#yandere miya osamu x reader

[seijorhi]

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.”

[chattemagique]

tw: mostly fluff, slightly suggestive, man is weirdly jealous about your lower stomach, fem! bodied reader, all characters are 18+

men who are obsessed with your lower belly who find it so enticing and pretty, who never understood why would you even be insecure about it when it literally drives them crazy

he's never leaving a chance of placing his hand or gently grabbing onto it whenever you both are together, whether you're wearing something tight-fitting that's accentuating that lower part or your body or whether you are spooning together his hand always travels to it

God forbid you wear something cropped that exposes that part of your body, you're basically asking him to give more attention to it he might even start to think that it's because of his lack of affection to it you wore it so it would attract other people no! he wants to have it all to himself!

so let him compensate this time for all of the other moments when he hasn't given you enough love!

let him squeeze it, smooch it, caress it, grab it! it is just so precious!

it is just so adorable, so pretty, so squishy, the way it stands out on your body, how it's so soft and warm, appealing to him

he loves to place tender kisses on it, sometimes leaving a hickey, when he's feeling extra freaky

his hand always serves as a heat pad for your belly whenever you are on your period that's strangely brings you sense of comfort and security

just as you lay in bed after long day you can expect his hand crawling into your lap, gently embracing your lower stomach as he's whispering sweet nothings to your ear as you both fall asleep

( ˘ ³˘)♥ kuroo tesurou, tendou satori, hinata shoyo, suna rintarou, osamu miya, eijiro kirishima, bakugo katsuki, hawks, tomura shigaraki, choso kamo, yuuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, kyojuro rengoku, sanemi shinazugawa, genya shinazugawa, tanjiro kamado, inosuke hashibira, douma, akaza, gyutaro, denji

[queenof-curses]

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.

[yandere-sins]

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 ♥♥♥

[tsunaaism]

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | Miya Twins.

"Such prowess; such beauty... are not for humans to witness."

Pairings: Immortal!Reader x Miya Atsumu x Miya Osamu

Genre: Fantasy, Mystery.

Words: 970

Warnings: A little, teeny-tiny bit suggestive.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 (you're here.)

The night is empty. Silence engulfs the forest; the atmosphere is devoid of anything but the waterfall’s stream. Gravel crunches beneath your feet, jagged edges threatening to tear. Freezing water pours over your form, the flow cooling your mind.

The truth has always been there; not in hiding nor beneath a spotlight. Simply idling in your peripherals.

“It wasn’t ignorance.”

The waterfall continues to wash over your form as your voice lulls within the empty air.

“It’s indifference.”

Over the fact that you needed the imperial family—Shinsuke Kita and his father—his grandpas and his ancestors. You needed humans. Their thoughts. Their memories. Their desires—their prayers.

The waterfall’s crashes no longer resounds. Your eyes flutters open. The river had dried up, leaving the moonlight’s fragmented glow. A large basin of water circulates above your form. Your worries must’ve gotten to you. Slowly, they swirl around—flowing—returning to where they belong. As everything falls back into place, the river streams again.

Benjirō was someone you couldn’t have lived without. You took a deep breath, listening to the caws of the crows. A God created from words and desperation. From the half-assed drawing you had stuck on the civillians door thousands of years ago, and the thousands of battles you fought.

Simply a myth, and yet, he lives. He thrives.

But so do you.

If the famed war hero is forgotten, so would your existence. After all, immortality is a bliss; one every elusive beings of the world dreams of. When the actuality of a mythical being is forgotten—then the world erases them.

Ironic, right? Possessing unmatched knowledge and power, yet having to rely on the mere desires of humans—their selfish needs.

The caws of the crows morphs into the swallows chirps. The forest glows a yellow hue. You sigh, ending your meditation this night. The water sloshes in your leave, no traces of you within the forest.

Ah, yes. Back home.

Except it’s all over the place.

Papers littered over the engawa. Ink spills over the fallen table and wooden floor. Only darkness was palpable inside—as if an endless tunnel. A smudged drag of blood stops near the opening of the door. The small sparrow twitches, trying to salvage whatever bit of life it has.  

