#yandere sakusa kiyoomi x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunnykawa · 1 month

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all mine (sakusa x f. reader)

summary: Big brother Sakusa has to deal with his flirty little sister. word count: 6k? warnings: 18+, sexual themes, incest, noncon/dubcon/rape, voyeurism kinda, some yandere themes, sakusa is delusional a/n: just a little thing i wrote out of nowhere to let out some steam and because battle of the garbage dump got released in japan and yeahh i just thought about my handsome man LMAOO. sorry if it's not that great since it's been like how long?? but enjoy!! also no this isn't a part 3 to my fic from 4 years ago lolol and excuse any of my typos 😵‍💫

Sakusa doesn’t know if he should be mad or not. The glow of his alarm clock is illuminating his dark room with the soft moonlight slightly peeking in through the blinds. He runs his hands through his curls before he sighs and puts his pillow over his face.

He can hear you. The soft moans and suppressed whimpers coming from plump, swollen lips can be easily heard through your thin walls. If he closes his eyes and really focuses, he could hear how wet your pussy is as you get drilled right next door—right next to the wall, too, because he knows that you prefer your bed in the corner of the room and the sound of the bed creaking is getting unapologetically louder and louder. He was supposed to be asleep an hour ago for early volleyball practice the next morning, but instead he’s listening to you. Every little noise, every creak, every word that slips out of your clenched teeth as you try to be as quiet as you can—”Please,” you beg in a broken voice, “Y-you’re so big, ‘Tsumu.”

’Tsumu; the little nickname that makes his blood boil and all he can think about is how much of a fucking asshole he is. Yeah, he should be mad—he has every right to be angry, he thinks. Sakusa has to see Atsumu Miya’s cocky face and disgustingly bleached hair at volleyball practice every week and now he has to hear the fucker himself fucking his little sister into oblivion in the next room.

And now it’s getting hot in his own room! He scratches the side of his neck in irritation. Why does it feel like his comforters are suffocating him? Sakusa throws his pillow across the room and rips the blankets off of himself. The tip of his hard cock is peeking out from one of the legs of his boxers, almost as if his body is mocking him for feeling this way—for getting hard at the sound of his little sister getting split open. He grimaces for a second, but the guilt and shame can hit him later. Right now it’s too fucking hot.

So, he’s angry because he hates Atsumu—hates how Atsumu has managed to infiltrate his professional life and personal life in such a gross way. Why is Sakusa bitterly pushing his boxers down around his thick thighs? His cock springs free and he grips the shaft harshly.

“Fuck,” Sakusa mutters. He starts slowly, gently pumping his hand around his cock. It’s warm in his hand and twitching at the small bursts of pleasure, enough to allow a pained moan out through gritted teeth. When was the last time he even had someone over to use their body how he pleased? He wishes he could ignore it—ignore you—but all he does is pick up his pace as he listens to the sound of your cunt getting destroyed and your sickeningly sweet begging for Atsumu to fuck you harder.

Oh, he’s mad—so mad that everything is throbbing from his head to the head of his dick. He hisses at the pain in his temples but it does little to stop him from continuing to fist his cock.

“‘Tsumu!” he hears you cry out. The sound of your headboard slamming against the wall is getting even louder, accompanied by the slick noises coming from between your legs and skin slapping against skin. The room feels like a sauna at this point, but nonetheless, Sakusa squeezes his eyes shut as he picks up speed and fucks into his own hand like a pervert at the sound of his little sister.

Would you be scared of him if you knew how badly he wanted to be in Atsumu’s place? How he wants to rip Atsumu away from you and make you cum on his cock the way he wants to? His skin is getting sticky from his sweat—his arm is getting tired from how fast he’s pumping his cock, desperate to release his frustrations in a stream of hot white liquid and how he wishes he could paint your face with it. He imagines how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock—if you would beg for him through watery eyes and tear-stained puffy cheeks trying to put all of him in your mouth. Is his cock too big for you? Is your pussy as warm and sopping wet as he imagines it is?

“I’m gonna cum!” you scream, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Your voice cracks when you chant for Atsumu. Sakusa’s whole body tenses, every single nerve and muscle in his body on fire because damn it, he wants to be the reason why you're screaming and convulsing and crying from pleasure like a whore.

Then with a few more strokes of his cock, he releases his cum in heavy streams that land in a sticky mess on his sheets and lower abs. He groans as his cock twitches against his aching fingers. After a few seconds, he lets go of his shaft and lets it fall against his pelvis. It’s like the whole world has stopped—there’s no more erotic noise coming from your side of the wall. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the sound of labored breaths and giggling. He wonders if Atsumu is going to cuddle you to sleep and stay the night or if he’s going to run away and leave you yearning for more.

Embarrassment creeps onto his cheeks with how fast he came, but as fast as the embarrassment comes, the guilt suddenly settles deep into his stomach, into his joints, into every muscle of his being. Sakusa is disgusted with himself for letting his lust take over during a moment of weakness—lust for his imouto who doesn’t know any better, who is in the prime of her life to fuck around and find out without much of a care in the world, who doesn’t think about the consequences. Sakusa can’t do that like you do, it’s not built into him except for the few times where he did let loose—although he’s not as sloppy as you. Sometimes it feels like you were raised in different households. It shouldn’t be a surprise to him that you flirt and fuck with his volleyball teammates—or anyone that breathes in your direction for that matter. It shouldn’t—but for the first time in his life, he asks himself that if you undress for anyone…then why not for him?

He curses to himself. His expectations are too unrealistic. You’re siblings! And he knows that you both could and should never unless you wanted to ruin your relationship and test your morals. He reaches over to the towel hanging on his desk chair and quickly wipes away the mess he made. A nice, steamy shower pops into his mind, but he’s too tired to wash away his sins.

The room gets colder and his transgressions have nowhere to go, marinating into his skin, reminding him that he’s a shitty big brother for wanting to ravage you from the inside. As his mind goes hazy from how sleepy he is, he also hears a door open and shut followed by heavy footsteps and another door—your door and the front door. A small smirk finds its way across his lips. Sakusa may have a sick attraction to his little sister that he may have recently discovered, but at least he’s never lonely. You, however—

You can never make them stay long.

“Omi-nii~!” Sakusa hears you sing, bouncing through the hallways of your shared apartment until he feels you wrap your arms around his naked waist. He’s in the kitchen warming up the leftovers you cooked earlier in the day over the stove, looming over the counter and scrolling away at his phone.

He scoffs and leans away from you in mock disgust, “Weren’t you sick last week? Get off me before you give me your disease.”

“I don’t have one! I’m clean!” you whine with a pout, squeezing your arms around him tighter. You press the front of your body against his back, a gesture that makes Sakusa feel fuzzy, especially when you also press your nose against his bare back to inhale his scent. There’s something so intimate with the way you’re not even scared to hold him while he’s not wearing a shirt. His skin is fresh from the shower and his hair is slightly damp. He pulls away to look at you when he notices how nicely dressed you are.

With a raised brow, he asks, “Where the hell are you going this late?” You pull away from him to adjust your dress. He turns to face you, his eyes going up and down your body with sick thoughts beginning to cloud his brain—sick, twisted thoughts that should have never crossed his mind.

“First of all—” you say, rolling your eyes at him, “—it’s not late. It’s literally only six-thirty, you weirdo.” Sakusa narrows his eyes as he begins to scowl. But despite his obvious look of you better not be going out like that, you happily ignore him. “Second of all, I’m going out on a date!”

“A date with who?” he asks sharply, folding his arms against his chest and straightening his posture. He always does this to tower above you, to hopefully make you feel smaller than you are. It worked much better when you were both younger.

You bite your lip before giggling his name, “Atsumu.” You seem to get bubbly as his name rolls off of your tongue naturally with a smile playing at your lips and warm cheeks to accompany it. Maybe his heart aches a bit with jealousy when you say that stupid name, a feeling that makes the guilt settle heavily again. The last time he heard you say his name—moan his name—was a few nights ago when he did something no brother should ever do, separated by a few inches of thin walls. As quick as he is to question you, he is also quick to shake those damning thoughts out of his head before they manifest into something more and he ends up losing it in the kitchen you share. He’s scared that he might never forgive himself if he does.

“Since when the hell did you get so close?” Sakusa shoots you another question with furrowed brows. As monotonous as Sakusa usually is, the distaste is present in his tone and his stance.

“I don’t know,” you sigh so dreamily, “It just happened. I didn’t know he could be so sweet.” He could vomit if he had the chance. Out of all people—Atsumu? Really? Sweet?!

“Well, I guess you do have a disease then,” he retorts, sticking his nose up in disgust, “He’s sick in the head, (Y/N). I thought you had better taste in men but here you go fucking around with my teammate—”

“Omi-nii...” you pout.

“—like he’s the only guy you know. I expected better from you,” Sakusa continues with a puff of his chest. He turns away from you to turn the stove off. “He’s always sick, too. Always getting a cold and then going to practice like he’s not contagious.”

It’s Atsumu taking his little sister away from him that angers him more than he could ever imagine—but it’s also knowing that he will never be the one between your thighs that makes him so disappointed. There’s a silence in the room that creeps up his back.

“You’ve been so out of character recently, Nii-san,” you ponder behind him, placing your finger on your chin to pretend that you’re thinking, “It’s not like you to lose your cool over a guy. Are you…

…jealous?”

No.

He’s just looking out for you—he’s your big brother after all! But he doesn’t know how to respond and stands still, holding his breath. Deny, deny, deny. He turns his head to look at you in his peripherals; you’re staring right at him with the same sweet eyes that he remembers from your childhood. Maybe he has been out of character—did you really notice? As it feels like some kind of tension is suffocating him and the ground is going to swallow him, you crack a wide smile and start giggling uncontrollably, which instantly makes him frown.

This is why you two are complete opposites—Sakusa; as serious as ever and always playing the voice of reason like a good older brother, and you; the first to laugh when it’s quiet and always being the fun little sister when things get too serious for your liking. You skip towards him and wrap your arms around him again with the biggest smile on your face, snuggling your nose into the skin of his back.

“You’ll always be my favorite, Omi-nii. I love you more than any boy in the world,” you hum. He wonders if you can hear his heart beating louder with each syllable of your words.

Sakusa could laugh. Usually he would, before pushing you off and scolding you for getting too close to him. But his heart continues to thump and his voice gets stuck in his throat when your hand slides down his abs and brushes lightly over his twitching cock. It’s not like him to lose his composure like this. You place a saccharine kiss on the curve of his back before you hastily let go of him and walk away.

You didn’t touch him enough for him to say anything—to reprimand you for touching your Onii-san like that—but just enough for your touch to linger where it shouldn't.

A soft knocking at Sakusa’s bedroom door stirs him awake. He groggily twists and turns under his bed sheets, irritated that someone would wake him so late at night. He hears the ‘click’ of the door knob and the hinges creaking as the door opens.

“Omi-nii?” you whisper gently from your place at the door. Sakusa ignores you easily, choosing to keep his eyes shut in hopes that maybe you’ll leave him alone and let him have his peace.

“Omi-nii,” you call his name louder and more firmly, “Onii-san, are you awake?”

What a stupid question, he thinks to himself, but Sakusa figures that you’re not going to leave his room any sooner, so he finally opens one of his eyes slowly to see your head peeking into his room. It’s dark—you’re almost just a black silhouette in his blurry vision, but he can make out your soft and surprisingly tired features just enough. “What, (Y/N),” he groans, his voice gravelly with fatigue.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Your voice is timid when you ask—it brings Sakusa back to when you two were younger and you were just as shy to ask him the same question—and the same question is what prompts him to suddenly sit up, letting his bed sheets fall to expose his lean upper body. He rubs at his eye before looking up to gaze at you, clad in a shirt of his (that he begrudgingly noticed went missing months ago) engulfing your figure.

Omi-nii’s shirts are way more comfier than mine, you would whine. He would roll his eyes and snap at you, usually, but would still let you take his shirts anyway. The perverted part of him secretly loves how his clothes fit you.

Sakusa doesn’t ask and figures that it’s best that he doesn’t. He sees the way you’re twiddling with the bottom of his shirt between shaky fingers. He could tell you that he was right all along, laugh in your face, anything to rub it in—instead, he pulls the covers aside and scoots over, creating an empty space for you, just for you.

“Come here,” he mutters, loud enough for you to hear. You move instantly, your feet delicately pitter pattering against his hardwood floors. The mattress dips lightly as you climb into his bed. You pull his blanket up to your chin instantly and Sakusa grabs whatever he can get. “Go to sleep, (Y/N).” Without another word, he turns away from you and settles into his sleeping position on his side.

After a few moments of silence, you mumble something Sakusa can’t quite make out. And when he chooses not to respond, you say it again, “Can you hold me, Onii-san?” Then his body completely stiffens in response. He always said yes when you two were kids—hell, even when you were teenagers and it was definitely considered inappropriate by then. Would it be weird if he said no now?

But he sighs, knowing that he can't just say no. He turns around and drags himself closer to you, lifting his arm so that you can move underneath it and press yourself into the front of his body. His breath hitches as you do, an all too familiar heat igniting in his stomach as the curves of your body fit perfectly against him.

When he wraps his arm around you, he suddenly feels so complete and so awful, almost having to hold back on how tightly he wants to really hold you. This time he can inhale the scent of your hair—a mixture of whatever shampoo and conditioner you keep in your rotation and your favorite leave-in conditioner. The skin on your arms is soft from your lotion, your legs are smooth and buttery against him, and fuck are you so warm. He could absolutely eat you up right here if you’d let him. Maybe in your vulnerable state of mind…you wouldn’t say no.

Sauksa doesn’t know what demon has decided to possess him. He’s been thinking too much for the past few weeks for sure. A little earworm is corrupting him, whispering in his ear and daring him to do something and destroy you.

His hands are moving on their own. They slip underneath your shirt—hot fingertips caressing your skin so carelessly and trailing up and down your hips. He wants to laugh because you’re only wearing panties. How obvious can you get? If you were thinking about him the same way he thought about you, you could have just said something.

You tense up at his unexpected touch, but don’t move away from him—you don’t even say a word, not when his hand slides up to cup one of your tits to pull you closer to him, not when he decides to press his hard cock against your ass, not a single word.

Sakusa thinks he’s been too hard on himself recently, especially with how his feelings about you have changed so drastically. You’re not ready for him like that, that much is obvious with how much you’re shivering, but he deserves this after all the mental anguish you put him through because of how stupid you are.

First, you fuck his dumb teammate in the apartment that Sakusa pays for. And out of all the teammates, you choose the one who used to have piss blond hair back in high school and still slurs his words. Second, you have the audacity to touch him and kiss him and tease him, knowing that he can never have you the way that he wants. Third, you wake him up in the middle of the night to sleep in his bed in one of the shirts he’s been looking for for months and just your thin panties that leave so little to the imagination—

“Omi?” you quavered, knocking him out of his thoughts. Oh, he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing you or how rough his grip is on your perky tits. He also didn’t realize how he started grinding himself against your ass, wedging his covered cock between your covered asscheeks in an attempt to feel the warmth from your core. The guilt should have been settling in him again, yet to his surprise, he feels…nothing. All he wants is to hold you down against the bed and wreck your insides until you bleed and beg for him.

“Omi-nii!” A panicked gasp escapes you and suddenly Sakusa is on top of you, holding you down by your wrists. You gaze up at him, lips parted in shock, eyes so wide, and the first thing that goes through his mind is beautiful. He leans down and presses his lips against yours, leaving you so shocked that your entire body freezes.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, and his words flip a switch in your brain. You’re already fighting against him, desperate to escape from his hold on your wrists and the sins he’s planting on your lips and for the first time in your life you’re actually scared of him.

Sakusa grips your wrists even tighter and hisses as you squirm, “I said hold still.”

Then you force yourself to relax with no choice but to let Sakusa explore your mouth. Your hesitation is obvious (of course, it is) and instead of pulling back and knocking sense into himself, he’s offended—out of all the guys you let violate your body, you won’t let your own brother do the same?

He disconnects from you to grip both your wrists above your head, holding you down easily with one hand. Then his other hand quickly pushes the bottom of your shirt up to your stomach to display your bottom half and grabs the top of your panties. You’re horrified as Sakusa effortlessly rips your panties off of you and throws the shredded pieces off to the side, exposing you to the cold air and to your brother’s eyes.

Your brother’s eyes. You can feel the bile coming up to your throat at the realization. Your brother is going to do something to you against your will and you can’t do anything to stop him because he’s bigger and stronger than you and you live alone together. As you make eye contact with him, it’s like you can’t even recognize him. You jerk your body away in a feeble attempt to free yourself, but it’s no use.

“Stop!” you cry, ashamed, scared, and so confused, “Nii-san, stop!”

He splits your thighs apart with his own muscled thighs and you feel so weak trying to close them again, to hide that part of you that your big brother should never ever see.

But to Sakusa, it’s a sight that he wishes he could see over and over again and he has no problem taking his chances if it means that he can have you—he’s already gone way too far, past the point of return, and he doesn’t want to care anymore about what consequences his actions might bring. A small smirk appears on his face as he looks down at you, so vulnerable and small underneath him. He doesn’t want to waste time—his boxers are already down his thighs and his cock is free. You’re looking down at his cock with pure fear on your face—fuck, he’s big, so big that you’re dumbfounded that he’s even real. But he’s also your brother. You literally grew up together and he still takes care of you and you see each other everyday.

You want to look away but you can’t. Although your vision is blurry due to your tears, you can still see him and only him. “This is why you asked to sleep with your nii-san tonight, right?” he breathes, looking down at you with a hunger in his eyes that you’ve never seen or noticed before. You’re shaking your head no. Never. You were just sad and needed your big brother to comfort you without asking any questions.

“Stop lying to me, (Y/N). You know what you’re doing,” he scoffs, “I’ll take care of you. Just like I always have.” Then, he grabs the back of your thigh with his free hand to hoist one of your knees up against your chest, exposing you even more than you already are. Before you can even process it, the head of his hard cock is pressing against your entrance so delicately and so carefully but it’s terrifying all the same.

A loud gasp escapes you and you attempt to yank yourself away from him again. Tears are fully streaming down your face now, dampening your hair and the sheets. Your chest is tightening— you’re so scared. You don’t even know what Sakusa is talking about so you're even more puzzled. As far as you know, you’ve been the same as you’ve always been. “Don’t d-do that,” you beg with a crack in your voice, “Omi-nii, please.”

But Sakusa is pleased to hear your broken voice—irritated that you don’t want him to continue, sure, but pleased nonetheless. He’s always wanted to see you like this underneath him and he finally has you. Your legs spread wide open for him to feast on is something that seemed so unobtainable yet you’re in his bed, exposed and ready.

Please.

He pushes through the tight rings of your pussy until he completely fills you up—the tip of his cock is fighting its way through plush walls to kiss your cervix and you swear that your world has shattered into a million tiny pieces. A sob breaks free from your throat.

The room is ice cold. There’s no more air in your lungs as you convulse around him. You can hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears but everything is so silent. Sakusa lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding and suddenly everything is okay now—he knows that there was no demon possessing him to think about you in such a dirty way because it was really him all along. All his sick fantasies and insatiable desires, dreams of devouring you, and all those sleepless nights imagining what you would look like with his cock so deep inside you that you couldn’t breathe—it was just him, so painfully in love with you even if he can’t have you. And now he’s inside of you. He’s actually inside of you.

“Fuck,” he curses in a strained voice, “You’re so fucking tight, fuck.” It feels as if your mind and body are attempting to recover from the shock of Sakusa forcing himself inside your cunt but there’s no time for recovery at all—hell, you’re both surprised that he even managed to slide into you as easily as he did.

Then he starts moving, slow and steady to open you up more. The sting of him stretching you is enough to make you let out a few wails between quivering lips. You can physically feel your walls shudder around his length and your nerves are practically screaming, ringing your inner alarms, knowing that this is so fucking wrong.

“Get the fuck off of me!” you sob, attempting to jerk your wrists away from his one-handed grip. You’re not even sure when you became so weak, even with adrenaline coursing through your veins. And you’re even more shocked when he lets go of your wrists for a split second only to hold you by the throat firmly.

“You need to shut the fuck up sometimes,” Sakusa breathes with a hint of annoyance. Your shaky hands find their way to wrap around his wrist, nails clawing at his skin, hopelessly trying to loosen his grip. His cock is still moving dangerously inside you, filling you up and then leaving you empty with just his tip, only to fill you up again. The slow rhythm of his hips pressing against yours is tormenting—your skin is crawling with every moment that your hips meet and you wonder if he moved more then would time go by faster?

Labored breaths and wheezes are the only sounds that you’re able to let out with Sakusa’s hand on your throat. There’s fatigue creeping in your bones yet you feel the energy in your veins and it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing makes sense and everything hurts and just—why?

“C-Can’t…breathe,” you manage to gasp out. As much as you want to stay awake, afraid of what your older brother might do to you if you pass out, you can see your vision starting to blur and your brain beginning to turn into mush. Your hands are loosening their grip around his arm that’s holding you captive. He’s squeezing your throat tighter and tighter.

You just needed someone—needed your onii-san to help you during this fucked up time between you and Atsumu. Usually he’d be on top of you like this, fucking you until you cry for him and cum all over his cock. You’d moan and drool and beg—anything for him to claim you over and over again. Instead of seeing stupid bleached hair and flirty eyes, you see black curls and dispassionate voids gazing at you as you’re about to pass out and it’s like he doesn’t even fucking care! You just wanted to feel better and to feel your onii-san’s comfort again and he decides to touch you and—

He presses his forehead against yours all of a sudden, and you can barely hear him when his lips start moving. “...What?” you choke out through wheezes.

“If you want me to let go, you have to let me fuck you as hard as I want,” he repeats himself firmly. You don’t realize that he’s stopped moving inside you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. All you know is that you need to breathe and maybe that desperation is what makes you attempt to nod your head in agreement. A smirk appears on Sakusa’s face and before you can even register what's going on, he’s straightening up to thrust his cock even deeper into your core and he finally lets go of your throat.

You’re coughing and sputtering, oddly embarrassed at how much saliva you’re spitting out, and you’re hyper aware that you have him inside you again, deep inside you and painfully stretching you to the point where you’re afraid that he’s going to rip you in half. Sakusa grabs the backs of your thighs and presses both your knees against your chest again, leaving his hands there to hold you down once more and to expose your pussy to the cold air. You feel the warmth spread across your cheeks from how embarrassing it is to be on full display and how repulsive it is that it’s Sakusa between your legs to ogle at you as much as he pleases. You wonder what changed between you two—has he always felt this way? It makes you sick to your stomach to imagine that your brother that you love so dearly and looked up to your whole life wants you and it’s diabolical how this is what he wants from you.

And when he starts thrusting harder than before, slamming his cock into you with such a force that your body lurches with his movements, your brain is back to turning into mush and a part of you wishes that you did pass out—at least you wouldn’t have to be conscious to feel everything. You can’t help but let out quiet whimpers and gasps that don’t even sound like you. It hurts—the stretch of his thick cock is so unbearable and his hands on your thighs are sure to leave ugly bruises.

