#yandere miya twins

[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.

[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.

[i-cant-sing]

🪴- I think we can all agree that yandere inarizaki volleyball team is the worst team to be apart of, you have the Miya twins, suna, kita, and Aran. Holy fuck is that a nightmare team to have yandere for you, even if it is just platonic yanderes.

Yes, majority of the team are like psychopaths. Maybe the Miya twins are like sadists, hell the whole team is probably. But not towards reader. No, they show their sadistic nature to everyone around you. They're not as coddling as Shiratorzawa is, but they're definitely very protective of you, and combine that with their sadism, you get- no friends or relationships.

There presence is suffocating, they're all drilling holes into you every time they stare, and they are very sneaky. VERY STEALTHY with the way they handle your friends and admirers or anyone who tries to take your attention.

At least Kita protects you from punishments and shit the Miya twins try to drag you into. Captain Kita guides his team and tells them to keep an eye out for you at all times, be it during school or when you're at home, someone is keeping track of all your activities.

Suna also protects you, straight up holds your wrist and jerks you back whenever a ball comes flying in your direction. He also tells the twins "no" when they try to drag you away and join them on their dangerous shenanigans. However, Suna also tells you to cut it out when you try to sneak away from the group or dont quit complaining about not wanting to be walked to and back from your apartment every single day.

[fanfic-gallery]

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

[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".

[higasugar]

Miya Osamu🍙🍙🍙

[a-tiny-teez]

Haikyuu

Karasuno

Hinata Shoyo

Kageyama Tobio

Asahi Azumane

Nishinoya Yu

Sugawara Koushi

Aoba Johsai

Oikawa Tooru

Iwaizumi Hajime

Nekoma

Kouzume Kenma

Kuroo Tetsuro

Haiba Lev

Fukurodani

Bokuto Koutaro

Akaashi Keiji

Akinori Konoha

Shiratorizawa

Wakatoshi Ushijima

Satori Tendou

Eita semi

Inarizaki

Miya Atsumu

Miya Osamu

Kita Shinsuke

Suna Rintaro

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, captive reader

gn reader

Thinking about poly yanderes… 

Being held still by one of them, forced to sit between his thick thighs – getting so sick of being outnumbered – feeling so weak, stuck in his muscle-swelled arms keeping you tight against him, wrapped snugly around your torso with your back to his chest while his hands grope your front, locking your own to your sides.

He rests his chin off your shoulder – whispering sweet words laced with mockery as you’re left to quake on his lap, struggling to keep your own pathetic sounds to yourself, having grown tired of screaming to be freed some time ago.

"You're shaking so much, sweetie~” He teases while licking your neck – smirking at how the fight in you, once so wild and untamed, had turned into you trying to restrain yourself in favor of breaking free. Fighting, now instead, to hold yourself back from spiraling until coming undone by the heat surging in your belly. 

Your face, dewy with a thin sheen of sweat, is held steadily in your other captor’s hand, keeping your misty hooded eyes looking up at him, where he leans over you while his other hand plays an eager one-sided game of war between your thighs. 

His mouth ghosts yours with small kisses, and everything smells of his breath as he pours sweet unwanted nothings down your throat. "Oh, y'so sweet in my hand~ so soft on my fingers~" 

It’s as though you can see the sickness in his eyes – leering at you like you're something he wants to devour.

“Don’t be shy~ show us how pretty you are when you cum~” He continued cooing.

“You know you want to~” The other accomplice added hot and damp right at your ear – just as amused as his partner. “Come on, baby~ show us~”

You whined, pathetically trying to wrench your face away from their pestering – overheated and overwhelmed – thighs shuddering around the stimulation, wherein the distress you wanted nothing more but to close your legs.

But the one behind you had them both hooked and spread beneath his, keeping you still and accepting of the one in front’s brazen touches.

You pinch your eyes close and bite your lip, not wanting it but feeling it take you nonetheless.

“No, no, no~” One of them tuts then, his mouth on your cheek catching tears. “Don’t look away, Angelface~ Keep your eyes on me~” He begs with fingers curled around your jaw, nuzzling your nose with his while pressing his forehead flat against your sweaty one. 

You whimper, and his thumb swirls over that place you're most sensitive. Cracking a splitting smile when you buck your hips in response.

“So close, buttercup~” He simpers before dragging his hot tongue from your chin to your temple. And you sob, thinking it’s just too cruel how your body decides to react to it. 

The knot within you seizes up, coiled so tight and stretched so thin it snaps – leaving you to throw your head back against the chest behind you – moaning out while they watch you gush for them with a shared smile on both their faces.

BNHA – DabiHawks, ShinKami, BakuDeku, ShigaDabi, TodoDeku, KiriBaku

JJK – SatoSugu, Toji x Shiu, MahiJaku, YujiKuna

HQ – Miya twins, IwaOi,

BLLK – NagiReo

HxH – KuraKuro, HisoIllu

[yandere-sins]

Do you think the miya twins would ever "mess around" with their darling at the same time? Ik they usually don't touch her like that unless they have her to themselves. Idk, I think it'd be fun to have the two crazies fighting over her as they have sex.

Oh yeah, totally!

[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content]

Osamu is gracious, almost lenient. He knows Atsumu needs his alone time with you after a hard day of training, to celebrate his victory, or to just shut him up for a while. Having you bounce on his cock until he's satisfied is sure to knock Atsumu out for a while, as he'll be sleeping like a baby after a good fuck. And, to be honest, Osamu doesn't always want to deal with his brother's whining because you moaned the "wrong" name or because you've been kissing Osamu for too long. He just wants to be concentrating on your and his pleasure, knowing his brother can get off just fine by slamming into you but Osamu likes taking his sweet time. Also, Osamu is fully aware that his presence and extra stimulation could overwhelm you (although he enjoys that).

Regardless, that means he'll be the one to back off 7 out of 10 times, whisking you away after Atsumu is done for some fun in the bathtub and to help clean you up. Or he enjoys the rare time he has alone with you, bending you over the kitchen counter or taking you into the twin's room for somewhere more comfortable. There's also the delayed gratification in listening to your moans coming from the other room while he's cooking, his cock throbbing and waiting for his own chance of release that Osamu so likes. And he really likes being the one to pick up the you in pieces that Atsumu leaves behind, making sure you know he's the one to rely on in this weird relationship.

But there are times it can't be helped. I mean, look at you; how can anyone resist you?!

Surely not those two!

It's mostly when Osamu and you are getting frisky, and Atsumu comes home too early and catches you. He really has no shame, and there will be an unoccupied spot he can squeeze himself into. There's so much excitement in his eyes when he sees you, already hot and heavy, dazed, crying, or otherwise deliciously pleasured, and he can't help himself from asking you if you're enjoying his brother's dick and if you want to feel even better. He'll be so vocal about how pretty you are and how well you are taking Osamu's cock. How you'll be able to fit one more and take Atsumu as well, looking absolutely brilliant like this. If your mouth isn't occupied, Atsumu will make you tell him all about how you're feeling, asking you to say where his brother is making you feel good and apply some more stimulation that Osamu might have missed. Atsumu is always a little rougher with you, but he knows where to twist and pull to make your back arch, and he's the best when it comes to praising and degrading you, depending on what you need at that moment. And he knows. He always knows where you're itching to be touched, and if not, he'll make you tell him, kiss you feverishly when you speak up, and do everything you need him to do.

