge to choke out the guy just for showing interest in you.

yandere!atsumu, who is surprised when you confront him for spreading rumors about you, accusing him of being a creep. but you're quickly turned from being livid to blushing, as his charisma and charming demeanor is all too much for you. he apologizes for his actions, but denies the majority of it. as a way to make up for it, he formally asks you out to an expensive dinner.

yandere!atsumu, who violently assaults the whistleblower, not caring if it's a man or woman. he'll ram their head into the wall and kick them a few times while they are down, bleeding profusely. he'll spit on them as a cherry on top, condemning them to hell for snitching.

yandere!atsumu, who will act surprised when you point out his bruised knuckles, will literally say "how did this happen?" he'll brush off your concerns, and try to avoid using his hands the rest of the night.

yandere!atsumu, who even during the talking stage, is completely protective towards you and is hostile to anyone who even dares to talk to you. he'll act so sad and upset that nobody wants to be your friend anymore, comforting you when you cry that your own male best friend isn't talking to you anymore for some reason.

yandere!atsumu, who follows you home "just in case," memorizing your pad-code lock password and will eventually break in later that night, watching you while you sleep, "just in case."

yandere!atsumu, who walks around carefree in your house while you sleep, cleaning for you but also eating your leftovers. just for an extra measure, he'll bug your phone and send a text message to any remaining friends, saying that "you" don't want to be friends with them anymore, leaving nasty messages that will end up with you finding yourself blocked later that morning.

yandere!atsumu, who will kiss you so lovingly on after the sixth date, and ask you to be his official girlfriend. he feels relieved when you say yes, relieved that he won't have to beat common sense into you and guilt trip you into accepting.

yandere!atsumu, who will later jack off just at of the first kiss, mind already spinning at the thought of what he could do to you now that you're dating him.

yandere!atsumu who treats you and touches you as if you're glass, always "looking out" for you. you think his grip on your wrist is adorable, that his protectiveness is "cute." but really, he's just making sure that you're not going to run off or something.

yandere!atsumu who takes your virginity, and is absolutely doting and attentive the whole time, kissing you softly and whispering small "i love you"s against your skin. you don't notice the way his grip on your waist is bruising as he thrusts his cock in you so deliciously it has you coming multiple times. you don't notice the way his eyes are almost dead, jaw clenching at the thought of "someone else" potentially touching you after this.

yandere!atsumu, after successfully getting you attached to him will begin to show his true colors. the dates you two planned in advance seemingly "forgotten" by the pro volleyball player, as he's apparently so "busy" that he completely missed the date.

yandere!atsumu, who was really "busy" fucking some other woman while you waited patiently for him, food cold and ice melted.

yandere!atsumu, who will put the blame on you when you finally confront him about all the dates he's stood you up on and the way he's been distant and almost brushing you off everytime you text him. he'll call you manipulative and controlling, he doesn't like yelling at you, but it seems you needed to have a bit of an attitude check that day.

yandere!atsumu, who will only "forgive you" when you're on your knees begging for his forgiveness and apologizing for being "manipulative" and "controlling". he'll kneel down to your level, his face is morphed into one of concern, but his dark eyes say otherwise. he'll "forgive" you for the mess you created before taking a cold shower to relieve himself.

yandere!atsumu, who will realize that you're much of a tougher cookie than he thought when you confronted him with evidence of him cheating.

yandere!atsumu, who will slap you so hard you're tumbling down the steps of the apartment, the pain hitting you way before you realized what had happened. he'll grab you by your hair, dragging you across the rough floor and back up the stabbing steps of the staircase and eventually into the bedroom.

yandere!atsumu, who will force you into the bed and hold you down with his entire weight, yelling obscenities at you and threaten to kill himself if you try this shit ever again. he'll then remove all of your clothes, praising you because you're too scared to fight back when he forces himself onto you.

yandere!atsumu, who will point out the fact that he isn't using a condom and that you aren't on birth control. he'll ignore your cries of disapproval and pleas while he comes inside of you, unprotected.

yandere!atsumu, who will smirk down at you while you sob into the pillow, abused cunt leaking his cum, knowing you won't leave him if you're carrying his baby. who will you even run away to anyways? not like you have anyone left.

please like and repost with tags :)