“You feel so good,” he almost laughs, like he can’t believe this is happening. You are as soft as he imagined, maybe even more, and how easily your pussy starts creaming around him makes his heart skip a beat. When he presses his forehead against yours again, you want to recoil even though you physically can’t. You don’t want to look him in the eyes yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. You don’t even know if you can hate him after this and Sakusa knows that—how you love him so much, even if it’s not the way that he wants you to—

—because you need him.

It’s nauseating how much you still need him. It’s horrifying how your legs are beginning to shake from how deep he is and how he’s shoving himself against your cervix unkindly. Most of all, it’s disgusting how you can feel—even hear—the puddle pooling from your cunt, forcing you to stretch to accommodate his size—and maybe in the midst of your hysterical state, maybe Sakusa feels good, too.

You can’t admit that—you definitely don’t want to—but for fuck’s sake, you know what your body likes and although it’s Sakusa punishing you in the worst way possible, you recognize that tightness in your stomach—the corrupt feeling that makes you scream and cry and beg, that makes your body writhe in desperation to have more. Fuck, it’s morally wrong but at the same time, your body loves to feel full and stretched to its limits. You’re so sad that Atsumu “broke up” with you (you weren’t really dating in the first place) because Atsumu knew your body so well and his dick was huge. You really shouldn’t be comparing since the thought is so sickening, yet the way Sakusa is splitting you open is different—so different from Atsumu with no gentleness, no delicacy, just pure lust and a desire to fuck you until you faint and it’s…better. It shouldn’t be better, shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but it's better.

When the realization hits you, the shame and embarrassment floods your stomach, too—how could you let your own brother fuck you like this and how could you enjoy it? And now you’re angry at yourself, for how Sakusa is making you feel, how your body is reacting, how raw and wet your pussy, how Atsumu blindsided you, how this whole situation is so fucking unfair.

“Omi-nii,” you whine with a dry throat, reaching up to grab his thick biceps, all tensed up and veiny from gripping your thighs and turning them purple. His muscles are so well-defined that you almost forget that he’s your brother and start melting into his skin. The base of his cock is hitting your clit every time your hips meet, sending shocks of pleasure all throughout your core. The walls of your cunt are convulsing around him. It shouldn’t feel good, it really shouldn’t, but the burning sensation on your thighs from having your knees pressed against your chest to expose your cunt and Sakusa carving the shape of his cock into your pussy is the best fucking thing you’ve ever felt in all your years of living. As guilty as you feel for wanting more, you start to beg for him, “Please make me cum, Omi-nii.”

A smug smile plays on his lips. Your pussy is dripping everywhere, making wet noises every time Sakusa moves, and he thinks he’s finally satisfied. Not completely though, because he wants you to squirt on his cock and he wants you to squirt on his cock every night from now on. He deserves it, deserves this, deserves to be the one inside of you and claiming you and pumping you full of cum.

He leans down and captures your lips with his once again, and this time you let him slip his tongue against yours in a messy passionate kiss. When he lets go of one of your thighs to rub at your clit with his thumb and your body tenses up harshly as a result, he sneers at you, “Cum all over my cock, you bitch.”

Then your cunt tightens around him and you hate that he’s being so mean to you but you cry and scream and dig your nails into his muscles like you’ve never came before because you like how mean he is and the only thing you can pathetically moan is Onii-san~!

He doesn’t stop when you cum, chasing his own high to drown your pussy in his sticky seed and hopefully force another climax out of your body to feed his ego, so he wraps his hands around your throat again while you’re delirious and kisses you again and again. “You can fuck whoever you want,” he mutters against your plump lips, “Think that you know what love is when you have some other loser inside you—”

“—but this stupid cunt is all mine.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu imagines #yandere haikyuu smut #haikyuu smut #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #yandere sakusa x reader #yandered sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #yandere sakusa kiyoomi #yandere kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi smut #kiyoomi sakusa smut #sakusa #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu thirsts #tw yandere #tw noncon

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creative-crybaby · 1 year

Text

Fly on the Wall

PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!reader

GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, noncon, stalking, somnophilia, semi-public masturbation (m), nipple play, fingering (with leather gloves), dacryphilia, cum eating, creampie, size kink, breaking and entering, panty stealing, basically Sakusa is a perv

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k

SUMMARY: The new Black Jackal’s manager catches Sakusa’s eye. Unfortunately, whatever distance, physical or otherwise, is between you two, is too far for his liking. All characters are 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not meant to be a Christmas gift, but my timing does wonders, I guess :/

The Black Jackals getting a manager didn’t excite him the way it did his teammates. The idea itself didn’t bring him dread, of course, but the knowledge that certain players may get distracted–or worse: rowdier–brought more stress to him than he’d appreciate.

Bokuto and Hinata were already babbling on to each other about what you might be like, reminiscing their high school days when they both had two managers on their respective teams. Atsumu joined in, whining that Inarizaki wasn’t as lucky to have a girl manager, let alone two attractive ones. He also bet that you’d be cute—Sakusa could only roll his eyes at the exchange.

You carried yourself with a grace often unfound in volleyball when meeting the team, offering a polite smile as you introduced yourself. Even when bombarded with questions from the boisterous ones (you know the ones), you didn’t falter, even assuring Meian that you didn’t mind the energy: “It’s nice to know I’ll be supporting a passionate team.”

Pretty, Sakusa thinks. You didn’t blow him away, but it was enough for him to acknowledge upon first laying eyes on you. Even he found himself momentarily frozen when you two made brief eye contact.

Regardless, you’re not here for a modelling contract; you’re here to help the team grow to its full potential. The wing spiker may not be praying for your downfall, but he certainly isn’t going to celebrate your arrival too soon, either.

Anyone can refill water bottles and hand out clean towels to sweaty giants. The same goes for taking notes on their progress, especially since you should know how volleyball works. From what Sakusa has observed, you do more than well in that department, too, always ready to correct someone’s form or have a report prepared for Meian in no time. You’re organized, punctual; it helps that you also sprinkle in some encouraging words when necessary. (Certain members are more than happy to gain that praise, which means more headaches on the ravenette’s end.)

It doesn’t take long for you to get him to accept you into the team—in his own way. He doesn’t avoid you like the plague, per se; he merely never saw any reason to put in as much effort to get to know you the way someone like Bokuto or Atsumu would. He was just glad to have one more person to give him some proper feedback.

That distance Sakusa created is seemingly one-sided. There’s no special occasion, either: it was after a practice that partook a few days after a game against the Tachibana Red Falcons. A close match where the Black Jackals managed to pull through, though that wasn’t precisely what consumed the wing spiker’s thoughts at the time. You handed him a neatly folded towel during the athletes’ break, and he nods his thanks. You stay before him, and he peers up at you curiously after wiping his face. Stretching your hand to him, you carry a mini hand sanitizer pack. Nothing special: it’s a standard bottle in a dark red and attachable case.

“Noticed you weren’t a fan of the gifts from some of your fans and would look grossed out when a kid would touch you,” you explain, offering a small smile. “Hope you don’t already have one of these. This was the only normal-looking one I could find. Wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having a giraffe case dangling from your bag.”

You offer a sheepish laugh that Sakusa would refuse to admit is something he’d want to hear again. Not wanting to leave you hanging any longer than he already has, he takes your gift, eventually muttering his thanks.

It’s like a boy clinging onto that one compliment he got a few years back because it’s all he received. A rational voice in his head dismisses your observation as something someone on the team probably mentioned to you—maybe Atsumu made a joke about him being a germaphobe, and you took it seriously.

Still, that’s not a possibility the wing spiker wants to entertain. Not as he goes on with the rest of practice, not when he’s in the changeroom, not when he’s attaching that case to his gym bag, not when he gets home, and certainly not when he goes to bed that night. A small gesture, one probably wouldn’t overthink, lingers in his thoughts until Occasion #2 appears.

Coming back from an away game is one of the few opportunities the volleyball players get to recharge. After packing everything into the bus, each member sits in their unassigned-assigned seat. Or, at least, most of them would. Some chose to sit wherever it was convenient for them: they wanted to carry on their conversation with one of their teammates or maybe get some shut-eye. Sakusa was the latter, opting for a window seat far away from his boisterous colleagues as possible. Ready to close his eyes, he only got a few seconds of relaxation before he sensed some shifting next to him. With furrowed brows, he opens his eyes, ready to tell Atsumu off (let’s be honest, it’s always Atsumu), only to find you making yourself comfortable in the spot next to his instead.

You turn to him somewhat sheepishly. “Hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get some rest, and you’re pretty quiet, so I figured having you as my seating buddy was my best shot.”

You don’t say anything afterwards, waiting for him to tell you to leave him alone. To his surprise (and yours, he’s sure), the wing spiker mumbles a stoic “Go ahead,” his eyes trailing towards the window as he readjusts his mask. Even with his gaze no longer on you, he could hear the smile in your voice as you thank him.

For the next several hours, Sakusa remained awake, thinking about everything and nothing all at once as he’d glance over to your sleeping form every few minutes. Even people like Bokuto and Hinata lost enough energy to fall asleep, but the ravenette didn’t notice. If anything, his entire world dissolved into nothingness as soon as your frame unconsciously leaned on his shoulder. His whole body froze, but surprisingly, not out of disgust. Awkward, perhaps, but he didn’t feel the need to wake you up, let alone push you away.

His senses heightened. With you so much closer, his eyes scanned every detail your face had to offer, every reaction you had in your sleep, from stirring after hitting a speedbump to sighing whenever Saksua dared to take a breath too deep. Speaking of breathing, even with yours being so shallow, he can hear the steady rhythm loud and clear, despite Bokuto’s snoring somewhere in the distance. Your scent attacked his nose, even with the mask shielding most of his face, and he can at least admit to himself that it was refreshing to smell something that wasn’t a bunch of sweaty athletes. It’s just your head on his shoulder, but the ravenette felt you burning your mark into his skin, one he didn’t ever want to wash off. Every sense except for taste—

A speed bump. The last thought retreated as fast as it invaded. The remaining hour and a half to return home flew by with his guilt as a distraction. Even when Atsumu woke up and teased the wing spiker for trying to get close to you, Sakusa didn’t feel the need to reply. He merely looked down at your still-sleeping form for several seconds more before eventually trying to wake you up. He’d rather he didn’t, but something about others seeing you in such a vulnerable state irked him in a way he can only describe as filthy. No amount of water and hand soap can scrub away that dirt, but as soon as your eyes opened and met his before anyone else’s, that itch got scratched. He didn’t register your profuse apologies until a couple of other teammates decided to join in on the teasing, and suddenly Sakusa found his voice.

“It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. And it still isn’t. Maybe you forgot about it or saw that moment as a funny story to share over drinks with friends, but it’s different for the wing spiker. He knows it shouldn’t be, yet here he is, replaying every minor interaction between the two of you. There was a reason for him keeping his distance from you when you first started: you both stick to your tasks during practice and games, only interacting when progress and strategy are the focus. Otherwise, the athlete is back in whatever vacant corner he can find, shrinking his almost 6’’4 frame as much as he can in hopes that he can avoid possible interactions. (And if that means he gets to watch you laugh at something Atsumu said or go over strategy with Meian, then those times in his hiding spot have come with new benefits.)

But he’s not in a corner right now: he’s at Onigiri Miya with his team and EJP Raijin, eyes boring into your frame as his cousin says something he doesn’t quite catch.

The ravenette hums. “What was that?”

“Your new manager’s pretty cute and all,” Komori starts, not too loudly for others to hear, “but if you keep staring at her, you’re going to look like some creep.” Sakusa’s head snaps to the libero, who sheepishly smiles as he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, I get that you were never all that good with girls, but even you should know this stuff by now.”

The wing spiker scoffs at his cousin’s joke, opting to take a bite out of his onigiri instead of replying. You’re listening to whatever story the blonde Miya twin has to share, laughing whenever the younger one butts in with commentary to embarrass the former. Now you watch in amusement as the two lookalikes bicker, and it makes Sakusa realize something: besides the few moments he recalls oh-so fondly, you don’t interact with each other much outside of volleyball.

He glides his thumb across the nori on his food in irritation. The moments shared between you rarely involve anything outside of the sport. For someone as observant as him, the ravenette is almost ashamed he let his very few one-on-one memories of you two distract him from such an obvious (and somewhat embarrassing) fact.

You’ve probably spent more time with a handful of his other teammates. Sakusa recalls Bokuto and Hinata inviting you to a movie marathon at the latter’s place on your day off, though through all that excitement exchanged between them, all he could do was mutter under his breath about them wasting your time. It probably doesn’t matter whether or not you accepted their offer; they still approached you.

The same goes for whatever Atsumu says to you that makes you two snicker under your breaths. Inside jokes, Sakusa is sure of it, though it doesn’t make him scoff any less. If anything, his mood grew sour with every interaction you had that wasn’t with him. Another fact he wasn’t aware of until the blonde setter asked him if the stick up his ass was bigger than it used to be. (The wing spiker’s response to the harmless joke needn’t be shared.)

“Just talk to her.” Komori’s voice brings Sakusa back to Onigiri Miya. Staring; again. Lovely. The ravenette faces his cheerful cousin once more, who offers a chuckle. “I’ll even play wingman if you want.”

The quieter of the two finishes his onigiri before getting up from his seat. The libero watches as his relative puts his MSBY jersey on before heading for the exit. “I’m good, thank you.”

The ravenette risks a glance your way once he makes it to the door. You don’t meet his gaze, still occupied with the twins. No surprise there, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment plunging into his chest as he exits the shop.

That one-sided has seemingly returned since then, though the roles are reversed. Even with the few moments exchanged between you two, Sakusa struggles to pinpoint when he started to care for your attention in the several months you’ve been part of the team. The days when he felt indifferent involved less overthinking and even lesser restless nights; now, he can’t stop nitpicking at whatever detail catches his eye. You styled your hair differently one day; you’re snacking on cheesecake-flavoured Kitkat because it’s your new favourite snack. These notes follow up with nothing on his end except an extra bullet point in his brain’s buzzing list.

It’s a winter evening when he adds his first crucial fact: your home address. An abyss swallows the sky at what seems to be only half past five. Not a usual time for practice, though nothing that disrupted Sakusa’s schedule. He’s making his way to his car when he sees you standing aside, eyes glued to your phone. A rare sight, though not an unwelcomed one.

You’re frowning, the wing spiker notices. He’s approaching you, he notices too little too late. You notice him.

“Oh, Sakusa!” you smile, pocketing your device. “Good work today.” The ravenette doesn’t need his mask to hide his contentment at your praise, though the pride that swells inside him grows challenging to swallow. “Off home to relax?”

His tongue rests between his teeth as he nods, and you hug your coat tighter to your body. His brain screams to carry on a conversation, no matter how small or meaningless, but his eyes seem to do enough as they rake through the parking lot. He’s looking for your car, he realizes, but has no clue as to what it looks like.

“Had to bus here,” you explain sheepishly. Sakusa watches you from the corner of his eye, internally sighing in relief at your (alleged) mind-reading powers. “My car needs fixing, and with practice taking place later on in the day, finding a bus worked better.” Your gaze trails to the streets only a few meters away, exhaustion making them droop. “Guess my supposed ride is being held back, huh?”

“Let me take you home.”

Your head snaps in the wing spiker’s direction, whose eyes slightly widen in shock at his proposition. Now he decides to talk. He digs his nails into the strap of his gym bag, jaw clenching as he tries to appear calm as he awaits your response.

Your brows crease ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

Your voice shrinks at your concern. Sakusa imagines you shrinking under his gaze as well. “You never cause me any trouble.”

Not how he would’ve liked to word it, but it’s too late to take it back. You beam at him, offering your thanks and letting him know you owe him as you step closer to his tall frame. He doesn’t flinch away, instead facing the parking lot once more as he chews on his bottom lip under his mask.

The car ride holds silence throughout the fifteen-to-twenty minutes on his end, with you giving the ravenette directions and discussing the team’s progress. He only offers curt nods and soft hums, not that he minds this time; your sunny tone and presence in such a closed space were more than enough for him. Besides, his brain is occupied with carrying your guidance as you get closer to your destination. Because he’s the driver, and you ought to return home safely. It’s been a long day for both of you: you’re exhausted, and you don’t hide this fact as you slump in the passenger seat and sometimes yawn.

And when you finally tell Sakusa to pull up into your driveway, he can’t help but scan your home with his eyes, wondering which windows expose which room. He sees one with lavender curtains from the interior, and he’s willing to bet that’s your bedroom.

You thank him, and the thought evaporates. He’s tongue-tied once more; he nods, unlocking the passenger door. Offering one more smile, you exit the car, and the wing spiker’s eyes bore into your frame as you walk up your porch and enter your home.

He’s backing out of the driveway when he begins to wonder if there is something different he could have done. The small talk was calming, but he found that he wanted more.

The drive back consists of Sakusa glancing over at where you sat every chance he got. He swallows harshly, fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel at a red light. Even with practice done a while ago, he feels hot. His clothes hug him uncomfortably, and it isn’t until his brain entertains the idea of peering down does he understand why.

He recognizes this street. The ravenette pulls over to a secluded area, quick to unbuckle his seatbelt before throwing his mask off. His chest heaves as he slowly looks down once more as if the first time was just a trick of the lights.

He’s hard. Being alone with you for less than half an hour is enough to make him fucking hard.

He’s also alone. For a second, he recalls keeping a pack of tissues in the glove compartment.

He’s also in his car. His home is not too far from yours, he noticed as you gave him directions.

You were also in his car. The passenger seat pulls Sakusa’s gaze towards it. He’s leaning into where you sat not long ago, and if he focuses hard enough, he can catch a whiff of your perfume.

His cock stirs in his slacks, and the ravenette climbs over the gear shift before his brain can reason with his body.

The passenger’s seat is still a bit warm, he notices upon making himself comfortable in his new spot. The wing spiker shakily exhales as he unzips his pants with great haste, shimmying them down to his thighs. His pace doesn’t slow down when he gets to his briefs, either, opting to tuck the waistband between his balls and dick’s base to free his shaft of its confinements. Only then does he pause, breathing still trembling as he tries to calm himself.

There’s not much time. An empty parking lot when he got there, but it won’t stay that way forever. Sakusa spits into his palm, needing some makeshift lube to start slowly stroking himself. The relief has his eyes fluttering closed and lips parting with a sigh. It isn’t long until he feels some precum sliding down from his slit, and he spreads the stickiness to help with his movements. He takes a deep breath through his nose and again catches your scent.

What if it was your hand pumping his cock instead? It should be. You’d be smiling as you do so, peering up at the wing spiker through your lashes as you ask him how he likes it. Always there to help during practice; how is this any different? You want what’s best for the team, for him. Anything for him—

Sakusa’s choking on a groan as he paints his hand and the glove compartment a creamy white. He doesn’t open his eyes until his high finally descends him back to earth, where he realizes what he’s done.

He groans, in both exhaustion and disgust from the mess in his car and thoughts. He was a teenager when he lasted this long, though the quantity of his release takes him by surprise. Has he truly been pent up for too long? Did you do this?

Sakusa’s quick to take out that tissue pack.

You thank him for the ride home once more the next time you see each other at practice. Other than that, the wing spiker continues to keep his distance. Mainly due to the shame that follows remembering what he’s done after dropping you off, but the one time you two shared eye contact for more than a few seconds when you handed him a towel during a break brought another feeling into the mix: excitement. What for, Sakusa has yet to find out. Or maybe he’s trying to avoid that explanation. Like any minute, you’ll tell him, you know, eyelids heavy as the emphasis tells him more than enough of what you’re talking about. The thought makes his lower stomach churn in an agonizing blender. Then, you’ll pull him into the storage closet, where you’ll—

Say his name. Well, no. Not you. Someone else is saying it. Again and again.

The ravenette blinks back into the real world, masking his fantasy with a blank slate for a face as he turns to look at whoever could need something from him.

“Oh, so yer awake?” Atsumu. Of course. “Still got some energy in me, and I need t’kill a bit of time. Wanna set fer ya fer a bit.”

The grin the faux blonde offers isn’t reciprocated as Sakusa notices front the corner of his eye some of his teammates entering the changeroom. A part of him wants nothing more than to follow them, the clothes clinging to his body from all the sweat making him internally recoil as he wishes for a shower. He also knows this is an opportunity to improve without you there: as much as he enjoys your presence, you become a distraction as a drawback.

The wing spiker sighs. “Only for a little bit.”

Atsumu beams at his teammate’s (albeit reluctant) acceptance, already jogging to fetch a ball to begin.

Sakusa finds his focus coming back with every spike he lands on the other side of the court, slowly but surely returning to normal. Another way to release some steam; he tries not to cringe at the memory of the other tactic from the night before.

The attempt fails as soon as you enter the gym with Meian by your side. The two of you are speaking to each other—about what, the ravenette isn’t sure. He doesn’t get a chance to listen in, anyway.

“Nice kill!” Atsumu chirps, gaining the attention of not just his teammate, but his captain and manager as well. With a final nod, you and Meian go your separate ways; him towards the changeroom and you, the other two athletes.

“Don’t push yourselves too much, guys,” you chuckle. “You already worked hard during practice. Take the time to relax as well.”

Sakusa can barely give you a nod while the setter grins at you.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up before we head out, ‘kay?” The wing spiker’s head snaps towards his teammate with a raised brow. Neither you nor the faux-blonde acknowledge his confusion.

You smile. “Take your time. I’ll just put the net and volleyballs away while you’re at it.”

Atsumu nods before slapping Sakusa’s back and jogging to the changeroom. The ravenette can only look down at a stray ball and pick it up. He remembers enjoying the silence between him and whoever he was with.

“I’ll help,” he mutters, walking away before he can witness your reaction. It’s ridiculous, like some middle school crush: wanting nothing more than to be close to you, but freezing up as soon as it happens. And he can’t avoid you forever–he doesn’t want to–because you eventually meet him at the ball cart, dropping the armful of volleyballs into it. “What was that with Miya earlier?”

His voice finds itself whenever he’d rather it didn’t. He’s curious, sure, but he didn’t need his tone to give away his distaste. He can only hope you dismiss it as Sakusa being Sakusa and nothing more.

With the small smile you give him, the ravenette is certain he’s safe. “Oh, ‘Tsumu invited me to check out this restaurant that recently opened with him after practice. Heard they made some of my favourites there, and I wanted to try them ASAP.”

Sakusa pretends that you being on a first-name basis with the setter doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t respond to your explanation and remains silent as he brings the net down with your help. The next time he acknowledges you is before he rushes to the changeroom to shower, ignoring Atsumu as they cross paths.

He’s at the wrong house.

You’d think one knew the directions to the place they called home, yes? At the very least, have an idea of the area. Yet, it’s only until your driveway makes it to his peripheral vision does the ravenette realize his mistake. And he’s just in time to watch you walk up your porch.

After another restless night, the wing spiker needed to clear his head. His home brought him no distractions, already too tidy to clean, and his mind continuously drifted away when watching recordings of volleyball matches. With a day to himself, he might as well go around town—there’s a mall not too far from his place, he recalls. It was a better attempt at keeping him occupied, though he couldn’t help it when he passed a perfume shop and wondered what scent was your favourite. Or the neighbouring lingerie store, putting whatever scandalous pieces of lace out on display, giving the athlete’s spiralling mind suggestions on what you would look best in. (White, he concluded before processing.)