It has only been a day since you left.

Slow footsteps ring in your ears. But far—faraway. Almost as if they’re hidden deep inside the house. The scent of burnt incense mingles with an animalic odor. You feel blood rushing through your heart, beating slower… and slower.

Yōkais. You were right.

“You are scared.” You walk closer to the sparrow, scooping the carcass into your hand, “Both of you.”

You placed it on an untainted paper.

“I don’t like when someone turns my home into a nest, you know?”

You step inside. Still, nothing but pitch black darkness. It reeks of musk and blood.

“Especially when it smells like foxes.”

A screech echoes. A deep growl follows. You suppose all Kitsunes hated to be called foxes. The word does sound domesticating.

From far, faraway—a lantern-lit figure walks to you. Slowly. Almost drifting. You smile. The structure of the house is gone, replaced by an endless dark void. No traces of the door you stepped into.

“Lady.” A mature, masculine figure drifts closer. Yellowed hair flows like burning ember. He smiles beneath his ironically fox-shaped mask. You stifle a laugh.

“—Or should I say,” A whisper’s warm breath looms behind your ear. Its sudden appearance doesn’t bother you. The fox with the lantern inches closer, now standing idly in front of you.

“Child of Vaiśravaṇa.”

“Fragment of Bishamonten.”

Both whispers in unison, dangerously close.

“You’re the one.” A thin, sharp claw draws circle behind your neck, “Who should come home.”

“I am home.” You muse, “I am everywhere.”

“Is that so?” The blonde kitsune raises his lantern. Light glints upon his hazel eyes, “Yet, you co-exist. Helped humans. Are you.. dying? Has the… Ōmikami rejected you?”

“Or have you… rejected the Gods?”

“Such power,” The sharp claw continues to glide over your back, almost tearing the fabric of your yukata, “Such prowess. Such… beauty. Are not for humans to witness.”

Deftly, your hand cracked the wrists of the fox behind you. Within a blink of an eye, you flew over both of the Kitsune’s figure. They didn’t move, still adorning the smile they’ve always had on—even as a child.

“We know of your capability.” A chime echoes within the void, “We do not wish to fight, Lady.”

Yellow hair, grey hair. Which one is which, you wondered?

The grey kitsune healed his cracked wrist with a lick. His eyes pierces through you as he continues to fix his wounds.

“Insolent cats.” Your vision sharpened, “Take your masks off.”

Surprisingly, they do. With a snap, their masks fall, coming undone. Sharp eyes stare at your form. The rounded features of the faux children are long gone; replaced by strong, almost angelic features.

You scoff.

“Shapeshifting foxes.”

A familiar cold stings your hand, glowing red. Sparks of darkened electricity swirls around your fingers. You relished in the burn as the spear merges into your grip.

“What do you intend?” Your words echoes like a gale, “What dared you to deceive me?”

“Us?” A strong wind fills the void. Their claws sharpened. Light strikes your vision, the void flashing into an endless blooming forest. Pink petals sway in the air. The pungent scent of honeyed florals invades your lungs, as if a perfume masking the scent of blood.

Sun falls from crevices of the trees. Soft, mossy grass covered achres of rich soil. Flowers bloom at every wake of the Kitsunes movement. The green landscape moves—alive, singing. Rabbits and deers gathered, surrounding the foxes. They gaze to you.

“Come,”

“With us.”

@chaseyui @malinq-ashida @allykat7599 @underratedmage @dazaisfavgf @denkisclown @ku-ragee @officiallyjaehyuns @sabrina-senpai @zukiakiraa

Sorry for just continuing this after like.. three years. Hihi. Just got a break! Coming back to writing and continuing some stuffs very-very soon. Putting this out before laying out all da big guns 🫡.

[loeyslover]

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".

[colourstreakgryffin]

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”

[creative-crybaby]

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.

[bettermiya]

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.”

[saigethearies]

why do i feel like it would be lowkey easy to escape from yandere miyas like you could fr just wait until they get into their third fight of the day and just dip 💀 mfs be too busy punching each other to notice

[fanfic-gallery]

i have a question for my yandere haikyuu enjoyers...