The twins might nag a bit at each other, but you know better than anyone that their teamwork is dreamwork. If they get together, you'll be drowning in pleasure until you no longer feel like the trapped darling you are. They'll make you feel like you belong. Like you are their lover and as if you want to be their bitch, chasing just one more height. The two of them are as addicting and devastating as drugs, but you'll never find anyone who knows your body better. Who's touch will make you cry from joy and who controls you from your thoughts to your orgasm, allowing you to let go of any worry or fear.

Although more rare, there are also times when Osamu joins you and Atsumu. Interestingly, Atsumu does give out an invitation every time Osamu walks in on you and his brother cock-deep inside you. It might be a jest, but Atsumu is unpredictable and mischievous in that way, and Osamu, too, can't resist his pretty darling, writhing and moaning in front of him, desperately in need of his attention. (It's what he tells himself, at least.) Sometimes, it's enough to watch you and his brother go at it as he jerks himself off, but on the very good days, Osamu will do anything to worship you, putting your pleasure before his, especially after seeing his brother rough you up. Isn't it nice of him to kiss all those bites and scratches? Osamu's hands can be so amazing as they dance across your skin, leaving trails of his touch from one hickey to another that make you gasp while his palms almost seem to burn when they settle. You'll want to nod and confirm any of his questions because you know he'll treat you to mind-breaking stimulation when you do. Of course you'll suck his fingers, push out your tongue for him and let him play with your hair as he rearranges you into new positions, making you feel things even deeper to the point both you and Atsumu are trembling and moaning.

Having the full attention of one twin can be exhausting or quite one-sided. But once you have both, you'll start to forget that you never wanted any of this.

Because in those moments, you'll only want more.

[dolliestfairy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cant Stop Thinking...

Tw : Noncon, Bullying, Yandere Themes, use the word 'fat', Dark themes, Male masturbations, Dacryphilia, Virginity-take, mentions of blood, force-realtionship, Chubby Reader Fics with no Skintone of Reader mentioned.

Dead Dove Do Not Eat.

💭🥛🍓 cant stop thinking about men who loves to bully you. men who said to his other friends that you're nothing but a bunny who fawnings all over him, saying that you're pathetic and fat. men who acts disgusted around you, when the reality is -- he was more than ready to sacrifice his own friends, if its enough for him just so he can see your chubby cheeks lifted into a smile. men who jerks off the thoughts about you. feeling pathetic with his own self because he should be just pinned you beneath him and fucked you to death! men who really wants to ruin that bright smile of yours. he should be the one who deserve to seeing it, not them!. men who pathetically hiding his jealousy when he sees you talk to your other friends, and showing your bright smile at them. men who cant hold it anymore, as he placed his hands over your mouth just so you cant scream. while his other hands grabbing both of your chubby hands and hold you within it. while his cock pounding your back, shushing your muffled screams and cry, and oh.. if only he can be honest, he must say you looked so pretty with tears rolling down into your cheeks. and he also enjoy the sight of your bloodied pussy. guess he's your first isnt it? men who force you to accept him as your new boyfriend. you dont need anyone else darling, just come to his lap and tell him what you want, he would gave it to you within minutes! although he wont gave you a freedom. besides, he's your first one isnt it? so he should be the one who deserve to claim you as his. its just a matter of time before he finally tried to court you into his wife, i hope you're ready to kiss goodbye at your normal life style because later on, you wont be seeing anyone else besides him, Ever Again.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ The Men that i'm Talking about Are ;

Sasori, TSUKISHIMA KEI, Sasuke, SCARAMOUCHE, Childe, Kyoutani, Kuroo Tetsuro, MIYA TWINS, ALEC, Naoya Zenin, Toji Fushiguro, Sanzu, HAITANI TWINS, Douma, Sanemi, ITOSHI BROTHERS, Sukuna, Eren, Hidan, Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Suna rintaro.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Did i forget anyone? Insert your favs!

I cant believe i just write this -- i am going to hell...

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

trust me

while on an expedition into space, your budding romance with osamu came as a pleasant surprise- the murderer hiding amongst your crew, not so much.

alien!osamu miya x fem!reader

contents/warnings: murder, manipulation, and slight yandere, side character deaths, service dom!osamu, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), size kink, osamu is PACKING, praise, belly bulge, dacryphilia, use of pet names, betrayal, angst in the end, osamu still has his dyed hair but he’s in his twenties, this is basically an among us au bare with me

wc: 6.7k

18+ MINORS DNI

an: this one is posted a little late but it works out so it gets to be posted on samu’s actual bday!

“the fuck you mean you found a dead body?” terushima bites out from next to you.

your brain felt like it was lagging as panicked voices sounded off around you. there was no way one of your crewmates was dead. you’d all had multiple health screenings before getting admission into the space exploration program. no one would have gotten the green light if they were in bad health, so how could they just have died? and within the first week?

unless…

“there were multiple stab wounds,” director takeda said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible to prevent the surrounding tension from worsening. “as of right now, we can only assume it was a homicide.”

the room fell silent as everyone let the news sink in.

“ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” a voice drawls from across the circular table. “we’re stuck on this floatin’ hunk of metal and we’ve gotta damn killer on the loose?”

atsumu miya had a scowl on his face, arms crossed over his chest.

“if that’s the case then we need to start narrowing suspects down now,” oikawa followed up. “someone in this room is a murderer, unless we have a stowaway hiding somewhere.”

“security is top notch, there’s no way someone would have been able to sneak on,” kanoka rebutted.

“well then,” daishou started. “it’s time to start hearing some alibis.”

“i was doing weapons,” asahi supplied.

“i can vouch, i was in the room with him,” oikawa added, the other nodding in agreement.

one by one, all of your crewmates stated where they were, what they were doing, who they were with.

“i was in navigation with the twins trying to get the ship back on course,” suna said. “since dumb and dumber decided it would be a good idea to push a bunch of random buttons.”

“i was tryin’ t’ find the air conditionin’!”

“don’t rope me in with his bullshit,” osamu miya muttered from besides his brother.

you spared a quick glance at the grey-haired man. out of all the people on the ship, he seemed to be the one you always found your eyes wandering to.

“where were you?”

the question pulled you back into focus. you turned to see terushima staring down at you, awaiting your response.

“i was reading some samples in med bay.”

his eyes narrowed. “did anyone see you?”

you blinked. no, no one saw you, but that’s because you were the only scientist hired on with a medical background. most of your time in med bay was spent alone.

would that make you look suspicious?

you figured that honesty was the best policy, so you went ahead and told the truth.

“no, i was there alone- but no one else is ever really in there unless they need treatment or need to run an errand, if that makes any difference.”

“so what i’m hearing is that you don't have a solid alibi.”

you felt your hands start to shake. “i-i guess not…”

“let’s hear where the hell yer ass was, terushima.”

the two of you turned to see osamu’s dark grey eyes trained on the man interrogating you. the intensity in them almost sent a chill down your spine.