He didn’t want much, nor did he need much. More or less satisfied with his purchases (and dissatisfied with failing distractions), he’s in his car, ready to head back home.

But he’s not home. Or rather, his house. The latter is a mere building; the former, a sense of comfort. And while there’s guilt bubbling in his chest, witnessing you carry on with your everyday life has him relaxing in his seat.

You were on an errand run, Sakusa observes. Groceries, from what he sees. What would you be making for dinner tonight? He’s too far away to catch what exactly is in your bags. The weather’s fallen to a frigid slumber—stew, perhaps? Or maybe you’ll make some umeboshi—those appeared to be your favourite whenever the team stopped by at Onigiri Miya. He and his teammates have had the opportunity to try some of your cooking firsthand; the ravenette is positive whatever you make will be just as delicious.

Then he remembers yesterday’s interaction, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. Where did you two go? And when did Atsumu get so comfortable with you to take you out? You seemed content and—

And getting angry during this opportunity won’t do him any good. Surprised, Sakusa manages to calm down a little, opting to distract himself with other scenarios.

What could you two eat together? What would you serve him? He lets his thoughts waltz. The two of you share a meal after a long practice, or maybe you cook together on your day off. He’s seen a few romance movies in his life; he can imagine hugging you from behind as you prepared the food, him nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as you both talked about whatever was on your mind. The conversation would continue as the two of you ate at the dinner table, his hand itching to find yours across from him.

And for dessert, he’d have you sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs wide open as he ravaged what’s in between them, your hands clawing at his dark curls as his greed controls his tongue. Or, maybe you’re feeling extra generous and decide to help him relax after a tiring practice, lowering to your knees to take every inch of his—

You’re struggling to open your front door. Too many bags in your hands—the wing spiker has half a mind to get out of the car and help you. As crazy as you drive him, he still has some sense to remind him that whatever excuse he has to be in your neighbourhood won’t be convincing, even from him. And with the evergrowing tightness in his pants, he has another problem he can’t hide. Worse, he doesn’t feel as bad as he used to anymore.

You finally manage to get inside, and the athlete starts the engine to find a secluded area once again.

Sakusa has to refrain from spiking the ball at the faux-blonde’s face in the following practice. A match among teammates, and noticing the setter’s little pep in his step upon entering the gym that morning had the ravenette glaring hard. A part of him was relieved being on Atsumu’s opposing team, doubting he could work alongside him for the day.

For now, the wing spiker aims his spikes at the older Miya twin. Anyone could view the action as part of his strategy; aiming for the setter to prevent them from setting is an old trick in the book, but still in the book.

“Damn it, Omi!” Atsumu exclaims in frustration after not properly receiving Sakusa’s spike. “Quit pickin’ on me! Ma arms are gonna fall off!”

A twinge of satisfaction plucks at the ravenette’s chest from the outcry, though he masks it with a huff before walking back to his position. His eyes automatically make their way to your form on a bench, keeping track of the points while scribbling some notes whenever possible. You don’t catch his gaze, seemingly occupied with whatever’s on your clipboard. The lack of attention makes Sakusa frown, as he had hoped you’d see him on his little winning streak.

It doesn’t stop him. If anything, it adds fuel to the fire, the flicker of pride from before blooming into something dangerous.

His plan doesn’t change: Atsumu will remain his target until he decides otherwise. The next time he’s given a chance to spike, his eyes make the mistake of gluing themselves to his victim. Barnes quickly steps in front of the faux-blonde’s spot, flinching from the impact but still blocking the ball perfectly.

It’s just one point, one that he can easily take back. Still, Sakusa can’t help but aim his glare at the setter on the other side of the net, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand lands on the wing spiker’s shoulder, snapping him out of his spiralling daze.

“Take a seat, Sakusa.” Meian’s expression appears relaxed, though there’s a rough edge to his tone telling him it’s not a suggestion.

The bench you’re sitting on is opposite his team’s side of the court. Had that not been the case, the ravenette would try to take the opportunity to sit with you, even if words wouldn’t be exchanged. Instead, he settles onto a bench too far from you for his liking. Even if he were to try and take a peek at you, players from the other team block you from his vision, what with their constant moving.

He’s observing their movements; anyone can assume that. Sakusa can no longer remember the time he’d do something like that unless he was watching videos of matches at home. If he’s not keeping the ball in the air on his side of the court, then he’s scavenging for a chance to even be reminded of your existence: you handing the athletes water and towels, the captain calling your name to gain your attention. Anything will do. So no matter the frustration that comes with the package, he’ll find a way to catch you.

It isn’t until he watches you rise from the bench does Sakusa realize that practice is done for the day. He didn’t notice his teammates walking away from the court and giving him a clearer view of your frame; he was glad he could see you at all. His posture straightens as he watches you approach Atsumu, and his hands ball into fists when you rest your hand on the faux-blonde’s arm. Whatever you two may be discussing, the ravenette can only assume it has to do with his teammate being on the receiving end of his pent-up aggression.

Your conversation ends short and sweet, with you walking towards the storage closet. Sakusa’s only half-listening to his captain when he asks if everything is okay with him. Meian is offered an unenthusiastic response of “Everything is fine” before the younger athlete stalks away.

You’re struggling to roll out the ball cart from its spot when the wing spiker enters the storage closet. He doesn’t hesitate to approach you from behind and grip the handle about an inch away from your hold. You gasp, jolting back slightly before turning your head to face the brooding ravenette.

“You startled me, Sakusa,” you sigh, clutching your chest. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Always so eager to please, aren’t you? The wing spiker has to refrain from smirking at the thought.

Still, he ignores your question. “The wheels on this cart have been acting up lately.” With newfound confidence, he places his free hand on your shoulder to gently pull you out of the way for him to yank the cart. It jerks out of its place with a loud screech, and you wince. “You just need to give it a tug. Until it’s fixed, anyway.”

Sakusa looks down at the cart upon realizing this is probably the most words he’s spoken to you without having you carry the conversation.

You grip the handle after a few seconds of silence. Your voice, suddenly meek, shakes as you thank him. He’s blocking your way; nothing you need to point out to him, but your silence says plenty. His feet stay planted on the ground, and your loss of confidence makes his cock stir in his pants.

“You were pretty tough out there earlier,” you point out. The wing spiker knows you purposefully left out who he was giving a hard time. He also knows, based on your concerned tone, that you’re asking him for an explanation.

You aren’t offered a response. Sakusa only takes his time turning his head to peer at you, the darkness of the storage closet and the way his black curls frame his stoic face giving him an intimidating aura. But what has you subconsciously shrinking into your corner are the onyx caskets for irises boring into your frame, beckoning you to crawl into the empty pools of demise.

“I have to be if I want to win,” is his response before finally leaving you be, exiting the changeroom with the same intensity you witnessed mere seconds ago.

He’s back: closer.

Parking his car nearby doesn’t cut it for him anymore. Sakusa doesn’t think it ever did. With the amount of patience lost for every practice with his team, the initial distance was just a formality.

Now, his car hides nearby as he approaches your home, giving a quick yet thorough peek over his shoulder to make sure he’s in the clear.

It took him the third visit to learn where you hid your spare key, having seen you take it out from under the cushion of a little bench on your porch. And luckily for him, it hasn’t left its spot.

Even with his morals flying out the window, the wing spiker neatly places his coat, scarf and boots aside after removing them, then ponders over his leather gloves until ultimately deciding to keep them on. He eyes the spare slippers by the entrance before concluding they won’t be necessary (for this visit, anyway).

Based on the house’s layout, it shouldn’t take long for Sakusa to find your bedroom. But it’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. Why not get to know you via your home?

It’s a small house: one story and cozy. The ravenette wonders how you afforded it, even with your salary. With how minimal the style appears, he can only assume most of your income went into the building itself. Would it be too much for him to buy you things for the interior? As a gift, perhaps when the occasion calls for it.

Then again, is he really in any position to ask himself about doing too much? He almost chuckles at the thought.

A quick yet thorough tour of your home gives him a more detailed layout, though he’d love to stay longer had he had the time. Or better yet, your company. As satisfied as he was to find your living room and kitchen tidy–and by his standards no less–he’s not done getting to know you.

People don’t really need an exploration of the bathroom. It’s as clean as any other room, though it’s a cast-aside note when his eyes land on your laundry basket. Half full, too. Squatting closer to the dirty pile, a subtle yet musky scent hits his nose. Sakusa almost groans, cock stirring in his slacks; for such a clean freak, he’s never been more excited.

His eyes scan the basket’s contents, eventually landing on flimsy lace. Part of him wishes he wasn’t sporting gloves for the occasion, but he doesn’t let that stop him as he picks up the article of clothing. Underwear, of course it is, and a flattering magenta nonetheless. You wear this to practice? Or are there other times you put it on? Do you have a matching bra? The wing spiker can’t find anything in the basket, though he’s sure–no, he knows–you’d wear it like it was made for you.

Are you wearing something similar right now?

The ravenette stands from his position, pocketing the lacy undergarment before exiting the bathroom. Consider it a welcoming gift.

Again, it doesn’t take long for him to find your room. Being in such an intimate location is a different experience compared to looking in as an outsider. Everything is you: the way you organized your shelves and vanity, the colour palette—your scent is more prominent here. Sakusa doesn’t catch his eyes fluttering shut until he distinctly hears shifting.

To his right, you lay on your mattress, your sheets messily hanging off parts of your body. You’re barely a silhouette in his eyes; the moonlight stalking past the crack between your curtains is the only thing helping the ravenette navigate your room. Parts of the glow highlight a bit of your face, though a shimmer from the light’s reflection teases his peripheral vision.

You have a bookcase headboard, and on it lays a necklace in its case. Nothing fancy; a golden heart hanging off a thin chain. It’s more the note next to its box that catches the ravenette’s eye:

Thought this would look good on you ;) Hope you like it!

— Tsumu (your favourite setter <3)

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d notice, Sakusa would crumble that note and follow up with the faux-blonde’s neck. When did you get this? He surely would’ve noticed if you received it during practice.

There’s a good chance the setter gave it to you before or afterwards. The wing spiker’s aware that the two of you spent time together outside of training, though for it to happen enough times that Atsumu found it appropriate to give you a gift as intimate as a heart-shaped necklace has the ravenette glaring at the piece of jewellery. (As open as his teammate may be, Sakusa doubts he’d buy something like that for someone after a single meet-up.)

He hears a sigh: yours. Your body shifts in its spot again, opting to lay on your back. The wing spiker freezes for the slowest seconds his alarmed brain can count, only to relax once you stay in your new spot.

They say an average of eight spiders crawl into your mouth yearly while you sleep. A myth, of course, but maybe that’s what we tell ourselves to ease the paranoia. Maybe, that’s what he is, Sakusa thinks; a spider. Soundless, observant—he’s certainly made himself at home.

Maybe not, he reconsiders. Most people would carefully trap the eight-legged creature before bringing it outside. Or kill it; no mercy necessary. You have yet to do either.

Then again, you aren’t like most people. Not in his eyes, anyway. No, his eyes entertain themselves with your every move, and no matter how deep those holes in the side of your head are, you don’t catch his stare. Whatever he may be, he’s always the perfect distance to observe you.

Sakusa’s brain buzzes mindlessly as his hands draw closer to your form, long fingers pinching the hem of your pyjama shirt before lifting the material. No bra: not a surprising observation, what with your nipples poking at the fabric from the cold. Even with how dark it is, the ravenette salivates from the sight, his cock stirring in his pants. He’s grateful for the lack of witnesses, though it’s still embarrassing to be as affected as he is. You’re not even fully nude. Yet.

He waits for a reaction. Other than you moving in your sleep, the wing spiker receives nothing. He exhales through his nose, never thinking that gaining the knowledge about you being a heavy sleeper early on would be an advantage for him. His fingers twitch before slowly landing on your stomach. Again, no reaction; he then lays his palms to join the digits. With a deep and shaky breath, the ravenette glides his hands up your torso until they reach your breasts.

They feel perfect in his grasp, even with the thick layer of the leather gloves creating that barrier. Your face scrunches when he gives your mounds a light squeeze, though you remain asleep. As deep of a sleeper as you may be, one wrong move could ruin everything. Sakusa gulps, dragging his middle finger to flick at your nipple. A shaky breath from you is enough for him to shift into a more comfortable position on your bed before he continues his ministrations more confidently.

He’s careful, he assures; eyes flickering from your chest to your face, reading your expressions to discover what you like and making sure you don’t wake up. All the while, the athlete tries to ignore the tightness of his pants, although watching you squirm beneath him because of his touch makes that a challenge.

“Hnngh….”

It was barely audible, but enough to make the athlete stop everything. You’re still asleep, of course—he’s almost impressed, a bit jealous, even. Countless nights of insomnia on his side because of his fantasies playing on a loop, but yours give you a good night’s rest.

Regardless, the wing spiker gears to earn another reaction like that. Dipping his toes further into the water, he gets a little rougher, tweaking the sensitive buds between his covered fingers. Your back arches in his hold; more than enough confirmation for him.

Shifting his position once more, Sakusa wraps his lips around one of your nipples, dragging his tongue against it while groping the other breast. You whimper when he begins sucking: a shallow sound, but it travels down to his crotch. He already has to deal with the embarrassment of finishing early because of you; if he cums in his pants without any stimulation, you’ll surely be the death of him.

He can’t rely on you being a deep sleeper forever: the wing spiker must work quickly. Pulling away from your chest, Sakusa brings his attention to the lower half of your body. His hands glide down to your hips, hooking his index fingers past the elastic waistband. He wonders whether he should take his time removing the article of clothing or pull them down in one motion. You help him make a quick decision when your leg accidentally brushes against his hard-on. And while he refrains from letting out a groan, his hands make fast work of harshly tugging your pants to your knees.

Silence: not a sound from you, not a breath from him. Your thighs clench momentarily out of reflex once the cool air hits the exposed skin. Not fast enough—Sakusa managed to catch a peek at your drooling cunt. And it isn’t until you finally relax again does he exhale with a light shiver from the sight.

Now, with a clear view, the athlete reaches for his opportunity by swiping some of your essence and bringing that same finger to your clit. Your hips buck into his touch as he rubs slow but tight circles on the pearl, making his brows furrow in concentration and chest swell with pride. It isn’t long until he adds to his pace and slides a finger from his other hand into your sopping hole. Your thighs clench on impulse, a mewl leaving your throat as the air remains stuck in his. His movements are forced to a halt due to your hold, and it takes several seconds for you to settle. Do you enjoy the sturdy material of leather rubbing against your insides? Maybe you’re unaware of the answer, but God, wouldn’t the ravenette love to know.

Dipping his toes in the water is long out of the discussion; if anything, he’s in too deep, the water rising every second he proceeds. He might as well follow the rest of him down, no? Take that final gulp of air before dipping his head in and letting that frozen abyss swallow him.

Sakusa experimentally wiggles his finger inside you and, after gaining no reaction, slides in another. With how wet you already were, it doesn’t take much effort on his part. You gasp, but your eyes stay closed. Even with his morality slipping away each day he sees you, the wing spiker still finds himself surprised (and grateful) that you can sleep through his actions. He wonders how far he can go.

The longer and deeper he pumps his digits inside you, the more reactions he earns from you. The squelching noises between your legs also become louder, especially with the leather material of his gloves. He’s no longer worried, just curious about what sounds and expressions he can pull out of you.

A particular response tells him he’s found your sweet spot. With a drawn-out yet breathless wail, you lift your hips off the mattress once the ravenette prods at a certain part inside you.

Where there is darkness, there is also light, and that’s exactly what could be said to describe the glimmer in his eyes upon discovering this hidden gem of information. He continues his ministrations, watching in fascination and lust as you grind into his touch.

Meanwhile, his cock is begging to be released from its restraints, throbbing due to the display. Sakusa was hoping to hold out for a bit longer, mapping out your body in ways he hopes no one else has, but along with any logic and morality, his patience flies out the window.

You whimper when the athlete slides his fingers out; he almost wants to coo, assure you that he’ll make you feel all better. He can’t, of course, so he opts to taste you, lick his digits clean of your slick. He’s certain he almost cums on the spot, your sweetness consuming his tastebuds (as well as a hint of bitter leather) and leaving its mark in his memories. The wing spiker’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to refrain from groaning.

When his gaze returns to your form, he’s swift with your pants, further sliding them down before doing the same to himself. Having his cock out of its confinements already does plenty for him, but not enough. Sakusa recalls how your cunt squeezed his fingers, practically sucking them in. You were warm, dripping, even with his gloves in the way. And with how eager he is to have you make a mess on his dick, he knows he’s no longer the same person he was before meeting you.

The athlete taps the tip of his cock against your clit a few times, just to watch you squirm, before sliding into your entrance. Only a few inches in, and he already has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip. None of this was a part of his plan—he’s not even sure he had one in the first place; he just needed to see you, feel your presence in some way, shape or form. And the latter is more than he could ever ask for, your insides hugging him just as tight as they did his fingers. The lack of a barrier is the icing on the cake.

He’s bottomed out before he knows it, and Sakusa doesn’t know where to look: your face contorting from being filled to the brim or your cunt stretching open to accommodate his size. Either one intensifies the swirling of his lower stomach. All he can do for now is play with your clit until you appear to feel better. (And if that means you clench harder around him, then so be it. He’s come this far as is.)

After a few minutes, the wing spiker reels his hips back with a deep breath. His thrusts are gentle, as much of a challenge as it may be to hold back. He bites his bottom lip as he feels you hug every inch of his cock, threatening to milk him for all he’s worth when he’s barely begun. You’re so much better than his hand; no fantasy can compare.

A few strokes in, and Sakusa’s restraint is thinning. Every time, he thrusts in a bit deeper, a bit faster, a bit harder. You’re quietly moaning between pants, your face twisting from a pained expression to one much lewder. Pretty lips parted with brows both furrowed and raised, you have the ravenette throwing his head back with a silent groan.

Unfortunately for him, that’s when he catches sight of that damn necklace again. His grip on the sheets next to your head tightens, his thrusts sloppy as his mind races. What made Atsumu think he had the right? Does he think a necklace is all it’ll take to get you? Sakusa drops his head to glare daggers as you continue to mewl and whimper. What do you think is happening right now? Who are you thinking about right now?

His mind keeps reeling, and the wing spiker fails to notice how he’s taking out his aggression in his thrusts.

Your whimpers grow to pathetic cries, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and his hold on your sheets move to your wrists on instinct. With the mental spiral and physical force, the ravenette fails to notice your eyes shoot open.

Then, you gasp. “Sakusa!”

He hears the fear in your voice, no doubt. Yet, in a situation like this, with you beneath him, tears streaming down your cheeks as your sobbing and panting mix together, he can’t help but create a more beautiful scenario. You’re begging for him, his cock, needing him to fuck you stupid and fill you up to the brim, the pleasure so overwhelming that your nails are digging into his back, only his shirt shielding his skin from the potential marks.

The athlete doesn’t think; he slams his lips against yours, his tongue quick to explore your mouth as his release hangs on to the edge. And when your pussy flutters around his dick, creams around it, it’s the push he needs. Hot spurts of cum paint your insides white as Sakusa kisses you harder, his hips stilling. Even as he groans against your mouth, he can hear your choked moans, and he never wants any of this to end.

But that’s not how it works. Eventually, you both come down from your highs, his cock going soft and out of cum to give you. The wing spiker doesn’t pull out, but it doesn’t stop the white liquid from trying to seep out. It makes him shiver, slowly ending your kiss for you both to catch some air. The string of saliva connected to your lips that follows him as he sits up distracts him; something else to bind you two together. It’s messy, so so so messy.

He loves it.

You’re both breathing hard for the next several seconds, your terrified expression not faltering as your body trembles lightly.

“Wha—How?” you gasp, sob, you’re not sure, and neither is he. He’s only half-listening, still floating on that release and too far away. “Sakusa, how did you get in?”

There they are again: those eyes. Empty pools, yet always full of judgement. Like you’re the crazy one. Tracing the river streams down your face and clumps of shields for lashes, they seemingly do more talking than his mouth.

Then, Sakusa reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. You flinch, but it doesn’t stop him from wiping a stray tear. Even with your helpless sounds quieting down, the silence isn’t any less deafening. And when his voice, smooth and deep and a little too nonchalant, invades the room, you shiver.

“I was always here.”

#haikyuu #fanfic #fanfiction #hq #haikyu #haikyu!!#smut #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #yandere sakusa x reader #yandere haikyuu #sakusa smut #dark content #sakusa dark content #itachiyama #msby bj #msby sakusa

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yanderecrazysie · 4 months

Text

Mysophobia (Yandere Sakusa)

Please don’t request any phobias. I just felt like making this for fun.

Be kind to me, I'm still not good at writing NSFW

Title: Mysophobia

Pairings: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, NSFW, NONCON, degradation

Phobia: The fear of germs

Sakusa never touched you without wearing gloves. The plastic always felt cold against your bare skin- he didn’t allow you to wear any clothing.

He was a complete germaphobe- constantly washing the sheets and you. You ended up in the bathtub at least once a day, with him watching over you, making sure you scrubbed well enough to get rid of all the impurities.

If he wanted you to touch him, he forced you to put on hand sanitizer before demanding your touch.

He called you all sorts of things. Disgusting. Pig. Slut. You couldn’t say anything in response unless you wanted his glove-clad fingers shoved down your throat.

Like most days, you laid on your sterile sheets, looking up at the ceiling. Waiting for Sakusa to come back. Because as much as you hated him, at least he wasn’t boring.

The door clicked and you sat up, on edge despite how relieved you were to see Sakusa. He opened the door, wearing his signature mask and gloves. He gave you a once over before saying, “You’re sweaty.”

You knew what that meant. Bath time for the second time today. Your skin was still raw from his earlier scrubbing.

Sakusa pulled a key out of his pocket and turned to your handcuffs, unlocking them. You rubbed at the marks they left behind, soothing the sore skin. Sakusa didn’t give you a chance to appreciate your newfound freedom, his glove-clad hand grabbing your upper arm and hauling you to your feet.

He dragged you to the bathroom, but you didn't put up much of a fight. Bath time was the same every time- Sakusa would scrub your skin raw and you'd sit there and take it. Then, he would bring you back to the bed and watch some TV with you until you both fell asleep.

Sakusa turned on the faucet and tested the water as it fell into the bathtub. You obediently began to strip, just as you knew he wanted. You waited silently until he backed away from the tub, silently motioning for you to climb inside.

It was a huge tub, easily big enough for two people. Sometimes Sakusa used it too, but those were the worst days.

One look at Sakusa’s lap told you it was one of those days.

Sakusa began to strip unceremoniously, letting his dick spring up out of his boxers and hit his stomach, leaving a spot of precum where it connected. You swallowed thickly, knowing what was to come.

Sakusa opened one of the bathroom drawers and pulled out a condom. Even with you on birth control, Sakusa needed a condom to fuck you. Cum was too messy for him, after all.

He climbed into the tub and laid down, grabbing your hips and forcing you to straddle him. He tapped his cockhead against your clit a few times just to see you jolt, then shoved two of his gloved fingers into your cunt. He wasted no time, immediately scissoring your tight pussy apart, preparing you for his sizable member.