[shaisuki]

— NO SUNLIGHT FOR THE CAGED

ENTRY #002 OF SHAISUKI'S KINKTOBER 2023

FT. YAKUZA! OSAMU MIYA + SHIBARI

— shibari is a japanese style of bondage, it's known as a kink but it's more than that. It's a kind of art, while tying the rope around someone's body you're making different patterns and connecting with that person.

• pairing: osamu miya x chubby reader

• content warnings: yakuza au, yandere themes, pwp, shibari (bondage), dark themes, reader is a bastard, power imbalances, noncon, dubcon.

freedom is what you yearned for a long time but osamu miya won't let you get the freedom you deserved, now you belong to him.

days are gone in the blink of an eye while you stare at the spacious garden. walking in the same hallways was different.

it seems like yesterday with you and the the twins were frolicking there. spent playing the game of tag and gawking at the koi fishes swimming — tails swishing, creating ripples in the pond.

now there's no love nor fondness thinking about it. memories about being a child gives the illusion of being happy without a care in the world. temporarily.

as a child you thought nothing would change. that atsumu and osamu would be still your dear friends. that they will be the the same people you'll grow up with. you love them wholeheartedly. never did it crossed your mind one day, your dear tsumu and samu would change. you came to terms of it. they were meant to be that day as the next head of the miya clan and you — a bastard have no place for it.

and who are you to complain, you were born a bastard after all. in the world where family matters the most and influenced a organization, bastards like you have no place for it. maybe if you were born male, your father would maybe favor you a bit and that would been fine — you would have a purpose.

instead you were born a woman. engraved with the roles that you are nothing without men. that you will have value of being a wife, a mother and you don't want that. clinging to a hope that someday you will live a long, fulfilling life and escaping this place would be the first step on making that true, achieving the life you wanted. counting the days until you'll know what freedom is.

the halls were empty. where only shadows of a gleeful childhood witnessed the laughter and squeals of once lively halls. a remnant of the past that you will never see again.

“there's nothing for me here.” you would whisper where only the walls could hear you.

it all began when the twins grew distant of you. as heirs they are being prepared of the duties and responsibilities they would take once their father would step down as being the head of the miya clan.

atsumu was the first then osamu. you didn't knew atsumu for the first time he mocked you and reminded of your place. his voice tearing your heart apart. his disdain and disappointment were made for you and osamu, although he didn't say a word. his gaze tells otherwise. atsumu would snarl at you but osamu would look at you once, twice and a shrug is enough to tear your heart in shreds. the regret and disgust for meeting you, for simply existing. a nobody in his life.

what affection and sincere smile were long gone, replaced with the nasty remarks and the jeers. passing in the hallways only to get shoved or not ignored, not even once needed the memories of the bond shared.

it won't be long. you say to yourself. you needed a plan to escape this place. without looking back. a new life for yourself. free from the duties that is forced to you. a freedom for yourself.

watching the hands of the clock ticks by left you restless. a few belongings packed safely in your bag. you didn't have much, a few trinkets and such. tucked away in the corner of your room. a few more hours and freedom. you needed to tend things with the gathering of the constituents and allies of the miya clan tonight and after that, you are free. they wouldn't notice you. a nobody.

their noisy cheers and not so discreet of plans echoed in the common room along in the hallways. your father was also there. who had no interest to his bastard of a daughter.not even batting an eyelash as his daughter poured warm sake in his cup. downing it with eagerness and going back to their conversation. you continued to serve them along with the hope that you will be free tonight.

your heart pounds along with your sharp intakes of breath. come on now. it's now or never. you don't need to dwell yourself in trivial things. they were going to be too drunk or wouldn't give a care to you leaving. they could easily replace you.

this is the time while you leave in the back, you can see the tori as you approach getting bigger. this is it. when you walked past in that tori you will be free.

“where do you think yer going?”

don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.don't look back.

you don't want to look and only to find samu's gaze staring at you. maybe, you could look at those eyes of his. it's been years since you've look at them and seeing it would be goodbye. a farewell.

turning around, clutching your bag in your hands. you face him, looking straight in his eyes. not even acknowledging how handsome he is in his black montsuki.

