Chaoticcoffeeewitch - Born In The Wrong Universe

sibling quarrel~

👾|| Soleil ||👾

More outfits for Soleil :D

love makes you crazy, if it doesn't you ain't doing it right

— Miya Atsumu × Reader

— cw: NSFW (minors dni)

p.s: what MSBY Jackals should come next? 👀

Atsumu thinks his costume it's hilariously clever, and actually pauses to chuckle to himself before they can ring the doorbell.

Osamu is not only already tired, but still unimpressed.

"I still think it's a bad idea" he says, and Atsumu looks at him with a raised eyebrow and fangs glinting in the moonlight "And ya put too much of that glitter thing on them"

"On my fangs?"

"Yes, on yer fangs. Ya look ridiculous. They look fake as fuck"

Atsumu snorts and rings the doorbell again, hoping that this time someone hears it over the loud music "That's the point 'Samu. What? Ya want people figuring out that they're not real?"

"If ya don't want people to find out then ya shouldn't have dressed like that in the first place"

Coming to this party was a huge mistake from the beginning, of course Osamu knew that. Reuniting with old friends from high school isn't always the best. Sometimes, it's just best to keep the memories and move on. Some people don't really change for the better.

They were still in touch with the people that mattered anyway— the whole volleyball team and a couple of friends from classroom.

He didn't had any reasons to be here.

But he knew Atsumu did.

"Oh, hey guys!" an overly cheerful fairy with scarce clothes and purpurine makeup greets them when the door finally opens, and the first thing Atsumu does is flashing his fangs at her. "Ohhhh... those look dangerous!" she says, half a giggle and half a surprised gasp, and then turns to look at Osamu "And what are you supposed to be?"

"I'm an onigiri" he deadpans.

The girl looks at him from head to toe, from his completely white attire of both shirt and pants, to the black bell around his waist. She awkwardly laughs "I see! I think I get it?"

"Don't ya worry. I don't get it either" Atsumu reassures her, and she smiles and makes room for them to come inside.

They wait, as always.

"Come on in guys!" she finally screams, and they both enter the house "Everyone! The Miya Twins are here!"

You jump and check yourself on the screen of your phone, completely ignoring whatever your friend was telling you. Your mascara is fine but could use some work, and your lipstick is definitely gone by now.

Of course it is. It's only 11pm and you've already had three full cups of beer. If you would have known that your high school and probably only crush was coming, you wouldn't have worked so hard to be tipsy by now.

"Oh my god I think I'm drunk" you whisper at your friend, putting your phone down and grabbing her by the arm "I'm drunk and Miya Atsumu is here. Why is life so unfair?"

Your friend looks around for a bit, until you assume she spots the man in question, while you distract yourself by searching inside your purse for that lipstick that said it could last up until twenty four hours, but turned out to be even a bigger liar than your ex.

"Girl, you're not drunk. You're just tipsy. Tipsy is good"

You scoff and finally find the lipstick bar. "Tipsy is good" you mock "Don't you know me at all? I have trouble having a normal conversation when I'm sober, imagine me talking to the guy I like while tipsy"

Your crush in Atsumu had started like any regular high school crush in a bad teen movie. You had seen him around the gym, focused and completely absorbed in the game— acting already like a pro when he had just gotten admitted in the team, and you had instantly known that your world would revolve around him for the rest of your high school life.

For your own credit tho, by the end of your third year, you already liked Atsumu for much more than those incredible thighs you kept fantasising about and his good hair. He was passionate, hard working, very funny and laid back, and actually had a nice relationship with his brother and teammates.

That's exactly what you had written down in the letter you never sent to him and forever kept in one of your drawers— without his address, mind you. No one could be THAT stupid—, because you didn't really saw the point anymore. High school was over, you two were going separate ways, and you were nothing more than one of the many fans he shushed during his serves.

"Okay" you say, taking some deep breaths to stabilize yourself "I'm going to run to the bathroom real quick to put on some makeup for the guy that I'm going to try to avoid all night, all right? Just wait here for me"

Your friend has the audacity to snicker "Yeah, I don't really know about that. He's already coming this way"

"What?"

Atsumu spots you instantly. He knows exactly how you look, after searching around for you on Instagram all night. It's not like you've changed much since high school either.

He comes close to you and greets your friend first, Osamu trailing behind him and complaining about the music. You have your back to him, clad in a white long dress and with your hair up in an elaborate bun, and boy does Atsumu loves the shape of your neck.

"Hey! What're ya two ladies upto?" he asks, stopping beside you.

"We were just talking. Right?" your friend answers, and you look at her from under your lashes, before slowly turning to him and give him a tiny smile.

And god, there it is.

Your smell.

Atsumu closes his eyes just for a second, breathing in your scent and letting it flow through his veins, and doesn't even realizes he's been licking his fangs until your friend gasps.

"Those are some pretty impressive fangs you have there!" she says, and the sudden taste of plastic in his mouth has Atsumu figuring out that he licked the sparkly stuff clean.

Osamu elbows him. Hard.

"Yeah, yeah" he says, trying to sound casual. "They're real alright. Don't ya know? 'Samu and I are vampires" his brother goes to step on him, but he takes that chance to come even closer to you.

He has the sudden urge to burrow his nose on your hair.

"Actually!" he continues, still trying to play along and already completely drunk on you "All the guys on the team are!"

Osamu looks ready to rip him a new one. Your friend laughs and smacks him on the chest. You're just looking at him curiously.

"Don't tell me all the MSBY Jackals are of your kind!" your friend says, bringing a hand to cover her mouth in feigned horror "Whatever would happen if word got to the press?"

"Yeah" Osamu drawls "Wonder that too"

Your friend looks at him then, head cocked to the side. "Wait— are you a vampire too?"

Atsumu laughs and shoves him a bit "Nah. He's just a regular onigiri"

"Alright! Ahm... I think I'm going to go to the bathroom now" you announce all of the sudden, and exchange a look with your friend that he doesn't really get, before hurrying past him and disappearing into the crowd.

He wishes those mind reading myths about vampires were true. Most of them never are.

Atsumu had met you in high school, one fateful rainy day where you had forgotten your umbrella.

Just like in a bad teen movie.

You had been waiting for a long time for the clouds to part and for the sun to come out again, and he had just finished practice when he saw you— your back to him, looking at the dark sky.

Both Osamu and him had offered you to accompany you then, sharing two umbrellas between the three of you. You were nervous, but grateful, and Atsumu had spent the whole way home purposely brushing his shoulder against yours.

You were warm, and smelled like rain and summer.

By the time you turned around to thank them, one feet inside your house and your hand on the door, Atsumu had already memorized the curve of your lips.

He wanted to bite them.

His father had told him once, when both he and Osamu were only kids, that vampires loved differently.

Six years later and still infatuated with you, Atsumu finally thinks he knows what that meant.

"I'm sorry" your friend says "It's her makeup. It has to be perfect, since she came as..."

"A victorian lady, yeah" Atsumu finishes up for her, and Osamu looks at him weirdly.

"Yer kidding, aren't ya? Ya get her costume but don't get mine? She's just wearing some long dress" complains Osamu, but Atsumu it's not paying attention to him anymore.

"Hey" he says, deciding not to waste much more time. He's waited six years already. "Do ya mind staying here with my brother? I'll be right back"

He doesn't waits for an answer before following behind you.

The lighting in the bathroom is horrible. You look like a ghost when you're finally able to make your red lipstick look presentable, and the flickering light starts to make you doubt about wearing a white dress like the one you decided on.

You hope Atsumu realized you were just going as a victorian lady, and not some creepy tortured ghost.

Even if they both can be kind of the same.

The door opens a fraction when you're finally trying to gather some courage to come out, and Atsumu head appears out of nowhere in your field of vision.

A scream dies in your throat.

"This is the ladies room" you say, and mentally facepalm yourself.

Atsumu only chuckles, taking two steps inside and closing the door behind him. "I'm pretty sure there's only one bathroom for everyone"

"Oh" you say, feeling your hands start to sweat "Didn't knew that... I guess"

Atsumu takes another step towards you, and you falter. "Nervous?"

"Just... ahm..." you can only gesture around, looking at the floor and completely avoiding his piercing gaze "This is all new to me"

"Yeah, we were never trapped in a bathroom together before"

You gulp and your gaze snaps back to him, while slowly starting to walk backwards "Trapped? We're trapped?"

"I just locked the door, so I guess that yeah, we are"

You don't really know how to feel about that, but your body reacts way more quickly than your brain does.

Your panties are soaking wet by the time your back hits the wall.