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martellprincess-writes · 2 years

Text

0NE NATI0N UNDER BL00D AND H0NEY

SERIES MASTERLIST: HAIKYUU FULL-LENGTH FIC

synopsis. At an all-women's college, soldiers take siege during martial law.

aesthetics. psychological thriller, 80's/90's japan. haikyuu!! soldiers vs. female students, martial law, hostages, war-torn society, dark academia, stockholm syndrome, military AU, tragedy, loss, angst

warnings. EXTREMELY DARK CONTENT // 20+ // minors + under-20s DO NOT INTERACT please // NONCON // GRAPHIC CONTENT // PHYSICAL VIOLENCE // nsfw, abuse, twisted and toxic relationships, stockholm syndrome

pairing. various haikyuu boys x multiple f! characters

authors note. this is my attempt to bring more full-length fics to this fandom and to explore more depth with original female characters instead of x readers. one-shot x readers … i’m tired

auth. note 2. links go to ao3 because i’m not putting myself through the hell of posting a full fic on this site

status: ongoing

CHAPTER LIST ━━ ━━ ━━ ━━ ━━ ━━ ━━

01 ━━ WIND BEFORE THE STORM: AKAASHI, BOKUTO

02 ━━ WE'LL SAVE YOU: MATSUKAWA, IWAIZUMI

03 ━━ CALL US LUCKY: IWAIZUMI, MATSUKAWA, AKAASHI, DAICHI, MEIAN, ENNOSHITA

04 ━━ CAN'T SAVE YOU NOW: ENNOSHITA, OSAMU, KAGEYAMA, IWAIZUMI

05 ━━ NOWHERE TO CALL HOME: IWAIZUMI, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, DAICHI, AONE

06 ━━ SO MUCH INNOCENCE: ENNOSHITA, MATSUKAWA, BOKUTO, TANAKA, AKAASHI, ATSUMU

07 ━━ NIGHT HAS COME: BOKUTO, AKAASHI, TANAKA, ATSUMU, MEIAN, MATSUKAWA, OIKAWA

08 ━━ tbd

09 ━━ tbd

10 ━━

11 ━━

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu longfic #haikyuu x oc #hq x reader #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #daichi sawamura #oikawa tooru #tanaka ryuunosuke #osamu miya #hq smut #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou #meian shuugo #ennoshita chikara #miya atsumu #tw noncon #yandere haikyuu

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bunnykawa · 2 years

Text

bugbear (atsumu x f. reader)

summary: Atsumu swears that you’re up to no good. a/n: a concept sent in by an anon ages ago <3 loved the idea so much i decided to expand on it. AND YES I KNOW I’M HERE AFTER 2 YEARS OF INACTIVITY warnings/tags: 18+, yandere themes, noncon/dubcon/rape, cheating, manipulation, paranoia, gaslighting, toxic relationships, abusive language, violence, is this angsty? this is honestly just red flags everywhere

Atsumu feels like he’s going crazy.

He hates it, especially when you seem to be completely innocent. You’re living life normally, practicing your usual routine as you go about your day—and here’s poor Atsumu, wanting to rip his hair out beside you in bed every single damn night, desperately looking through your phone with bloodshot eyes for any evidence that he’s not the only one you’ve been with. How many times has he done this? He can’t count the amount of times even if he tried.

Yet every single time he snoops, he finds nothing. But there’s no doubt that you’re doing something. He knows it. It may seem like you’ve been the same as you have always been, but Atsumu knows.

He knows from how different your body has been moving recently. Maybe it’s the swing in your hips that seemed more pronounced than usual, making his stomach flutter and his crotch feel warm. He loves the way you move, but he knows that something is off with how you only move that way when you come home and when Atsumu has his teammates over. He grits his teeth every time he notices it and the only words that flash through his mind are why the fuck are you acting like that?

“You’re being ridiculous, ‘Tsumu!” you insisted, “I don’t understand where this is coming from all of a sudden!” Atsumu can’t force you to admit that you’ve been acting like a whore—he’s so damn frustrated that you won’t—so he can’t do anything else but stare you down as you prance around the apartment trying to seduce his teammates.