“away from here.”

“i didn't take you for being stupid. what made you think that yer leaving this place? how stupid.”

grey eyes twinkles in amusement. watching as your body squirm while the ropes tightens in your limbs. finally, he can use this skills he acquired from a long time ago. giving purpose to his fondness of ropes and to you.

he would be much gentler to you. if it weren't the act of you leaving him. how stupid for you to leave him. to think you have the will to leave him and the snap of ropes hitting your skin is the kind of mark that breaks your skin. let the punishment fit the crime of trying to escape from his grasps.

“samu, please. i don't want any of this.” you pleaded.

he remained silent. his fingers weaving the rope like a spider to it's web. gliding the rope in your skin while you're sprawled in the floor. his hakama pooling in his waist. showing the dragon tattoos etched in his left arm and to his abdomen and chest. toned and leaned his body is. proudly showing you what he's made of as he manipulates the rope in his own will.

the younger miya keeps his eyes glazed to your supple body. the rope digging in your soft skin. tugging the ropes to create tension to your flesh. feel it. embrace it. there's no use how you wiggled your wrists. the more you try. the tighter the rope clings to your skin.

a work of art, he would say. your body tangled in the red ropes minus the squirming. satisfied with his handiwork. samu pulls the rig above you. your body rising above and he can see the panic in your eyes. it wouldn't let you down if that's what you think. stupid for you to think that it'll fall when this is all made for you to think that you knew all of him. it's a dumb claim for you that you will own him. that you will be able to manipulate him with a simple pout of your plump lips. long gone with all the games and he got you wrapped around his fingers.

you were suspended in the air. limbs aching and burning that you can't almost feel it. osamu walks around you. admiring his work, his gaze fell to your body bound by the bright, red ropes and he can finally take all the frustrations he felt for years. face devoid of any emotions and you're afraid when osamu's like this. far much worse than his older twin.

lips pursed into a thin line while his knuckles grazed the skin in your cheek. you didn't meet his gaze. recoiling upon the contact of his skin to your and that osamu didn't like it one bit.

patience thinning out at your stubbornness. osamu grasped your jaw before pulling it close to him. meeting his piercing gaze that leaves your soul trembling. it's all pure territorial with death awaiting to those who dares to enter. his breath tickling in your face.

“and where would you go?” he began to inquire you. “you hold no position. no name for yourself. no property for you to own. you are nothing. you—”

“i know!” you interrupt him and osamu didn't like being interrupted but he lets you. “i'm aware all of that. you don't need to remind and you should have let me —”

“go? I won't allow it. you belong here and no place on earth would replace that. even you're gone, i'll find you. you forgot how powerful i am — princess.” the nickname leaves you breathless. you forgot he calls you that besides your name and it made you smile a little, bitterly. your samu was still here.

“i should tie you up more often.” he says, adoring the work while his hands runs to the expanse of your body. “i wonder what sound you'll make if i do this.” he teases, pinching the hardened bud, earning a delicious moan coming from you and that made him chuckle. “where else? i know you were always a slut, princess.” pulling the rope a little tighter and he can see the indents in your skin.

“dripping wet, are we?” he taunts. rubbing your puffy, soaked folds with his fingers covered with your slick. “please, samu” you whined. begging for more friction. begging for him to give your neglected pussy with attention.

your resolution of escaping dissipating like bubbles. you can never escape samu and you're dream of freedom was a mere child's dream. you're bound to him.

“bad girls don't get to cum, princess. if you only submitted to me earlier i might have.” plunging his finger to your hole and the tears begin to pour from your eyes. pumping his fingers in a lazy manner before pulling it out. admiring his slick-covered fingers.

catching you in his arms before whispering. “don't ever think of leaving me again.” and you nod immediately.

you won't be seeing the sunlight again along with the freedom you desperately yearned for.

[yandere-sins]

Thanks for all the hard work you do! I really enjoy your Miya twins work! I was wondering what quality made them pursue that particular darling?

I thought about this for a while because generally saying, I don't think yandere always have a specific thing that makes them lock onto their darling. It's more a combination of a lot of things in certain situations, and suddenly everything comes together.

