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kiyoomi-levin · 3 months

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here for you (yan!Suna RinatroxF!reader)

a/n this has been a wip for so long... enjoy! i'm working on a atsumu [nsfw] fic so be on the lookout for that next (unless adhd takes over and i start working on a different one instead)!

summary:: As a pro athlete and model, he's nice enough. And yet...there’s something in your gut that says you should stay away. word count:: ~4.4k warning(s):: non-con (no smut/SFW), suna's a grade A creep/stalker, yandere!!, isolation, stockholm syndrome, horror??(i tried to make this scary but it's really not lol) Music rec:: joke's on you - charlotte lawrence

As an aspiring journalist, your dreams had all but come true when you were hired as an intern at the most prestigious sports media center in Tokyo.

You get to shake hands with athletes you see on television daily and most importantly, you had received an actual assignment.

Gone were the days of running around to get your manager coffee and spending the day shredding documents. Instead, you had been tasked with creating an in-depth piece into the most popular athlete of the year— Suna Rintaro of EJP Raijin.

You still vividly remember your first time meeting him.

You’d been star-struck— a tall, gorgeous man you had only ever seen through a screen was standing in front of you.

Smiling. Holding out his beautiful hand for you to shake.

Despite his casual demeanor, there was something off about him. Maybe it was your nerves, or the cold air circulating in the office, but there was a tug in your stomach that was warning you.

At the time, you had plastered an excited grin on your face and scolded yourself.

But looking back— his eyes were quite cold, weren’t they?

You just can’t explain why you feel sick whenever you see him. In fact, despite the great task ahead of you—interviewing and writing up an article on Suna— you had been avoiding him.

There’s just something in you that dreads looking into his sharp green eyes.

It doesn’t help that in spite of your best efforts, you strangely run into him everywhere-- on and off the court.

“Suna?”

Your voice comes out squeaky and clearly nervous.

Are your eyes deceiving you? Why would he be here, in the middle of the cereal aisle, at the small grocery store next to your dingy apartment? You have to do a double take before you can confirm that yes, it is in fact him.

It’s late, and it’s only you, Suna, and the tired store manager. Though, at this moment, it feels like it’s only the two of you in this world.

“Oh. Hey, y/n,” Suna says casually, flashing you his famous smirk— the one that has his fans screaming and crying. He’s on his knees, reading the back of a granola cereal.

Suna turns back to the aisle in front of him, finally placing a box into his basket. Your brain registers it as your favorite flavor (the unhealthy, chocolate-y type that you’re sure athletes shouldn’t be eating).

What a coincidence.

“What are you doing here?”

You live on the edge of Tokyo, an unfortunate 30 minute subway ride to get to the sports arena you’re working at. And you know, from Suna’s player profile, that he lives in a luxurious high-ceiling apartment only a few blocks away from there.

“What do you mean?” Suna asks, frowning. He seems genuinely confused.

Are you the crazy one?

“Oh, it’s just… so random, you know?”

Your throat is tightening now and you feel unable to even swallow.

There are alarms blaring inside of your head, as if every fiber is irrationally telling you to run.

Suna glares at you, sharp eyes studying your smaller stature.

God. Another reason why you don’t like this man— he’s just too difficult to communicate with.

“You live quite far away, right?”

Seconds pass and you’re beginning to worry you’ve said something wrong or offensive when Suna finally stands, sighing as he turns toward the registers.

“No. I just moved to Kamikitazawa.”

You feel that tingle again.

“What a coincidence!” You say, recovering quickly.

Fuck. You sound especially stupid right now.

But could you help it? Suna, a multi-millionaire, moved into your apartment building? The one inhabited by broke college students and poor retirees?

Was he struggling financially? Did he have a secret child like some rumors alleged? Wait, is he—

“I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but whatever it is, you’re wrong.”

Suna and you are standing at the cash register now, and he turns to gently smile at you. You feel yourself softening.

Why were you scared, anyways? He’s a world-famous athlete and model.

Your premonitions have been wrong in the past— like when you thought your boss, Kuroo, would be upset with you accidentally deleting his PC files.

“I see,” you murmur, “well… the apartment is kind of… there’s a lot of problems, you know?”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. You sound like a broken radio.

There's an awkward silence as you and Suna both try to find the words to say.

This is why you hate talking to him, he expects you to do all the work!

"You should know that the third elevator isn't that good. It always gets stuck on floor two. And the garbage chute at the end of every hall is kind of hard to open. You have to," you make a pulling motion, "really yank, ya know?"

Silence. Suna stares at you blankly.

You're just an absolute loser, aren't you?

He's gonna cringe, or worse, tell your advisor that you're being overfamiliar with him, an athlete 5 years your senior…

As you stand in your cheap winter boots, shivering, Suna suddenly laughs.