He knows from the way you speak, too. Why does your voice go up a pitch when you’re talking to his beloved twin brother? Osamu would never betray him like that, right? When he walked into your kitchen during a small hangout with his friends and you were giggling like a little school girl to whatever Osamu said (and he’s pretty sure that Osamu isn’t even that funny), Osamu just brushed it off and ignored how much more attentive you were, right?

“I am not flirting with your brother, ‘Tsumu!” you laughed it off like you always did, “You’re way more handsome than ‘Samu is!”

And he’s just forced to believe you? That you’ve actually been completely loyal to only him? When even Sakusa from his volleyball team, quiet and with the same social skills of a boring brick wall, has been eyeing you down whenever he comes over, and you’re acting like you /want/ him to fuck you? Sakusa—of all people—you want Sakusa Kiyoomi?

But you tell him that he’s being crazy. You don’t want anyone but him. Every little thing that he’s been picking up on, is him just misunderstanding the situation and letting his jealousy and insecurities get to him.

Why would you cheat on him in the first place when your lives are completely entwined to include each other on a daily basis? Why would you cheat on him when you love him so much that you get up early every morning to make breakfast for him? You would never ever in a million years even think of laying in bed with someone other than Atsumu. You love him.

“Atsumu, are you okay?” you ask, leaning comfortably on the armrest of the couch, dressed in nothing but one of his practice jerseys and your underwear. The lights are turned off in the living room, but Atsumu can see your figure because of the TV playing your favorite show. Atsumu is breathing heavily as he stares you down from the front door. The harshness of his gaze almost makes you flinch—still, you stay in place, awaiting his next move.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” he spits out with venom laced in his words. You look at him, shocked, so very confused, and slightly annoyed at his tone of voice because what the hell could he be talking about this time?

“What?” is what you were going to say.

Before you could say anything at all, the same shit that he’s heard countless times, Atsumu pulls you up by your hair, forcing a piercing scream from your lungs, and slams you on the tiled ground in front of the couch.

Your scalp burned from the sudden grip—it almost feels like he ripped your hair out of your head—but the worst pain was the pounding in the back of your skull. You can barely hear the TV anymore; the noises of your favorite show are drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

The whole place is spinning as you lay motionless on the ground for a few seconds, unable to comprehend what just happened to you. The pain is sharp and instantaneous. You're scared that if you move, you might hurt yourself even more and cause more damage.

You let out a wheezed breath as your eyes struggle to focus on anything. Atsumu stands over you, the left side of his face slightly illuminated by the TV. You’re surprised by how much hatred is present in his eyes—he used to look at you like you were all he ever had. But he’s tired of everything; the lies, the secrets, everything. He knows. He’s clenching his fists, observing your small movements, wondering if everything you were doing behind his back was worth it.

Atsumu gets down and kneels between your legs. He seems even bigger than you remember. You feel like you’re drowning as you look up at him, dazed from the impact. Weakness is engulfing your body and your throat is so heavy and everything is just getting blurrier and wow, he smells so good, like home despite what he just did to you—

And then you hear it. The air is suddenly so cold. The force of Atsumu’s strength lifts your hips up momentarily before you come crashing down on cold tiles. You hear the fabric of your panties rip away from your body and watch as it disappears behind Atsumu’s head. He’s fumbling with the drawstring of his shorts before he pushes them down, exposing his beautiful tanned skin.

“You deserve every fucked up thing that’s coming to you, you dirty bitch.”

But you don’t. His words fade into nothing as they echo in your mind.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”

Adrenaline begins to pump in your veins—every muscle in your body is telling you to run. Panic is settling in your chest. What is he trying to do?

Run away. This shouldn’t be happening to you. Atsumu is supposed to love you. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Run away. You don’t deserve this. You don't want this. Run the fuck away before he—

He pushes the tip of his cock between your folds and a burning sensation erupts at your entrance. Then for a second, everything goes quiet.

Everything feels familiar. Atsumu and you lock eyes, like you used to do in such an intimate position like this. You're suddenly aware that his hands are on both sides of your head, supporting his weight above you. He would usually give you a kiss on your forehead before he would fuck you so hard and make you cum all over him and leave you legs pathetically shaking. God, you want to cry. You want to yell in his stupid face and fuck him up and rip his hair out until his scalp burns like yours.

Atsumu always tells you he loves you. But if he loves you so much, then how the fuck did you end up in this position?