“ya seem desperate t’ go ahead and put blame on the lil’ lady without even giving yer own alibi yet.”

was he defending you?

terushima sent him a glare. “i was emptying the trash in storage. daishou saw me when he passed by.”

a furrow appeared on said man’s brow. “uh, hate to say it man, but i don’t remember seeing you there.”

“the hell do you mean? you literally walked right by me!”

“the only people i remember seeing before the emergency alarm sounded off was kanoka and the director in shields. i was dropping off some supplies for them.”

“you can’t be serious right now!”

“well look who doesn't have a solid alibi now,” atsumu taunted. “it seems t’ me like yer dejectin’-”

“projecting,” suna corrected.

“-projectin’ onto someone else because ya don’t wanna look guilty.”

“you’re trying to imply that i did this?” terushima shouted.

“if the shoe fits.”

“that’s enough,” director takeda declares, getting the bickering to subside before it could escalate further. “we don’t need to jump to conclusions and we don’t need to fall into hysteria, either. making a rash decision based on little evidence won’t help anything. the body was found near the reactors, so on the complete opposite side of the ship from where everyone allegedly was. Therefore, we don't really have any leads at the moment.”

“so what do we do?” asahi asked, anxiety written all over his face.

“for now, everyone just stay alert and on guard. try to stay in groups or at least pairs if you can. i don’t think the killer will lash out if more than one person is around, and if worst comes to worst, we’d at least be able to pick out who was with who. if you do notice anything suspicious about a fellow crewmate, come report to me directly. rumors will only cause trouble. understood?”

everyone gave their confirmation, you barely being able to mutter yours out.

there was really a killer amongst your ranks.

you were stuck on a ship traveling further into outer space with a murderer.

“good. meeting adjourned, everyone back to your tasks.”

you turned back towards med bay, practically moving on autopilot as your mind picked apart every piece of information you just received.

“i find it interesting that the person closest to the reactors at the time of the murder was you. that is, if your story was even true”

the voice was followed by a hand roughly grabbing onto your arm, halting your retreat. you turned to see terushima’s glare trained on you, his grip tightening. “everyone else might be letting your shitty alibi slide, but i'm not.”

“your own alibi wasn’t even solid,” you argued back, trying to wrench free from his grasp. “you don't have any right to accuse me, if anything i could be saying the same things to you right now.”

“you’re a lot more combative than you were a few minutes ago. i guess you dropped the quiet, innocent girl act now that we're not surrounded by others, right?”

you wanted to deck this guy. how dare he continue to try and accuse you of one thing after another when you haven't done anything wrong. especially after his own shaky alibi had been exposed.

“that’s not the case at all, i just don’t like to be bothered by a hypocrite!”

“i’ll show you a fucking-”

“get yer filthy hands off’a her.”

osamu was at your side before you could even register. while the expression on his face seemed blank, terushima could see the silent fire raging within his eyes, practically challenging him to try and disobey the grey-haired man’s order.

still, the shorter man made no move to release you, which prompted your unexpected savior to speak again.

“if i have t’ tell ya twice, yer not gonna like what happens next.”

with that, terushima finally released you. he scoffed before turning to storm out of the room.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“ya alright, there?”

looking up you met the dark, concerned eyes of osamu. the contact had the inside of your stomach turning into an ocean, waves swirling around within you as you held his gaze.

“i’m okay, thank you,” you said, trying to ignore the feeling of your cheeks heating up. “he seemed relentless, so i really do appreciate you stepping in.”

a smile then appeared on osamu’s face, and you wanted to burn the image into your memory forever because goodness did that man look handsome.

“it’s no worries, my ma taught me better than t’ just stand by when a lady’s ‘n trouble.”

you felt the corners of your own lips curl upwards. “well then she did a really great job.”

“how ‘bout i walk ya back to med bay,” he offered. “director said we needa stick together, wouldn’t feel right if i just let ya wander off alone.”

the waves inside your stomach felt as if they were growing to tsunami-level proportions. you had clearly noticed that osamu was a handsome man the day the crew was all introduced to each other, but you reasoned that you had a job to do on this ship so you couldn’t let yourself get distracted by what was essentially a schoolgirl crush.

now, however, the person of your attraction was guiding you through the halls with a large hand placed on the small of your back.

“i feel like we’re ‘n the start of’a nightmare,” osamu said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “can’t believe shunki got offed by someone on the damn crew.”

“yeah, it’s insane,” you replied. “i still can’t really wrap my head around it.”

“ ‘m sure that terushima jackass barkin’ atcha hasn't made it any easier for ya, huh?”

you sighed. “no, but i guess he does have somewhat of a reason. my alibi can't be corroborated by anyone. besides, nerves are running rampant right now, so i can't really blame him.”

the two of you reached med bay, osamu reaching for the handle and opening the door before you could even lift a finger. he was every bit as chivalrous as he was handsome, your knees feeling slightly weaker as he ushered you inside.

“well i think his reason for comin’ atcha was bullshit. he doesn’t have a solid story, either, so his whole outburst is rubbin’ me the wrong way. be careful ‘round him, will ya?”

the thought had crossed your mind during your earlier altercation with terushima. you knew you weren’t a killer, but him? it could be entirely plausible that a murderer had just been laying his hands on you. if osamu hadn’t come to your aid…

“i’ll try and steer clear of him,” you replied. “thank you again, osamu. i appreciate it, really.”

“of course,” he replied with a smile coming back onto his face. “and you can call me ‘samu.”

returning his kind expression, you nodded your head before turning to grab the samples you were working with earlier.

“anythin’ i can help ya with while ‘m here?”

“you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, walking me back was already sweet enough of you.”

“nah, we gotta stay ‘n pairs, remember? can’t let ya just sit here by yerself with a killer on the ship.”

by the look on his face, you could tell osamu wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so you relented by pointing to the wireless connection panel on the wall across from you.

“i think that could use some maintenance.”

_____

while very tense, the next few days were quiet. no more killings, no odd behavior from anyone- besides terushima’s rotten attitude towards you, but at this point you were just getting used to it. everyone was taking it day by day, each uneventful twenty-four hours being looked at as a win. crew morale was constantly wavering, however. it was hard to feel confident in your coworkers when one of them was secretly a murderer.

your safe haven amidst all of the suspense was osamu.

he continued to spend hours at a time with you in med bay, your once silent workplace now filled with chatter and laughter. when it came time for him to leave to go attend to other tasks, you would often tag along.

“buddy system, right?” he would say.

atsumu and suna would also occasionally find themselves keeping the two of you company in med bay. watching the three of them banter was probably the best entertainment you were going to get on the spacecraft. with the way the dark-haired man interacted with the twins you would think that they’ve all known each other for a very long time, so you were surprised to learn that they’d only just met at the start of the expedition.

“it literally reminds me of mustard,” suna remarked, earning a burst of laughter from osamu.

“shut yer trap, sunarin!”

“did you just not think to use toner?”

“there is nothin’ wrong with my hair!” atsumu defended.

the bickering had been going on for the past five minutes, suna always finding a way to goad the blonde into being his personal entertainment. he almost had a talent for being able to get under either of the twin’s skin, antagonizing them almost as much as they antagonize each other.