Atsumu soon haves both of his hands resting at either side of your head, and you can feel him vibrating with poorly conceived restrain. You swallow around the ball of nerves on your throat.

"Atsumu?" you ask, only a whisper, and your eyes follow his tongue when he wets his lips and then his extremely long fangs.

"God, ya don't know how long I've wanted to fuck ya"

He kisses you with such force that you think you would fall, if the wall wasn't right behind you— and you can't do anything but hold onto him while he ravishes your mouth. A single flick of his tongue against you and you're already a broken mess of moans.

And then his lips find your neck, and one of his fangs grazes your throbbing vein, and your body moves on its own— pressing against him.

He laughs, and the sound goes straight between your legs.

"You've been driving me crazy since we were in high school" he whispers, playfully biting your earlobe "I've waited all this years to finally have ya like this, darlin'" another bite, this time behind your ear. You close your eyes and grab his shoulders "Do ya want me?"

"I do"

"Say it again, come on" he asks, and you can feel his cock pressing insistently against you "Come on, darlin'. Tell me you've wanted this for as long as I've had"

"Yes!" you finally scream, grinding against him to ease the ache in your center "Yes, please. I want to be with you. Please"

He grabs you with surprising ease, both of his hands cupping your ass while you hang onto his shoulders for dear life. He hasn't set you down on the counter yet and he's already kissing you once more, teeth and tongues battling for dominance. You gasp for air when he tears the front of your dress open just to latch his mouth over one of your nipples, and your legs automatically snake around him, trembling.

He sucks and bites and leaves a trail behind him, and all your lipstick is gone again, staining his chin and his bottom lip.

He looks gorgeous, and you think you might have said it at loud, because he stops to look at you, all movement gone.

Atsumu looks very dangerous— you find— under the light of the single yellowed lightbulb.

"I was going to take my time on ya" he says slowly, a hand sneaking under your dress to grab your underwear "But I don't really think I can do that anymore"

You can see both of his fangs when he smiles next.

"I'm going to devour ya"

Your head lolls forward when he starts to press inside you, and Atsumu closes his eyes and snarls because the feeling of you — so wet, so tight, so made to fit his cock just the right way— around him it's enough to drive him crazy. His eyes drift open when you start chanting his name, your sweet voice in his ear while he stretches you.

His breath is ragged by the time his hips are flush against your skin. His fangs are tingling, and there's a feeling of euphoria building inside him that only wants him to sink his teeth in your sweat beaded neck and make you his forever.

"We don't just feel love, Atsumu" his father had said to him "We let it consume us"

His are frenzied thrust, with his eyes darting back and forth between your lips and your tits, his love bites like angry tattoos around your niples.

Atsumu is grinning. A wild, almost manic grin when he kisses you to swallow your moans, and one of his hands snakes between your bodies to pinch your clit.

You break the contact to let out a long moan, and your eyes open to find him looking at you with some unreadable emotion that you wonder if you mirror too, after all those years crushing so hard on him.

And then the bad light of the bulb catches on his fangs and an idea comes to your head just at the same time he angles his hips just enough to make you see starts.

"Bite me" you ask him, in a desperate and needy voice that doesn't really sounds like it belongs to you "Bite me, Atsumu. Please"

Atsumu's thrusts become even more ferocious.

"Ya don't know what yer saying, darlin'" he tells you, both of his hands grabbing your ass with such a force that you're sure will leave angry red imprints for the rest of the night "Ya don't know— fuck yeah, so good— ya don't know what yer asking me"

You whine, and the sound makes his cock jump "I do know. I know. Please. Bite me" and then the force of one of his thrusts makes you arch your back and present your neck to him, glistening with sweat "Please just make me yours"

He snaps.

He forgets the words of advice from Osamu, always warning him not to get too attached. He forgets that you're both in a bathroom and that he should probably invite you to dinner before actually asking you with all the words, if you want him to bite you and make you his forever.

Atsumu forgets about anything other than the feeling of you around him, and leans down to bite your neck.

Hard.

You scream, and then you come.

The pleasure it's like an inferno—  white-hot and incandescent— burning through you as if it wants to consume you, turning you into something different. A sharp cry escapes your lips and you can’t do anything but hold onto him and murmur his name and come, come, come, feeling something warm slide down your throat and staining your dress while Atsumu empties himself inside you— his cock twitching, and the last sparks of pleasure spreading through you like fireworks underneath your skin.

You're lightheaded and sloppy when Atsumu pulls away from your neck, crimson rivulets falling down the sides of his chin. You still think he's the most gorgeous man you've ever seen, even while the sweet pain on your neck and all over your exhausted body lures you to close your eyes.

Just for a minute.

"Well, darlin'" you hear him whisper, before everything turns black "I've finally left love consume me"

Ch. Twenty

⚠WARNING: Stressful situation, vomiting, crying, grieving

• ────── ✾ ────── •

Keep reading

The fallen angel, Castiel

My first time making an animated illustration! Also I have this drawing available as prints on my redbubble shop 😋

Since the gif ate my quality a little here’s some non-gif versions:

ℂ∆$₮ℹ︎℮⅃

What the fvck

summary: Your long term boyfriend leaves you for someone else (no cheating), so you decide to take revenge on the most important person in his life. But it takes an unexpected turn... genre: angst, smut, a pinch of fluff? warnings: fighting, falling out of love, breakup, swearing, MINORS DNI betas: @vivianvampyric thank you so much, my love. What would I do without you <3 special thanks: to @karasunowo for this beautiful Osamu doodle <3 and my soulmate @bokutosace for pushing me past my block <3 a/n: Fic is a part of the Anilysium server collab with a prompt: hate/revenge fucking. You can find the masterlist here. wc: 3.2k

“What the fuck?!”

Eight years. Eight fucking years reduced to this one sentence.

“Am sorry, I really am.”

To be fair, Atsumu does look sorry—with pain besmirching his big brown eyes, usually so warm and bright; a quiver of his bottom lip and muscles shifting in his jaw; and the way he’s fiddling with his fingers, something he almost never does. Something about precious setter fingertips.

“I don’t give a fuck, Atsumu! How could you?!” He shrinks in on himself.

“I— We haven’t done anythin’, I just— A wanted ta be fair ta ya.”

You scoff. Fair. How is dumping a girlfriend of eight years after living together for five for some other chick fair? How is falling in love with someone else after making promises of forever since high school fair?

You’re surprised you haven’t started crying yet—maybe it’s because of the shock, maybe it’s the rage, or maybe it’s your pride and not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you break down. Although between the breakdown and your current outburst, you’re not sure which is worse.

“Look, yer free to stay ‘ere fer as long as ya want. I have a place ta stay, I’ll grab ma things when yer out. I owe ya this much.”

“You don’t owe me shit.”

“I do. I— I better go now. Bye, Y/n.”

Closing the door of your shared apartment (not anymore, you realise) opens a door somewhere inside of you, and you burst in tears. And then you cry, and cry, and cry, until your eyes are swollen and burning, and you can’t open them anymore.

The next few days are a blur; you're not quite sure if it's a day or night with your closed curtains, you fall in and out of an uneasy slumber, and don't remember the last time you ate or showered.

The rage has burnt everything in you, leaving nothing but ashes and dried tear trails. It's bizarre, not feeling anything—a little bit like drowning, a little bit like floating, a little bit like suffocating.

On the fifth day of this timeless suspension you realise that the noise you hear isn't an earthquake; it's just your stomach demanding something, anything. But there's nothing at the apartment, you've already ate whatever was still consumable, and the rest is spoiled.

You're still standing in front of the open empty fridge, deciding on whether to go shopping or not, but the loud grumbling makes the decision for you. But first, you need a shower.

The water feels magical as it flows down your body. It's warm, bringing back sensations in your numb limbs. It cleanses the dread, removes dust, and all the dirt and worries disappear down the drain.

It's kind of refreshing to wear clean clothes after these few days and leaving the apartment, even if it's to go to the grocery store right next to your building. It's almost normal to pick the rice, vegetables, meat, and fruits.

Back at a home that isn't yours, the ingredients for a simple dish are simmering in the pot, and you hum happily while mixing. It's a sound that these walls haven't heard in a while, and it still lingers when you pour the soup in a bowl.

You sit at the table, clasp your hands together with an echoing clap and mutter an itadakimasu. And then it hits you, again. You're at the table, alone. About to eat dinner, alone. You're in this flat, alone. He's not here anymore, not yours anymore.

The dish is forced down your throat, spoon after spoon, even when you choke back the tears. It burns, it hurts, it threatens to go back up, but you continue, swallow after swallow. Because the world hasn't come to a halt, even if yours did.