He removed his fingers from your cunt and made a disgusted noise when he saw that his gloves were shining with your slick. He put his fingers in the water, brow still furrowed in disdain. Sometimes you wondered why he even fucked you if it was too messy for him. But Sakusa just couldn’t help himself.

His hand came up and massaged your breast, eliciting a soft moan from you. His mouth twisted into a grimace, “You’re such a slut.”

You tried to ignore his comment, but you still felt hurt by his words. You couldn’t help how your body reacted, it was just natural.

Without further teasing, Sakusa began to push against the opening of your cunt until the head of his cock popped inside and the rest followed in one sharp thrust. You let out a squeak, placing both of your hands on his chest for balance.

Sakusa got angry at that, “Take your hands off of me, you disgusting slut.”

You quickly did as he said, removing your hands from his chest and seekingt purchase oin the sides of the tub. Meanwhile, Sakusa thrusted up into you, pushing up and up until his tip pressed against your deepest parts. Somehow, even behind his mask, you could tell, he was grinning wickedly.

Sakusa drew his hips back and began a brutal pace, bruising your cervix with each thrust. He didn’t allow you to get used to a pattern- occasionally stopping just to throw you off rhythm. You gasped and moaned and this time, instead of criticizing you, he groaned softly back, the sound muffled by his face mask.

He gave a couple extra rough thrusts before he shuddered and came. You followed right after him, the feeling of the condom inflating sending you over the edge. Sakusa pulled out and watched as you gasped for breath, laying back in the tub as his dick softened and slipped from your cunt. He stood up, removed his condom, and threw it in the garbage, glaring at it in disgust the entire time. He looked down and surveyed his dick, which was dripping white cum into the water below.

“We have to run a new bath. Get out,” Sakusa snapped.

You weren’t sure you could even move your legs.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu!!#yandere one shot #one shot #yandere sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #tw noncon

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ninefuckingoneone-ssideblog · 1 year

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Brooooo I can't stop thinkin bout yandere prince Sakusa Kiyoomi

But but with a twist yn is also a princess anddddd they're siblings. Well half siblings, the king likes to mess around as always. Up until now you were the only heir to the throne but Sakusa's presence, as another royal with claims to the throne has raised an uproar.

Sakusa is sceptical, his origins weren't clear to you; though proved to be the king's son, but the way you behaved wasn't something he could put a finger on. His predictions of your reaction to his appearance had gone wrong and his curiosity was peaked. For his own sake more than not, you're all but the biggest threat to his position.

That is until Sakusa spends more time in the palace observing you, he starts doing this to assess you and figure out your weaknesses. But it almost feels like your delighted by his presence? Or not? It's like you're playin a game with him. He couldn't truly pinpoint what is was you're thinking. Or maybe he's just thinking too much about you...

Anyways fastforward to yn happily handing over the throne to him. And that is when he comes to the realization that you've always hated the idea of being bound to this place. That all those times you've happily put up the competitive streaks against him to establish power whether in academics or other sectors, were more to make him a better king for the throne than to take the control back from him.

You've long before accepted him and made a point to tease him about being your adorable little brother giving you a run for your money. And believe it or not you've both came to care for eachother in an unspoken manner of sort. Only that Sakusa's care ran deeper, darker more sinister than something your "lovely brother" should be harbouring for you.

But it's okay though, he has all the time in the world now that he's king. That was until you decide to announce your resignation from state affairs and royalty, he's not sure if that's even possible but he's not letting it be anytime soon either.

You weren't oblivious, being a princess could hardly allow for that. Though very subtle, the signs that Kiyoomi's affections were growing beyond what a brotherly love should extend to, you were quick to deduct the message behind it.

Your leasurely library sessions with him slowly turned to his chest pressed against your back, a firm hand on your hip as a guise of helping you reach the very book you set yesterday on an entirely different shelf. Dark curls brushing against your neck as he leans down unnecessarily close to place the book in your hands

And comfortable meals you used to share with him turned intense. His obsidian eyes drank in your form as if it wasn't only the food he wished to devour.

Sparring lessons were the worst. Considering how it used to be your favourite. Back when you used to playfully smack and poke around him to get a raise out of his normally well kept attitude. He used to be the same size as you and constantly trying his hardest to overpower your sneaky tricks, Huffing to keep up. Sakusa clearly was only trained to show not fight, and when you did successfully pin his sword down, dagger held to his neck. You told him how he can't ever expect people to play fair, so he should learn to do the same.

And you did come to regret it, eventually. Because now your spars have turned way too physical; as if he's actively trying to keep you pinned against his relatively much larger frame. As if he's making it way more apparent how much he's grown in ways more than one. The fact that you're smaller frame fits almost too well against him as he flips your dagger back against your own neck and pins you roughly to the tree.

Chests pressed together and his thighs forcefully make way between your legs, his weight holds you in place rendering you immobile. And even after your attempts at easying away from his hold, the intense gaze he locks you with, tells you he's not playin fair anymore. The dark lust building in his eyes is far from letting you leave. Ever.

And it was that you need to leave.

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kiwanopie · 1 year

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What would happen if we did try to leave kiyoomi like would he go haywire and turn into a madman or even a yandere (ps I love your work it makes me swing my legs back and forth while I twirl my finger in my hair 🤭)

Men as proud as him rarely grovel - they rarely beg. But when they do it’s overgrown by denial and a special kind of disgrace.

Talking to you like this makes him want to bite his tongue off. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’ll let you leave me.”

You close your eyes as he steps to block your path to the door. Neatly packed bags weigh down the sleeves of your coat and even through grief are you still emboldened by the soft lights. Eyes cottoned by tears, still doey as they stare emptily forward. Nothing he’s said or done has invoked so much as a word from you since he’d returned home. Just a figure wisping away before his eyes, falling out of his hands before he can reason himself how to catch you.

But a man like him is used to threats and strong-arming to get his way. And though Kiyoomi doesn’t touch you, his tone is enough to make you wish he would. “You’re making a mistake. I mean it, ______. You walk out of this door and I don’t what I’ll do-“

“Move, Kiyoomi.” But you’re a contest to him. Just that nearly evokes a flinch.

Kiyoomi’s jaw tenses as you finally look up at him. And you know him well enough to know that his demeanor is a falsehood. It’s a show. A mask - not even well enough to hide that his eyes have already gone glassy. Neat scowl barely changed on his face but his fingers creak against the door frame.

He’s holding on by a thread. “You’re not leaving me.”

He steps forward as you try to step past him.

“You can’t keep me here, Kiyoomi. I don’t-“ Your voice cracks and so does his restraint. “I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“I don’t care.” Which he doesn’t mean. Really, the thought of you not loving him anymore makes him so nauseous his mouth kind of waters. He’s living out his worst nightmare right now, if you can believe it.

“You made a promise when you married me. You won’t leave me and I don’t leave you-“

Another side step. You let out a frustrated breath when he doesn’t let you push past. “You are my wife. Mine. Every breath you take is for me and you the same. That’s just how it is.”

“Get. Out. Of my way, Kiyoomi.”

“No. You need to think about this-“

“Get-“ You drop one of your bags just to push him out of your way. Nails somewhat digging into his button up but the force of the push slightly teeters him on his heel. You’re just as strong if not stronger through your resentment. Just as angry as he is if not angrier. But you’re not as ruthless as him, that’s for damn sure. And you find that out the hard way when you finally push the wrong button.

“Get out of my way, Sakusa!”

You’re pulled forward by the wrist.

It isn’t a hard enough grip to bruise but it’s stern, it’s promising something much worse should you start to pull away. - You meet his eyes and he’s wrathful. You’ve never seen him look at you like this before.

His voice is vexed, ireful and seething. “You really must be stupid if you think you’re leaving here scot-free. Do you know who I am? You think I don’t have the names of your family, your friends, any asshole dumb enough to think they matter? You really think I’m gonna let you leave here - start some worthless life with some one-off nobody? - Do you think you’re allowed to be happy without me?”

“I will kill - Look at me,” He inches you forward. “I will slaughter any and every one I have to just to make sure that I am the center of your life. Your husband. And if you think that any life, any relationship you have outside of me isn’t borrowed, then let me remind you right now,”

“You are my wife and I am your husband. Anything outside of that - is concessionary.”

You stumble as he releases you from his grasp.

Kiyoomi steps past you as you stand static still, already snatching up your bags while you look off in horror.

“Now,” He says over his shoulder. “Let me put these away for you.”

#crime lord!sakusa kiyoomi #lmao yeah he’s still a bad guy #does this count as yandere?#i think so #yandere sakusa #crime au!kiyioomi #crime au #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu x reader #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu scenarios

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milaisreading · 1 year

Text

PART 2

Couples:

Yandere!MSBY 4 x Kageyama Twin!Reader

Side couple:

Komori Motoya x Kageyama Twin!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, non-con(not too much), obsessive and possessive behavior, general yandere tendencies. This is my first time writing explicit content like this, sorry if it's boring:/

PS: Send in requests if u have any...

Part 1:

"So how have you been? Everything going ok with Komori-san?" Tobio's voice sounded through (Y/n)'s apartment as she cooked her dinner.

"Yeah! Everything has been great with us, tho the distance is really killing me, but we phone each other every day." (Y/n) answered back, waiting for Tobio to speak up again.

"Well, you did pick pretty far away cities, Shizuoka and Osaka I mean. But as long as you find time to call each other, it should be fine." (Y/n) smiled bitterly, nodding her head Kageyama's words

"Yeah, but enough about my love life, what about you? With how many fangirls and those fansites you have, you must have someone in mind." She teased, already imagining her brother blushing at her words.

"You know I am not interested in that, at least not now. Volleyball is more fun."

"You should honestly think of marrying it at this point." (Y/n) joked, not surprised by his answer.

"Shut it! But anyways, I need to go now. You will be off to Shizuoka this weekend?" Tobio wondered as (Y/n) went to pick up her phone and turn off the speaker.

"Well I was planning to, but Motoya told me he will come. Something about getting away from Shizuoka and all." The med student answered, recalling the conversation she had with the pro athlete a few days a

"Well at least you won't have to travel after the exam then. By the way, did Hinata text you at all in the past 2 weeks? Since the game with Komori-san's team, it's been radio silent from him."

"Hmm? Now that you mention it, I didn't hear anything from him either. Could that loss bumped him out so much?"

"Who knows. He can be off at times, but I am sure he will come around. Anyways, I got to go now. Hoshiumi-san wanted to take Hirugami-san and I out for a drink."

"Have fun! Give them greetings from me!"

With that, they ended the call and (Y/n) went back to making her noodles so that she can return back to studying as soon as possible. Groaning, the med student went through her phone, trying to find the last few notes she needed to revise.

"Just this one more exam and then I will have some time for myself..."

She yawned, looking at the clock on her wall, groaning.

"I will barely catch any sleep these days..." (Y/n) groaned as she put the phone away and went to eat her dinner, her mind going from her exam to the orange haired volleyball player.

'He really has been acting off... ever since graduation to be honest...'

She thought in worry.

With Hinata...

The man tossed and turned in his bed. He was supposed to go to sleep hours ago, but he just couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of (Y/n) and Komori flooded his mind, and he just ends up angry.

"Stupid Komori...is it his height that makes him attractive? His looks are average at best.. or his money? If (Y/n) was in need of financial support, she could have called me-"

Hinata's rambling was cut off by his phone ringing, so he quickly went to answer it.

"Sakusa? Why are you up so late?" The orange haired man wondered.

"I was talking with my aunt over some family meet up later this month, and she let the information about Motoya visiting Osaka slip out... do you know where I am going?"

Sakusa said sternly, clear annoyance lacing his voice as he mentioned his cousin.

"Do...do you think it's the right time?" Hinata wondering, his eyes going wide as he remembered the plan.

"Another time we won't have. We need to break them up... Aunt told me that he plans on proposing to (Y/n) soon."

Hinata's eyes widened and he clenched his fists.

"Ok...did you think of a plan to break them up?"

"Yeah, I will handle that."

"Good, I can't wait till that pest is gone."

"You and I both."

Sakusa sighed from the other side.

With Atsumu...

Atsumu groaned as he kept on stroking his cock as he went through the pictures he saved of (Y/n). The pictures were nothing special, just some from the beach he found on her Ig, but those were enough to rile him up. The image of the young woman underneath him, panting, crying and begging for release kept playing inside his head.

'(Y/n)... please...'

Groaning, the faux blonde as he came all over his hand. Panting, he got up from his bed and went to clean himself up. Once he was done he went back to his bedroom, sighing sadly as the images he had were just pure fantasies, the kind he wanted to be true.

Huffing, he sat down on his bed and scrolled through (Y/n)'s social media, smiling when he saw a new story was posted.

But, that smile faded away as soon as he saw that it was a picture of her books and a cup of coffee.

'Why is she up so late? It's nearly 1 in the morning. Shouldn't that useless boyfriend of hers make sure she is sleeping?!'

"Stupid! I knew that guy was no good! Why did she pick this prick of all?"

Atsumu's stare hardened as he thought of the brown haired libero. Back when he met Komori at the training camp, he thought of him as a possible friend. But now...now that he was with the girl of his dreams, there was no way for him to have that position.

"I wanted to so desperately see him cry that night. Show him and (Y/n) who the better one is...better player and better boyfriend, but..." Atsumu sighed as he rubbed his face, feeling like crying.

"But the whole time (Y/n) kept distracting me. That smile and her cheers, wonder how it would feel like to have her cheer on me, wear my jersey-"

Atsumu stopped his monolog as a message popped up. Quickly opening it, he saw that it was Bokuto.

'Komori is coming to Osaka tomorrow. We need to break them up this weekend. Sakusa said he is planning to propose.'

The message set an already frustrated Atsumu on fire. There was no way he will let that Komori put a ring on her pretty little finger.

"Besides, he can't afford what (Y/n) really deserves, unlike the rest of us. And Komori (Y/n) just sounds wrong."

The next day...

"I honestly don't know if I will pass this one, but the most important part is that it's over!" (Y/n) cheered as she walked out of the building.

"I am sure you will pass. When will the results be?" Miwa asked from the other side of the phone.

"In like...5 days or so. Unless the professor starts grading them today."

The med student yawned, already dreaming of her soft bed.

"Sleepy? Are you off home?" Miwa asked, worried for the youngest sibling.

"Yeah. Motoya will arrive in Osaka later tonight, so that gives me some time to rest."

"Alright. I have to go now since a client arrived. Have fun you two, but not too much~" The older woman teased, causing (Y/n) to blush a little as she said her goodbyes.

'She can be too much at times.' (Y/n) groaned. All of a sudden, the young woman felt someone grab ther shoulder, causing her to jump away and turn around.

"Easy there (Y/n), it's just us!" Sighing in relief, (Y/n) noticed the familiar golden and black eye.

"Bokuto-san, Sakusa-san, what a surprise! What are you two doing here?" (Y/n) asked, smiling as the two athletes took off their masks.

"We were just walking by after practice! Do you live here somewhere?" Sakusa asked flatly, already knowing all the information.

"Oh no, my university is in this location tho! How are you two? Has practice been going well?" (Y/n) asked while smiling, causing Bokuto to blush a little, meanwhile Sakusa hid his by putting his mask back on.

'Adorable...my (Y/n) is so adorable.' The black haired thought as Bokuto spoke up.

"It's been great. Today we were let go a little sooner than usually. The coach and captain were a little easier today, after all the hard training before."

"Yeah, they got a lot stricter after our match with Komori's team." Sakusa explained, getting more annoyed at his cousin than he already was. (Y/n) blinked for a moment, and then remembered what he was talking about.

"Sorry to hear that you two, but you guys were still amazing. I guess it depends on the luck you have that day." She answered back, trying to lighten up their moods. Which seemed to work, as Bokuto stopped pouting, sending her a grin soon after. Sakusa seemed to lose his annoyed demeanor, but his eyes stayed as passive as possible, so she wasn't sure about him.

"Really?! Did you see that service ace I delivered at the beginning?! Worked on it for a while." Bokuto boasted.

"Yeah! That was pretty cool! I am happy that you hard work paid off. Hope the next time you performed it, it will be the winning points."

Bokuto grinned at the praise and continued talking to the younger. Sakusa clenched his fists are the sight, envying how easy the conversation between the two was. How familiar they are to each other. It's not like Sakusa didn't talk to her before, she visited his place often with Komori, but he always had a hard time talking to her.

"Hey uhmm... the two of us, Atsumu and Hinata are free tonight, want to go out for dinner?"

The black haired boy's question surprised not only (Y/n), but Bokuto as well.

"Well that sounds nice Sakusa-san, but Motoya will come over tonight, so I really can't. And I don't think it's that much of a smart idea, I don't want to piss some of your fangirls off."

(Y/n) shuddered, remembering how some of the girls from her class came into her, after pictures of her and Atsumu talking surfaced on social media.

Sakusa and Bokuto ignored the part with Motoya, as they were more concerned over the 2nd part.

"Say...none of the fans caused you any trouble?"

"Ahh...all I can really say is that Atsumu-san's fans love him a little too much." Was all she said, which made alarm bells go off in both of them.

"But nothing to worry about! I already handled it! Anyways, I need to go now, gotta rest a little till Motoya arrives! Bye!" (Y/n) said, walking off quickly, trying to avoid any form of questioning from either of the two.

"What are you doing?" Bokuto wondered, his gaze switching from (Y/n) retreating form to Sakusa's, who was dialing a number on his phone.

"I will call my dear cousin over for a drink... the plan is going in action tonight."

"Alright! Let me go and call Hinata then." The Fukurodani alumni grinned, excited about tonight.

"You are meeting up with Sakusa-san? Why didn't you tell me earlier?" (Y/n) asked the brown haired libero over the phone.

"Sorry, it came out of the blue, I will try not to stay for too long with him... you are not mad?" Komori asked from the other side, gulping as he thought of her reaction.

"Why would I be mad, Sakusa-san is your family after all. Just, tell me sooner next time." She asked softly. There was really no reason for her to be annoyed, aside from him not informing her sooner.

"Sorry, I really am. But I have something for you, which might make it up for my mistake." Komori said sheepishly, causing (Y/n) to grow curious.

"What would that be?"

"You'll see! But I need to hang up now, sorry."

"Ok, have a safe trip! And have fun."

Turning off her phone, (Y/n) sighed and went to her living room, opting to watch a movie or two till Komori arrives.

A few hours had passed and (Y/n) was beginning to get nervous, not only was Komori supposed to arrive at her place an hour ago, but he also wasn't answering his phone.

"Should I call Motoya again? I have been calling him for the past 20 minutes and nothing... Maybe Sakusa-san will answer me." (Y/n) muttered nervously as she dialed the athlete's number.

She didn't have to wait for too long, as he answered his phone quickly.

"Hello? (Y/n)?"

"Sakusa-san! Thank God you answered, is Motoya with you? Why isn't he answering his phone?"

'I probably come off as controlling, but fuck it!' She gulped, waiting for an answer from the man.

"Motoya? Why would he be with me? I am out with Hinata."

(Y/n)'s heart dropped at those words.

'There... But why would he say?'

"Hello? (Y/n), you still on your phone?" Sakusa's voice interrupted her thoughts and she quickly answered him.

"Uhmm...I... Motoya isn't with you 100%? He said you two would meet up for a drink."

"No, we never agreed to that. I have practice tomorrow, so that's out of question-"

"I need to go. Bye, sorry for interrupting you two." (Y/n) didn't let Sakusa finish as she hung up and went to call Komori again, her heart racing and alarm bells ringing.

"Come on...answer please....Motoya..." She desperately begged, thinking of the worst possible scenario.

'He wouldn't... Motoya wouldn't cheat. There is no way, but why else would he lie?'

"Why aren't you answering?!" (Y/n) screamed as she threw her phone on the couch, tears escaping her eyes.

"Please...let this be all a prank, I swear I won't be mad. Please-"

A notification popped up on her phone, and (Y/n) quickly ran to her phone, thinking this might be Komori. Unlocking her phone, (Y/n) read the name of a private Ig account, which sent her a few pictures. With a heavy heart, she opened the message, only, to her horror find pictures of Komori sleeping next to a unfamiliar girl. The sight of the woman smiling next to a seemingly naked Komori made her heart break and she quickly turned of her phone.

Shaking and sobbing, she plopped on the couch and started crying harder, the pathetic feelings of sadness and betrayal taking over her body.

"Motoya...why?"

"Should we go now?" Hinata asked as Sakusa finished his call with Atsumu.

"Yeah, the woman sent those photos to (Y/n) and already left. With how much Motoya drank, it will be a wonder if he remembers anything." Hinata nodded his head as they walked of to Sakusa's car.

"All the better for us, (Y/n) will just think that he is lying and trying to pretend nothing happened."

Sakusa silently nodded his head, grinning like a madman that this years old nightmare is coming to an end.

'Finally she will be mine...tonight is the night.' The black haired man hummed as him and Hinata walked off to the meeting spot.

A few hours passed by and (Y/n) was sound asleep in her bed, all the crying drained her, and she just wanted to shut off everyone. So much so that she didn't even answer her brother or sister's calls. The silent apartment was soon disrupted by the sound of the entrance door being opened, and two figures walked inside.

"Shouldn't we wait for Hinata and Atsumu?" Bokuto whispered as Sakusa nodded his head.

"I really could care less where those two idiots are right now. Besides, we should go and prepre our little princess." The Itachiyama alumni muttered as he walked to (Y/n)'s bedroom, his whole body shaking in excitement along with Bokuto's.

"Finally, I have been dreaming of this moment for so long." Bokuto grinned as Sakusa slowly opened the bedroom door. Breath hitching up, Bokuto walked inside and up to (Y/n)'s bed. The man gulped as he looked at her sleeping face, her puffy, red cheeks and pout causing his cock to harden.

Groaning, Sakusa slowly removed her covers, enjoying the sight of her vulnerable figure. Bokuto let out a a sigh as he sat on the bed and caressed (Y/n)'s hair.

"I can't wait for those two." Sakusa finally said as he hovered over the woman, and slowly grabbed onto her pajama pants, pulling them down.

"Finally." Bokuto grinned as Sakusa pulled off her pants, licking his lips when he saw her panties. Quickly unbottoning her pajama shirt, he was more than pleased to see her bare boobs.

"Naughty girl~" Bokuto giggled as Sakusa started kissing up (Y/n)'s leg, her soft skin turning him more and more on.

'And that bastard Motoya kept all of this to himself?! And with how he is, he probably didn't please her to the fullest.'

Bokuto was meanwhile kneading (Y/n)'s nipples, watching in pleasure as the woman started groaning and moaning, her eyes slowly opening, looking at her surrounding in confusion.

"Looks like my little slut is finally up? Look Omi!"

"Wh-what th?!-" (Y/n) shrieked as she realized what was going on, desperately trying to wiggle her body out of this. But all of this was to no avail as their grips on her body tightened.

"Shh baby, we will take great care of you. Just be compliant."

"Get off of me! What the hell?!" (Y/n) glared up at Bokuto as she tried to push him off. This pissed the white/black haired man off, causing him to grab her arms and pin them down, sending the woman a warning growl.