“Get off of me!” you scream at the top of your lungs. Your legs are kicking wildly, your hands are punching, slapping, scratching at whatever you can reach, your head is spinning more than you thought it would. The pain in your skull is unbearable. Atsumu hisses when your nails snag at his skin, definitely leaving a few marks across his cheek and neck.

But no matter what you do, you can’t stop him. Atsumu grabs your wrists and pins them down to the floor. You’re sobbing uncontrollably as he overpowers you. You cry louder, “Stop! Fucking stop!”

Then he forces himself inside you.

Completely.

It’s another sharp pain that pierces through your core and makes your body jerk violently. You’re trying to hopelessly pull away from him.

But he still smells like home. And it makes your stomach churn in so much disgust that you feel like you could throw up. Atsumu pulls his hand back and smacks you in the face, forcing your head to the side. He holds you down once again, but this time it’s by your throat.

At this point, you’d be better off dead. A part of you is praying that he would just end your life already. But his grip isn’t hard enough to kill you, and instead of tightening his fingers around your fragile neck—

He starts moving. Slowly, painfully, his cock invade your insides, filling you up inch by inch, and then pulling out until you feel empty again. You feel relief for a moment, until he fills you back up again.

And again.

“Please,” you gasp. You hold onto his hands around your neck. Your body is attempting to move away instinctually, but you can’t. It’s a fucking nightmare. You feel so raw on the inside as he tears you apart.

“I don’t wanna hear nothin’ from you anymore,” he says through gritted teeth, tightening his grip around your neck. And when Atsumu quickens his speed, you feel your brain turning into mush.

It’s all your fault. The memories are flooding back in, even if you’ve tried to hold them back. It’s hard to forget.

Osamu was fun. Although seemingly quieter than Atsumu at first glance, he was just as chaotic as his twin. They were basically built the same. Same face, same muscles, same level of attractiveness that you wanted to take a bite out of.

He even knew how to cook! You couldn't help it. Once he brushed his hand across your waist while passing by you that one day he came over to visit—fuck, it was impossible to resist. It was like laying with Atsumu, but it was still so different.

There was just something so, so delicious about being on top of Osamu while he squeezed your ass, slamming you down onto his cock. You found out how different Osamu really was from his twin that day.

Your cunt tightens around Atsumu’s thick cock involuntarily.

What’s wrong with you?

It’s suddenly becoming easier for Atsumu to move inside you. He watches as your lips begin to part and your eyelids droop again. The wetness coming from you is pooling around the base of his shaft in a sticky mess.

Sakusa was fun, too. For someone so stoic and distant from most people, who avoided crowds as if they were the bane of his existence, he had no issues getting closer to you. Wide shoulders, tiny waist—the excitement you felt as you ran your fingers across his hard chest was something you’ve never felt before.

It was exhilarating—his hands felt so good around your throat while he was on top, pounding his cock into your cunt like you were nothing but a pussy, a pair of tits, and some legs. Underneath that face mask was a man who truly knew how to treat a woman.

It felt good.

In fact, it feels good.

It feels so fucking good.

“Are- Are you fuckin’ likin’ this?” Atsumu asks, narrowing his brown eyes at you. His voice brings you back to reality—that’s when you realize that he slowed his movements down to a halt and his hands were no longer around your neck, but back to where they used to be. Yes, your head was pounding. Yes, your entire body was hurting. Yes, you were absolutely guilty of everything Atsumu was accusing you of.

But, fuck, did Atsumu’s cock feel better than anything in the world right now, pulsating deep in your pussy and covered in your cream. You shiver as the cold air hits the wetness spread on your thighs.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, although it hurt to even speak. He was gobsmacked, looking down at your trembling figure and seeing the despair in your eyes. His heart is almost beating out of his chest.

“What?”

Cries begin to fall from your lips. With all your energy, you grab onto his forearms and try to pull him down towards you.

“Fuck me!” you beg, clawing at him, “Please! Please, ‘Tsumu. I’m so sorry. Just fuck me.”

He hasn’t heard you beg like this in so long. Despite how fucked up the situation was dawning on him, he realizes that he still misses you.