There's a soft knock on the door, and you notice the room is filled with a red-ish, pink-ish light. You have survived another day, you think glancing at the setting sun.

---

"What the fuck." Osamu mutters under his breath and considers running away. "Why am I even doing this for that dick?"

He knows what Atsumu did. He knows that sometimes things like this happen and it's not necessarily anyone's fault. He's mad because he would never treat you like that. Maybe giving you up back in high school in favour of his twin was a mistake.

The man drags a hand down his face and knocks. Part of him hopes you're out, that you won't open the door and he won't have to pretend that he doesn't see your red, puffy eyes. Another part hopes that upon seeing him you'll just throw yourself into his arms in search of comfort.

There's a click of a lock and then a voice,

"'Samu?"

---

"'Samu? Come in, please."

It hurts how identical they are. Even despite different-coloured eyes, despite Osamu going back to his natural hair, they are so undeniably identical twins. Fuck.

"Would you like some tea? I don't have any coffee, sorry."

He hates the expression you're wearing, he hates how obvious it is that you're in pain, and he hates how it's probably because of his face. He shouldn't overstay his welcome, shouldn't break you any more, but he just can't leave.

When the drinks are ready, both of you sit at the table, the same one that you used to dine at with his brother. Judging by the look in your eyes, he's occupying Atsumu's chair, inflicting damage yet again.

The awkward silence fills the room; neither of you know what to say, because really what is there to say? Between the sips of a hot brew he opts for a meaningless small talk, one of about weather, because any other topic seems dangerous.

Time passes, and after many deafening tick-tocks it's suddenly too dark to see your undereye bags. You stand to turn the lights on.

"'Samu?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you here?"

He looks at you and gulps, not sure of your reaction when he says his name.

"To— to grab 'Tsumu's stuff."

"Did he— he asked you to?"

Osamu nods, and you can feel your blood boil. He was with you for eight fucking years, and he doesn't have the decency to come himself? He threw you away like trash, and he doesn't have the courage to look you in the eyes? He has to drag his brother into this?

You're angry, you're so angry, and the only thing you want is to devastate, to hurt, to break, to trample, just like you were devastated, hurt, broken, and trampled. Osamu stands in front of you.

"Am sorry, Y/n. Am so incredibly sorry."

Blinded by the rage, you hide your face in Osamu's chest, crumple his shirt in your fists, as you decide to destroy the only constant in Atsumu's life. To rip off something that was always his and claim it as yours, even if it’s just for one night.

He’s mad too; he gave you up all those years ago for his brother, only for him to step on it, and in the name of what? He’s spent all those years watching your relationship bloom, wishing you were his instead, but you belonged to his twin, you were untouchable, unattainable. But now, the very same brother left you, spat on Osamu’s sacrifice, and ran away. So he’s going to steal you away, claim you as finally his, even if it’s just for one night.

He hugs you tight, rubbing soothing patterns on your back, and mumbles apology after apology. If there was anything he could do, he'd do it in a heartbeat. There's not one thing he wouldn't do for you.

"'Samu, what's wrong with me? Am I not enough?" You mutter into the fabric. Hook.

"Huh? No, Y/n, look at me." You lift your face and look at him with doe eyes. Line. "There's nothing wrong with ya, yer a wonderful woman." Sinker.

You keep your gaze on him for a moment, pull him down by his shirt as you stand on your toes… and then you kiss him. A gentle peck right on his lips, then another one before you capture his bottom lip between yours.

"I— I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I don't—"

You push yourself off of him, babbling and pretending to panic, but in the corner of your eye you see how much he liked it. Perfect. So you place a finger on your lips, as if the sensation of him still lingered there, and shift your gaze at him.

Everything becomes a blur when you keep looking at each other, millions of feelings swarming in his eyes, a dangerous glint in yours. Everything is hazed over when he pulls you in and crashes his lips on yours.

His warm hands slide under your shirt against your cool skin and you gasp at the sensation. He wastes no time and kisses you deeper, harsher, with a tongue teasing at yours. You wonder if it tastes as sweet to him as it does to you.

Your impatient fingers tug at his shirt, wanting to feel him closer, sooner, right now. The kiss is broken and as if on command, both of you take your shirts off. Osamu's arms snake around your waist again, pulling you into him and into another searing kiss.

It's full of longing, full of hunger, overtaking your senses like a storm. There's just Osamu and the taste of his tongue, the feeling of it sliding and swirling around yours, and the stinging of his bites on your bottom lip.

He pushes you backwards until your thighs hit the edge of the table; you're lifted to sit on it as the black haired twin sucks hot marks onto your neck. His hands are on your thighs, digging in the soft flesh through your pants, and he moves them towards your ass, not forgetting to tease the creases with his thumbs.

A shiver runs down your spine and straight to your cunt; it’s a forbidden fruit with an alluring scent, and you want to bite into it, devour it whole, even if it consumes you back. Just the idea of the act is so sinful, that you can’t help but wonder if the heat inside you is arousal or hellfire.

Osamu’s huge hands unclasp your bra and throw it somewhere on the floor, then they move to cup your tits and squeeze them. His lips are on yours again, kissing you like there’s no tomorrow, as if he’s been waiting for it for a lifetime. A pinch on your nipples makes you release the sweetest little ‘ah’ he’s ever heard in his life.

You’re growing impatient, you want him to finally fill you up, so you tug on the band of his sweats and he gets it. Leaning on your palms you lift your hips us, giving him the opportunity to take both your pants and panties off. Where they land afterwards, you don’t know.

One of his hands reaches straight to your pussy, fingertips prod at the entrance and smear your juices all around your folds.

“Fuck.” He breathes into the kiss. “Yer so fuckin’ wet.”

He flicks your clit a few times and you arch your back in response. Osamu smirks; you’re so sensitive, so responsive, he can’t wait to pull all kinds of sounds from your lips, especially his name. He doesn’t have to wait long though, a few rubs and pinches on your nub and you let out a breathy “‘Samu…”, and he swears he could cum at that moment.

His touch feels so much different from his brother’s—his hands are rougher, fingers thicker, which you notice as the man slips one of them into your cunt. It’s so different but so good, intoxicating even, and you nearly lose your mind when another one joins in.

There’s a steady pace of the pumping of his digits, in and out, in and out, with each time the base of his fingers rubs against your clit. Your walls are squeezing him, nails digging in his shoulders, and when you moan his name again, he has to be inside you. Now.

Osamu pushes you gently so you lay down on the table, and gets rid of his sweats and boxers in the meantime. Your knees are spread wide to invite him into your leaking hole, and he enters in one swift motion. The next few seconds are still, it’s time to adjust to his size, to this new experience, but soon enough he moves again. Tea cups fall to the floor and shatter, but neither of you notices.

At first the thrusts are slow, careful, and he’s watching your face closely for any signs of discomfort. They don’t appear, so the pace is a little quicker, the push a little harder. It’s happening, it’s finally happening, the moment he’s been dreaming of for years at last coming true. It’s difficult to control himself, and soon enough his cock is drilling into you with a force that will surely bruise your cervix.

You’re so full of him, he’s invaded your pussy, your mind—in this moment your whole existence screams “Osamu, Osamu, ‘Samu.” You tell him to go even faster, even harder, to hammer out every thought out of your head. He complies, pulls you closer to the edge of the table and leans down over you. His hands grip the opposite edge of the furniture and Osamu makes an experimental thrust.

And then he’s ramming into you, pushing his cock even further in your cunt, and it’s a miracle that your table is still in one piece. You wrap your arms around his, nails digging in his shoulder blades, as the familiar heat blooms in your abdomen. One of your hands reaches down between your bodies, the other still holding onto him for dear life.

You rub your clit in circles, his cock covered in your slick gliding against your fingers, and you suppose you can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can he, both your brains turned into mush, and between incoherent moans and groans of oh gods and fuckfuckfucks only three words are exchanged.

“Where?”

“Inside. Pill.”

Your thighs shake around him, body arches off the tabletop, and your cunt sucks him deeper and deeper with every clench. His cock twitches at every spasm but he needs to be patient, you need to fall first. And you do, after he suckles harshly on your nipple, with a loud scream of his name. His name. This is what pushes him off the edge, and he spills inside your throbbing pussy in hot spurts.

There’s a moment of silence, only your quickened pants fill the air. You’re still wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and Osamu thinks that maybe this is his chance. Only chance.

“Lemme take ya to bed.” He whispers in your ear and you nod, so he lifts you off the table and carries you to the bedroom.