"Don't make it so unnecessarily hard, baby. We know you want this, you are all wet just from our touch." Sakusa cooed as he inserted a finger inside, enjoying the surprised expression and her attempts to hide her moan.

"Don't hold back baby, I want to hear all of the noises." The black haired man laughed, insisting a 2nd and 3rd finger shortly after.

"Stopp~" (Y/n) moaned out as Bokuto played with one of her nipples and sucked the other, moaning at how soft she felt.

"Good girl, just lay back and enjoy it." Sakusa smirked as he pumped his fingers faster and faster, enjoying how hee moans were getting louder and louder.

"You smell so nice... I have been waiting for so long. We all have." Bokuto muttered in between of kissing her neck, leaving a bite mark or two in the process.

"Wha-what are you t-talking about~" (Y/n) panted as she felt her climax approach her.

"We all have had our eyes set on you since high school, and it really enraged me...us to see you with my cousin of all people. But you will soon learn not to mess with us, baby~" Sakusa chuckled as the younger came onto his finger, enjoying the moan she let out.

"So sensitive... Atsumu and Hinata will sure enjoy this." Bokuto teased as he wiped her tears away, kissing her cheek right after.

"Please...please don't go any further... Sakusa, Motoya will be-"

(Y/n) flinched as both men glared and let out low growls.

"Still thinking of that pest? While two of the most sought after athletes in the country are about to give you the night of your life?" Sakusa said as her got up, signaling to Bokuto to change positions. (Y/n) was about to use the moment her hands were free to get up, but Sakusa stopped her.

"You are not going anywhere. The fun is just starting." Sakusa said as (Y/n) watched in horror as Bokuto started taking off his pants. Then suddenly, the younger heard her bedroom door open, and a familiar voice fill up the room.

"Hey! Why didn't ya wait for us?!" Atsumu growled as Hinata whined at the betrayal. The black haired man rolled his eyes along with Bokuto.

"Next time don't take so long. Now wait till Omi and I are finished."

"Not fair! I know (Y/n) longer than any of you, I should do it first!"

"Deal with it, Hinata." Sakusa said, looking down at (Y/n)'s teary eyes, the sight causing him to grow harder than he already was.

The next day, (Y/n) woke up feeling sick and body aching from all the bruises and bite marks the 4 left on her body. But besides that, a weird form of relief washed over her body as she noted that neither of the men were with her. Perhaps, she thought, they left or something. But, just as she started hoping that, her door opened and revealed Hinata's smiling figure. (Y/n) cringed at how normal he was acting, as if he and his friends didn't force themselves on her last night.

"You are awake! Just in time too, Omi made us breakfast." Hinata said cheerfully as he approached her bed, causing the woman to flinch away as he touched her shoulder.

"Huh? Was I that rough with my marking last night? Sorry baby, I will be gentler next time." (Y/n) looked at the grinning man in horror as he said that.

"N-next time?"

"Of course, did you think this was a one time thing?" Gulping, she felt Hinata grab the back of her head and rest his forehead against hers.

"We all are in love with you for years, and if you thought we would leave after we got a taste of how sweet you are...you are dead wrong." Hinata said, the crazy and lovesick look in his eyes made her realize in just how much trouble she was in.

"Besides...of you don't want Komori's career to end in a cheating scandal, you will play the role of the obedient little kitten." Atsumu said from the doorway. (Y/n) moved to look at him in shock as Hinata started kissing her neck, moaning at the pleasant smell.

"How do you-"

"How do we know? Easy, we set him up. You should have seen how much we had to make him drink to convince him that woman was you." Her eyes widened as Atsumu chuckled and walked up to her bed, patting her head and kissing the top of it.

"Remember, your body and soul belong to us from now on, so better not look at any other man, or else these pictures of Komori are going into the public."

(Y/n) felt tears start rolling down her cheeks as Atsumu showed her those again. She knew there was no way out, if only she knew sooner how crazy these 4 were...maybe she would have been more careful. Maybe she would have stayed in Tokyo or even in Miyagi to study,but with the way they were, (Y/n) doubted this distance would have prevented any of this. Atsumu chuckled at the hopeless look the younger had on her face and leaned in to lick some of the tears away.

'Finally I have you hopeless and desperate, just like I always wanted it.'

@kei-tsuki21 @thebrunetteavenger @sicklyinlove @kittykatiekat @torriblack97 @locogvrl @omi-kunslysol @yuushs

#haikyuu!!#hq!! manga #yandere haikyuu #hinata shoyo #yandere hinata #haikyuu miya atsumu #yandere atsumu #sakusa kiyoomi #yandere sakusa x reader #bokuto koutarou #yandere bokuto #yandere msby #msby x reader #kageyama tobio #timeskip haikyuu #haikyuu dark content #yandere x reader

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pparadiselost · 6 months

Text

carnal.

sakusa kiyoomi x fem reader sakusa physically can't get enough of you, pushing past the point of disgust. warning(s): nsfw, dubcon, slight yandere sakusa, overstimulation, sweat kink minors do not interact.

sakusa loves you too much. too much for his own good, to put it simply.

you have no issue with it. granted, he isn’t a particularly vocal lover. he doesn’t go around throwing himself at your feet to profess his love to you in the way that maybe his more energetic teammates might, but his affection for you is still there. it’s in the little things that tip you towards how fond he is of you. he makes exceptions about his strict life for you specifically, letting you prance around in his life in a way he would never tolerate from anyone else.

that isn’t to say you don’t appreciate his patience. something like that means the world to sakusa. you’ve seen the way he meticulously cleans his house until a speck of dust couldn’t settle even if it developed sentience and tried. he’s always the first person out of the black jackals team to get his vaccinations update, and his eyes shoot daggers at said teammates whenever they try to sling their arms around him or even get too touchy-feely with him after a hard-earned victory.

yet he doesn’t do the same with you. he lets you put your hands all over him, and he lets you smother yourself in his personal space as much as you want. you could probably come up to him with a bloody nose and demand that he take his shirt off to give to you, and if you caught him in a good enough mood, he might do it.

so yes, it’s safe to say that sakusa loves you, even to the point of compromising his lifestyle in order to get closer to you. you conclude it to be his undying love to you, manifesting itself in a way that might be a little more unconventional but still touching enough to make you swoon all the same. you’re not quite wrong on that; he does love you to the point of insanity.

sakusa is greedy, greedy to the point of ruin. that is what sakusa kiyoomi is.

he wants everything you have to offer him, and he wants to take beyond that. he wants the good and the pretty: the shy smiles you extend to him on secret dates, the way you wake him up with a quiet ‘good morning,’ the times when you call him just because you felt like talking to him. it’s all lovely and quaint, but he also wants to eat up the rest, the ugly and the primal. he wants to see you turn into a sloppy, dirty mess under him, to stain you with all of the messiness that he’s conditioned himself to avoid his entire life, to take you down into the metaphorical mud and to roll around with you until the two of you are entangled in a caked on mess that makes it physically impossible for him to separate from you.

he can only describe his desire for you in a way that makes his skin crawl with disgust, wanting you so inhumanly to the point his own body starts rejecting it. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“omi- no more-,” you gasp, pinned down on your back to sakusa’s bed. your head lolls helplessly against the pillow, and you barely have the strength to move your face to meet his eyes. your hair is splayed out all over his clean pillowcase, and sakusa’s ragged breath catches in the back of his throat when he sees how beautifully it looks. cum seeps out from between your thighs, and the white seeps all over your legs and drips down into a small pool underneath your ass, indomitable proof how thoroughly he’s ravished you.

he just finished, just came inside of you, and yet the sight of his own cum drenching your body makes blood rush to his cock dangerously. he groans when he feels his dick hardening all over again, swelling up and demanding that he stuff himself back into your warm cunt like nothing happened.

“ah- i’m hard again…,” sakusa mutters. his curly hair sticks to his forehead, the sweat that beads on his skin trickling down the sides of his face. his entire body feels slick and covered with it, and his throat constricts in on itself when he can see the sweat dotting your own body too.

his cock throbs when he notices how much you must be overheating. already driven to the point of overstimulation after he came inside you once, twice already, pretty circular beads of sweat cling to your face and neck, and drops of it drip off of you in twinkling rivulets between your breasts and around your stomach.

the sight makes sakusa fucking shiver with a kind of deeply harbored need that lurches inside of him like a monster.

you shake your head feebly. your eyes have lost focus a long time ago, and all you can register through your hazy mind is the presence of your boyfriend hovering above you. “n-no more, omi- i can’t take another round… ‘ve already cum so much, i-i can’t cum again!”

you look so gorgeous, it makes sakusa dizzy. his pupils are blown open wide with lust. he knows he should be kind to you and let you rest, especially when he’s subjected you to taking his cock mercilessly for two rounds already, but all his horny brain can think of is how much he wants more of you.

“i…,” he trails off weakly. this is bad. the sound of your weak voice and your already fucked out body shouldn’t be turning him on this severely. whatever little self control he has in himself is already wavering on the precipice of snapping, and the very last thing he wants to do is hurt you.

but god, fucking god—he’s never wanted anyone this astronomically badly in his life.

a small bit of sweat trickles down your breast, settling in the valley in between your tits, and some monstrous instinct unconsciously clicks itself into place in the man’s depraved head. you cry out when he pounces on you, your wrists immediately captured by his big, calloused hands as he pins you down afresh against his mattress, effectively trapping you in between his bed and his muscled body.

“omi? wh- what- wait, what are you doing-?” your voice rings like wedding bells in ears as he ducks his head down. ice cold shivers pierce through your entire body when he buries his face in between your tits, and his tongue latches onto your skin, licking one clean stripe up and devouring your sweat.

heat and horror floods you, and you grab at his hair. “d-don’t do that, kiyoomi! it’s dirty-”

you stop mid-sentence when he raises his head at you. the look on his face is downright fucking sultry. his cheeks are dyed a beautiful shade of cherry blossom pink, and his eyes are blown wide open, staring back at you as if caught in the middle of a trance. his lips are swollen and puffy, undoubtedly from how much he’s tried to kiss you while fucking you just moments ago, and his tongue peeks from his mouth. he peers back at you with such pleading eyes that it steals the breath from your throat to see your normally uptight boyfriend in such a pathetic state.

“i need you so badly. you don’t understand,” he breathes, like he’s scared you’ll run away from him if he raises his voice even a little bit. “please, just one more time- i’ll make this the last round, i promise. let me have you the way i want you.”

you tremble as he licks at your skin again. the salty tinge of your sweat makes his skin crawl with delight. sakusa doesn’t particularly care for sweat that much; it’s the body’s natural way of cleansing itself, and as a volleyball player, it’s not like he has the luxury of being put off by it when he makes a living being surrounded by other equally sweaty athletes. but deep down, he’s cognizant that it’s his sheer obsession with you that makes him want to taste you to the point of muddling his own disgust, to lay his tongue on every inch of your skin so that you can’t hide a single thing from him.

you spread your legs slightly for him, and he gets his answer. you clench your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the bruising ache in your cunt when sakusa splits you open for the third time that night, praying desperately that your cervix won’t be screaming in pain tomorrow. he grips his cock, already slick with his cum and your juices, and your velvety hole happily welcomes his weeping tip.

“god, you taste too fucking good-,” he whispers as his tongue lavishes all over your chest. his mouth travels from in between your tits to your neck. he laps greedily at the sweat all over your skin there, flicking at the edge of your face and right where your pulse quivers underneath the skin of your throat.

he forcefully pushes himself in all the way with a grunt, and when you throw your head back in a silent scream, his sharp teeth grazes over your jugular. you’ve never felt this vulnerable before.

“ah- hurts, omi- you’re so big…!” you cry out. you don’t know what’s gotten your boyfriend this particularly depraved tonight, and you don’t know how he still manages to retain his disgustingly huge size even after having fucked you to full orgasm twice. “s-stop licking at me…! i’m sweaty, i’m gross!”

“gross? you? gross?” he’s quick to respond, and his tone is sardonic, as if he can’t believe that you’d call yourself such a thing. you could never be gross in his eyes; sakusa can’t get enough of you in his mouth. he thrusts rapidly into you, already setting up a horrendously brutal pace that has the bed squeaking loudly in protest.

mercilessly hot pangs of arousal squeeze their way through your core. your stomach twists itself into painful knots. the absolute pain of overstimulation battles with the oppressive need for more that settles in your cunt, your drenched and semen-slicked walls sucking in sakusa’s cock. he groans, his deep voice making you clench up around him.

you can’t deny him, ever. not when he’s begging so prettily for you, not when your own body feels like it’s going to turn to putty. it feels good, being pushed to the limit feels good, and the erotic sighs and gasps that come from you only spur him on more. he knows you’re feeling good, and even if it hurts beyond comprehension, he’s going to make sure he engraves that neediness deep into your soul.

it’s the only way you can start to understand the absolute fucked up selfishness in his brain.

his mouth captures your nipple, and he sucks, his tongue tracing over your sensitive bud. you moan, and you buck your hips against him, forcing his dick deeper into you. you feel like you’re choking on your own breaths, his cock burying itself over and over into your worn out cunt, making the pliant muscles of your walls contort to mold to the shape of his dick.

“too much, omi, you’re doing too much!” you’re sobbing, tears dotting the corners of your eyes and falling from your face. they stain the pillowcase underneath you, and sakusa is nothing short of enamored. the tip of his tongue expertly flicks at your hardened nipple, and he times his rapid thrusts so that you feel them exactly at the same time to their fullest impact. your womb careens and threatens to succumb to the pleasure. no matter how much you squirm or thrash against the sheets, sakusa keeps you firmly trapped under him.

it’s cute, how you think you can escape his advances. it was your mistake from the beginning to let him worm his way this deeply into your heart. now your body has to pay the price for your foolishness, and he’s determined to pleasure you so intensely that you physically can’t live without him. the thought makes his chest tighten and swell with happiness.

he briefly lets go of your nipple, and he grins darkly up at you. “i’m doing too much? i’m barely doing anything. what, are you telling me you can’t take it? you’re the one that gave me permission to do so.”

“you’re being too rough- don’t suck my boobs and fuck me at the same time! i’ll cum again!” you whine. your toes curl into the sheets as he bucks his hips against you. wet noises of your bodies colliding fill the room, and all you can make out over the dizzying haze of sex are the sounds of your pussy getting fucked by him. he’s making love to you like an animal, as if holding himself back will destroy him.

“do it then. do it. cum on my cock. cum from how i’m making you feel,” he drawls. you grit your teeth, barely holding back another pathetic moan as his tongue draws circles over your chest. his body is stifling against yours, and the heat has you struggling to breathe. sakusa maintains his steady yet wild rhythm, his balls smacking against your ass, desperate to fill you up with even more of his cum. the semen that he’s already emptied inside of you lurches against the insides of your womb, sloshing around in you and dripping out from your cunt. it smears everywhere, and it acts as a kind of lubrication for him.

you’re just making it too easy for him. your body doesn’t have the means to offer any resistance against him, and all sakusa has to do is keep you in place as he wrecks your cunt as if you’re his personal fleshlight. your pussy won’t quit rubbing up all against his length, your wet walls being everything his cock has dream of. you’re sucking him and jerking him off and writhing all around him, overwhelming every one of his senses with how perfect you are.

his tongue continually laps at you, covering your chest with a sheen of your sweat and his spit. it’s downright fucking filthy, enough to have you recoiling the best you can while being forced to take more and more of his length. you feel so stretched out despite having already taken him earlier than night, like your poor hole can’t fully adjust to his girth no matter how many times he fucks you.

it’s like something unholy has possessed sakusa. he’s all over your body: licking, groping, fucking, touching. no matter how much he stares at your face contorting in pleasure or how much of your taste fills the crevices of his mouth, he can’t get enough. the knot inside of his stomach tightens in on itself. his cock throbs inside of you, wanting you to be carved with his presence from inside out.

the arousal mounting inside of you is nearly blinding. you thrash helplessly, shaking your head back and forth against his pillows. “‘m gonna cum already, omi- slow down…! can’t stop cumming- can’t- can’t take any more of your cock! you’re ruining me, omi- omi, kiyoomi, please!”

“i want to ruin you,” he laughs. “did you just figure it out now, silly girl?”

he isn’t sure if you can hear him through how much he’s fucked you dumb. your words don’t sound like your own and more like echoes of his own thoughts, ripped straight from the part of his brain that wants to trap you in like a bird ensnared in a cage.

“your cock’s ruining me- it feels too good! ‘m gonna cum on it again, gonna cum again- omi, you’re gonna make me cum again! i can’t do it, i can’t- wanna cum- too much- omi, help me…!” you pathetically sob. you don’t know what your body wants. the overstimulation has your brain fucked out and dumb, feeling too heavy to be anchored to earth. but your cunt won’t let go of his dick, determined to have him tear another orgasm out of you. the flutters that echo and shake inside of your core demand it, demand that you hand over your body to him one more time, have him cement you as his for yet another time that night.

“make up your mind,” sakusa exhales. he isn’t actually giving you the freedom to choose between stopping or continuing, because he’s going to force another orgasm out of you one way or the other. “you want me to stop? is that it?”

your voice dies out in the back of your throat when you feel your boyfriend slow his thrusts down, only sliding in and out of you at a snail’s pace. your lower regions scream at you, frustrated at the sudden lack of stimulation. your cunt curls in on itself, the unexpected emptiness of not having him thrusting and filling you up with his length forcing you into shock.

you shake your head again, crying even louder at your own frustration. “don’t stop- ‘t hurts, but don’t stop… your cock’s too good, i need it- give it to me again… i wanna keep going- i need to keep having sex with you, omi…”

“that’s what i thought. you need me, don’t you?” he lets out a small airy chuckle before he slides himself back into you fully, speeding his thrusts up until he’s relentlessly pounding into you again. you arch your back against the bed, moaning out his name and going back to squirming futilely underneath him. his hips keep meeting yours, and he can’t seem to get enough of this sloppy union with you. the one time where you shut out the world to focus only on him, where your bodies come together as one, a sort of holy reverie that sakusa never wants to wake up from.

his mouth itches to taste you again, to take your into his mouth. he wonders if biting into your flesh will help, fill his mouth with you, overwhelm his senses with your presence. your sweaty body keeps rubbing against his, and when you tilt your face to the side to eke out another cry, he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“omi- make me cum, kiyoomi-,” you pant out as he sucks on your ear. his tongue swirls around the shell of your ear, his teeth hovering over the thin skin as if he wants to bite into it. he does, he wants to bite you and mark you and have his mouth overflow with the tang of your blood. but he’ll be good, just for you. he knows something like that will make you scared of him.

you shudder faintly when his tip prods at your cervix, kissing your cunt’s deepest part. the noxious taste of your sweat echoes all around sakusa’s mouth and nose, and the more he inhales the scent of your drenched hair, the more it turns him on. he wants to cum inside of your warm cunt again, and the arousal that thrashes wildly in his stomach spurs him on. you’re close, your pussy clenches and flutters around him the way that it does only when you’re at the brink of orgasm.

it makes sakusa incredibly happy to know how long he’s kept you there this round. he’s memorized every aspect of your body accurately, devoted himself to learning you and pleasuring you perfectly, refusing to let his loyalty to utter stubbornness slip even more so when you’re thrown into the equation.

he jerks his hips forward harshly than he’s done before, determined to fuck himself deeper. you let out a strangled scream when his cockhead rams straight into your g-spot. the paralyzing pleasure that shoots straight into every crevice of your body has you stiffening under his touch, and sakusa grins with a sadistic satisfaction into your hair. you can’t see him, but he can feel the way your pussy recoils and struggles around him, clamping down on him suddenly.

“found it.” he inhales shakily, and you’re left sobbing and mewling out incoherently as he proceeds to pound nonstop into your sweet spot. over and over again, from all the angles he can hit, until you go from thrashing wildly to free yourself to accepting the fact that you have no option except to take the fucking he’s giving you.

you surrender to the pleasure that rips you to pieces, your brain succumbing to the feeling. “c-cumming, omi! cumming, cumming, i’m cumming- ahngh…! hah- oh fuck, fuck, omi- cumming…!”

your cunt practically attaches itself to his cock, squeezing him to what feels like death before something warm rushes over his dick. your orgasm doesn’t hit you like a truck or strangles you entirely; it sneaks up on you like a shadow, and you’re consumed with the feeling of being shoved underwater. you struggle to breathe properly, wallowing in the waves of your own climax. it’s dull, and it hurts—you shouldn’t have kept letting him fuck you, and now you’re paying the price of the torturous ache that spreads all throughout your body.

you cry yourself through your high. you’re reeling as if you’ve been shocked. the heat claws painfully at every inch of your skin, and the soreness that blooms inside of you is living proof of sakusa’s loving handwork.

the man on top of you grunts, grinding down on his teeth when he feels your pussy milking him through your orgasm. he genuinely struggles to pull himself out of you; the sheer force of your cunt clinging to him nearly has him buckling at the knees. sakusa manages to keep thrusting through your climax, enjoying the wounded whines that you pant out. you peer up at him weakly, your eyes trembling as a bead of sweat trickles down the bridge of your nose. your hollow gaze meets sakusa’s fiery one.

something inside of him snaps.

he cums with a gritted cry, and you immediately feel the added pressure that mounts inside of your cunt. his cum spills everywhere, and he fucks himself through it, making your legs shake around his hips. he slams himself down into you harshly, his tip kissing the entrance to your womb as he desperately tries to stuff another round of semen as deeply as he can into you.

the pleasure for him is nothing short of blinding. the only thing he has on his mind is how delusionally in love he is with you, and he swears to himself at that moment that he’s never going to let you slip through his fingers. god, he thanks the stars at the fact that you’re this willing to let him love you, otherwise, there’s no telling just how drastic he might have gotten to prove his heart to you.

“kiyoomi…”

he collapses on top of you, barely stopping himself from crushing your already spent body with his entire body weight. he presses his forehead against you as he inhales shakily a few times, just to calm his frantic heart. the reflection of himself in your widened eyes looks more like a feral man than what he’d normally expect out of himself. he’s aware that his now softening cock is still stuck inches deep into your flooded pussy, yet as he lets himself rest on top of your body, sakusa really doesn’t have it in himself to pull out.

“d-don’t you want to clean up?” you sound so small when he releases your wrists. there are marks on your skin, indicating where he held onto you for dear life, not wanting to let you go for even a second. you don’t run away from him; instead, you wrap your arms around him and hold him even closer to you.

much to your surprise, he shakes his head. he can’t bring himself to talk to you just yet, relishing the afterglow and the aftermath of his cruelty and his love. it’s dangerous, and it constantly demands to consume him whole, to make ashes of his whole spirit and to burn you alongside it. sakusa knows he should tame the untamable part of him that demands more and more from you, yet he can’t bring himself to fully put a muzzle on it. a placid sakusa kiyoomi wouldn’t be the same man that fell in love with you.

for now, he lets it run rampant. he lets you take the hit, lets you console a haunted version of him. it’s nothing like his icy facade, the clean polished part of him that he personally shines and sharpens like a knife pressed to the world’s throat. with you, he can be as disheveled and disarrayed as he wants, and you’ll let him feed you the scraps, chewing it up and swallowing it down as if he were the most perfect man in the entire universe. he desires nothing more except to metaphorically devour you whole, until you become an inseparable part of his very being. you love him, through all of his grimy and unkempt obsession.

and by god, is it so, so messy.