“if yer worried ‘bout what's wrong with ya then yer hair is the least of yer worries,” osamu piped up, earning a small giggle from you. you were too engrossed in recording your sample data to notice the content smile come onto the grey-haired man’s face at hearing your laugh.

he came up behind you, leaning down so that his head was hovering above your shoulder. “what ya got goin’ on here?”

you kept your face turned down towards your desk, not wanting him to catch onto the way your cheeks were heating up at his close proximity. “just going over the results from asahi’s blood test.”

it was no doubt to you that after spending so much time together, there was…something brewing between you and osamu. at first you figured it was just physical attraction, but the more you were around him, the more you began to realize that wasn’t the case.

you felt a comfort with the man you hadn’t felt with anyone else before- not any of your friends, not any of your exes, not even your family. there was no denying that there was a genuine connection there, and whether you were falling for him so quickly because of the circumstances or because you were truly that into him, you didn’t know.

and it didn’t really matter to you, either. every day on this spaceship could end up being your last, so you chose not to waste your time overthinking.

“need any help?”

“no, but thank you, ‘samu. you're always so considerate.”

before he could reply, kissy noises were sounding off from the other two occupants in the room. the glare osamu sent atsumu and suna would probably have most peoples’ stomachs dropping, but the two of them seemed unfazed.

it was then that a red flash illuminated the room, a harsh buzz ripping through the air.

the emergency alarm.

you dropped your pen.

“dammit!” atsumu yelled. “not another murder!”

a hand was placed on the small of your back, guiding you to stand on unsteady legs. “don’t jump t’ conclusions, we don’t know fer sure.”

“well what else would it be?” suna asked.

you began to move towards the door, osamu’s palm not leaving your body.

“i guess we should go find out,” you muttered.

the walk was silent, the once tense atmosphere of the ship now suffocating as days after days worth of anxiety had come to a crescendo. the four of you waited as the cafeteria doors slid open, revealing the rest of your crewmates gathered around the meeting table.

well, all of them except one.

not again…

once you had all gathered around, director takeda spoke the words you’d been dreading to hear since the adjournment of the last meeting.

“another body has been found.”

silence.

“oikawa and asahi found daishou in the electrical room. he wasn’t moving and they couldn’t find a pulse.”

“that’s right around the corner from where the last body was found,” kanoka observed.

“on the same side as med bay,” terushima muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

you frowned. “can you at least wait until we get all the details before you try and start accusing me?”

“why? we’re already two men down, we can’t let this shit just slide again.”

“we won’t,” takeda firmly interjected. “there were several small bruises on daishou’s neck, so it seems that his cause of death was asphyxiation.”

“so whoever did this was able to choke a grown a man to death with their bare hands,” oikawa observed.

“wouldn’t that mean we have the culprit’s fingerprints?” you asked.

“unfortunately the perpetrator was wearing gloves.”

“damn,’ asahi sighed.

“well if they killed the poor guy with their bare hands then i really don’t think it could be the lil’ lady,” atsumu commented.

“yeah, ya really think these tiny ass fingers could choke a man?” osamu added, lifting your hand up to prove his point. your stomach fluttered when you saw how huge his looked compared to yours.

“here the two of you go fucking defending her again,” terushima barked. “she didn’t even have an alibi last time!”

“neither did you,” suna said.

“yeah, and this time all three of us were with her,” osamu motioned between him, his brother, and their friend. “so she has the damn alibi yer so bent over.”

“okay, so we know oikawa and asahi were together again, then the four of them were with each other,” kanoka listed. “i was checking oxygen levels with the director.”

all eyes turned to the remaining unnamed person.

“terushima, where were you?”

the man blinked. “i was doing weapons.”

“did anyone see you?”

“i-uh, well no, everyone was off doing other things.”

director takeda frowned. “so you have no one to confirm your whereabouts?”

“second time this happened,” oikawa commented.

the pierced man sent the brunette a glare.

“since he mentioned it already, wasn’t daishou the one who denied being able to verify terushima’s story last time? and now he’s dead, too.”

everyone went quiet at suna’s observation, terushima’s eyes widening.

“are you seriously implying that i fucking did this?”

“the evidence isn’t really pointing towards anyone else right now,” kanoka said slowly.

“what the fuck.”

“everyone else has alibis,” oikawa said, prepared to lay the facts on the table.”you’re the only one who’s been unaccounted for both times, and you have a possible motive for the most recent killing. no one else has the cards stacked against them like this.”

terushima looked around the table, everyone regarding him with a careful, withdrawn look.

“guys, come on!”

director takeda took a slow breath. “i’m sorry, terushima. but we’ve already lost two lives, and right now you’re the only suspect. we have to do what’s best for the crew.”

“fuck you,” he bit out, practically snarling. “fuck all of you! what are you gonna do now, shoot me?”

“no,” his superior said slowly.

“the ship has come equipped with a different way to handle violent members.”

_____

never in a million years would you have thought that what director takeda meant is that terushima would get ejected. thrown out into deep space to choke and freeze.

it felt so cruel and unusual. yet, your boss insisted that this was the best way to go about it. keeps the threat away without needing anyone to bloody their own hands.

you tried to take his word for it, but you still couldn’t help but feel that there had to have been a better method.

thankfully, the relief of the murder mystery being solved was enough to keep you from dwelling on it for too long. the atmosphere on the ship was light again, everyone more lively and talkative. there was still an underlying somberness held for those departed, but no more going through the day with bated breath.

well, almost.

you still couldn’t fight the feeling that something was…off.

as if your ship’s little mystery had been solved almost too easily. too conveniently.

“what’s wrong?”

osamu’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, standing at the entryway to your sleeping quarters.

“oh! hey,” you said, getting up from your desk. you had to crane your neck so much to look up at him. you tried to ignore how that fact made your heart skip.

as if he could read your thoughts, the grey-haired man brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “ya didn’t answer me.”

you gave him a small smile. “i’m okay, ‘samu, just tired.”

he frowned. “i don’t believe ya.”

a sigh escaped your lips. “i guess i’m just a little overwhelmed. i’m glad we found terushima out and all, but this whole ordeal has just felt like…a lot. and i think i've been struggling to calm down again, after things were so tense for a while.”

“i don’t like seein’ ya this worried, pretty girl like ya shouldn’t be frettin’ over a thing.”

the comment didn’t catch you completely off guard. osamu had started to become a little more flirtatious, but you always figured it wasn’t that serious. probably just a way for him to be affectionate.

as his dark eyes bore into you right now, however, you started to think that might not be the case.

“i’m okay, really.”

the hand that had brushed your hair away hadn’t left your face, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“i can see yer face lookin’ all gloomy,’ he said, moving closer to you. “c’mon, darlin’, talk to me.”

you took a deep, steadying breath. “i just want a break from all the stress.”

his hands were then roaming your back, pulling you into his chest. his lips found themselves at the shell of your ear.

“then let me take care of ya, sweetheart.”

the sexual tension building up over the past week came to boiling point when osamu’s lips slotted against yours, desire spilling over the sides and shrouding each of you in a cloud of desire. he started to press more firmly, tongue sliding in between the seam of your mouth.

he broke away from you. “ ‘s this alright?”

you nodded, eyes wide, before osamu’s lips chased after yours again, hand coming to the zipper of your pink bodysuit. he dragged it down slowly, revealing more of your skin inch by inch.

stepping out of the material, you stood before him in your matching set.