He lays you down gently, hovering over you, and captures your lips between his once again. Only this time it’s slow, gentle, full of all the words he’s never said. Because this time is not about the hot eruption of anger, not about revenge. It’s about you (and maybe him, if you allow it), about the worship and unspoken feelings.

His kisses trail down, caressing every inch of your skin, every crease and mound of your body, until you ask him to fill you up again. Only then does he push in again, rolling his hips calmly, almost lovingly. Only then does he whisper how beautiful you are in your ear. Only then does he make love to you, until you both fall asleep.

---

You’re woken up by a clinking noise coming from the kitchen, but it takes a moment before your awareness comes back enough to actually process what’s happening. There’s still a faint scent of a cologne and sex in the air; the pillow next to you is rumpled, same as the sheet.

Then it dawns on you—memories of the last night and who you spent it with flow freely into your mind. You wonder if the noise coming from outside of your bedroom is made by your latest hook-up, who just so happens to be your ex-boyfriend’s twin. Your feet search for the slippers but find none; you just throw some t-shirt from the floor on you and patter barefoot to the kitchen.

You’re welcomed with a sight of Osamu’s bare back, very muscular back, marked with long red stripes and a bite mark on his shoulder. There’s a familiar throbbing between your thighs, and it suddenly feels so empty without his cock; even though it’s wrong, it’s wicked, it’s salacious. What the fuck?

The man is still unaware of your presence, digging through the cupboards in search of bowls, plates, chopsticks—anything to serve the breakfast in. For one person, as you notice. Everything is ready, so he places the dishes on a tray and turns to put them on a table, only to be startled by your figure.

“Oh god, ya scared me.”

“Good morning to you too, ‘Samu.”

There’s an awkward silence; you’re still standing facing each other—you in his shirt, him with a tray.

“I made ya breakfast. Thought you’d be hungry when ya wake up.”

“You’re not gonna eat?”

He’s still standing there, but now his eyes are trained on the food, as if he was counting the grains of rice.

“A don’t think ya’d want my company.”

“I do. Stay. Please?”

The smile that shows up on his face is faint, even less visible than the sudden glint in his irises. But he stays, plates another set of dishes and sits by you at the table. The rest of the meal passes in silence; only after the bowls are empty do you speak,

“‘Samu, I’m sorry, I- I used you to—”

“Do ya regret it?” He doesn’t let you finish, his gaze is intense, taking in your confused expression. “Sleepin’ with me. D’ya regret it?”

You let the question sit in your mind for a moment, wait for your conscience to object but it doesn’t happen, so you reply simply, “No.”

“Good. I don’t either. I used ya too, ya know.” Your confusion changes into disbelief, so he leans back on the chair with a sigh and continues. “I got mad. Back in high school I stepped back from pursuing ya. I told ‘im that if he’s serious about ya, A won’t stand in the way. And then looked at ya both wishin’ t’was me. With you. But that dickhead threw it away. I was so mad that I wanted ya to be mine, even just for a moment, yanno?”

It’s a lot to take in, what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? Twin brother of your now ex-boyfriend, the one you have just spent a very pleasant night with, has been feeling something for you? For this whole time? You watch as Osamu shifts to lean on his elbows on the table, face hidden in his palms.

“Sorry for droppin’ that bomb on ya.”

“Do you… Do you still…”

“Love ya? Yeah.” Your heart skips a beat at his words.

“Wait for me. Wait until I heal.”

It’s a selfish request, you know it, but Osamu nods anyway. There’s something to look forward to now, because when you heal, maybe you’ll make the choice you were deprived of.

Castiel, angel of the lord

prints

Dark eyes meet under the sky The stars are out, we're alive in the night

Absolutely nothing to see here. Just a dad waiting for his kids to show up so they can go on a little hunt together.

cause i can’t stay with someone else

despite wanting to rip his brother’s head off, osamu sits next to him. “i can already tell the next few days are gonna be a bitch,” he groans while atsumu laughs.

“i don’t need ya to keep me company, samu.” atsumu teases, pinching his brother’s cheeks. “y/n will take care of me. she’s been lookin’ forward to this fer weeks.”

osamu freezes again, thinking back to how you were buzzing with anticipation before atsumu’s arrival, anxiously waiting by the front door for him. everything’s going to revert back to when you were kids again. walking with atsumu hand-in-hand while osamu is left alone in the corner.

he’s going to ruin everything.

she's finally here and she's a big bitch. i've been stressing over this for months and it's finally out. would've been here sooner but work, life, and my own head got in the way. so many of you have been asking for this and i was so worried of letting people down. i really hope you like it and put my lil brain at ease 🥺

words: 8.1k (i'm sorry)

cw: fem!reader, bullying, name-calling, jealousy, insecurity, fingering, floor sex, slight dubcon, slight somnophilia, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, lots of italics, very long-overdue love confession, let me know if i didn’t tag anything, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/ just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

“The fuck ya smilin’ so much about?” Osamu says when you show up at his place that day. You’ve been so giddy the past few days, practically bouncing with every step. Osamu’s harsh words didn’t even phase you, it was almost as if you weren’t even listening to him.

“You seriously don’t know?” you ask, barely able to contain the smile on your face. Osamu eyes you curiously, you’re never this expressive (unless Osamu did something particularly mean to you) but Osamu doesn’t feel like playing your games today.

He turns on his heel to head back to his room. “If yer not gonna tell me, I’m takin’ a nap,” he grumbles, hoping you’d join him but you’re sitting on the couch looking at the front door every once in a while. Osamu stops for a second...Couldn’t be. He thinks before continuing back to his room to shut his eyes.

His sleep doesn’t last long. About an hour later, Osamu’s stomping back into the living room ready to yell at you for waking him up with your shrieking. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you in the arms of someone else.

Atsumu.

It’s as if you leaped into his arms after he walked through the door. His bags are dropped near his feet as he holds your weight, laughing along with your excitement. You don’t even spare him a passing glance as you bombard Atsumu with questions about how training camp is going. During your rambling, Atsumu’s brown eyes flick over to his younger brother, smiling at the grimace on his face.

“Ya said ya weren’t comin’ back for another week,” Osamu says, crossing his arms. You finally turn your head to where he’s standing and your eyes widen for a second—fear?—but Atsumu curls his arm tighter around your waist and offers his twin a shrug.

“Vacation started early,” he smirked, walking towards the couch while still holding you. He plopped down, with you in his lap. “Thought I’d surprise ya.” It was a surprise as far as Osamu was concerned. He thought he had more time until the hurricane that was his loudmouthed brother eventually came home.

It had been a few months since Atsumu had been back. He had been off at training camp since graduation. At first, he came home every other weekend but as the training became more intensive, he decided to stay at camp longer to focus on his regimen. Osamu remembers the day his brother left. Atsumu had been your best friend since childhood and when he went off to camp, you couldn’t stop crying. The never-ending flow of tears pissed Osamu off to the point that he eventually did something about it.

It ended up with him fucking you in Atsumu’s bed.

Since then, it was Osamu whose shadow you were always in. Talking to him so sweetly and doing whatever you could to please him. He didn’t have to share you with anyone but now his biggest competition is back and it isn’t even a fair fight. Five minutes in, and you’re practically straddling him talking nonsensically about all the things you can do now that he’s home. Osamu’s fuming but he doesn’t react, he’s been in this position before.

“Oh, you’re probably starving. We should get some food,” you say, moving off his lap to grab your phone. “I bet you’re not in the mood to cook, Samu. Let’s order something!” Atsumu hums in agreement, never taking his eyes off you as you walk out the room to figure out what to eat.

Once you’re gone, Atsumu turns his attention back to the upset man in the room. “Not gonna give yer brother a hug?” he asks, comically holding his arms out.

But Osamu is ready to clock him in the jaw for that stunt he pulled. Most people know to stay away from you if they know what’s good for them. Osamu was never too far away from you most days—walking you to and from class with an arm wrapped around your waist. Any guy who was dumb enough to try to get with you usually became well-acquainted with Osamu’s fist. But Atsumu is the only person he couldn’t face, not when you looked at him as if he hung all the stars in the sky.

Osamu always locked up when Atsumu was around. Everyone favored his brother—he was the nicer twin, the life of the party, people loved being in his presence. You were no different. Osamu can think back to all the times you ran into his brother’s arms, much like you did today, after “big, bad Samu” hurt your feelings.

With his brother gone, Osamu showed a different side of him. Sure, he’s still calling you an “idiot” every other sentence but Osamu noticed you leaning into his touch, asking for kisses, and holding his hand absentmindedly. Things you never did when Atsumu was around.