One thing that I can see intriguing the twins, though, would be passion.

If there's anything that has woven through their life like a red thread, it's that the two of them are passionate. Atsumu is passionate about volleyball (Osamu too, though he says not as much as his brother), Osamu is passionate food (at first it was pudding, then onigiri). And they've been really sticking to it and weaving this passion into their everyday life.

Along comes a darling that is passionate about anything. Even if there are people who say they are not passionate about anything, I honestly don't believe that there is a person who's not at least for a moment passionate about something, even if it's temporary or something simple like seeing a cat on the street.

If the twins happen to gaze upon their darling being caught up in a moment of passion (and yes, this could also just be a moment of lust), they might just fall for them right then and there as if the darling is the puzzle piece missing between the two of them. Passion does something to people. It makes their eyes glaze over with joy, excitement making their heart race. It's exhilarating and captivating for other people.

And thus, the darling creates a new passion in Atsumu and Osamu. One that would be hard to calm down unless they have their darling between them, right where they belong.

[chaepink]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Works in Progress! ❤ - 25

last updated: 11.29.23

- this only include requests I've received and not my own ideas - i can choose to write your request into a drabble instead of a full fic if i feel like i can't write it into a fic (or if you don't really specify)

disclaimer: i reserve the right to combine requests if they're similar

Haikyu!!

♡ tsukishima kei

bratty tsukishima w edging and overstim pls bae :)

Aha ay Can I request edging and overstimming Tsukki as punishment after a whole day of him being a brat? Maybe some dacryphilia if you're up for it Ty so much for your time! I love your work

♡ kenma kozume

Kenma as a part-time stripper? Or just a stripper please

♡ osamu miya & atsumu miya

Can I request one where we peg osamu in front of atsumu as punishment for being a brat, we just keep calling osamu a good boy while completely ignoring atsumu, and once we're done with osamu we pound the fuck out of atsumu 😫🙏

My Hero Academia

♡ midoriya izuku

Hey, Can you write for Midoriya with a mommy/Daddy Kink where Midoriya had a bad day and wants to be pampered

I AM BEGGING YOU TO WRITE ABOUT FEM!READER PUNISHING (SPANKING) A SENSITIVE AND SPOILED IZUKU MIDORIYA EVEN THO HES BEING THE GOODEST BOY AS ALWAYS

♡ iida tenya

can i have a iida being hit by sex pollen and reader helping him out please

request numero dos idk but iida with nipple piercings has me reeling. tbh the chance of him actually ever getting them is zero but he actually does and reader discovers them? hoo boy. Imagine he got them all for reader too

♡ dabi

hiii can i request a sugar baby!dabi x sugarmommy!reader were dabi weres the most sluttiest things every day just so people can compliment him and so that the reader punishes and fucks him everyday cause reader is possesive and is turned on by what he wears and dabi also trys to stick his ass almost everywere cause reader is an ass person

♡ shigaraki

hey I was wondering if you could write about sub tomura shigaraki whose a virgin and like being humiliated and degraded? Thanks&lt;3

Chainsaw Man

♡ aki

hi chae!! can i request a sub aki w bondage ? he'd look so good tied up ughngnng..,.,

♡ denji

can i request first time w denji??😊 he would be so pussy drunk n dumb n begging for more loorrrddd

Demon Slayer

♡ rengoku

hii so can you do a sub!rengoku x femdom!vampire reader one? details: y/n is having a bad day and rengoku wants to see whats up with her yk? and when hes finally sick of seeing her bottling all this anger up he wants her to take out her anger on him. Like he just offers her his neck with no hesitation yk? AAAA im down bad (pls include choking and her marking him as well)

Jujutsu Kaisen

♡ gojo satoru

If you're up for it, I have a request or a concept you're more than welcome to add on to or take away from! Please and thank you &lt;3 You know how Gojo thinks he's all that? He's rich, charming, and the greatest sorcerer. He should be worshiped and praised at all times for it, right? Basically, he's being annoying so you punish him by riding him and while acting tired and disinterested at the same time since he lives for attention and praise. It should totally eat him up the fact that you're not praising him for being a good boy, for making you feel good- paired with your lazy movements, pretty much edging him the whole time. You bet your ass he tears up when you fake yawn lmao

Bully reader with nerd virgin Gojo please

ALRIGHTALRIGHTALRIGHT- Can I request making Gojo keep a remote vibrator up his ass for a day. Like you'll go to meetings and missions with him while fuckin around with the remote kicking up the intensity to make him squirm and hold back moans.