“so damn beautiful.”

you placed your hands on the back of his neck, eyes staring up at him doefully. “wanna see you too, ‘samu.”

“whatever ya want, darlin’.”

he peeled off his own bodysuit next, grey in color, and was left in just his briefs. gently leading you back towards your bed, he laid you down slowly.

kissing you once more, osamu started to move down your body, leaving little pecks against your heated skin in his wake.

“what are you doing?”

“i told ya i was gonna take care of ya, sweetheart.”

he pressed a kiss below your belly button, fingers gripping the hem of your panties. he glanced towards your face, chest tightening at the sight of your lust-blown expression, waiting for your okay. you nodded, and thus osamu peeled the lace off.

grabbing the underside of each of your thighs, he spread them open. kissing the inner part of each of them, his lips then finally descended onto your glistening cunt.

“ ‘samu,” you squeaked out.

he smirked, tongue grazing up and down your sensitive nub. the sensation had you mewling, fingers tangling into his dyed locks. your sounds made osamu smirk against you, adding two fingers into your cunt in hopes he’d hear even more.

the muscle started to move against your clit faster, mouthing against it like he was starved. another finger was then pressed into your pussy. you weren’t used to being stretched that much.

“too much,” you whined out. “ ‘s too much.”

“ya need t’ take it, sweet thing. if yer gonna take my dick later, ya need this.”

you felt your breath catch, the thought of being filled by him leading the heat in your stomach to start building.

finally hitting his fingers against that spongy spot deep within your walls, a cry ripped from you as he started to put all of his focus there. your legs were starting to shake, so osamu decided now was the time to switch up the motion of his tongue, drawing circles on your bundle of nerves.

you spasmed as your orgasm tore through you, whimpers leaving your lips as pleasure overtook every nerve within you.

osamu removed his mouth and fingers from you, inching back up your body before hovering over you.

“did so good, pretty girl, so good.”

you felt his thick fingers creep behind your back, undoing your bra. his eyes drank in the sight of your tits as he pulled the garment off of you.

kisses and bites were littered along your chest, small praises whispered between each. his lips moved back up your neck, leaving a final peck on the tip of your nose before speaking.

“ya think yer ready?”

you knew what he was talking about, nodding your head vigorously, excited to be able to feel all of him.

however, all of that excitement left your body when he finally removed his boxers.

oh…

you should have known. osamu’s whole frame was big and broad. why would his cock be any different?

god, would that even fit? none of your past boyfriends even came close to his size.

he must’ve seen your face grow pale. “what’s the matter, darlin’?”

you gulped.

“...that’s not gonna fit, ‘samu.”

“it will,” he replied, not even seeming fazed by your concern. “trust me.”

“but-”

“ya trust me, right?”

his gaze was zeroed in on yours, and you felt yourself become transfixed by just how endless it seemed, as if the space surrounding your little floating ship existed in osamu’s eyes.

“yeah, i trust you.”

another soft kiss met your lips. “good.”

his thumb was at your clit again, an attempt to distract you from the head of his cock pressing against your opening. he began to push in, a small whimper leaving your lips as you could already feel the burning stretch.

“relax, doll, ya gotta relax.”

more kisses were then peppered against your lips, silent reassurances as osamu entered into you further, each new inch making your brain feel as if it was going to explode.

“little cunt ain’t used t’ takin’ somethin’ this big, huh?”

you shook your head, confirming his suspicion as tears started to leak from your eyes.

“well, first time fer everythin’, sweetheart.”

you had no idea how he got the whole thing to fit inside of you. your pussy felt as if it was being torn apart at the seams in the best way possible, jaw going slack as he bottomed out.

“oh.”

osamu hummed. “tightest cunt i’ve ever been ‘n. yer just a dream, aintcha?”

you wanted to reply to his praise, but all that could leave you was a scream as he started to pull out and push back in. starting a steady pace, the man pulled you into a hungry kiss.

never before had you ever been so filled, moaning aimlessly into his mouth as the only thought your brain could come up with was so full, so full, so full.

he parted from your lips.

“ya feel it, darlin’?”

you didn’t have a clue what he was talking about until he thrusted back in, palm coming down against a protrusion in your tummy. the realization had more drops falling down your cheeks, babbles bubbling up your throat. he was going to rip you apart, and you were more than willing to let him.

“ ‘m gettin’ close,” he warned, forehead resting against yours. his hands then grabbed each side of your hips, holding you in place as he picked up the pace. “need ya t’ cum too, doll. ladies first.”

your cunt finally couldn’t take anymore battering, muscles spasming as you came hard on osamu’s cock. you saw him grin as your body shook, finally allowing himself to release with a low groan.

he made sure to pull out of your overstuffed pussy before you could get too stimulated, situating himself at your side so he could pull you into his chest. you rested your cheek against his pec.

stillness overtook the room as you tried to compose yourself, body still twitching with aftershocks.

osamu chuckled, kissing the crown of your head.

“i told ya i’d make it work. see, ya can trust me.”

_____

the next twenty four hours were absolute bliss. you and osamu were practically connected at the hip, all ooey gooey and lovey dovey with each other. atsumu and suna made gagging sounds every time they saw the two of you, but neither of you cared. nothing was going to ruin the oasis you’d built with one other.

the emergency alarm figured it was up for the challenge.

your eyebrows knitted together, pulling away from your lover’s side as you heard the sound pierce the content silence you’d been sitting in.

the uneasy feeling from before, the feeling that something still just wasn’t right came back to you.

“it might just be some mechanical issues,” osamu reassured, clearly trying to calm you down. you met his gaze, slightly taken aback by the expression in them. it was hard to read, but you just chalked it up to him being antsy, too.

“hopefully.”

the broken, bloodied glasses of director takeda proved the two of you wrong.

oikawa held them in the palm of his hand, a grim look on his face.

“he was in navigation,” he started. “i could barely even recognize him, that’s how bad the damage was.”

you couldn’t stop your lip from wobbling. your nightmare was still ongoing, and now the one person who kept you all sane had been beaten into his grave.

what came next broke you even more, though.

“kanoka is dead, too.”

two murders.

two murders on the same damn day.

you bit your lip, keeping your cries as silent as you could as the news settled.

suna was the first to speak. “do we need to move their bodies out of there, and give them a nicer…resting place, like the others?”

“that’s the thing,” oikawa’s tone now had an edge to it. “kanoka’s body wasn’t with the director’s, it was in lower engine.”

“so what does that mean?” you said, frustration starting to prick at you. “the killer moved her body? or had enough time to get from one crime scene to the other?”

“no,” asahi said. “oikawa was across the hall cleaning the air filters when he heard crashing in navigation. he remembered the time was around 7:30 pm. i was checking the reactor when i heard kanoka scream, and the clock on it read 7:27 pm.”

“ya mean t’ tell me they were killed at the same time ‘n opposite sides of the ship? how the hell is that possible?”

“is the answer not obvious?” oikawa bit out at atsumu. “there’s two fucking killers, and it has to be one of you four!”

“one of us?” you said in disbelief.

“yes!”

“wait a damn minute,” osamu started. “ya mean t’ tell us that if there’s two killers, it has t’ be two of us? not the two of ya, who’ve been stickin’ together since the beginnin’?”