“What the hell,” he mutters under his breath before he grabs you by your hips and starts to plow into your heat with most of his strength. You’re so hot down there—your body heat is burning his cock up and making him want to absolutely destroy you. Atsumu’s cock is so deep inside you that it kisses the entrance of your swollen cervix, forcing another scream out of you followed by a sickening moan that sends shivers down his spine.

“Your pussy is chokin’ the fuck outta my cock,” he hisses.

You’re moaning his name with every inch of your soul. The pleasure is almost unbearable. Your insides are convulsing with every thrust and the tightness is forming in your insides. Every time the base of his cock meets your cunt, you begin to squeeze and clench your muscles, desperate for him to fill you up.

“Fuck, it’s so good, ‘Tsumu,” you moan, “I love you. I love your cock.” The stretch is absolutely tantalizing—your tongue is lolling out between your lips and your eyes are rolling to the back of your head.

Your words are sticking to his brain and it makes his chest ache. His head dips low, but the drops of water on your chest expose his feelings. Atsumu was always in touch with his emotions, but you barely saw him cry. He begins to slow down again and you really wish that he would just keep going.

“Is that what you said to them, too?” he whispered, biting his lip to stop himself from breaking down. You shake your head and lightly smack his forearms.

“Keep-,” you suck in a breath, “going. Please. I need to cum.”

“But you still fucked ‘em like I mean nothin’ to you.” His bottom lip is shaking now. But you…you don’t care. For fuck’s sake, Atsumu. Your high is so close, you want to cry yourself.

He continues to ramble about how much he loves you, how he would do anything for you, that nothing hurts more than finding out he was right about everything, wanting it to all be fake until Osamu and Sakusa were laughing about something and he overheard them—

“I didn’t cheat!” you weep, tears streaming down your cheeks and making you sticky. Everything is so sticky. “Why the fuck are you stopping?! I wanna cum! I promise I didn’t cheat on you!”

Lying through your own damn teeth. Atsumu doesn’t believe you anymore—you’re a liar, no matter what you say in an attempt to convince him. But how can he ever let you go? He physically hurt you in his blind rage, said disgusting things to you, took you without your consent—the realization overcomes him and he shivers in repugnance, putting his face into his hands.

You cheated. It’s a fact that you think of and fantasize about every single day. It’s something that has rotted Atsumu’s brain into anger, hatred, and resentment. He was never enough for you. You always had your eyes set on other men, yet you stayed with him, torturing his very existence.

“You’re such a fuckin’ slut,” he sobs, “but I still love you. You’re everythin’ to me.” Then he bends down, grabs you, and holds you close to him with his fingers weaving through your hair. You can’t remember the last time he held you like this.

The sudden influx of emotions washes over you wildly. Your head still hurts. Your world is spinning with terrible confusion, but at the same time—

Exhaustion. Shame. Guilt.

“I’m sorry.” His tears are soaking your hair. Strands are sticking to the side of your face. His heaves are violent and you can feel every shake of his body against yours. He almost sounds like the Atsumu he used to be. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

Then he continues his assault on your cunt, ravaging your insides until you’re squirting, drenching him in your juices and creating a mess on your floor. You’re crying out for him, squeezing his biceps tight and allowing the pleasure to finally overcome your entire being. It’s quick—it knocked the wind out of you—but it’s enough for peace to cloud your brain.

He sticks his face in the crevice of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent mixed with sweat and tears. You’re still home to him.

And as he stuffs his face into your neck, you sigh deeply.

Relief.

#haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #yandere haikyuu oneshots #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya smut #miya atsumu smut #atsumu #yandere haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu imagines

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bettermiya · 1 year

Text

Dinner Guest

Pairing: Osamu Miya x AFAB!Reader

WC: 2.8k words.

Triggers: Cannibalism, Abusive Ex, Nonconsensual Drugging, Consensual Handjob, Human Butchering against an NPC, Violence, Blood. MDNI. 18+.

Summary: Osamu offers you a perfect meal. Horror!AU. Hannibal-esque!AU.

You get home from work exhausted, but the smell coming from the kitchen is enough to wash away some of the day’s stresses. You drop your things off by the front door and slip off your shoes- you’ll get everything put into its proper place later. Right now, the aroma from the kitchen is drawing you in like one of those cartoons, a beckoning finger that pulls you forward until you are practically on top of Osamu.