KINKTOBER 2023—le quatrième jour.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #sakusa kiyoomi #x reader #fem reader #my writing

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ilylovelyz · 9 months

Note

I just need a very comfort sakusa story with a s/o struggling with s/h and su1c1d4l toughts and social anxiety

⍣ ೋ bittersweet symphony

˚ · . sakusa x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ depression, self harm, negative body image, social / general anxiety, angst, suicidal thoughts, sakusa is awkward, not dumb, bathing, angst with a happy ending

'cause it's a bittersweet symphony, thats life.

you hear the soft pattering of footsteps approaching. judging by the softness, you assume he's checking on you again.

sakusa had just returned from a long day of practice, one that was filled with thoughts about your concern and wellbeing. despite being sweaty and feeling immensely dirty, hungry, and almost exhausted, his first priority is to come to you.

he's careful not to startle you, making sure his footsteps aren't too loud or noisy.

despite hiding your face away from him, away from the world, you can still feel him kneel down to the floor next to you, his body weight resting on the front of his feet.

"hey," he softly says, his hand coming up to lay a comforting hand on top of your blanket clad back.

your back muscles instantly relax at his touch, the heaviness of his hand against your skin is almost oddly comforting to you.

he's almost sighing in relief when you don't fight him like you did this morning when the same hand is slowly pulling off the comforter off your body, revealing the distressed state that is you.

you're laying face down against the floor of the living room, it's a strange area you've chosen as your safe place, but he doesn't really seem to question it either. not that he wants to question you about it either, especially since you're in such a soft mental state at the moment.

"hey, how are you feeling..?" he asks again, his tone low and gentle. his hand comes up to pat the back of your head, his fingers intertwining with your tangled locks, twirling them around when he's noticed the built up oil.

you only hum a short response to him, too tired to say an actual word.

he sighs softly, his eyelids low as he wonders how to get you off the spot that is the dirty floor. you've been in a depressive state for awhile now, and while you've had your fair amounts of highs and lows, this is definitely the worst you've had in awhile.

he feels almost guilty and helpless as he wonders how to make you feel better. he thinks back to the night when you were having a mental breakdown because you thought you weren't enough, wondering if you should just end it all so that way everyone doesn't have to "deal" with you.

but sakusa can beg to differ.

sakusa understands. he's not an idiot, he's not one of those people who are on some stupid high horse and view those who simply have emotions as wimps. no, he's more than understanding.

while he's never had it as bad as you have it, but he can say that he's felt what you've been feeling before, and he knows that it's not the best feeling either.

and he knows these feelings of yours won't just disappear overnight, it takes time to heal.

and luckily for you, sakusa is a patient man. he won't stomp his feet with frustration when you turn down his offer of going on a walk with him, too embarrassed and scared of the thought of being seen by numerous people in your current state, nor will he scold you for not eating the food he made you because you just don't feel like eating.

no, he'll happily lift you up and carry you while he walks if he has to. he'll encourage you to eat, and small portion by portion, he'll make sure by the end of the day, your stomach is at least getting the nutrients and energy it needs.

"y/n," he calls out once more, a light bulb going off in his head as he gets an idea. he gets up and changes his position, sitting in front of you. he leans down ever so slightly, his hands gently encouraging you to look at him.

he's lightly smiling when you do, a soft glint in his eyes as he's proud of the little step you just took. to some, it's almost childish, to him, it's a blessing that you're wanting to lift your head up and look at him after being almost glued to the floor for the past two days.

the lover inside of him has him leaning down a little more to place a soft kiss onto your forehead, his hands still holding your jaw with the lightest pressure ever. "wanna take a bath with me? i bet it'll make you feel better. maybe make you feel more refreshed." he asks, removing one of his hands from your jaw so he can hold your hand.

when you softly shake your head positively at his request, he's shaking his head too, mumbling a little "yeah? yeah," as he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up as if you were his child and carrying you to the bathroom.

he removes your clothes carefully, treating you as if you were fine china. the water is warm, set to your favorite temperature. he'll lead you into the bath, his hand guiding you into it so that way you don't slip.

"does it feel better?" he'll ask while washing your hair, his hands massaging the base of your scalp with a pressure that as you relaxing into him. he's almost prideful when you hum pleasingly at his touch, finding comfort that his attempts don't go unnoticed.

then it comes to wash your body. he starts with your neck, the back of your ears, and shoulders. it almost tickles you, the way his fingers are expertly touching you in your most sensitive spots and pressure points. you try to shy away from his touch, a little self conscious in your body and unshaved skin, but he doesn't allow you to.

"you're so pretty," he whispers against your nape, his hands pausing against your skin to squeeze at your flesh.

you're then stilling again him when he starts to scrub against your arms, cheeks heating up with self-loathing and shame when you're reminded of the clear old and fresh scars on your wrists that lead up to almost your elbow.

you thought he would maybe scold you for it, or maybe look at you with disgust, scared of what you thought was ugly and mortifying.

you almost melted when he just continued to scrub around your scars, the pressure of the scrubbing lightening around that specific area as to not irritate some of the more fresher ones. "this doesn't hurt right? not too rough?" he asks casually, not seeming to even mind the cuts.

it almost brings you to tears, the way he's just so gentle and accepting to you.

towards the end of the bath, he'll quickly wrap a towel around you first, not wanting you to get cold. as his hands wrap the towel around your frame, his hands close it in over your chest, his eyes soft and tender. you fight the urge to cry when he's then pulling you in for a kiss, his hold on you never ending and warm.

he'll hold you there for awhile, never minding that he doesn't have his own towel, or that he's almost on the verge of shivering because he's cold.

sakusa will happily lift you up into his arms once more, not minding the wet puddles that follow after his footsteps. he'll happily tuck you into the warm covers that is the bed he used to share with you.

he'll happily play with your now cleaned hair, knowing that you like it when he plays with your hair until you fall asleep. it takes awhile until you do, he'll ignore the cramp in his fingers after playing with your hair for almost an hour until you finally lull asleep, but sakusa is a patient man.

afterall, healing is a long process, and the two of you have all the time in the world to heal and rest.

please leave a like and repost with tags :)

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white-poppie · 1 year

Text

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚!𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞

Character: Mafia!Sakusa x Civillian!Reader (Based on the poll) Genre: Mafia AU, Yandere Warnings: blood WC: 0.5k+ Writer:@white-poppie

~ Synopsis: "When Sakusa meets a kind and fearless stranger with similar taste, he can't help but fulfil their rather vicious desires."

~ Note: This is very rushed! My exams are starting soon and I wanted to gift something to you guys before I vanish *poof*

Sakusa was a level-headed man. Smart, cunning and sometimes even manipulative if he might. It wasn't a choice, it was a necessity in the profession he was in.

But right now he was submerged in the twilight zone of obsession and desire. Since he met you, he hasn’t been himself.

Sakura Kiyoomi, the leader of the Japanese Yakuza faction called ‘The Black Jackals’ has a history of distaste for humans in general. He is just slightly concerned about his hygiene and health. As a child, he suffered from a weak immune system. Therefore, as he grew older and the responsibility of the gang came upon his shoulders, he had to be even more cautious about getting sick.

He first saw you at a museum he was visiting. He liked to see his crime scene before committing the crime. He was casually looking at the pieces until one of them caught his eye. A fierce-looking woman in a black dress stood on a medieval balcony looking towards the sky. Her eyes were red and distant and her beauty was so enthralling, one could almost ignore the blood on her figure.

It was spellbinding, the way he automatically moved closer to the frame, until his chest came into contact with something soft. He looked down to see a person, brows scrunched up in distaste, but with a very unkind smile on their face.

"Apologies," he said gruffly and you were taken aback by how melodic his voice sounded unlike his clothes, which looked like he had walked straight out of a 12-year-old girl's fantasy.

"It's fine," you sighed, "you may have to be the second one mesmerized by Madame Hien's beauty."

He tilted his head in question.

"The painting," you replied. "It's called 'Madame Hien'."

He looked back up at the painting. Such exquisite artwork, surely anyone would be enamoured by it, but why were only the two of you there?

"You said the second one. What is that supposed to mean?"

You smiled and looked ahead. "Madame Hien has a reputation for being cursed." You crossed your elbows and looked back at him.

He piped, "aren't you scared?"

"What is there to be scared of? Its a painting, art is supposed to make the comfortable uncomfortable. The artist wanted to make it famous by spreading this rumour however unlike other 'haunted paintings', luck didn't side this one. It didn't become famous."

A deep laugh reverberated through his chest. "such a shame, a masterpiece like this in a secluded corner of a tiny museum owned by the government."

You chuckled at his words, "You talk like an anti-communist during the world wars."

He crossed his hands behind his back, "It's a shame really, this painting deserves so much more than this."

You sighed longingly, "sometimes I wish it had a better place to exist."

You look at her black dress, "wish someone would be kind enough to steal it from this godforsaken place."

He smirked and looked towards you, "for an ideal citizen , you talk really dark."

You smiled and answered, "perhaps, law is there to break anyways."

"So hypothetically if I ever plan on doing something illegal, can I count you in?"

"A hundred percent!" you laughed and fished for your business car, "feel free to call me if you ever want to do something illegal."

Sakusa was hesitant to feel another human's touch, but he agreed, "got you."

You looked at your watch in a hurry, "oh no I have a meeting in an hour!"

Quickly you started heading towards the gate, before stopping dead in your tracks, "wait I never asked your name."

He hesitated as he stared at the floor quietly. "Kiyoomi." He said without mentioning his family name.

You flashed him a smile, "Y/N L/N."

BREAKING NEWS: 'Minor painting in the city museum was stolen. The painting titled, 'Madame Hein' which was infamous for cursing those who saw it, has been stolen. The bizarre fact os that the CCTV footage of the entire day of the museum has been erased completely. The thief left the following message graffitied on the museum wall where the painting used to be.

"It's in a better place now, stranger. See you soon." -- K

⤷‧₊˚ HAIKYU!! (ハイキュー!!)

🥀 BYI/DNI ♡⌇ Request Rules 𓏸 🗝️ ₊﹒《 Join my Taglist •

TAGS: @akumicchi, @nanaseishiro, @denkis111, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @kristaline2dmensimp, @innerpurple, @sakinotfound, @oikawatoorupdf, , @juanasspirit, @renster05, @cleaningfairylevi

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yanderecrazysie · 9 months

Note

Can you do a Yandere Sakusa one-shot?

Absolutely! I feel like I barely saw any of Sakusa in Haikyuu- so many people love him but I totally struggle with getting a feel for his personality. And thank you so much!

Also, it’s been a little while since I wrote about murder. Let’s change that! ^-^

Title: Competitive

Pairings: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, descriptions of murder, I know nothing about Japanese volleyball rules for girls on guy teams so just pretend I’m right

Summary: Sakusa’s never felt this competitive before. Maybe it has something to do with his newest opponent.

competitive

/adjective/

having or displaying a strong desire to be more successful than others:

Sakusa had never felt this alive.

He was used to staying in the background with a bored, disdainful expression. Judging people from a distance while staying in his own little germ-free corner. He rarely found interest in anything but volleyball.

Sure, he got competitive during volleyball, much more than in any other aspect of his life. He didn’t like leaving things unfinished and losing felt unfinished. He had a tendency to label rivals as a threat and overfocus on them throughout every match.

But never had he been more competitive than against this team.

He couldn’t understand why he viewed most of this team as such a threat or why he wanted to crush them harder than any team in the past.

Sakusa prided himself on his honesty, even if it went into the territory of being way too blunt. But this wasn’t so much lying to himself as it was being unable to figure out why?

He barely heard the whistle sound as he blankly turned to look at the scoreboard. Oh. They’d won. And by nearly 15 points. He’d been much too focused on the game to pay attention to the score. It felt like a blur.

The team he was playing at lined up and began to do their punishment exercises- running up and down the hill outside. Honestly, the training camp was going easy on everyone. If you lost in a competition, you were out.

Sakusa’s eyes trailed after one particular player as the number 13 jersey jogged through the morning dew-laden grass. You.

He’d been surprised that a team had let a girl play, but he had originally supposed you were just a bench warmer, let on to keep the parents’ mouths shut about equality. He had been outright shocked (though he’d never show it) when you lined up to play off against the other teams as not even the libero, but the setter.

You weren’t filling in for anyone, either, that much was for sure. Sakusa had watched your team beat another before playing against his and you were good. Your movements were fluid, your form was perfect, and you were a quick-thinker. Not a genius like Kageyama and not as talented as Oikawa, but you were a worthy opponent by far.

When he went up against your team, one of the wing-spikers (the one right across from him) said something snarky, something he couldn’t even remember anymore, and put his arm around you for just a moment while laughing.

And then, he’d been consumed by a need to win he couldn’t hope to control.

When your team turned around to run down the hill, he could see the disappointment on your face. You felt bad about losing, most likely, even though you’d probably done your very best. Sakusa didn’t know, he hadn’t been paying attention to you during the match.

Although, now it was over, he felt like he should have been.

You looked like an angel, with the sun’s rays lighting you up at that angle- he almost expected a halo to appear above your head. Your beautiful skin shone with sweat but it just enhanced your looks by making you glow.

He wasn’t the type to get this distracted by a girl, but he couldn’t help it.

“Why are you in a corner by yourself?”

To anyone else, Sakusa would say something biting, making them leave with their tails between their legs. To you, he could only look down at his food silently, wishing he had the guts to say anything to you.

“Would you like to sit with us?” Your voice was so soothing, so kind… You probably thought he was lonely, all by himself, when he did this to himself. He just wanted to get away from the crowd as they ate lunch, but you…

You really forced him out of his comfort zone from the moment you met him, huh?

“I’d prefer to stay here,” he managed to mumble out.

“Oh, okay,” you looked a little disappointed. Were you hoping to hang out with him? His heart lifted a little at the thought but quickly plummeted when you dejectedly walked away.

He knew then that, if you gave him the chance, he’d do anything to bring that smile back to your face.

The universe must hate him, Sakusa was sure of that.

Somehow, he’d been tasked to be the one to clean up all the dirty, germ-ridden volleyball equipment at the end of the night, along with that infuriating guy from your team that always had his hands all over you.

But you’d given Sakusa a little wave and sweet smile as you left, and that’s all that really mattered to him. Silly that a girl he’d just met had so much power over him.

There was a cage filled with all sorts of different PE equipment that the volleyballs were meant to go in. The two boys jogged around the gym, scooping up the balls, dropping them in the cage, and repeating.

It would’ve been fine, had it been in silence. But the other boy just would not shut up.

At first it was little digs at how their team would beat his next time, about how Sakusa’s a “weird guy”, and then he said something that sealed his fate.

“(Y/n)’s pretty hot though, don’t you think? The girl on our team? Bet you’re jealous.”

Oh, he was jealous. Jealous beyond words.

“Yeah, I’m glad she’s on the team- she looks hot in a jersey and shorts. Doesn’t she?”

Is this how he always talked about you? Did you know about this.

The two of them stopped at the cage to drop off volleyballs. As your teammate turned around to gather more, Sakusa fished around deeper inside, under the volleyballs.

“I really wish she’d let me-”

CRACK

The sound of a baseball bat meeting the side of the jerk’s skull was a wonderful sound to Sakusa.

The boy slumped forwards, landing on his face and not moving. For good measure, Sakusa brought the bat down hard on the back of his head. Twice.

He didn’t bother to touch his disgusting body to get a pulse reading- he could see the guy was dead from a mile away. It felt good. Better than he’d ever expected.

The threat was gone. Now both you and Sakusa could be a little happier.

But he wanted more. He wanted all of the competition out of the way, until it was just you and him. Maybe that was selfish of him but he couldn’t help it.

He wondered how many of your teammates he could dispose of before this week-long training camp was over.

#yandere #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu!!#yandere one shot #yandere x reader #one shot #yandere sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi

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ninefuckingoneone-ssideblog · 1 year

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Ok but guys I'm thinking of yandere! sakuatsu x reader. I have this delectable dynamic in my mind that i just can't get out. Like yn and tsumu are besties they're so alike eachother that it's such a headache for our Omi-Omi.

The premier is basically Atsumu and yn are gonna have Best friends to lovers and

Sakusa and yn have enemies to adopted friends (sakusa was sceptical and yn didn't think it was any different than adopting a stray hissing cat) to lovers.

Butttt ofc yn doesn't know that, yn isn't even aware when they turned their original titles to 'lovers'. Teaming up to bound her to themselves when she plans a vacation away to think through their abrupt proposals due to the sheer weight of having her life upturned; without their knowledge. How dare she try to leave them after all the mess she's created.

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #yandere sakusa kiyoomi #yandere atsumu #yandere haikyuu #idk how to tag #sakuatsu x reader #sakusa x reader x atsumu #yandere sakuatsu #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi smut #atsumu miya smut #haikyuu smut #hq x reader

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angelkunimi · 2 years

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unhinged (m)

sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader (+ ex!atsumu)

synopsis: even if you think justice has been served, you realise you’ll never be free from your stalker

warnings: 18+ only. yandere themes, stalking, PTSD, paranoia, anxiety, manipulation, trespassing, death threats, some making out, mild violence + blood, knife use, mentions of kidnapping, smoking, one instance of spitting

wc: 4.5k

a/n: my first fic of this blog hooray! i hope you enjoy, it’s not that good but it’s my first time writing after so long so please enjoy :)

you never used to appreciate being able to breathe.

you do still breathe, of course you do- to exist. but breathing used to be so much easier back before, in that time that seemed lifetimes ago. now it’s uncomfortable. the ache deep in your chest, the tightness, the battering of your heart against your rib cage as you try to suck in those slow breaths, deep, slow, one count, two count, three…

smoking was probably the worst decision you could’ve made. but you need something to take the edge off, something just to make you feel bliss for just a few temporary bittersweet moments. of course, you can’t fully appreciate it. after the sun sets, your living room is hazy when you can only crack the window open a few inches, curtains still tightly drawn to protect you from the peers of the outside world, as you breathe out those grey dregs of smoke, the acrid taste hot on your tongue, tight in your chest, fingers trembling as you flick ash in the glass ashtray.

maybe you’re being pessimistic.

things could’ve gone so much more worse but it didn’t. you still have a decent job- an anonymous, quiet 9-5 lab job at some chemical plant down on the outskirts of the city. tall brick walls with barbed wire, security at each electric gate, fluorescent lights in the car park and a convenient parking spot for your car right by the door when you come in and leave your lab every morning and evening is just perfect. safety means perfect. and you’re getting better- you can go out by yourself now. you do the grocery shops and you treat yourself to coffees and just last week you made it to the edge of the park, breathing in the crisp cool autumn air, watching the chestnut and mustard leaves flutter to the rain-stained ground, listening to the breeze whistle. of course, you only ever go out during daylight- the winter months will be rougher but you’re certain you’ll be better then. you have to be.

after all, at least you’re not dead.

sanity seems like a privilege but you’re grateful for the things you still have, for the things he couldn’t snatch away amongst everything else.

atsumu is one of them.

he takes in a deep breath of anticipation before he digs into his food- warm, sticky rice, hot spicy soup, delicious dumplings, his cheeks bulging with the delicious feast laid all over your coffee table as the two of you lounge on the couch, catching up on your favourite netflix series together.

“i fuckin’ love food.” the blond man manages to chuckle with his mouth full, flecks of rice spitting out which makes you grimace as you shoot him a glare.

“don’t be so disgusting, tsumu.” he merely laughs, brown eyes merry as he continues to tuck in and you can’t resist the smile that tugs at your lip as you force an eye roll.

“now ya just sound like-” he cuts off when you stiffen and his face becomes solemn as he realises the words falling out of his mouth. he clears his throat as he puts down his plate of food, the porcelain clattering against the wood but you avoid his eyes, staring straight ahead at the television.

“i’m sorry-”

“no.” you cough slightly. “it’s okay- just a mistake. let’s not talk about it.”

“y/n-” you get up abruptly, pushing away your untouched food in favour of your cigarettes. marlboro red. he exhales heavily, watching you light up the stick between your fingers. “i think we need to talk about this.”

you lock eyes with his brown ones and it makes your chest twinge as you see the seriousness in them. it makes you angry really, more angry than sad. he stole so much from you- he stole your happiness, your home, your friends and family, your life! he stole you from you, leaving you an empty shell. and he stole your love. the one true love you had. you’re grateful for atsumu to still be here, to still be your friend and still hang out with you and help you and that he’ll still drive to your house in the middle of the night when you have a panic attack even if he has practise at 6am but it’s not the same. all because of him.

“okay.” you mumble, tapping your cigarette on the edge of the tray and watching the ash fall. “fine. what?” atsumu’s dark brows tug together as he studies you carefully.

“so, yer know he’s gettin’ out? the courts wrote to ya, didn’t they?” a smile stretches across your face as you chuckle mirthlessly.

“oh yeah, they wrote to me. good behaviour.” you shake your head, laughing. “what am i supposed to say? yeah, i’m completely okay. i’m not terrified. i’m not angry. i haven’t had my whole life destroyed, like nothing ever happened! like i can still sleep more than just a few hours a night and i don’t have nightmares and i can go out and live a normal life because everything is fucking okay.” you’re trembling, eyes wet as you take a long drag of your cigarette, an empty smile stretched across your face as atsumu just stares at you.

a low swear falls from his lips as he reaches a hand out, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i really am, i wish- yer didn’t deserve any of it.” he shakes his head, blond locks falling into his eyes. “and ya know, it feels like it was all my fault. if only i hadn’t introduced yer to him, if only i hadn’t tried to make yer be friends with him, if only i had set proper boundaries and ya know, knocked some sense into him when he started gettin’ all weird-”

“no, no, not at all.” you smile as you grasp atsumu’s hand, running your thumb along his knuckles. “you know it’s not your fault- how were you supposed to know? it wasn’t your fault, it isn’t mine. it’s not anyone’s but- but sakusa’s.”

you grimace at the bitterness of his name before sighing heavily, stubbing out your cigarette as you reach for your plate of food. but you don’t eat, because nothing really tastes all that nice anymore.

“he’ll be on probation, ya know? and he has a restrainin’ order so you’ll be okay. i don’t think he’ll even dare violate it, not if he knows what’s good for him.” you nod at atsumu’s comforting words, trying to let them seep in, trying to believe it’ll all be okay.

“is he rejoining the team?” the blond man shakes his head.

“nah, too much bad publicity for the owners. he’ll probably stay lowkey for the first few months and probably sign to a new team when the media have turned away their attention. but-” he looks at you earnestly. “i promise ya, no matter what he tries, ya know i won’t let him contact ya. as for shoyo and kōtarō, i can’t speak for them but they won’t tell him anythin’- i know they won’t.” you return atsumu’s smile, nodding.