“So ya told her you were comin’ back but not me?” Osamu asks, ignoring Atsumu’s request.

Atsumu feigns a sad look. “She wanted to tell ya, but I thought this was funnier,” he smirks. “I was right.”

Despite wanting to rip his brother’s head off, Osamu sits next to him. “I can already tell the next few days are gonna be a bitch,” he groans while Atsumu laughs.

“I don’t need ya to keep me company, Samu.” Atsumu teases, pinching his brother’s cheeks. “y/n will take care of me. She’s been lookin’ forward to this fer weeks.”

Osamu freezes again, thinking back to how you were buzzing with anticipation before Atsumu’s arrival, anxiously waiting by the front door for him. Everything’s going to revert back to when you were kids again. Walking with Atsumu hand-in-hand while Osamu is left alone in the corner.

He’s going to ruin everything.

~

Osamu had been right when he said his brother’s visit would be exhausting. For the past few days, you and Atsumu were joint at the hip. If you two weren’t cuddling on the couch for a movie night, you were probably in the backyard tossing a volleyball around which usually ended with the two of you rolling around in the grass. If Atsumu’s need to be touching every part of your body wasn’t bad enough, he wasn’t shy about giving you compliments whenever Osamu walked in the room.

“Yer so pretty when ya smile like that,” Atsumu cooed one morning while Osamu was making breakfast—it took all his energy not to fling the skillet at his brother’s head. To make it worse, you’d blush every time he threw a stupid line like that. Osamu tried to ignore it but it seemed as though Atsumu made it his mission to shower you with affection.

“You’re mad,” you pointed out. Atsumu had left the house to hang out with some of his former Inarizaki teammates, leaving you and Osamu alone. You crawled into Osamu’s bed, mumbling the words against his lips. “Don’t be…”

He lets you kiss him, lets you run your fingers through his dyed locks. Osamu won’t admit that he’s missed your touch but when he inhales your scent, all he can smell is his brother. “Why didn’t ya go off with him?” he grunts, pushing you off before rolling on his side.

You don’t give up, though, wrapping your arms around him to be the big spoon. “Don’t be upset. It’s been so long since we’ve seen Tsumu. Obviously, I want to spend time with him,” you explain, doing little to soothe Osamu’s bad mood. “You should too, he’s your brother.”

“I’ve hung out with him enough to last a lifetime,” he huffs. Osamu can feel your hands wandering, stopping just as they’re about to slip past his pajama bottoms. Part of him wants to let you continue, but he can’t bring himself to. With his brother around, Osamu hasn’t had the chance to get his hands on you. Every time he turned a corner, you were perched in Atsumu’s lap, laughing at whatever bullshit he spewed out. When he was younger, Osamu would just get pissed off and sulk in his room but things feel different now. He’s been able to have you—he’s seen you writhing underneath him, moaning from his touch, and screaming his name. To see you hanging off his brother now stings a bit more. “Can ya fuck off? Go spend time with Tsumu since yer so worried about him.”

Osamu shoves you away, nearly pushing you off the mattress. He hears you whine in discomfort when your phone goes off. “H-hello?” you mumble, rejection heavy in your voice. Osamu doesn’t have to try very hard to know that it’s his brother on the phone. His annoying voice came through the speaker. “Uh, no, I’m not doing anything...yeah, I can meet you there.” Osamu caught the hesitation in your voice but tried not to dwell on it, you were still leaving him anyway. “No, you don’t have to come get me—oh, okay…”

The call ends a few minutes later, Osamu hears your footsteps fade as you leave the room. He wished you said something before you left but you were probably too scared that you would piss him off.

“Is she datin’ anyone?” Atsumu asks later that evening, once again bothering Osamu while he was cooking. You were next door at your place, grabbing a few things before returning for dinner. You must have been exhausted with the way Atsumu dragged you around everywhere.

“Excuse me?” the younger twin asks, staring at his brother incredulously.

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “y/n, stupid. I was askin’ Kita about it but he wouldn’t give me an answer. Figured if anyone knew it’d be ya.” he said, leaning on the counter. “You’ve been takin’ good care of her since I’ve been away, yeah?”

Osamu feels his face heat up, thinking about the last time the two of you had sex. You looked so cute in the new skirt you had on and Osamu couldn’t help himself—he had to embarrass you by flipping it up and showing off your pretty pink panties in front of your friends just to see the tears form in your eyes. You had bitched at him all the way home, crying about how mean he was being.

He thought you looked so adorable when you were upset, leaning in for a kiss in the middle of your ranting. “Ya ever shut up, ya fuckin’ brat?” he asks condescendingly, running his hands along your body. “Will ya stop cryin’ if I stuff you with my cock? Fill ya up ‘till all ya can think about is me?”

The way your eyes light up when Osamu talks like this never fails to amaze him. Such an innocent façade you put on for the rest of the world but only Osamu knows what a cock drunk little bitch you become, begging for “more, more, more” when he has you under him. He knows he doesn’t have to do all of this just to get you in bed but there’s a sick pleasure Osamu feels when he does something to make you upset. It makes you more eager to please, so submissive. There’s no better sight than you fucked dumb, whimpering how “it’s too much, samu”.

“Earth to Samu,” Atsumu grunts, snapping his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “Have ya been listenin’ to me?”

Shaking his head of his lewd thoughts, Osamu grumbles a response. “She’s not my fuckin’ problem. How should I know if she’s with someone?” he lies, going back to his food that, thankfully, hasn’t burned. “Why so concerned all of a sudden?”

Atsumu sighs dramatically. “I’ve thought about askin’ her out,” he muses, eyes giving his twin a once over before continuing. “Ya think she’d say yes? She’s always so affectionate when I’m around, it’s cute. Wondered if ya figured she’d be interested.”

Osamu’s ability to keep his composure has to be some kind of record. He can feel his vision blur and his hands clenching. For once, he thought he could have something to himself. Something Atsumu couldn’t ruin for him—like he’s done all his life. You might have been Atsumu’s friend growing up but the “relationship” you and Osamu shared was something his older brother could never understand.

He was going to mess it up, just like with everything else.

And Osamu couldn’t muster up the courage to tell him to back off. He wasn’t your boyfriend, something he’s made that clear to anyone stupid enough to ask. That never stopped him from getting jealous, though. Getting pissed off at you for letting another man flirt with you at a party or getting antsy when you ventured off too far from him. All he’s ever wanted was your attention but Atsumu’s always been the brighter, shinier one of the two.

“Do whatever ya want,” he says. “Not like I care.”

~

You started feeling tired after dinner, mumbling something about heading back home to rest. Atsumu offered his bed for the night but Osamu shuts it down quickly. “She can sleep on the couch,” he barks, shoving past his brother to get extra pillows and a blanket. He doesn’t miss the pained look on your face. It’s normally Osamu’s bed you sleep in, wrapped up in his arms every night. However, every time you tried to initiate something with him, Osamu pulled away. It’s to the point where he won’t even kiss you anymore and each time you get too scared to go any further.

But now, hours after both you and Atsumu had gone to bed, Osamu’s sneaking into the living room. You always looked so peaceful when you were sleeping. Normally, you were at your wits’ end, exasperated by Osamu’s revolving door of mood swings. So innocent, so easy to corrupt. Just the way he liked.

He curled up behind you, pulling you to his chest. The movement doesn’t seem to bother you as your form snuggles into him, as if you knew exactly what to do. Osamu takes a second to hold you—the past few days felt like an eternity and Atsumu’s words rattling around in his head have made it worse.

“I’ve thought about askin’ her out”

The thought of you in Atsumu’s clutches was too much. You’d fall so easily for his charms, everyone always did. He’d sweet talk you—fill your head with praises and promises to get you into his bed. He may have been your friend but Osamu staked his claim on you ages ago. Would that mean anything in the end?

Osamu’s hand is already down your shorts, fingers collecting the essence from your cunt. The familiarity of it all makes him groan in your shoulder. Softly, he runs his fingers along your slit, spreading your legs a bit for easier access. The constant prodding has you stirring in your sleep.

Still, Osamu refuses to slip inside you just yet, he wants to make you work for it a bit. There’s nothing you could have done to prevent Atsumu’s arrival, but he’ll gladly take his anger out on you. You slightly raise your hips, hoping for some relief in your slumber. Osamu holds you down, makes you take it at his pace. “Ahhh…” a sigh falls from your lips.

“I know,” he whispers, finally entering your warmth with two fingers. Your body tenses, mouth opening as a whine escapes. He shushes you as he angles his digits to reach for the sweet spot, the one that makes your walls spasm with pleasure.