“What are you making for dinner?” You peer around his broad frame to stare at the pots and pans on the stove. The smell is divine. Osamu turns to you and presses a kiss into your hair.

“Hayashi rice.” He says, letting his face linger against your head for a few moments as he takes in your scent. “It’s almost ready. Go sit, I’ll bring it over to the table.” He lightly nudges you with his hip before going back to his cooking. You linger a moment, mouth watering while he tends to the meat and sauce. He gives a small huff of a laugh and uses his chopsticks to cut free a tiny corner of meat- it’s so tender that it easily gives way. After carefully dipping it in the sauce, he cups a hand beneath the gently steaming morsel and offers it to you. As you lean in, so does he, and he meets your eyes as he gently blows on the hot food.

“Open, darlin’.”

You do, and he eases the food into your awaiting mouth. A bit of the sauce drips onto your chin, but you hardly notice. You’re melting with the warm, comforting bite. Osamu notices, however, and before you can step away to go to the dining room, he brushes his tongue slowly over your skin. Warmth spreads through the rest of your body as the tip of his tongue teases your lower lip. You lean closer, expecting a kiss, but he pulls away with a grin. “That’s all yer gettin’ for now. Go get settled ‘n get off yer feet. I’ll be done soon.”

The apartment you share with Osamu is open and spacious. You pad on sock feet from Osamu’s kingdom of ranges and spices and knife blocks into the adjoined dining room with its intimate, small table already set for two. There are candles glowing on either side of a beautiful centerpiece of fresh flowers. You take in their subtle perfume as you finally pull out your chair and take a seat. As you sit there, you close your eyes, thinking you’ll rest them just for a moment while you wait for Osamu.

You are awakened by the aroma of the rice and beef and the dark demi-glace and the sensation of Osamu’s breath against your neck. He has pulled his chair very close to yours. He kisses your jaw and nips at the lobe of your ear. Feeling a smile cross your face, you lift a hand to brush through his short hair. “Sorry. Work took a lot out of me today.”

“That’s alright, darlin’. I don’t mind. Ya look pretty when ya sleep.”

Dinner is a quiet affair. He asks you about your day in low tones in between taking bites of food and brushing his hand against your thigh and the small of your back. You are nodding by the time you finish, the stew of beef, carrots, onions, mushrooms sitting warm and comforting within your stomach. Though it’s a little embarrassing and you feel a bit guilty for not being able to stay awake long enough to spend the evening together sprawled on the couch like usual, you love the way he gathers you from the chair into his arms so easily and carries you back to bed.

His hands are strong and warm as they gently unbutton and slide away your clothes. He teases you with soft caresses and little kisses and dresses you again into a soft, clean shirt that smells of him. You try to groggily protest and ask for more attention from his mouth and hands, but he reminds you that you’ve had a hard day. “Sleep a little, and we’ll see.”

When you drift up from sleep, he is climbing into bed beside you, having finished cleaning up from dinner and changing into his own pajamas, which consist only of the soft pants of the set. You realize you are wearing his shirt that completes the set. It seems fitting. He curls up behind you, dragging you against his chest. His lips find the base of your neck, the curve of your shoulder; his teeth tug at the lobe of your ear. You’re still lingering in that hazy place between reality and dreams, sleep threatening to pull you back into its embrace.

One of his strong hands nudges up the hem of the shirt you’re wearing and glides along the plains of your bare stomach. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your underwear and gently tease the warmth between your thighs. You drift back to sleep riding waves of pleasure. Your dreams are filled with his soft murmurs.

You wake up to the sound of a door slamming. Groggily, you grab your phone and check the time. The glow of the screen scatters spots across your field of vision; the blocky numbers tell you it is early in the morning. The space beside you on the bed still holds a bit of warmth from Osamu. He must have just gotten up to go to the restaurant. Sometimes he leaves in the wee hours of the morning to buy special ingredients from the markets- usually various cuts of meat he carries home in big, dark bags. You’ve asked before to go with him, but he says there’s no reason for you to get up so early when you work such long hours and besides, you don’t really want to see a bunch of animal carcasses being chopped up, do you?