“yeah. it’ll be okay. i’ll be okay.”

you don’t go to work the day he gets released.

you probably should, it’d be better to move on with your life but you can’t set foot outside your house. cctv and doorbell camera on, windows locked, hallway light on to check for footsteps under the door, phone fully charged, thumb hovering over the emergency call icon. social media is no good for you- you feel new again to it, now that you’ve only just made accounts again- but trending hashtags, videos, headlines, all his name.

you’re embarrassed at how you start just when your phone vibrates, your thudding heart slowing when you read atsumu’s familiar name flashing across your screen.

u ok? :))

you smile as you type out a response and with a heavy sigh, you collapse onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

you’re going to be okay.

the first time it happens you think you’re going insane.

a cup of coffee. on the countertop.

you’re hyperventilating in your kitchen, trembling and shaking. coffee. cup. countertop. your knees feel weak, chest aching as your body rushes with adrenaline, head spinning. you’re crying as you’re pulling out your phone. words barely choke out with breathlessness, a long knife clutched in your hand as you sink to the cold tile floors, hoping you don’t die tonight.

and you don’t. you and atsumu stand in your kitchen, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as the detectives finally return to you.

“ma’am, everything’s good.” the first detective, an older man with a thick moustache says. “we’ve sweeped the house- windows and doors are all locked. nobody’s been in here.”

“are you sure?” your cheeks are wet with tears as you stare at the two detectives, pleading.

“y/n-” atsumu’s voice is a little whisper and you try not to flinch.

“ma’am,” the detective sounds frustrated. “we’ve checked. nobody is in here. nobody has entered your home.”

“miss,” the second detective is a woman, a sweet one with a tender smile that makes you feel heard, somewhat understood. “we understand your fears, honestly we do. but you are safe, i assure you. all your windows and doors are locked, nothing has any sign of forced entry, nothing missing. this is just your own coffee mug. you are okay.”

you exhale heavily, forcing a nod as your head begins to ache and atsumu apologises as he leads the detectives to the door. you can hear them mutter in low, hushed voices in the hallway before atsumu apologises a final time for the total waste of their time and they leave. the door locks, one click, two click of the two keyholes, latch on, chain sliding against the wood.

you don’t meet atsumu’s eyes when he walks back into the kitchen, a heavy sigh escaping him. you’re tired, you feel stupid and sheepish, you don’t need this but that doesn’t stop him.

“what the hell is wrong with ya?” it would’ve been better if he had yelled at you, not used that tone of disbelief, of disgust, of embarrassment. “callin’ the police- and me- because yer couldn’t remember ya had a cup of coffee?”

“no, atsumu, i thought-”

“i know what ya thought!” he cuts you off with indignation, rolling his eyes heavily as his fingers curl up into fists. “but come on! if he was standin’ here right in your kitchen i’d understand but a fuckin’ cup?” he shakes his head as you feel your shoulders curl, your eyes falling onto the tile floor. “i was on a date tonight.” your throat goes dry as he rubs at the crease between his brows. your chest is heavy. “she was really nice, we were havin’ a good time and just when i thought i was actually gettin’ somewhere, my ex is callin’ me up because she’s runnin’ around the house with a knife, going crazy and senile over a fuckin’ cup of coffee she couldn’t remember drinkin’.” you gasp at his words, breathless and it stings.

crazy.

he thinks you’re crazy.

“i know what he did to you, i get it but for god’s sake, y/n, can’t ya even try to get over it? i am always here for ya! all the damn time! i don’t even know if yer want to try to have a normal life again but i definitely do.”

“i’m sorry.” atsumu just glares at you, your futile apology nothing to him.

“whatever.” he mutters as he tugs off his jacket. “lock the door after i leave and just go to sleep, for fuck’s sake.”

you and atsumu don’t talk much after that.

he doesn’t bother messaging you much and you can’t blame him. after all, after everything that happened he was the only one who ever stuck around. not that you were resentful towards your old friends and family- who would want to stick around with you after everything that happened? the screaming and crying, anxiety fits in the middle of the streets, paranoid phone calls and accusations at 3am.

it’s empty and it’s hard. you continue going to work but it’s nerve-wracking. you wake up groggy and peer out of the windows before you even dare step out of the house. you check the back seats of your car, the boot, you test the brakes before you even set off to work. grocery shopping, coffee runs, anything for necessity or leisure is pushed away- your head just spins, blood pounds in your ears, your chest hurts and you feel like you’re going to be nauseous anytime you go out.

the worst thing is, you really thought the cup of coffee was a mistake.

but it only gets worse.

sometimes it’s little things. you’re trying to sleep in the middle of the night but you’re disturbed by the bright yellow light of your motion sensor security light flashing, illuminating your bedroom through your curtains. the first time you force yourself to breathe. stray cats, squirrels, foxes- all reasonable explanations. but it happens the second time. a third. and by then you’re shaking, trying to hold back the heavy breaths choked in your throat as you scramble for your phone, finger hovering over the dial icon. but atsumu’s words ring in your ears and you force yourself to breathe slow counts, just like the therapist taught you, just like you’ve rehearsed with atsumu. one breath, two breath, three…

when you get the courage to creep towards the window nothing seems out of the ordinary. but you can’t seem to quell the disturbing ache of nausea in the pit of your stomach when you see the rose bushes rustling in the still night.

a missing hairbrush you can’t seem to remember where you put. your underwear collection seems to be getting smaller. you don’t know how you’ve been going through your snack cupboard so quickly.

you can’t say you’re not scared- of course you are. you barely sleep, eyes wide staring at the light flooding beneath your door, just terrified of the dark shadows of footsteps that might just appear. the motion sensor lights flashes more often these nights. but you also feel stupid, your cheeks feeling hot and shame prickling your skin every time you remember atsumu’s harsh snarls, the bitterness in his eyes and that’s when you sigh heavily, sliding the knife out from under your pillow and slipping it into your bedside cabinet instead. sakusa stole your life, but did that mean you’d have to steal atsumu’s too?

if only you had listened to yourself.

you don’t hear anything. not over the sound of the blender whirring your evening smoothie. banana. frozen raspberries. milk. syrup. chia seeds.

but it stops abruptly and you gasp when you feel it. the sharpness, the icy coolness of the tip of the knife edging into the back of your neck.

it’s like your heart stops. blood runs cold, your heart hammering and the nausea of adrenaline flooding your system is overpowering as you tremble, trapped between him and the kitchen island.

“don’t scream.”

you could never forget his voice. that deep, soft murmur that haunts your nightmares. you don’t think you could scream even if you wanted to.

“phone?”

you swallow as you pick your phone off the countertop, sliding it across to which he quickly grabs it. his hands are pale, green veins popping and knuckles bruised.

“look at me.”

you turn around slowly, heart hammering. black obsidian eyes, dark curls, that stoic expression painting his handsome face- everything you wished you could forget.

you stare at each other for a moment and he takes in everything so carefully, his eyes travelling over ever inch of you and you’re sure he’s committing everything to memory, relishing every single moment of this nightmare.

“y/n.” you hate how he breathes your name, like it’s a glorious prayer to him, like it’s not curses to you.

“what are you doing here?” you can only whisper, a timid cracked whisper. but sakusa doesn’t reply- instead he just pulls you into his arms and you’re trembling as you’re stuck in his grip, hating the feeling of his hands squeezing you, his face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling in your smell, his warmth suffocating you.

but then he pulls away and you see how his jaw clenches, how his fist tightens around the knife and your stomach drops when you realise it’s the same damn knife stuffed in your bedside cabinet. how long?

“i want a cup of coffee.”

the cup clatters when you put it down on the kitchen table, sakusa sat comfortably at it, legs outstretched, eyes fixated on you and the knife held readily in his hands. he sighs when he takes a sip and then with a tap of the knife, he indicates for you to sit beside him.

“your coffee tastes better than mine.” your hands curl into fists at his mutter- how stupid. you should’ve known- you shouldn’t had been so easily convinced by the stupid detectives and atsumu- they underestimated him, they ignored you- he told you you were crazy but you were right. all along. and now…

“please.” you whisper. “just leave. nobody will know and we can-” he cuts you off with a sharp tsk and clatters the knife against the table, shutting you up as you flinch.

“y/n, you sent me to prison.” he begins, lip curling with venom. “and you know, the one thing worse than not being able to see you was that hell. dirty. unsanitary. full of animals.” he shakes his head, curls falling into his dark eyes. “locked up there, every single day the fucking same…because of you.” he gazes at you heavily. “just because i loved you.”

you’re not sure what to say, the pressure under knife point too heavily as you swallow hard.

“so are you here for revenge then? is that it? are you going to kill me?” sakusa smiles, evidently amused, as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“i’m not that petty. sure, you made me lose everything- my family, friends, my career, freedom.” you want to yell at him. call him a selfish cunt and tell him he deserves everything, and so much worse, for the relentless torment he’s caused you. but you don’t. you thought everything would be so much more different if you ever had to face him again, but it isn’t. you’re just still terrified. “but no, i’m not going to kill you. i want you to give me a bath instead.”

you’re bewildered at his request. it feels like some sort of fucked up play when you guide him upstairs, painfully reminded by the knife edging into your back not to pull anything funny. he holds it the entire time, the whole time you run the bath, swatting the water steadily filling up the tub and asking him for his optimum temperature, asking him whether he’d like usual epsom salts or lavender, offering him a towel. and you’re forced to watch him undress, cringing as you have to see him peel off his clothes, revealing his pale body underneath, that bulky body rippled with muscles that just stands as a reminder of how much bigger, stronger, powerful he is than you.

sakusa groans as he sinks into the water, his eyes falling heavy as his body relaxes. you’re kneeling by the side, hands gripping the edge of the cold porcelain bathtub, holding your breath as you can’t even comprehend the situation. it’d almost be so comical at how fucked up it is, at how fucked up sakusa is forcing you into this disgusting thing. his head falls back against the tub and his lids are heavy as he gazes at you.

“this is a luxury you don’t get in prison. imagine what it’s like, hundreds of men lining up at one time, short two minute showers, grimy cubicles without a single bit of privacy.” he gives a humourless smile. “that’s what i had to put up with. because of you.” you’re stunned when he spits at you, a harsh, nasty spit full of venom and you gasp as you fall back, gingerly touching the horrible wet saliva splattered across your face. your face crumples and you want to cry, but your damn body just can’t react, just won’t react, not with the shock and fear pulsating through you.

“you got put away because you hurt me.” it’s the quietest whisper and sakusa gasps when he suddenly scrambles up, water splashing and he’s grabbing your face, cheeks squishing between his hands as he tugs you close. it’s a shock to see him like this, such an antithesis to the calm collected man you thought you knew when his eyes are flashing and manic.

“i love you. i never wanted to hurt you, damn it.” it’s starting to ache, how his calloused fingers press into your tender skin.

“i was with atsumu!” he tuts as he pushes you away, vein throbbing in his forehead as his hands curl into fists.

“you really think that blond idiot cares about you? like i do?”

the words strike something in you and suddenly you’re extending a gentle hand, fingertips grazing along his forearm.

“i’m sorry, kiyoomi. you’re right.” he shoots you a piercing glare, heavy brow raised as he scoffs.

“do you think i’m stupid?”

“no!” your cry is permeated with earnestness. “you are right- atsumu doesn’t care.” you give a mirthless chuckle. “he thinks i’m crazy, annoying, i’m a nuisance to him really. but you,” you circle your fingers around his hand, the other gripping the knife tighter. you hope he doesn’t notice your trembling. “you went to prison for me, kiyoomi.”

he’s thinking hard as he stares down at your entwined fingers but you know it’s not enough. so you take the gamble and cup his face, smashing your lips against his.

he tastes of brandy and salt but his skin is warm and smooth under your fingertips- you could almost pretend this would’ve been nice in a different universe. you kiss him, heavy and hard and your heart hammers when he returns it, groaning against your lips as his hand slides into your hair, tugging to deepen the kiss. it’s hot, heavy, his tongue sliding into your mouth, saliva wet and messy. he swallows your moans as he licks messily into your mouth, water splashing as his body squirms, begging to be closer to you as you thread your fingers through his hair.

“fuck, y/n-” he pants heavily in between wet messy kisses pressed to your lips as he rests his clammy forehead against yours.

“kiyoomi, i want you. but please,” you whimper as you stare into his depthless eyes. “please put the knife down. i promise i’ll be good.” sakusa doesn't look entirely convinced but you’re relieved when he finally puts it down on the bedside cabinet when he follows you into the bedroom. your body is brimming with adrenaline when he lies down along your bed, his skin glistening with dampness as you take a deep breath and edge towards him.

“this is all i’ve wanted, y/n. we could’ve had this so much easier if you had just listened. if you hadn't been so stupid.” he mutters almost mournfully as you slowly unbutton your shirt, letting the cotton fabric slip off your shoulders to reveal your chest clad in a pink bra. but sakusa doesn’t mind the simplicity of your underwear, even groaning at the sight of your panties hugging your cunt when you slip off your jeans. “come here.”

he pulls you onto his lap and you try not to flinch at the feeling of his half hard dick pressing against your pussy, only a thin layer of fabric separating you both. he’s hungry as he kisses you, one hand gripping your hair tight, the other groping your chest, your ass, stroking your hips, any skin he can grasp. you kiss back with fervour, your hands gripping his broad shoulders, hips rocking gently against him, swallowing his moans. you’re waiting, kissing, waiting for the perfect moment…then…

you bite. hard. sakusa swears when he pushes you away roughly, his face screwed with anger and disgust as red blood seeps from his lips. but you’re prepared, your clammy hand locking around the knife and you scream when you slash it towards him. panic bubbles in you and damn him, he’s quick- he’s rough when he shoves you back, a hand stretching out as protection against the knife. you aim desperately, every bit of anger and resentment and fear and hatred brewing in you surging through the screams and swears but you’re just too weak and the best you can get is a slash across his hand.

“you bitch!” he yells, voice deep and gruff and it terrifies you, the fire dancing in his eyes as he clutches his bloody palm, crimson oozing from porcelain skin.

but that’s bought you enough time and you rush away quickly, your bedroom door slamming behind you as you scramble downstairs. you’re frantic- kiyoomi’s screams and threats resonate through the house as you hear him storm upstairs into the bathroom and you’re trembling with fear- fuck why won’t your hands just work? you’re scrambling for the house keys- were they in the living room? your purse? in the tray of marbles?

“fuck fuck fuck-” you’re almost crying as you sweep your hand across the entire cabinet top, vases and candles smashing to the floor and marbles scattering across the entire floor but then you find them, those silver keys you grab, grateful for the sharp cool metal pressing into your skin as you run to the front door.

“i am going to kill you, you stupid bitch.” kiyoomi’s footsteps are heavy upstairs as you scramble to fit the keys into the lock, hands shaking as they just won’t seem to fit in and you’re sobbing, screaming at yourself to get out.

you can hear him across the landing, getting to the top of the stairs- the floorboards creak and you’ve only just got the locks open when the door swings open and-

relief floods you when you lock eyes with brown orbs and you’re a sobbing, shaking mess when you collapse into atsumu’s arms, clinging to him, gasping and clinging to his t-shirt as he holds you.

“he’s here- atsumu- he’s here- he’s going to kill me!” atsumu’s bewildered as he holds your face, wiping away the stream of tears and you’re exasperated at how he smiles, almost amused.

“what are you talking about, y/n?” he chuckles and you shake your head, gasping as you try to scramble away, run away into the darkness- anywhere, just not here.

“he’s here! we have to call the police.”

atsumu’s still smiling and suddenly his hold on you feels tighter. your heart feels like lead when sakusa’s footsteps reach the end step and he’s stood in the hallway, bloody hand gripping the knife, crimson running down his chin as he smiles, shirtless in just his joggers.

“miya atsumu.” his voice is a low drawl.

“atsumu!” you’re wailing with desperation, trying to fight out of the blond’s grip but he’s too strong, holding you tight against him as he continues to smile.

“relax, y/n- he won’t kill you. goodness, omi-kun- i told you i’d help you take her home, why did you start without me?”

#tw.stalking #tw.yandere #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagines #sakusa fic #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi fic #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #tw.kidnapping

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milaisreading · 2 years

Text

PART 1

Yandere!MSBY 4 x Kageyama Twin!Reader Side couple: Komori Motoya x Reader

Warnings: Yandere behavior, possessive and obsessive behavior. Manga spoilers. Takes place during the Nationals and post timeskip. Minors don't interact!!! I made the reader 176 cm tall here, btw.

Part 2:

"Woohooo! Nice kill,Suna-san!" (Y/n) cheered along with the crowd, trying to be as loud as possible. Due to her busy schedule with Uni, she didn't have a lot of free time to watch Raijin's games in real life, so when she did have those opportunities, she used them to the fullest. Suna and Komori, hearing her familiar voice, turned and sent her a grin, along with Watari, who just waved at her. 'Amazing... They already won the 1st set, and only 5 more points are needed to finish this one!' (Y/n) blushed in excitement as she kept watching her boyfriend's team, not noticing four pairs of eyes watching her every move.

Hinata was having a great day, he really was. He woke up feeling refreshed, went to train with the rest of the MSBY, and later on they drove to Shizuoka City for their match against one of their long time rival team.Everything was ok for the professional player, until he saw the youngest Kageyama walking down the hallway of the gymnasium.Now, Hinata did like and enjoy (Y/n)'s company, he has been in love with her since before they entered Karasuno. And the moment he saw her, he wanted to run up to the taller woman and hug her, confess the feelings he never had the chance to.

But what made him stop was nobody other than Komori run up to her, kissing her cheek as soon as he reached her side.Hinata would have found the display of affection cute, if it wasn't for the fact that it was between (Y/n) and that libero. The rage and bitterness was slowly taking over his body as he watched the unsuspecting couple.

The orange haired man was aware of them dating. Heck it all went down in their final year at Karasuno, and magazines in Japan and even some in Brasil were fawning over how cute they were, once they found this out.No matter what Hinata did, he couldn't escape it, and the sadness he felt over time became something dark. Something twisted...something nobody would dare to call love...well except for him and 3 of his other teammates.

He will forever remember the rage and betrayal he felt when he found out about them.

Hinata remembered the day he met (Y/n) very clearly. It was the day he made a long term frenemy with her brother. He remembered how kind and sweet she was to him when he promised Tobio he would defeat him on court. Hinata was flabbergasted when he found out the tall beauty was not only the king's twin, but also went to the same high school as he did. Ever since he joined the club as the middle blocker, and (Y/n) as their manager, he went above and beyond to prove how good he was. Which pissed her brother off at times, since Hinata would jump at random moments and not watch where the ball would fly. (Y/n) would of course try and calm them both down, so that they can focus back on either training or on a match.

It was during the Nationals in their 1st year that Hinata felt threatened. Sure, he did see other boys from their school and other schools try to approach (Y/n), but their advances were either ignored, or Tobio would shoo them away with a glare. But this time was different, not only did Tobio greet the newcomer so openly, but (Y/n) also was more talkative than she usually was with strangers. That day, Hinata came across the boy who would cause him so much pain and anguish for years to come.

"Hinata, maybe you should slow down with the food? Nobody will steal it from you, and your stomach will hurt." (Y/n) warned the shorter boy, who kept showing the onigiri into his mouth.

"I am really hungry and nervous! I can't help it! This match against Nekoma that is coming up is making me nervous." Hinata whined. (Y/n) smiled softly at the boy and patted his head, causing Hinata to smile at the affection he was receiving.

"You worry too much. Tobio, you and the rest of the team prepared for so long, there is no way you will lose. Believe in yourself a little more." (Y/n) said softly, shortly after returning back to her own food.

Hinata sighed, blushing brightly as he looked at (Y/n), who was concentrating on the Fukurodani match.

'So pretty...'

"Stop doing that." Kageyama commented as he pinched Hinata's cheek, to which the shorter cried out in pain.

"What was that for?!"

"You know exactly, Boke!"

"Bakayama not making sense, like always!"

"Keep it down you two! Everyone is looking!" (Y/n) shushed them, returning back to the match as the two boys sent each other side glances.

"Ahh Kageyama, I knew that was your voice I heard!" Komori said as he approached the trio.

"Yeah sorry, he can be an idiot at times." Tobio commented, pointing at Hinata.

"Hey!"

(Y/n) looked up at the brown aired boy, taken aback by his cute appearance.

"Oh! I am Komori Motoya, libero from the Itachiyama Institute!" The boy said cheerfully to Hinata and (Y/n).

"Komori-san was in the same youth camp like me." Tobio added as (Y/n) nodded her head.

"A libero? And you were at the youth camp, you must be among the best ones in the country then!" (Y/n) spoke up, Komori sending her a grin.

"Well I wouldn't say that, but I try my best. You are Kageyama's twin, (Y/n)? We heard about you from him."

"We?"

"Yeah, my cousin Sakusa, he is our ace, was with us during the camp."

"Oh I see... Wait, Sakusa Kiyoomi, the no 1 ace in the country?!"

Hinata watched with an empty look in his eyes as the duo chatted. This was the first time he witnessed (Y/n) be so open with a stranger, and that Tobio didn't say a word or even glare a the older boy.

Slowly but surely, he came to realize that a rival finally arrived, and it was in the form of this boy, who not even Tobio can dislike.

"You seem to really like this Komori guy." Hinata comments bitterly as Tobio shrugged his shoulders.

"Komori-san is a good guy. He is fine, in my opinion."

The basically direct approval made Hinata nervous, hoping that nothing big or important will come out of this small talk.

In his final Nationals game, Hinata felt on top of the world. They made it to the Nationals for a 3rd time and placed 3rd in the match. The orange haired boy felt like he could move a mountain.

"Hinata you were amazing as always! I am so proud of you 4!"

The said boy grinned brightly as he felt (Y/n)'s arms wrap around him.

"We wouldn't be here without your help, you know." Hinata spoke softly, hugging back, drowning in the scent (Y/n) carried.

'Now is my time...' The boy gulped, letting go of the girl. Over the years she got even more beautiful to him, and he wasn't sure how to speak for a moment.

"Hey uh...(Y/n)..."

"Yes?" She asked.

"You know how we are graduating all in a few months and...well I wanted to say... that...I am-"

Just as Hinata was about to confess, Tobio's voice interrupted him.

"(Y/n), Komori-san is here." Kageyama said boredly from behind Hinata. Quickly looking up, (Y/n) grinned as she saw the older boy approaching them.

"Sorry Hinata, just a second." She said and left the boy's side.

In horror, orange haired boy watched as (Y/n) jumped into the libero's arms, kissing him on the cheek.

"Woah! Well that's one way to be greeted." Komori joked as Hinata, along with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi watched their exchange.

"The two are dating?" The tallest of the three wondered, turning to look at Kageyama.

"Yeah, since summer or so."

"Since summer?!"

While the three were talking, Hinata kept silent, watching as the girl he loved, heck even worshiped was laughing in another guy's arms. His heart broke on that day, but his sanity was in for a long ride.

Since then, Hinata tried, he really did, to get over his feelings for the younger twin. He made sure to work on his volleyball skill, left for Brasil to learn and became a better player. And he thought he got over her, he thought he could be happy for his friend. It was selfish for him to think she dated Komori to hurt his feelings, since he was never clear with them. But, he just couldn't, (Y/n) was the one he loved, wanted and needed. And during his flight back to Japan, he made a promise to himself. He will do anything in his power to get his (Y/n) back. Hinata was more than willing to share with his other 3 teammates, they loved her equally and would keep her safe.

Hinata clenched his fists as he watched Komori and (Y/n) kiss, and Suna tease them both.