“Samu,” you whimper, hands balled into fists. That’s right, he thinks, better know who you fucking belong to. He could tell you’ve been needy for him with how your slick coats his fingers. Osamu grinds his clothed cock against your ass—oh, how he wishes he could fuck you how he wanted, send you into a deep sleep with a belly full of cum. But you get so loud when he’s inside, tears running down your cheeks while getting railed.

What would Atsumu say if he saw? His precious y/n getting fucked by his younger brother who’s always been nothing but a menace to her since they were kids. Maybe Osamu should tell him how he took your virginity the night Atsumu left for training camp. How Osamu dragged you to his brother’s bed and had you bouncing on his cock. He should talk about how pretty you looked, cumming over and over until the only name you could remember was Osamu’s.

The sound of your cries brought Osamu back to the present, he had been ignoring your clit all this time and you were desperate for your release. Feeling generous, Osamu grinds the heel of his palm against your neglected bud, offering the stimulation you’ve been craving. Your head leaned back as another gasp escaped. Your hips started jolting, pitifully fucking yourself on Osamu’s fingers to reach your high.

Your eyes shoot open when you cum, creaming around Osamu’s hand with his name falling from your lips. He can feel his cock straining against his sweats as he feels your juices drench his fingers, the filthy sound of your pussy fluttering makes him harder with each passing second. He stops when your hand reaches for his wrist, your body shuddering from sensitivity.

Osamu shifts you around so you’re facing him, your breathing is still heavy as you try to calm down. “Just looked so pretty while you were sleepin’, dummy,” he hums against your lips. “Couldn’t help myself.” You sigh into his mouth when he kisses you properly, holding him close with your still-drowsy limbs.

He sucks in a breath when he feels you press your center against him, silently asking for him to fuck you. “Can’t,”

“But you’re hard,” you whine, moving your knee in between his legs to tease him more. Osamu moans at your touch, the pressure inside is telling him to push you on your back and have his way but he can’t bring himself to do it. Not when he’s upstairs. “Please?”

“Not tonight,” he says. That rejected look is back on your face before your brows furrow. To Osamu’s surprise, you return to your original position with your back facing him. “Don’t act like that—”

“Goodnight, Samu,” you bite back, not willing to hear him out anymore. For once, Osamu doesn’t have an insult to hurl at you, the urge to put you in your place isn’t there. Instead, he peels away from your form. He takes one last glance at you but you refuse to look at him. Feeling unwelcomed, Osamu heads upstairs to his room. He stops for a moment when he spots the door to Atsumu’s room and wonders if you’d say yes to him if he asked you out.

He shakes the thought away and continues down the hall.

~

Osamu ended up sleeping in the next day, the clock reading half past noon when he woke up. He doesn’t like being in bed that late and he wonders if you had breakfast in the morning.

He turns over to find you standing by his door with a hard-to-read look on your face. You shut the door behind you, crouching by Osamu’s bed. This feels wrong—you should have been in his bed last night, he should be holding you right now, whispering in your ear with a softness that was reserved for this time of the day. Osamu even made space for you on the mattress but you wouldn’t take it.

“What’s your problem?” you asked with a ferocity in your eyes that he’s not used to seeing. “I mean, really, Samu. Ever since Tsumu’s been here, you’ve been pushing me away. Did I do something?”

“What’re ya bitchin’ about now?” Osamu groans, rolling over to ignore you but your hand on his shoulder stops him. You keep it there, forcing him to face you.

“I’m serious, you’ve been so nasty to me...more than usual.” you’re looking at him in the eye, something else he’s not used to. “And last night—that was the first time you’ve touched me in days…” your cheeks flushed, thinking about Osamu’s fingers plunging in and out of you.

He thinks back to how you looked last night, delirious from sleep and his hand down your shorts yet still so willing to get him off. Even right now he wants you underneath him, to hold you close and feel every part of you. After hearing his lack of response, you puff out your cheeks and Osamu smiles softly. He’d never say it out loud but he finds your small defiance cute.

“Um, me and Atsumu…” you start and Osamu feels his stomach drop, fearing the words that are about to leave your lips. “We made breakfast this morning because we wanted to let you sleep and we started talking.” Your eyes flicked over at Osamu’s, the attitude you had completely disappeared. “He asked me out on a date.”

The sinking feeling in Osamu’s stomach starts to burn. He can feel the rage building up inside but he can’t take it out on you, he needs to think first. “Excuse me?”

Your cheeks flush, hands shaking a bit. “It came out of nowhere! We were talking about how he’s going back to camp soon and he was saying how much he missed me…” It’s as if you’re choosing your words carefully, worried what Osamu’s reaction might be. “And then he said that we should get dinner and at first, I thought he meant the three of us but… He said he wanted it to be the two of us—like a date.”

“What did you say?” he asks through gritted teeth. You stare at him sympathetically and Osamu knows you said yes. Once again he comes in second place to Atsumu, the golden child. How could he compare? He sits up finally, towering over you crouched on the floor, bracing himself for your answer.

“I told him I’d think about it,” your answer doesn’t make him feel better. You should’ve told him no right then and there. But then again, rejection has never been in Atsumu’s vocabulary. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

“What’s there to talk about, y/n?”

You shoot him an incredulous look. “I figured you’d have some opinion on it since—you know…”

“Because I fuck ya?” Osamu can feel the venom bubbling in his throat. He didn’t know why he was acting this way. “If ya wanna fuck Atsumu too, go ahead. I can’t control ya.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, Samu!” you snap, catching him off guard. “Just tell me you don’t want me to go.”

“I don’t care what ya do,” he says, getting out of bed and shoving past you.

But you, persistent as ever, followed him down the hallway. “You don’t care? You always seem to care when you think someone is flirting with me. Or when you caught Suna staring at my ass that one time.” you stand in front of his path to get his attention. “I know you don’t want me to go, just say it!”

You’re giving him a way out. I don’t want you to go out with him, he wants to say. I want you to stay here with me. But the insecurity creeping away at him wonders if part of you wants to be with his brother instead.

“I’m not yer boyfriend,” he says, his go-to argument. One that you’ve heard a million times.

“God, I’m so fucking tired of hearing that,” you reach for Osamu’s face, forcing him to stare back at you. He doesn’t want to talk about this right now. It would be so easy to brush you off and act like this conversation never happened—he’s done it so many times. But the look on your face tells him you’re not standing for it. “Sometimes I wonder if I actually mean anything. Am I just someone for you fuck, Samu?”

No, he thinks. Osamu can feel his hold on you, the one he’s worked so hard to keep, slipping away. Shouldn’t you know how he feels for you at this point? Why does he have to put a label on it?

Osamu’s the one who takes care of you when you’re sick, snapping at you for being so reckless with your health. He’s the one who picks you up at the bar when you’ve had too much to drink, who holds you when you’re having a bad day and all you want to do is cry. Why couldn’t you see that part?

But then he thinks of how you’ve been looking at him lately. Your arms reach out to touch him, to hold him, and he slaps them away. Brushing past you as if you hadn’t said anything. And every time he does it, you end up going to Atsumu. It’s history repeating over and over and Osamu doesn’t have the nerve to stop it.

Your frustrated sigh breaks his trance. “You can’t have me whenever you want and then act like you don’t care. Either I mean something to you or I don’t.”

He softens in your embrace. “Ya mean a lot more than just somethin’, y/n,” he says, fingers tugging at your shirt to bring you closer to him.

“How would I know that?”

There’s nothing Osamu wants more than to kiss you right now. He’s deprived himself of your touch for so long and he wants to drown in it. You’re mine, he thinks, you’ve always been mine, not his.

And who should round the corner at this very moment? “Am I interruptin’ somethin’?” Osamu peers over your shoulder and there he is, smirking as if he knows a joke that everyone else is privy to. Osamu feels your body tense up and your hold on him waver, it’s subtle but he notices it immediately.

He’s suddenly shoving you away from him. You would have fallen on your ass if Atsumu wasn’t there to catch you. “Hey!” Atsumu scolds as your body falls into his arms. “The fuck is wrong with ya?” Brown eyes shoot daggers at Osamu.

But he can only focus on how you look as if you’re about to burst into tears—eyes rimmed red and lip quivering. Why did he push you away again? Why was he always bringing you back into Atsumu’s grasp? Osamu opens his mouth to apologize, something he rarely ever does even when he knows he’s in the wrong. But the sad look on your face starts to harden and you’re staring at Osamu with a wave of anger he’s never seen before.