Normally you sleep through his absence and by the time you wake, he is back with all of his meat neatly packed away in his large freezer box and he is in the kitchen preparing you breakfast. It’s very rare that you wake up with him still gone. He makes sure to tire you out enough so that you never have to be alone while you are home, or so he likes to say.

You sit up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, and rub at your heavy eyelids. You’re having a hard time keeping yourself awake, but you want to check on the loud slamming of the door. You’re pretty sure you can also hear heavy footfalls coming down the hall. Osamu is usually so quiet, especially when you’re sleeping. Your mind still feeling a bit hazy, you stand up and pad barefoot toward the bedroom door, only for it to be shoved open.

Fear pours over you like cold water. You still feel very foggy, but there is no mistaking the figure who is standing in the doorway. It’s your ex. You have no idea how they found you after all this time. You deleted all of your old social media. You changed your number. You moved in with Osamu in a completely different city. The apartment, the restaurant– everything is in his name. You even went through the trouble of changing your name legally to prevent this exact outcome.

Your mind is not working quickly enough. You open your mouth to dumbly ask how they found you, but before you can, they are storming forward and shoving you backward. You stagger, but manage to remain standing. Lifting both of your hands, you try to speak, but they strike you across the face so violently, stars burst across your vision and you drop to your knees. Pain flares in your knees and your head; you feel like your brain has rattled about in your skull. Blood is pooling in your mouth.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” They’re screaming obscenities. They kick you in the stomach, and a mixture of blood and saliva bursts from your mouth and sprinkles the carpet. Suddenly, they snatch a handful of your hair and drag you from the room. Your brain is finally beginning to catch up with what is happening. You scream and kick and grab for their hands, trying to make them release you.

They stop, and for one moment, you think maybe by some miracle, they will stop and listen to reason. Instead, they grab the side of your head and slam it into the wall. The fight goes out of you, and you are on the verge of losing consciousness as they begin pulling you again. You tilt back your head to look up at them, and see Osamu standing behind them. There is a strange look to his face, one you haven’t seen before. His eyes are cold and calculating, his jaw is tight. He lifts both of his hands and claps them together hard against your ex’s ears.

They drop you, and your head knocks against the tiled floor of the kitchen. You didn’t even realize they had dragged you this far. You can hear your ex screaming, but it sounds dull and far away. Turning your head, you watch as Osamu grabs them by the throat and easily lifts them up, slamming them down hard onto the pristine surface of the kitchen island. From where you are lying, you can’t see exactly what happens next. Osamu lifts a knife and it comes down; your ex stops screaming, but their legs, dangling over the edge of the island, are kicking wildly.

Osamu kneels down beside you and very tenderly cups the back of your head, lifting you into a sitting position. Your head is throbbing in time with the rhythm of your frantic heartbeat and the spinning and tilting of the room is making you very nauseous. “Can ya hear me, darlin’?” His voice is very low, very calm…. almost dangerously so.

You try to nod, but that makes your head hurt worse. “Yes.” You finally manage.

“I’m real sorry,” He murmurs, kissing your temple. His eyes linger on your mouth, where your busted lip is still leaking blood onto your chin. Cupping your jaw, he leans forward and brushes his tongue along your skin and lower lip, cleaning away the smear of red from your skin. “I thought I gave ya enough to let ya sleep through this whole nasty business.”

You look at him confused. He lifts you up and sits you down in one of the dining room chairs. You can still see into the kitchen. Your ex is grabbing at the knife, which is sticking out of the middle of his throat. Your head is spinning. Everything feels just a bit unreal. Osamu steps away, but he returns quickly to your side, pressing a towel with ice inside against the back of your head. He lifts your hand and presses it to the towel. “Hold this here.” You nod and hold it.

“What did you mean before…?”

“Mm… I put something in yer drink tonight. Just somethin’ to help ya sleep. I thought it’d be enough to keep ya sleepin’ til I was done with…,” He stood up and walked over to your ex, whose struggling seems to be growing more sluggish. “Ya see, I told ‘em where to find us… the plan was to take care of ‘em without ya havin’ to be involved, but… things didn’t quite go as I planned. S’okay, though, darlin’... y’all never have to worry about ‘em ever again.”