“what ‘samu said! y’all have always been each other’s alibis, ya could have been bullshittin’ us the whole time!”

atsumu had a point. oikawa and asahi always being each other’s alibis would have been one thing when there was a singular killer, but now that there’s two? they could have been covering for each other the whole time. but still…

“if we were the killers why would we give away that there’s two of us? that makes no sense, we’d have nothing to gain from that.”

oikawa voiced the exact thought you had been thinking. they would have the element of surprise keeping their partnership under wraps, it doesn’t make sense why they would expose there are two murderers when it would be easier to let the impression there’s a singular one linger.

yet, you had gotten to know the other three people at the table. there was no way osamu, atsumu, or suna could be a killer. there was just no way.

“you could be playing mind games with us, who knows,” suna assessed. “there’s no telling what fucked shit you’re willing to do if you’re out here cutting people up.”

“no one is trying to play tricks!” asahi yelled. “the innocent people on this ship are in serious danger, we need to figure this out now!”

“the four of us see one another on a regular basis,” osamu said. “the two of ya are the outliers here.”

“we each have three other people that can vouch for us! the two of ya only have each other! yer outnumbered here!”

you were so overwhelmed. so much muddled information was being thrown around, no solid theories being able to stem from such minimal evidence. you weren’t going to be able to use your brain on this one, you were going to have to trust your gut.

“we’re supposed to believe the pair of two people aren’t the killers and instead the duo is hiding in the tight knit group of four? that shit doesn’t add up in the slightest, the two of you are talking out of your asses.”

oikawa and asahi turned to you.

“you’re smart, please tell us you believe us.”

you bit your lip.

“i just…can’t wrap my head around the idea that any of them could be killers.”

“don’t let being buddy-buddy with the three of them cloud your judgment. like i said earlier, why would we expose there are actually two killers if we were the two killers?”

a theory came to your mind, and you weren’t sure if you thought it up because it was actually plausible, or because you just wanted to prove your lover and friends were innocent. regardless, you shared it.

“the three of them are bigger than the prior victims, so they would put up a tough fight. two against four would be hard to pull off with them, so you could be exposing the murderer duo so that we get rid of two of ourselves and then make it a two against two.”

oikawa and asahi both blanched at your statement.

“she’s a genius!” atsumu exclaimed. “y’all really thought ya could put one by her, huh?”

“she’s wrong! we would nev-”

“i don’t know about you guys,” suna interrupted. “but i’ve heard all that i need to hear. let’s get them the fuck off this ship.”

the screaming and shouting that ensued as he and the twins pushed the two accused men out of the room and down the halls had you covering your ears, eyes squeezed shut as more tears dropped down your face.

you tried to tell yourself that you were okay. the murderers had been caught for real now, you were going to be fine. you were safe.

the ship went quiet, yells no longer being heard. that was all you needed to know that oikawa and asahi had been ejected.

footsteps pulled you out of your thoughts, suna regarding you with a nod as he re-entered the room.

“you alright?”

breathe in, breathe out. “i should be.”

“good. i'm gonna go send a message to headquarters. someone needs to tell them what the hell has been happening.”

you bid him goodbye as he left. standing up, you decided that being wrapped up in osamu’s arms felt like a good idea after the intense moment earlier.

they weren’t in med bay, so you did a little searching before hearing their voices from inside the admin room. you were about to enter the room before a sentence spoken by osamu stopped you in your tracks.

“i told ya t’ fuckin’ wait a while-”

wait for what?

“ ‘m sorry, i just wanted to get it over with! i told ya i didn’t want t’ be the one t’ kill the director.”

not even the limitless space outside could create the coldness you felt seep through every pore in your skin.

please be dreaming.

“ya still nearly got us exposed.”

“who cares? we’ve picked enough people off anyways. ship is ours.”

your pulse currently rivaled that of a racehorse, your brain not being able to deny what it just heard.

the twins were the killers.

osamu was a murderer.

movement to your left caught your eye, the brothers exiting the room only to stop in surprise when they saw you.

you tried to paint a look of nonchalance on your face, but it was too late. the panic was written all over you. there was nowhere to hide.

two very different emotions came onto their faces. atsumu practically looked predatory, whereas ‘samu almost looked as panicked as you.

“darlin’, listen to me-”

“cut her the bullshit, ‘samu, ya already dickmatized her enough.”

you found yourself backpedaling, fingers trembling as you attempted to put as much distance between you and them as possible.

“c’mon, angel, why ya look so scared?” atsumu taunted. you watched in horror as his brown eyes shifted to an inky black, the blonde about to lunge at you before his brother grabbed him by the collar of his maroon suit and yanked him back.

“not her,” osamu bit out, trapping his brother in a headlock. “i told ya anyone but her.”

“yer no fun, ‘samu!”

you didn’t wait around to watch them squabble, turning and running towards communications as fast as you could. you had to get to suna. he needed to know, and you weren’t going to be able to stand the slightest chance against the miyas without him.

choked sobs left you as you sped through the halls, sorrow and guilt eating you alive. sorrow because the man you had started to fall in love with, the man you had given your body to, the man you felt safe with ended up being a murderer. you felt beyond just betrayed.

then, your guilt stemmed from the fact that so many of your crewmates lay dead now, and several times you had let their killers roam free. not only that, but you’d also stood by as numerous innocent people were sent to their death outside in the vacuum of space.

you knew something was still off. you knew.

but your gut instinct had been fogged by your stupid, mushy emotions.

this was all fucked.

this was all so fucked.

“SUNA!” you screamed, sprinting into comms with red and bleary eyes.

“what is it- whoa, what’s going on?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“we were wrong,” you said, throat tightening. “it’s the twins, they’re the killers! they’ve been playing us the whole time.”

“damn, that’s tough.”

his unserious response confused you. maybe he was in shock?

“also, correction,” the dark-haired man began. “the miyas haven’t been playing us the whole time…”

your heart nearly stopped when you saw suna’s greyish-green eyes turn the same black shade that atsumu’s had.

“...we’ve all been playing you the whole time.”

you couldn’t move, not registering suna’s grip on your shoulders tightening until you were being ripped straight out of it.

“don’t fuckin’ touch her.”

you felt yourself become engulfed in osamu’s arms, back pressed to his chest as he kept the two of you facing the other two…imposters in the room.

“dude, seriously? she’s the last one standing, we could complete the set.”

“sunarin’s right! c’mon, ‘samu!”

you felt his hold tighten around you, the same hands that slaughtered your crewmates now protectively embracing you. that fact made your head hurt.

“i told the two of ya, ‘m keepin’ her. lay a damn finger on her and ‘m rippin’ it clean off ya.”

he was met with begrudged silence from the two other men before suna let out an exasperated sigh. “fine, i guess she can live. she did really help us out by vouching for us back there, fucking oikawa almost had us figured out.”

“a pretty face t’ look at on the ride home won’t hurt.”

“watch it,” osamu warned his brother.

you didn’t know what they were talking about. you didn’t know what home was for them. all you knew was that you were gonna get dragged along, whether you liked it or not, by a man who built a bond with you through sugar-coated lies.

osamu leaned down, kissing the side of your cheek before whispering in your ear. “all my feelins’ are genuine, darlin’, that i can assure ya.”

you felt his fingers intertwine with your still shaking ones.