“I never answered your question, Tsumu,” you mumble, turning in Atsumu’s hold so you’re facing him. The blonde is a little confused at first but he catches on after seeing the small smile on your face.

“Really?” he asks as if he wasn’t furious just seconds before.

“Yeah,” you look up with a sparkle in your eyes that has only been reserved for him. Osamu wants to pull you away but he freezes upon hearing the last few words that leave your lips. “I’d love to go out with you.”

~

Osamu is in the kitchen when the two of you leave for your date. He wants to rip Atsumu’s head off when he wraps his arms around your waist. He’s never seen you look so excited about something and wonders if you’ll have a good time.

He distracts himself by drinking with friends but he can’t have a good time knowing that you’re probably giggling at one of Atsumu’s stupid jokes right now. His brother must be a blushing mess by now, bashfully admitting how he’s always wanted to ask you out. Would you fall for his lines and admit that you’ve always wanted him too?

What would happen when Atsumu eventually had to go back to training camp? Would you end back up in Osamu’s shadow, hoping for a sweet word from him? No, he thinks. He’s ruined any chance of that by now. He so desperately wanted you all to himself and he let you get away.

Not because Atsumu was better than him. Not because you didn’t want him. But because he couldn’t show that he had given a shit about you.

Osamu stares down at the amber liquid in his glass. He can’t remember how many drinks he’s had tonight, he just keeps asking the bartender for more. Taking his glass in hand, Osamu knocks back what’s left, feeling the alcohol burn in his throat.

“Geez, how drunk you trying to get?” Suna snorts, pausing the conversation he was having with Ginjima.

Osamu considers Suna’s words for a second, starting to feel the effects of the liquor in his veins. But he can still picture your hand on Atsumu’s chest, leaning in closer and closer until…

“Drunk enough to forget tonight,” he grunts, motioning the bartender to get him another drink.

“Don’t you think you’ve had too much?” Ginjima asks, a worried look on his face as Osamu sips his alcohol. But the fact that he’s still sober enough to remember that you and Atsumu are out on a date right now means that he needs more. Osamu’s looking to get absolutely shitfaced if it means he doesn’t have to see your face in his head anymore.

Somewhere in his haze, Osamu must have brought up the situation with Atsumu as Suna lets out a very fitting “Yikes,” and the mood shifts. Everyone knew about the strained relationship with the twins and how you were always in the middle of it—both of them tugging on your arm like you were a toy to be fought over.

They saw how Osamu’s demeanor changed when Atsumu went away. Sure, he was still an insufferable grump who saw red anytime another man so much as breathed near you. But when he was with you, he was softer—though he’d never admit that. You were the only one that could quell his anger and stop his emotions from getting the better of him.

He was so secretive at first when the two of you started fooling around. Nobody could know what went on between you but after a while, Osamu would tell on himself constantly with the firm grip he had on your hand. He’d hold you close, whisper in your ear, and eventually start kissing you in front of everyone but somehow expected his friends not to ask questions. We’re not dating. He’d say one minute before punching some dude at a party for thinking he could dance up on you.

“Funny,” Suna quips, nursing his own drink, though it’s still the only one he’s had all night. “I can’t believe Atsumu would ask her out again,”

“Again?”

Suna’s brow quirks. “You never knew? Astumu asked y/n out back in high school. Caught him crying in the locker room when she turned him down,”

Atsumu had asked you out before? And you turned him down? You had never mentioned anything about that to Osamu but, to be fair, the two of you weren’t exactly friendly to each other back then. As soon as Atsumu left for camp, Osamu made him a taboo subject to bring up in conversation. Most girls would have killed to be with his brother back then—even now, Atsumu can light up a room better than anyone else. But you had rejected him. Why?

But then Osamu remembers that you went out with Atsumu anyway while he’s sitting at a random bar. Whether or not you turned down Atsumu and why you did it doesn’t matter all that much.

He swallows the remainder of his drink and immediately orders a round of shots. Ginjimagroans while Suna, eager to get drunk as well, claps him on the back. But Osamu’s not trying to have fun tonight, he wants to forget how badly he fucked everything up—until your face is no longer etched in his brain.

It’s the middle of the night when Osamu makes it home, or he thinks so at least. He’s not sure how he managed to leave the bar but suspects Ginjima called him a cab. He stumbles through the front door, knocking into furniture with every step. He’s usually good at handling his liquor but that’s because you’re there, making sure he’s limiting himself.

His blurred vision prevents him from noticing everything blocking his path, bumping into chairs and tables as if he doesn’t know the layout of his fucking house. Going upstairs to his room would be too much of a hassle by now so, in his drunken state, he makes his way toward the couch to sleep there for the night.

At least, he tries to.

Osamu, the drunk idiot that he is, bangs his knee into the coffee table and crashes to the floor. “Shit,” he grunts, holding onto his knee in pain. It doesn’t help that his head is pounding and the room is spinning too. Osamu thinks he might have drunk too much tonight but, unfortunately, you’re still weighing heavy on his mind which means he didn’t have enough.

“Samu?” says a shrill, familiar voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

A lamp flickers on and Osamu groans as the light hits his eyes. He waits for them to get used to the light before directing his attention to the source of the voice.

You’re at the foot of the stairs, scowling at the boy curled up on the floor. “You look like shit. Do you even know where you are right now?”

Osamu furrows his brow. He forces his eyes to focus on the living room. Only then does he realize that nothing looks right—the coffee table doesn’t have the broken corner on it from when the twins were play-fighting a few years back and the pictures hung on the wall look different.

This is your house.

It doesn’t take much brainpower to figure out that Osamu must have wobbled his way to your place instead of his. Your houses were right next to each other and he’s always had a spare key.

“Shit,” he grumbles, feeling stupid. His body is too sore to make the trek back home. He decides he’ll leave in the morning.

You’re next to him in seconds, kneeling at his side and helping him off the floor. “Let’s get you to the couch, okay?” Osamu grimaces—whether it’s from the pain in his knee or the fact that he can still smell the faint scent of your perfume, he’s not sure. He takes in the sight of you, your hair slightly tousled and framing your face, eyes full of concern, and lips plump and soft. He’s angrier than he’s ever been but more than anything he just wants to kiss you. That’s when he notices you’re wearing pajamas. A t-shirt that’s much too big for you and your cute sleep shorts. Only this one doesn’t look like his.

As you guide him across the living room and sit him down on the couch, Osamu grabs a fistful of the shirt and pulls you forward. “The fuck is this?” The force of him snatching you sends you down to your knees, staring up at him.

“It’s yours,” you say quickly, hoping he’s too drunk to notice that you’re lying. But you’re preaching to the choir. Osamu doesn’t own anything that looks like this—he knows someone who does, though.

“Is he upstairs? Did ya bring him here to fuck him?” That tried and true anger of his is festering in the pit of his stomach. His grip tightens, threatening to rip the fabric off of you.

“Samu, you reek of booze,” you try to reason, small hands fighting against him. “Nobody’s upstairs, okay? Nothing happened tonight.”

“Don’t believe ya. What the fuck would ya have this on, then?” You’re his. It didn’t matter if Atsumu got his clutches in you already, you always belonged to Osamu, even when you were little. Before you can open your mouth with some stupid excuse, Osamu’s pushing you to the floor and hovering over you. “How could ya hurt me like that?”

You scoff. “Like you haven’t been hurting me? What do you want from me, Samu?”

“Ya still don’t know?” Osamu pulls the ugly shirt off you, revealing your tits in the warm, dim light. He can tell you’re frustrated by the deep blush spreading across your cheeks. He’s refused himself of your body for so long. He’s going to devour you.

Osamu latches onto your breast, biting down on your bud. The whimper that leaves your lips goes straight to his cock. He should’ve done this days ago. “Samu! You’re too drunk, we shouldn’t.” Of course, one of you has to be responsible, Osamu figures but he’s not stupid. He can feel you grinding on his cock.

“So tell me to stop,” he says against your chest, hand slipping down to cup at your clothed cunt. He takes note of how your body tenses up when he does it. “That’s what I thought.” He sucks on your breast while his hand creeps past your shorts. Already so wet, he chuckles, running the tips of his fingers along your slit.

You can’t stop gasping, unable to grab onto anything to ground yourself, and balling your hands into fists. It’s so cute how you hump Osamu’s hand, eager to get off. He fumbles to undo his own belt, freeing his half-hard cock with one hand before he starts jerking himself off to the noises you’re making. It only makes you more desperate, cries leave your lips as you reach out to touch him.