Your mind is slow to comprehend what is happening. You watch Osamu pull free the knife, see the spray of blood arc upward like a fountain. You blink, slowly, and when you open your eyes again, you see the flash of a large cleaver. Things unfold before you in hazy flashes. Your ex’s head disappears from the counter. Osamu methodically begins butchering the body. Cuts of meat are wrapped and bound together with twine. The various cuts of meat are stacked neatly together. Osamu hums as he works. This all feels like a dream… a strange nightmare. He comes to check on you off and on during his work.

He takes away the ice and towel. His lips brush against your brow. Kneeling in front of you, he takes your hands and kisses your palms, the tips of your fingers. “Are ya feelin’ okay?”

Your head is still hurting, but the nausea has gone away. It must be the shock and the ice you had been holding to your battered head- you’re shivering. He touches your cheek. You are staring at the neat, wrapped packages that had once been your ex, but the fear and revulsion you should be feeling are not there. Not yet. Osamu stands again and moves back into the kitchen.

Over the next few minutes, he carries everything from the kitchen to the large freezer. “We’ll have a lovely feast when yer feelin’ better.” He promises. When he’s done, he scoops you up and carries you back to bed. After tucking you in, he kisses your forehead.

“Try to rest. I’ll keep a check on ya.”

You wake late the next day to the smell of breakfast. Osamu sets a tray beside you on the bed. There is miso soup, rice, and strips of meat. Your gaze lingers on the meat, thinking back to the strange dream you had the previous night. It must have been a dream. It couldn’t have been real, and it all seems so strange and hazy in the warm glow of the sunlight spilling into the bedroom. Osamu smiles and strokes your cheek. “I hope yer hungry.”

You eat. He watches, smiling calmly the entire time. His hand is stroking your bare thigh while you eat. When you’re done, he offers soft words of praise and draws you into his lap. You are more awake now with the full breakfast settling nicely in your stomach. The previous night begins to come into more focus. You remember the blood… you remember the meat… you think hard about the taste of the cooked meat and rice and soup on your tongue.

But his hand is drifting down… down… teasing and working between your legs while his mouth tastes your skin…

You stop thinking so hard and lose yourself in the touch… the taste…

“Yer such a good girl,” He murmurs into your neck, his voice a low rumble at the back of his throat. His touch is slow at first, a steady stroking in lazy circles. You lose track of your thoughts. Your awareness is shrinking; all you can focus on is his finger tracing those careful loops between your legs. You try to help him along by arching your hips into his hand, but he hums against your skin and gently lowers you back onto the bed. He leans over you, his hand still moving so slowly and deliberately.

“There’s no need to rush,” He says, moving his mouth to yours. His teeth catch your lower lip and scrape against the still tender flesh there. You taste a bit of your own blood, and so does he as his tongue slides into your mouth. His finger presses deeper, slowly. Your back arches. Heat is pooling in your abdomen. His finger eases back, circles. He breaks the kiss before his finger slides in again so he can hear the low moan escape your bloodied lips. He hooks his other arm beneath your head, tugging you closer. The fingers of his free hand curl beneath your jaw and tilt your head up while his thumb brushes over your lips.

He presses his thumb into your mouth, and as you run your tongue along his skin, he purrs. “Tha’s my girl.”

Two fingers now. They press into you slowly, deeply. You whimper around the thumb in your mouth as your hips arch upward into his touch. His teeth mark the skin where your neck and shoulder meet; he sucks and licks the place where he bites. He allows your hips to rise against his hand while he teases you, his fingers moving in and out in a steady rhythm. You are panting, gasping, bucking against him. This time, when his fingers slide in, he hooks them and strokes as you cry out.

Your body is quivering. Your thoughts have scattered. There was something you were thinking of, but his hands, his mouth… his tongue… his teeth… you can barely focus on anything other than the sparks of heat and pleasure in the places where he touches you. He turns your face toward him and kisses you as his fingers continue their work.

“I’m real proud of ya,” He says, his hot breath washing over your temple. His touch draws another shuddering cry from your lips. Your whole body is alight. You are beginning to tire, but he is relentless in his ministration. Again… again… your body arches into his hand… you gasp and tremble… you whimper…

When you are utterly spent, he slides his fingers free and brings them to his lips, running his tongue along them while he holds your gaze. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Delicious.”

#osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #osamu x reader #yandere haikyuu #written by iwachan

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