“ ‘m gonna take good care of ya, i promise.”

_____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

[heich0e]

yakuza!suna/escort!reader part 5 - set in the morning after part 2, everybody give a warm welcome to the yakuza universe miya twins, tw yandere behaviour red flags series masterlist

You wake to the clanging sound of pots, pans, and the rush of running tap water—the telltale sound of cooking, you realize, the closer to consciousness you drift.

Slowly, you rouse from your slumber, blinking against the soft light that diffuses through the curtains along the vast wall of windows at your bedside.

No, not your bedside.

You push yourself up, a tenderness in your limbs that makes them wobble under the meagre effort to lift your own body from the soft swaddle of sheets. The gauzy curtains in Suna’s bedroom have rendered the daylight down outside into something gentle, but the face of the digital clock on his bedside table tells you that it’s almost midday, and life in the city outside is already in full-swing. You should have left hours ago. You shouldn’t even have spent the night. 

In truth, you’re not quite sure where your memories from the day before end. You don’t feel particularly well rested, which makes you think you probably haven’t been asleep for very long. What foggy recollection you do have from the very early hours of the morning tell you that there’s a good chance that you’re right.

You look down suddenly.

You don’t have any clothes on.

Your skin doesn’t feel sticky though, you remark as you drag your fingertips gently along your bare thigh. There’s no trace of grime, or sweat, or any other unmentionable mess that you can detect clinging to you—just tender aches that you know are fresh bruises forming underneath the outermost layer of your skin. You lift your forearm up to your nose, sniffing yourself lightly. You smell like soap. Nice soap. The same soap you smell on Suna when you mouth along his throat. He must have cleaned you up before he put you into bed, you realize.

You purse your lips in a pensive little pout.

Outside the bedroom—Suna’s bedroom—the clattering noises continue.

The sounds of activity in the kitchen only grow louder as you pad quietly out from the bedroom, approaching the edge of the second floor landing to peer down to the main floor. There’s not a particularly clear view to the kitchen from the upper level, but you see a pair of hands reaching for a knife from the chopping block in the island, so you know he’s there.

“Suna,” you call down quietly, your voice still hoarse from sleep and possibly overexertion the night before. You step cautiously down along the first few steps of the staircase, conscious of a dangerous weakness in your knees, clinging to the railing as you descend.

The sounds in the kitchen halt—save for the sizzle of something cooking on the stove.

You hadn’t been able to find your clothes in Suna’s bedroom, so you’re still naked—not that you have any particular reservations to nudity, given your line of work. 

You reach the bottom of the staircase and look up.

“Do you know where my clothes a—“

It is not Suna that you find in the kitchen.

In fact, it’s not even someone that you recognize.

The dark-haired man on the other side of the apartment is frozen with his eyes wide, staring at you like he’s just as shocked as you are to be standing there.

In the living room, a little bit closer to you, a head of blonde hair peeks up over the back of the sofa with an identical look of surprise.

Literally identical.

“You’re not Suna,” you remark rather flatly, though it really doesn’t need to be said.

“No ‘m definitely not,” the man in the kitchen nods, averting his stare. As though to preserve your modesty, he picks up a container of orange juice and holds it up in front of his eyes. It’s so unsubtle that you can’t help but think it’s kind of cute.

The guy on the couch shows no such chivalry. 

“Who are you?” he asks, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“’Tsumu at least stop starin’ at her, ya pig,” the guy in the kitchen snaps, and the blonde rolls his eyes before making a big show of holding his hands up to cover his gaze.

(You’re pretty sure you still spot him peeking through his fingers.)

“I, uh,”—the dark haired one clears his throat a bit awkwardly—“I’ve got a hoodie over here if ya need somethin' to put on.”

You don’t know who these two are, but they seem to be right at home in Suna's apartment, so you don’t feel as though you’re in any great degree of danger. You consider this for a moment, and then approach the kitchen tentatively.

The man hidden behind the orange juice is gesturing vaguely to what you’re pretty sure he thinks are the barstools along one side of the kitchen island, but is actually a bowl of fruit—but you find a soft black sweatshirt all the same, tugging it quickly on over you’re head.

“I’m decent,” you remark, letting the gentleman in front of you know it’s safe to lower his citrus shield now that you're all covered up.

“Yeah you are,” the blonde in the other room mutters appreciatively under his breath, and you toss an unamused look over your shoulder in his direction. He slumps back onto the sofa, avoiding your gaze.

“Sorry 'bout him,” the man in front of you says with a long sigh that gives you every impression that it’s not the first time he’s had to apologize on the other’s behalf. “He’s like a dog.”

You hum, glancing over at the blonde again. He’s looking your way but quickly busies himself with his cellphone when he sees you turn in his direction.

“He needs better training,” you note, and the dark haired man laughs, loud and sincere.

“I don’t disagree.” 

The man in front of you can at least meet your eyes now that you’re covered up, and he bows politely in your direction to finally greet you properly.

“I’m Osamu,” he says. 

You dip down slightly to do the same. “Yua.”

“What are ya doin’ at our Sunarin’s place, Yua-chan?” the blonde on the couch calls over to you, but you don’t bother sparing him a glance—or offering him any kind of reply.

“That’s my brother, Atsumu,” Osamu explains, and you nod a little—having pieced at least that bit of information together on your own. 

“I see you inherited all the charm,” you remark, and Osamu smiles a little shyly, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah, but I got all the looks.” Suddenly, Atsumu sidles up alongside you, and you startle at his unexpected nearness. You blink up at him in surprise, all at once realizing just how big these twins are—tall, broad, visibly strong frames nearly identical between them. He smiles down at you, dipping closer to your face and batting his eyelashes sweetly. “Dontcha think?”

You don’t have time to tell him what you think, as it turns out, because a figure steps into view on the other side of the kitchen that serves as a distraction.

“What are you doing in my house?” 

Suna’s expression is severe as he takes in the scene before him, though his eyes seem particularly focused on Atsumu at your side.

“There he is,” Osamu remarks lightly, and there’s a lilt of something in his voice that seems like anticipation—like he knows how this is all about to play out.

“We were ‘sposed to meet here after the meeting this morning, remember?” Atsumu says, turning to the man on the other side of the room. He slings an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side. “Ya didn’t tell us you’d have company, Sunarin.” 

“Get out.”

You’ve never heard Suna’s voice so cold in all the time you’ve known him.

Impassive, yes. Irritated, on occasion. 

Never so hostile.

Atsumu opens his mouth as if to complain, but his brother doesn’t give him the chance.

“You heard the man, Tsumu,” he says, rounding the kitchen island and closing that gap between him and his brother in two long strides. He grabs Atsumu by the scruff of his t-shirt and drags him towards the door, passing Suna as they go.

You spot the unmistakable glimpse of a tattoo on Atsumu’s back as his brother tows him along by his collar.

Ah.

That explains it.

“Sorry, Suna,” you hear Osamu mutter as the two of them pass the man standing there watching them go.

“Wait,” you call, suddenly finding your voice. 

All three men flinch at the sound, pausing to look at you.

“Your sweater,” you say, holding up your hands where the sleeves of his hoodie have them swallowed.

Osamu smiles stiffly, dipping his head ever so slightly in a nod. “You keep that fer now, I’m not too worried about it.”