“Oh, ya want my cock, dummy?” he coos, tugging your bottoms down and leaving you fully naked under him. He doesn’t miss how quickly you nod, yelping when his fat cock slides against your folds. Osamu ruts into you while he continues his assault on your tits—rolling your nipples in between his fingers and sucking at the sensitive skin. He makes sure not to catch the tip of his cock on your clit so you won’t be fully satisfied.

“Samu!” you whine, just like he knew you would. Your fingers tug on his hair, pulling him away from your chest. “Don’t tease me, please.”

The tears forming in your eyes make Osamu’s dick twitch. “Tell me how bad ya want it,” he orders, snapping his hips against your center so your thighs tremble. But you’re hesitating, eyes not meeting his as if you’re afraid to say what’s on your mind. Suddenly, Osamu’s heart is sinking to his stomach. Had he gone too far? Did he say something wrong?

His intrusive thoughts are interrupted when he feels your soft hands cradle his face. “I just need an answer, Samu. Am I yours or just someone you fuck?” A few tears run down your cheeks. “I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

Osamu presses his forehead against yours. “I’m not good at this,” he says, pinning your hands above your head, fingers intertwining. “But you’ve always been mine, y/n. All I’ve ever wanted was you.” With a kiss, Osamu sinks into your cunt and has to get used to how tight you are—it really has been too long.

The sensation drives you crazy as well, arms wrapped around Osamu’s neck, sobbing in pleasure. “Say it again,” you cry against his lips, ignoring the slight pain of getting used to having him inside you again. “Tell me I’m yours again, please. Wanna hear it.”

Both of you sigh when Osamu finally bottoms out. He looks down towards your stomach, where it’s slightly bulging. “Mine, and only mine, yeah?” he breathes, taking a few seconds to get used to your walls squeezing down on him. Slowly, he pulls back a little before grinding back into you. “Fuck, I’ve missed ya so much.” he gasps, hands reaching underneath your thighs to press them to your chest.

Your high-pitched cries fill the room as Osamu pounds your sweet cunt. You’re trying your best to keep your eyes on him but each thrust knocks the wind out of you. “Feels s’good, Samu. Missed you too—fuck!” Your walls choke his cock, thigh shaking as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, then. My sweet lil dummy, yeah?” Osamu growls, quickening his pace until the sound of skin slapping is overwhelming. The force of your orgasm nearly pushes Osamu’s cock out of you. Cries leave your lips while you come down from the high. Your eyes are red and puffy from all the tears you’ve shed. Osamu takes a moment of his own, staving off his own release.

Osamu sits up, shedding the rest of his clothes before pulling you into his lap. You grimace when you feel him lining himself up to enter you once more. “Sensitive,” you mumble, face in the crook of Osamu’s neck.

But you don’t fight back when he’s inside you once more, cock stretching you out until your hips finally meet. “Ya can give me another one, hm? For me?” Osamu kisses along your jawline, giving you a breather before he’s fucking you proper once more. “You’re mine, remember? Gotta fill ya up nice and good with my cum, yeah?”

His words have you moaning against his skin, unabashedly fucking yourself on his cock despite your poor cunt already spent from your last orgasm. “Love it when you say that,” you cup his face between your palms, kissing him over and over. “Want your cum, Samu. Want you to fill me up, please, please, please.”

Seeing you so fucked out, bouncing in his lap and begging for him triggers something primal in Osamu. He snatches your hips, nails digging into your skin. Tears flood down your face while the rhythm Osamu sets becomes brutal. “Gonna ruin ya for everyone else,” he snarls, feeling the precipice of his own release. “This body was made fer me, yeah. Just me…” His hand slips between both your bodies, catching your clit to send you over the edge once more.

“Just—just you!” you cry, chanting Osamu’s name like a prayer when you cum for a second time, making a mess of both of you. The way your walls convulse around him as Osamu’s cock twitching before he’s spilling inside your warm, willing cunt. It’s not long before you’re whining from how full you are. Osamu’s cum has always been thick and too much but he’s been pent from not fucking you for what felt like ages. “Full…” you whimper.

“Ya can take it,” he shushes, keeping both of you in that position until he’s sure you’ve milked him dry. You’ve relaxed in his arms, body exhausted from a rough and thorough fucking. He pulls out after a while, his cum seeping out of you and he has half a mind to finger it back inside but he restrains himself and gets you both cleaned up.

He must have sobered up at some point by how efficient he is at getting the two of you in your tub, cleaning off the sweat and cum from your bodies before dressing you in fresh pajamas. Thankfully, he always keeps spare clothes in your house. Osamu carries you to bed, ready to curl you into his side and doze off into a peaceful sleep. But somehow, with tired limbs you climb into his lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

“You meant what you said, right?” you ask, sleepy eyes staring up at him. “You’re not going to push me away again?” And Osamu can see the fear in your eyes, the worry that he might take his words back in the morning and send the both of you back to square one. He can’t blame you, he’s had his moments where he’s been inexplicably sweet to you just to go back on his word.

You continue, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Samu. I only did it ‘cause I’ve been hurting for so long. I thought maybe I was wasting my time here because you wouldn’t commit to me,” You play with the ends of his hair, softly tugging on the freshly-washed strands. “I just wanted you to tell me not to go on the date because you wanted to be with me. Sometimes I just feel like some girl you caught dibs on or something...as if you don’t actually care to be with me for me.”

Osamu sighs, he thought he was already showing those things for you—in his own way. But what you wanted was validation, something concrete to show that you meant something to him. Maybe that’s why you sought comfort in Atsumu who’s never been shy about expressing how special you are to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words feeling foreign in his mouth. Your eyes grow wide with shock. Osamu’s never apologized to you before, for anything. There were moments when he wanted to but something, pride or stupidity, always stopped him. When he’d upset you, he’d cook your favorite meal, buy a gift or fuck the anger out of you. But he knows that can’t be his default anymore. “I should’ve seen that I was hurtin’ ya but…”

Osamu’s afraid of what he wants to say next, afraid of what your reaction might be but it’s something he needs to do.

“The truth is seeing ya with Atsumu makes me so scared. ‘Cause...you’re just so happy when he’s around and I get worried that maybe you’d prefer him over me. Most people do...” he feels your hand cup his cheek and he leans into your touch. “I wanted to make ya happy like that but seeing you with him made me so angry that I just took it out on ya instead.”

Now or never, Osamu thinks. “You’ve never been just some girl. You’re the only girl that’s ever meant anything to me. I’ve been in love with ya since we were kids and I’ve just been too fucking stupid to realize it. I’ve always loved ya and all I’ve wanted was for ya to love me back—not cause yer stuck with me or somethin' but cause ya actually mean it.”

His body is shaking and he feels like he’s going to vomit from nerves. Somehow, Osamu musters up the courage to look you in the eye and he sees that you’re crying again. But these are different tears because you’re leaning in and kissing him feverishly. Again and again and again. It isn’t until he feels your fingertips rubbing his cheeks that Osamu realizes he’s crying too. Fuck, he’s actually crying.

“I do love you,” you proclaim with the biggest smile Osamu’s ever seen. “And I’ll keep saying it until you know it’s true.” But Osamu just needed to hear it only once to believe it. You love him.

And he loves you.

~

“You’re indulging him,” Osamu complains, pulling you into his lap as the two of you sit at the bottom of the stairs watching everyone else mingle in the living room.

“He wouldn’t shut up about it if we didn’t do it,” you remind him for the hundredth time. “Just be nice tonight, okay?” You kiss the pout off his face but Osamu still grumbles under his breath.

Atsumu was leaving in the morning but he, of course, wanted a going away party to see him off. Osamu thought it was a bit dramatic—his brother would only be gone for two months tops but Atsumu always craved the spotlight.

As usual, he charmed everyone with his stories from training camp and all the amazing athletes and coaches he’s working with. How he’s already being scouted for professional teams. Just a few more hours, Osamu thinks.

The one highlight is that this is Osamu’s first official outing as your boyfriend, something he feels a bit smug about since it takes some of the attention away from his idiot twin. Some people were surprised when you two finally made it official. Others, Suna and Kita, weren’t as shocked and wondered why it took so long to happen in the first place.

“What is the grumpy Miya Osamu thinking about right now?” you ask, head leaning against his shoulder.

Osamu kisses your temple. “How much I’d rather be in bed than listen to Atsumu tell this story again. What about ya?”

You smile at him with a sparkle in your eye that Osamu knows it's just for him. “How much I love you,”

Osamu snorts, hoping it covers the blush that’s most definitely on his cheeks but he’s sure you see right through him. “I love you too, dummy.”

©sugawarassoulmate 2021 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!