Sub bully gojo like he was planning on fucking and bullying reader when the opposite went way? Like reader had enough of his bullshit and makes him cry and overstimulates him?

Can i request sub yandere Gojo hcs , him as a boyfriend

♡ sukuna

Request for fem!reader × sukuna. I'm sick of these fanfictions where a character humiliates, insults, changes and the reader accepts it with adoration. Why not put bully!sukuna in its place? It can be a Sukuna king or a Sukuna at school. Facesitting, strangulation or a strap that will make a Sukuna regret

♡ geto suguru

Hi! I'd like to request for something with Geto Suguru and dumbification please. How about a scenario where gn!reader (with yandere undertones if you're okay with that) gets jealous when Geto was just being too nice with someone else, and takes him home to fuck him roughly until he's drooling all over himself. <3 Thank you if you do this!

♡ megumi

Coyld u pls write megumi with dom and mean reader with mommy kink. Then the reader's overstimulating him till he cry or smthng. (Then there's a fluff in the end?)😭 LIKE PLLSSS

♡ toji

Hi I was the anon who asked about requests- may I request Toji being a brat so you edge him And if you're up for it some knifeplay too with his own cursed dagger Tysm in advance and I love your writing!!

♡ yandere

Could you write sub!yandere/dom!reader where the reader doesn't actually feel sexual attraction but likes to watch their reactions to things like overstim, edging, object insertion, toys, etc?

BABE ILY AND YOUR WORK PLS PLS CAN YOU MAKE MASC!DOM READER WITH A HAREM OF HEAD OVER HEELS YANDERE BOYS!! reader is teasing, cheeky, taunting, etc, yk the personality like a fox? Yeah! And reader is a experimentalist master who is a really addictive sadist? -love you♡♪

Just another brat Yandere w strict gn/m!dom🤭 look straps are very versatile too you know sizes…

[yanderecrazysie]

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.

[quirrrky]

HAIKYUU! CHARACTER x READER MASTERLIST

〔💖〕 AKAASHI KEIJI

〔💖〕 BOKUTO KOUTARO

when you thought it's unrequited

The boy is mine

Stupid Cupid - oneshot; accidental marriage, suggestive

〔💖〕 HIRUGAMI SACHIROU

〔💖〕 IWAIZUMI HAJIME

Mutual crush

Protective Iwaizumi

when you thought it's unrequited

〔💖〕 KUROO TETSUROU

〔💖〕 K : KAGEYAMA, KENMA, KITA

〔💖〕 MIYA TWINS

〔💖〕 OIKAWA TOORU

〔💖〕 S - T : SUGAWARA, TSUKISHIMA

〔💖〕 +++

✦ Late night drive date with Daichi ✦ Morning train rides with Aone

〔💖〕 COLLECTIVE

Just a dream - various

Sending them a dirty text in public - various characters!

Walking on you changing - various characters!

The Firsts with them - general headcanons!

Ride home (suggestive) - kuroo, oikawa, atsumu, osamu, kenma, tendou, iwaizumi, suna, konoha

Sharing a ride with them - various characters!

When you broke up w/ them - various characters!

Pocky Challenge - atsumu, osamu, kuroo, hirugami, kita, akaashi, kageyama, tsukishima

Romance - general headcanons!

Who would most likely - general headcanons!

Imageries to simp for - akaashi, atsumu, hirugami, kageyama, kenma, kita, kuroo, oikawa, osamu, sugawara, tsukishima

Choose your Yandere 1 ✧ 2 ✧  3 💮

Yandere: With s/o who doesn’t like anyone but them - Hinata, Yamaguchi, Asahi

🏛 — MUSEUM NAVIGATION