You let your hands drop, and the twins disappear from view. You hear a bit of bickering, and then the sound of the front door closing behind them.

Suddenly it’s just you and Suna, all alone.

It’s preternaturally quiet once the twins are gone, their absence acutely noticeable like a storm once it recedes. It makes you shift your weight from one foot to the other nervously.

You glance into the kitchen where there’s still something cooking on the stove—seemingly abandoned in Osamu’s haste to flee. 

“He was cooking something,” you remark quietly. Suna makes no move to tend to it, so you round the kitchen island and take the overcooked eggs off the heat, setting the skillet on an unlit burner and extinguishing the one it had previously been resting on. 

You turn back towards the living room, and find Suna has approached you in the time your back was turned to him, closer now than he has been since he arrived home.

“I thought it was you,” you explain quietly after a moment, fiddling with the sleeve of the sweatshirt on your frame. “I heard noises when I woke up so I just thought…”

Suna catches your hand in his own, his eyes fixed to the hoodie that you wear.

“I couldn’t find my clothes,” you explain, sensing what’s making the unhappy little expression tug at the corner of his mouth.

Suna’s eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“I took them to be dry cleaned,” he replies, glancing over to the counter. He’d been carrying a few things when he came in, but you hadn’t paid them much attention. There’s a garment bag resting across the marble, and a shopping bag from a familiar store on top.

A lingerie store.

“Well, I took whatever could be salvaged anyway,” Suna murmurs, tugging you into his chest and nosing at your ear. 

Your cheeks feel warm.

Suna’s hands slip up underneath the sweatshirt, peeling it slowly up off of your body. You let him do so without complaint, watching as he tosses it aside haplessly into the living room once he’s fully removed it. 

“Better?” you ask him dryly as he peers down at you.

He smiles a little, leaning down so his mouth is poised just over your own.

“Much.”

In between needy, feverish kisses, Suna lifts you up to sit atop the kitchen island, slotting himself in between your parted legs.

“Suna,” you mumble as he mouths his way down your throat, your lips kiss-bitten and stinging. He ignores your call of his name, running his tongue along your clavicle before nipping at it gently. You grip gently at the hair of his nape, tugging a bit. “Suna.”

He pulls away, his expression hazy and his breaths coming fast.

“I should go,” you say to him quietly, and you’re sure the regret you feel is evident in your words. “I have to go home. I have to work tonight.”

Suna’s expression changes, hardens a bit, he tucks his face back into the crook of your neck.

This time when he bites it isn’t gentle.

You moan at the feeling of his teeth pressing into your skin, your legs tightening where they're wrapped around his waist, your hands holding him to your neck a little tighter where they're tangled in his hair. He presses a series of kisses to the spot he’s just marked, soft like an apology.

A chiming sound from the end of the counter tears your attention away from the ache of your throat.

Your head turns towards the sound, but Suna is quick to guide your face back towards his, kissing you sweetly. He leans you back until you're flat against the counter, his broad frame hovering over you like he's shielding the rest of the world from view.

It almost works.

“Did you take my phone with you this morning when you left?” you ask him, panting the question out against his beseeching mouth.

Suna pulls away slightly.

“I took your purse by accident,” he explains. “I didn’t realize until I went to pick your clothes up from the dry cleaners. They set it aside in a separate bag.”

You purse your lips, letting your head loll to the side and turning your face away from him.

“I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon,” Suna insists, pressing a kiss to the edge of your jaw. “I had to go somewhere for work, and I didn’t know it would take me as long as it did.”

He places a chaste peck to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your mouth.

Your eyes search his, but you can’t seem to find any guilt behind them.

You soften after taking a moment to mull over his apology, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he pulls you upright on the counter.

“Let’s get you home,” he says, running his hands along your thighs, kneading his thumbs into them every so often. 

“If you pass me my phone, I’ll call the club. They may have a driver they can send for me,” you say, glancing towards the pile of your things at the other end of the island. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Suna says, and you tilt your head to the side as you turn to face him again.

He fishes a set of car keys out from the pocket of his joggers, and they jingle as he twirls them around his finger.

“I can take you home myself.”

You pause, hesitating.

He picks up instantly on your reluctance.

“Or I could call the driver from last night,” he assures you, his tone even and obliging. He presses another featherlight kiss to your lips. “It’s entirely up to you.”

Your fingers twist in the material of his sweatshirt, considering it for a moment. You fiddle idly with the strings of his hoodie, twirling them around our fingers until the blood flow starts to slow, deprivation prickling in the very tips.

You’ve never let a client drive you home before.

Never even let a client know what neighbourhood you live in.

But this is Suna.

And Suna’s different…

“Yeah, okay,” you murmur, peeking up at him shyly. “You can take me if you want.”

… Isn’t he?

[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.”

[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.

[i-cant-sing]

Wait, are oikawas fangirls genuinely yanderes for us, or are they just doing it all of oikawa?

I mean, they started off and still are majorly yanderes for Oikawa, but you... have grown over them a little. Sure, they hated you at first but when Oikawa made it clear how he viewed you as a little sibling, you became way more tolerable to them. Of course, there were still times when they disliked how openly you admitted to hating Oikawa, not even bothering to hide your disgust and annoyance of the man, but when they cleared up a few misconceptions and threatened you, you also started to sing his praises like they did, even if they had to tell you word by word what to say exactly.

Eventually, when the fear washed off and all of your friends abandoned you, you started to befriend some of the fangirls too. And they had also started to see what Oikawa saw in you- you're just a soft, naive idiot that needs to be protected because you clearly don't know what's good for you.

And since you had befriended them, they also started easing up on you- letting you stay up past bedtime to play games, letting you keep your socials, even allowing you to go on dates.

The last thing was something Oikawa was definitely not happy about when he found out. And it was one of the few times when Oikawa genuinely lashed out at his fangirls, letting them witness just a crumb of his unbridled rage and sadistic controlling nature.

"Why the fuck would you let her date ANYONE?!" He yelled at one of the leaders of the fanclub, who all but cowered at his harsh tone.

"Tooru- I just- we- I thought that it would be nice for Y/n! She just spoke so fondly of this guy, her crush! And I just thought that she deserved some love too! The same way you love us, right?" But Oikawa all but grabbed her by neck and pinned her to the wall as he glared at her with murderous intent.

"No."

No?

"No. Y/n will not date anyone. She will not fuck anyone. She will not kiss, hug or even talk to anyone except us. My love and your love should be enough for her. Don't fucking spoil her and make her a whore like yourself." Oikawa let go of her neck, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. "You will go and find her right now. I want her in the girls dorm in an hour. You know better than to disappoint me, don't you?" He asked the fanclub who all but nodded in agreement before beginning to leave.

"And girls?" They halted.

"You better hope that crush of hers doesn't touch her, or else I'll be crushing all of your legs."

The fangirls left, all with one worry.

How the fuck are they gonna stop Bokuto from touching you?

The man literally hugged the fangirls when you agreed to go on a date with him.

I wasn't sure who to make reader date? Initially, I wanted Ushijima but I've written a lot for him. Then Kita, Kuroo, Bokuto, Miya twins, etc came to mind.

I just miss haikyuu a lot

[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”