'(Y/n)...it should have been me who you said that to...Not HIM!'

Now Bokuto wasn't a smart person when it came to love. His intelligence when it came to studying was average, his game sense was top notch, his social skills were on par with Hinata and Atsumu, but love... that wasn't smth on his plan.

Well, or so he thought till his 3rd year at Fukurodani. Not only did he meet the Karasuno team, people he considered today as close friends or rivals on court, but also her.

(Y/n) was pretty shy back then, and stayed mostly around her brother, Kiyoko, Hinata or Tsukishima, basically anyone from her team... well, she was pretty close to Kenma, but that's besides the point.

In short, Bokuto saw her as a potentially good friend at the time, and he would try to get a few conversations out of her, ignoring the other Kageyama's glares at times.

And the few conversations he had with her were nice, great even. Not only was she nice, but her game and strategy senses were beyond what he would expect from a high school manager. And the more time passed, the more he grew interested. His heart would beat faster, his breath grew shallower and his hands shaking when he felt her watch his games during the Nationals. It was this way even during the qualifications, because he knew she would be watching this game on her TV, she was making Karasuno's strategies, and it was only normal for her to watch the possible rivals. Later on, his sister told him what he felt was love and gave him some advices on how to handle his emotions and confess.

Bokuto listened carefully, and over the years tried to come up with the perfect confession strategy. And just when he built up the needed courage,it all crashed when he saw the haunting scene playing out in front of him.

It all happened during Karasuno's last game at the Nationals, when they placed 3rd with Yamaguchi as their captain. Bokuto was impressed with his skills and how much he grew from the 1st year, as well as the other four. He would grin whenever (Y/n) would yell some encouraging words or warnings at the boys. He loved seeing how well she took care of the younger ones in the team, watching as she calmed some down over the loss. The rest, were more than happy with the results of their hard work.

As everyone was leaving or going to congratulate the players, Bokuto gripped onto the flowers he got for (Y/n). He decided to be nonchalant in his approach, after all, they weren't strangers to each other.

But the college student stopped in his tracks as he watched (Y/n), the girl of his dreams, run into the arms of the familiar Itachiyama libero.

In horror, Bokuto saw how she kissed him on the cheek, saw the love he held for her and overall, the strong relationship they shared.

Bokuto wasn't stupid, he knew what was going on, but he couldn't help his thoughts.

'What is going on?'

Slowly, he turned around and left.

Throwing the flowers into the garbage, he walked home. Ignoring his sister's questioning, Bokuto went into his room and finally let all the tears,he held back fall.

That night, something inside of Bokuto switched, the thought of (Y/n) being with someone caused anger and resentment in his heart. Every time Bokuto saw anything remotely about the couple in the magazines, he would rip those pages apart.

Hurt, anger, envy and his love for the younger girl clouding his mind.

And now,with a successful career as a athlete, with all the money, fame and fans, Bokuto felt like the helpless and heartbroken boy all those years ago as he watched Komori run up to (Y/n) after the last point was made.

Bokuto held his tears back, keeping a neutral as possible way as he watched the (h/c) woman kiss the man.

'Why him? Of all men, why did it have to be him?' Bokuto clenched his fists, opting to follow Meian as he solemnly told them to go and change, clearly upset with the loss of the game.

Atsumu wouldn't consider himself as a jealous person. Competitive? He sure was. With his twin, which was their thing since forever, with rival players during Junior High, and with his newest addition being Kageyama Tobio.

But now, now he for sure can say the gnawing feeling in his chest, and it took everything in him to not go where Komori and (Y/n) were standing, take her in his arms and show the brown haired man who she belonged to. Who could treat her right. And that was him, Atsumu Miya. One of Japan's top athletes.

It was during the time he was supposed to serve. Before that, everyone witnessed the ace of Karasuno being booed by Inarizaki's crowd, causing him to mess up and losing the point.

(Y/n) didn't initially say anything, seeing as the crowd from Karasuno and Kiyoko kept quiet, and she only heard Ukai and Takeda comment about the ordeal.

'They do that to EVERY team?! How is that fair? And Asahi-san looks genuinely upset over this too...' (Y/n) thought, sending a thumbs up at the ace, hoping he won't beat himself up over this.

The girl kept quiet tho, she didn't know how to even respond to this, and her shyness held her back from standing out from the crowd.

But what broke the camel's back, was when it was the Atsumu's turn to serve.

She watched in confusion as he held his fist up, and the whole crowd from Inarizaki grew quiet.

"They shut up?" (Y/n) questioned, catching Ukai's attention.

"Yeah, I heard of this anomaly from them. They will boo the opponents, but will be quiet as a mouse when it's their team's turn. Something about them needing to concentrate." Ukai explained, causing rage to grow in the girl as she watched the setter score a point.

The same was about to repeat itself, but (Y/n) wasn't going to let that happen. They all, especially the boys worked too hard to get here, and she won't let foul play stop their journey at the 2nd match.

Taking a deep breath, and with adrenaline pumping high, (Y/n) got up from her seat, causing Kiyoko to look up in surprise.

"(Y/n)-"

"WHAT SORT OF FAVORITISM IS THIS?!"

Kiyoko jumped up, just like Takeda, to calm the girl down, but Ukai stopped them both from doing so.

Karasuno looked at their usually quiet manager in shock, never seeing her raise her voice before or glare.

Tobio looked at his twin, then at Inarizaki, being on the lookout if something happens.

Atsumu stopped in his tracks, sending a dirty look towards the girl as she interrupted him.

"(Y/n), calm down-"

"I will not calm down! Otherwise they will treat you guys this way for the rest of the game!" The younger interrupted Daichi, glaring at the referees.

"This can't be called fairness in any way! They are booing our players and causing them to mess up! Who can possibly concentrate when all the cheers are drowned out by them?! Inarizaki is not in any shape of form above us on this court for you to let this slide!"

Taking a deep breath, (Y/n) turned to look at her team, face red, but the same angry look in her eyes was present, scaring the team a little.

"And you guys better get it together! I know we are all nervous, but you all trained for too long to let some cowards run this show! You played against Ushijima of all people, so get it together! You can do just as good against Mustard hair and Co!Please, Karasuno has your back... right?" (Y/n) finished, sounding a little softer as she turned to look at the cheer squad.

Ukai looked af his friends, who quickly got out of their shocked state, and nodded their heads fast.

"OF COURE! WE ALL GOT YOUR BACKS!"

"DON'T LET THEM FASE YOU GUYS! WE KNOW YOU CAN DO IT!!"

(Y/n) smiled thankfully at the two men, then looked back at the court, sending a thumbs up and nervous smile at her team.

"You got this. Show them what Karasuno is made of."

Daichi's shocked expression softened and he nodded his head, turning back to his teammates.

"Alright. Let's do this,swift!"

"Sure thing, Daichi-san!"

"Oi Boke, stop making googly eyes at my sister and focus on the game." Tobio commented, causing the orange haired boy to look away from the flustered twin, and glare at the setter.

"Shut! I wasn't! Let's finish this and move on to the next game!"

"Are you doing alright? Your face is quite red." Sugawara asked, giving the girl a unused water bottle. (Y/n) took it and nodded her head, the realization of what just happened finally hit her.

"Y-yeah... I don't know what came over me to be honest."

"Well whatever it was, it sure helped us. The boys seem more determinated now." Ukai commented with a satisfied smile as the game resumed, with Karasuno's cheer squad now louder than ever.

"Good job, (Y/n)! But now let's sit down and watch the game." Kiyoko said, guiding the girl to the bench.

"Yes! This will all end well, I trust them to win." (Y/n) cheered smiling as she watched Tanaka score a point.

The whole time, as she cheered and assisted Kiyoko during breaks, Atsumu kept glaring at her.

'Stupid squealing pig, not only did I mess up my serve, but now Karasuno won't stop cheering when we serve...'

Atsumu took a sip from his water bottle, and looked over at Osamu and Suna, who were chit-chating quietly.

"What are you two planning now?" Kita questioned.

"You know... Karasuno's manager had a point."

"Which is?" Omimi asked, Aran already knowing what this might be about.

"Tsumu's hair looks like mustard. Not even the good quality one at that."

"SAMU YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Atsumu yelled as the third years tried to stop the fight.

"What is going on over there?" (Y/n) rose an eyebrow as she handed Hinata his water bottle.

"Who know..."

The game ended with Karasuno taking the win, everyone cheered loudly in happiness and relief. The game was tiring for everyone, and seeing it end was sweet for some and saddening for the others.

"What?" Tobio grumbled as he noticed Atsumu glaring at him, clearly disappointed with the outcome.

"Ya know, I honestly underestimated you, scrub. Thought you were some goody-two shoes, but you are up for dirty tactics."

"What is he even talking about?" Hinata questioned, confused with the whole interaction.

"Doesn't matter, but Shoyo-kun." The orange haired boy looked up at the loud blonde.

"One day, I will be the one setting for you, but until then, I will defeat you at the Interhigh and make sure to outdo you in your own tricks."

Atsumu was about to turn around and leave, only for Hinata's question to stop him.

"How is he going to do that, when (Y/n) came up with those?"

"Hm? Who?" Atsumu questioned, causing the two boys to look at him.

"(Y/n), she is our manager and mostly works with the two of us-"

"Tobio! Hinata! You two were amazing!"

Hinata's explaining got interrupted by the said girl cheering and jumping to hug them both, causing them nearly to fall over.

Atsumu looked at the scene in front of him, glaring harder as he noticed it was the same girl who yelled at him during his serve.

"I am so proud of you two! That was amazing, especially the final point!"

(Y/n) cheered as she let go of the two. Hinata blushed a little from all the praise, but kept his cool. Tobio, seeing how silent Atsumu was, turned to look at him.

"Is there something else you wanted?"

Atsumu snorted and shook his head. The other two looked at him now as well, wondering what he wanted to say.

"No. Just mark my words, during the next match, I will make sure you regret for underestimating my team."

Atsumu pointed at (Y/n), before he eventually turned around and left.

"He is weird..."

(Y/n) said, holding Hinata back, who tried to attack Atsumu over pointing at her.

"Weird, yes. But an awfully good player."

Her twin said back.

A year later, at the Nationals the story was a little different. Atsumu kept on grinning as he watched the defeated Karasuno team packing. He felt elated, nearly satisfied with showing Tobio and Shoyo who the better setter, the better team was.

But his satisfaction wasn't to the fullest without seeing the loud mouthed manager crying.

"Atsumu, where are you going?" Ginjima asked as he watched the captain walk towards the exit door.

"I need to use the bathroom." He simply answered.

"More like going off to see if the Karasuno manager from last year is upset." Osamu commented as Suna snickers.

"Still holding a grudge? You are pretty childish, Atsumu."

"Shut up! You won't understand!"

The trio watched the blonde walk off, a little concerned over the younger girl.

"Atsumu seems... a little obsessed with her, don't you think?"

Ginjima wondered, looking over at Osamu.

"More like seeing her upset above anything. He just won't shut up."

'Where is that squealing nonsense-'

"Yeah, the game was quite tense and really everyone was playing well...No, we are leaving tomorrow, Ukai-sensei said we will have dinner tonight and leave tomorrow during noon. Yeah, we asked to watch Nekoma's match before leaving." Atsumu grinned as he heard the girl talk behind the corner.

He waited behind the wall, hoping to hear her cry or whimper during the phone call.

"Hmm? Our opponents were from Inarizaki tonight, man they came a lot stronger this year. Guess the loss last year hurt their ego a little." (Y/n) chuckled.

'Why...why is she joking and not crying?!'

"Huh? I am a little bit upset, but nothing major. In volleyball you win or lose, and that's fine. Besides, I was pretty impressed with how well the Inarizaki team played this year, it was nice seeing them not relay on their cheer squad..."

Atsumu had about enough at that point, ready to make his presence clear and yell at her.

"Their twins tho...they were quite something. Yeah, the gray haired Miya had some nice strikes, and as much as that blonde one annoys me, I have to admit he is a good player. I can see why he is one of the best setters in the nation."

Atsumu stopped in his tracks and looked at the girl in shock, face slowly turning red from her words. Well, more like how she was saying it, with absolutely no malice or envy. Just pure honesty.

"Yeah I will tell Tobio that, see ya tomorrow!"

The blonde shook his head as (Y/n) walked back to the court, but stopped when she noticed Atsumu standing in front of her.

"Did you need something?" The girl wondered. When she didn't get an answer, she shrugged her shoulders, walking off to her destination,only to be interrupted by Atsumu.

"You aren't upset? On the verge of crying? Your team lost."

"Hmmm... I am upset, but not to that extent. Besides, volleyball is meant to be enjoyed, at leat to me. You take this too seriously, and it doesn't seem healthy for you. There is more to the game, ya know!" (Y/n) said, looking at the older in boredom for one last time, before going back to her previous attempts to get back to her team.

Atsumu watched her silently as his face grew warmer and warmer. The indifference when she talked about the loss was disappointing, but also... refreshing?

He was used to seeing his opponents pissed, distraught or straight up crying, this was something new. Something he was willing to change.

Atsumu wanted to see her...break, be distraught and look at him in awe while crying.

He liked that thought, but for now he will have to work harder for that to happen.

Atsumu smirked and took his phone out, looking at some of the pictures he made Suna find for him.

'Just like that Goody-two shoes of her brother...absolutely no social media or posts. Well, better for me. At least I know that no unknown guys can see her.'

Atsumu wasn't jealous in the past, but now... ever since Suna told him (Y/n) was dating Komori, jealousy was his closest friend. He waited, hoped that the libero would slip up eventually, look at a woman long enough for paparazzi to see, but nothing. The man was fully loyal and devoted to (Y/n), and the she to him. It pissed him off, but also made him fawn over how cute she is by playing the loyal girlfriend.

'I will find a way to break you two up. No relationship is perfect and then... then she will be all mine. As it should have been a long time ago.'

Sakusa wasn't much of a people person, well for loud people like Atsumu and Bokuto maybe, but he did have his fair share of friends, his cousin Komori being one of them.

Love wasn't something he was looking for, nor was he interested in it much. He had volleyball and his studies, and that was enough for him.

Well, until his 2nd year at the Nationals.

He heard of (Y/n) from her brother at the youth camp, thanks to Komori's shenanigans.

Back then he didn't know that the same exact girl would cause him so many sleepless nights and resentment for someone.

Sakusa thought over the past as he glared at his cousinp, who was chatting away with with Suna over God knows what.

'He should be with (Y/n)...protect her and make sure she doesn't get sick. What kind of a boyfriend is he?'

Sakusa's stone cold eyes then turned to gaze at (Y/n), who was talking with a woman he came to know as her older sister. Probably decided to accompany her, he guessed.

His first impression of Tobio wasn't much, a very skilled player who seemed to mostly mind his business. Nothing unusual or special. He wanted to know just one thing, and that was how a no name school like Karasuno, won against Ushijima.

But he could sadly not get a word of interest out of the raven haired boy, only that Ushijima was on top of his game that day, and so was Karasuno.

Komori, being a little uncomfortable with the situation his cousin caused, jumped in and defused the situation.

Sakusa honestly would have gladly stayed away from the setter after, but Komori wasn't having the same idea.

So now he was forced to eat lunch with Komori, Tobio and Chigaya, a middle blocker from Shinzen.

While him and Tobio stayed quiet for the most part, Chigaya and Komori kept on talking about anything that came to their minds.

"Kageyama, you have been a lot on your phone. A secret lover or something?" Komori teased, causing the said boy to quickly look up from his device.

"Huh? I didn't know you were dating." Chigaya commented, surprised by Komori's words, meanwhile Sakusa kept quiet as he ate his lunch.

"No...this is just my sister texting me. She usually does that when going home alone."

"Ah (Y/n)? How is she doing? I am surprised they didn't invite her as a manager."

Chigaya commented, remembering the younger twin from the Tokyo training camp.

"Sister?" Komori wondered as Sakusa looked over at the two.

"Yeah, she is my younger twin and one of Karasuno's managers. I need to call her, sorry." Tobio quickly got up from his seat and went to the hallway.

"I didn't take Kageyama to have a twin, he seems kind of a loner." Komori commented.

"Really? Didn't look like that back with Karasuno. But yeah, she is also really nice, helped out our manager as often as she could. But is pretty quiet." Chigaya said, recalling the memory of the girl.

"So pretty much a copy of Kageyama, except the nice part." Sakusa suddenly said, surprising the libero and middle blocker.

"Well... I guess. The two are both passionate about volleyball, I can say that. While he is more involved in the play on court, (Y/n) manages the tactics and tricks to confuse the other players. As far as I can remember,she came up with some of the tactics used on the court with Shiratorizawa."

That part caught Sakusa's attention, thinking that maybe he is finally on the right track on figuring out what made Karasuno so resilient against the elite school.

'I will have to watch some of their other matches...seems like there was a miracle force from outside, working for them.'

Sakusa thought, watching Kageyama approach their table.

"Ahh...I made a mistake of calling Kageyama over..." Komori commented as he watches his cousin glare at the said setter.

With all the teams arriving at Tokyo's Metropolitan Gymnasium,he did expect Kageyama to show up sooner or later, but not when Sakusa was already in a foul mood.

"Tobio, we need to go. Daichi-san will get upset if we make them wait for too long."

A girl's voice was heard from behind the libero, and he turned around to look at a fairly tall girl, clad in Karasuno's black tracksuit.

Komori blushed a little, finding the girl quite cute, not noticing

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry (Y/n)." Tobio sounded, turning to look at his sister, who looked nervous with Komori's and now Sakusa's staring as well.

"Well anyways, good luck with your games today."

Tobio said his goodbye and followed his sister to where the rest of Karasuno were.

Sakusa kept looking at (Y/n) retreating figure, his heart beating a little faster than usually.

'So that's the person behind all of those tricks...' The black haired boy thought, then turning his attention to Komori.

The boy, to Sakusa's surprise and disdain, kept on looking at (Y/n)'s figure with a red face.

"What's with that look?"The ace grumbled.

"Kiyoomi...she is beautiful."

'She sure is...' Sakusa thought as he shrugged his shoulders, not liking the way his libero cousin talked about her.

'I need to know more about her!'

And a sure lot he did find out thanks to some of his connections with Fukurodani and Nekoma. The more he found out about her, the more some type of weird and unhealthy love grew in his heart.

Sakusa would do his best to attend as many games Karasuno had after the Nationals. Watchin (Y/n) grow from a shy girl who barely spoke, unless spoken to, into a girl not afraid to speak her mind when needed. While he was displeased with all the boys giving her attention, especially the orange haired boy, he will deal with it soon enough.

Sakusa had already a whole plan set, first he would get to know her, become friends, and he will slowly start isolating her from everyone. Then she will be his, and his only. But one thing he didn't take into account, was her getting close to Komori during the Nationals in their 3rd year, exchanging phone numbers when he wasn't paying attention. And with them both seeing each other less, he was less aware of the little meetings they would have, where Komori would either travel to Miyagi,or (Y/n) to Tokyo.

It was during the last match Karasuno had with his former school. They became a lot stronger, and placed 3rd this year. And while everyone was cheering for the players, Sakusa was watching (Y/n) congratulate her friends and calming the two younger managers down.

It was cute, she reminded him lot of a mother.

'How may kids could we have...maybe 5? That sounds like a good number, she will be so cute carrying my kids.' Sakusa sighed.

Komori looked over at his cousin, and with a heavy heart finally spoke up.

"You like (Y/n), don't you?"

The black haired college student jumped up at the statement and looked at his cousin, not saying a single word.

"Thought so..." Komori grumbled as Sakusa rolled his eyes.

"And if I am? What does it mean to you?"

There was a pregnant pause, and Sakusa stared at his cousin, who was clenching his fists,before he slowly looked up. And the look in Komori's eyes said everything he needed to know.

"Motoya-"

"(Y/n)...she and I have been going out for the past 6 months. And I am serious about her, I want to spend the rest of my life with this girl."

Sakusa felt his world shatter as he listened to Komori's words. His sweet, beautiful (Y/n)... going out with a germ like Komori?! He saw red, but kept his calm.

Komori got up as the people slowly walked away from the area, nobody paying much attention to them.

"With this, I am not asking for your forgiveness or anything, just... Have some respect and move on. One day, you will find someone who will love you...but (Y/n) is mine, got it?"

Sakusa clenched his fists as he finally spoke up.

"Why...why (Y/n)? You couldn't have picked anyone else?"

"I didn't realize your feelings for her till a month or two ago. The way you would bring her up from time to time and... the look you had on your face when she would show up for a second on the TV..." Komori sighed and looked down at (Y/n) again, his glare turning into a soft smile.

"I can understand why you like her, who wouldn't, but it has to stop. I want to bring her over to meet aunt and uncle one day. She is my dream girl."

Komori finished his speech and walked down the stairs to where (Y/n) was.

Sakusa, heartbroken and enraged watched as (Y/n) jumped into the Itachiyama alumni's arms, kissing him on the cheek.

Punching the seat in front of him, the black haired boy got up and walked into the closest washroom.

Since that day, Sakusa was just counting the days a slip up or a crack in the relationship would show, but nothing of those sorts happened. Eventually, Komori introduced (Y/n) to his and Sakusa's parents, the day that happened was his darkest one. She looked so angelic and... ethereal really, Sakusa wanted to yell how much he loved her and how much he deserved to be with her, but he needed to keep his calm. He needed to earn (Y/n)'s trust, because one day something might come up, and he will be there to hold her.

'Motoya...' Sakusa growled as all four glared at his form leading (Y/n) away from them.

"What's so special about your cousin,Omi? What could he possibly have that I don't?" Atsumu growled as they waited for their team to change.

Sakusa shrugged his shoulders, not having an answer either. There was nothing special about Motoya! Sure, he was a professional athlete, but so was he! A even better and more recognized one, so how (Y/n) could pick his annoying cousin was beyond him.

Bokuto kept quiet, the sight of (Y/n) and the libero kissing just killed his already bad mood, and now he just wanted to sit somewhere and cry.

"We need to do something!" Hinata spoke up, all the pent up jealousy, anger and lovesickness, that he built up over the years was killing him.

"And what would that be?" Sakusa wondered.

"Anything! Listen, there is no say if Komori will propose to (Y/n), all those gossip magazines and be himself keep hinting to it! We need to make him loom bad in (Y/n)'s eyes or else..."

Hinata shuddered at the thought of the love of his life marrying someone else.

Atsumu got up from the bench, smirking as an idea finally hit him.

"And I have the perfect plan. Omi, you and your cousin will have a nice long night out." Atsumu giggled as Sakusa looked at the setter in worry, but at this point he'd do anything to break those two up.

Tag list(Idk, it's the people who liked the previous post. If anyone else wants to be added,pls telle me):

@kei-tsuki21 @thebrunetteavenger @sicklyinlove @kittykatiekat @torriblack97 @locogvrl

Thanks for reading,part 2 will be up in a few days! Have a great day/night!

#yandere haikyuu #yandere hq #yandere msby #yandere sakusa x reader #yandere atsumu #yandere bokuto #yandere hinata #yandere shoyo #sakusa kiyoomi #atsumu miya #bokuto koutarou #hinata shoyo #haikyuu kageyama #komori motoya #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu dark content #yandere

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