It's not the quiet chuckle you see him release when he's joking with Komori, but a head-throwing, mouth widening laugh.

"Uh..." you stutter, nervous.

It takes a full minute before he finally stops, silently pink at the face.

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind," he says, lifting his shopping basket.

You nod repeatedly, nerves subsiding.

"Wanna walk back together?" Suna asks.

You hesitantly nod. Why not? It's late and dark, and though the neighborhood is calm, it never hurts to have a walking buddy.

On the walk home, to your surprise, Suna begins to talk about his team and compliments you for your article on the top liberos. You’ve never seen this side of him. There’s a reason why he’s so beloved— he’s a mystery.

You’re nearly zoning out as the two of you reach your apartment complex.

"Am I boring you?" Suna suddenly asks.

It's such an unexpected question, you falter for a second.

"No! I'm just... I feel relaxed. I like hearing your voice," you say, surprised.

Suna lets out a sigh of relief as he punches in the door code to the building.

"So. As I was saying, you want me to give you a ride tomorrow?"

"What?”

"A ride. To the arena." He says, enunciating every word as if you're a child.

"It's okay," you start, “I—”

"Take the subway, yeah. But it's a hassle, right?"

No, it's not. In fact, it's pretty nice, seeing strangers off to their desired destinations.

But it's as if he can read your mind.

"I’ll give you a ride."

It's not a question anymore.

"Alright," you murmur.

The short journey to your floor is now awkward, and you’re wishing you had turned down his offer to walk together.

The two of you are almost at the end of the hallway now, at your apartment door. To your horror, Suna doesn’t continue walking.

Instead, he simply turns around and reaches for the doorknob of the apartment just across from you.

Strangely, you’re just now noticing just how narrow and dark this hallway is.

Under the cheap fluorescent lights, you can only see the man in front of you. Suna’s pale hands flex as he easily readjusts his heavy grocery bags, reminding you he could take you out in a moment.

“Wow. Looks like we’re neighbors, huh?” Suna says, stepping into his flat.

You’re blinking up towards him, breath cut short.

“See you tomorrow, y/n.”

Funny. He didn’t sound surprised.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're just tying your hair when the doorbell rings.

"y/n, you ready?"

Who would’ve imagined hearing the Suna Rintaro’s voice at 9 AM.

You sigh as you take a final glance into the mirror. You couldn’t completely hide the dark eye circles from your lack of sleep— who’d be able to sleep after learning a celebrity lives practically next door?

Taking a deep inhale, you push open your front door.

You instantly feel yourself healing as you take in Suna. It’s a similar effect to watching your favorite idols perform on stage— good looks work wonders on your tired body.

Suna leans against the wall, wearing a pair of black sweats and a thin blue hoodie. With a start, you can't help but notice it's almost a couple set with your blue sweater and black skirt.

"Good morning," he says, sliding his phone into his pocket. You nod in response.

As you walk down the hall together to the elevators, you can't help but flush. Is this what it'd be like to have a boyfriend? As a student dedicated to her craft, you’d never felt the urge to date, remaining single your entire life. You can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be Suna Rintaro’s.

“Oh! What’s this!” Kiana, a middle-aged woman, calls out as you and Suna wait for the elevator.

“y/n! You never told me you got a boyfriend! And such a handsome one, too! Oh, if I was only a little younger…”

You and Suna make eye contact and you blush, quickly turning towards the smiley woman, ready to retort.

“We’re—” You barely make out a word before Suna suddenly takes your hand.

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Suna Rintaro, y/n’s boyfriend. I just moved into apartment 306.”

At his words, both your and Kiana’s eyes widen.

Yours in confusion, hers in wonder as she recognizes the handsome stranger.

“I know you! I know you! You’re Suna, from that team! Oh, my son is such a fan! I can't believe you're living here! He’ll be so excited."

As Suna and Kiana make small talk, you try to discreetly shake your sweaty hand out of Suna’s grasp. To your bewilderment, he continues gripping onto it, so hard you can feel his short fingernails digging into your soft skin.

To your relief, the elevator chimes, and as Suna waves goodbye (you do too, out of habit), you gasp as he yanks you into the elevator.

"What was that?" You ask, nervously looking up at your ‘boyfriend.’

Suna’s eyes are hard as he stares down at you, but he’s glowing all the same, as if he’d just received a gift.

“Saying we’re a couple. What was that about?”

Suna hums innocently.

"I just thought it would be most convenient to tell her that. People will see us together from now on."

No, they won't.

“It would confuse them to have to explain you’re an intern.”

Was that so complicated?

But with his mischievous smirk and the way he taps his foot against the elevator floor, you just can’t find the courage to refute.

“Alright… but could you let go?” You ask uncomfortably.

"Ah, right," he says, letting you free.

You rub your hands together, easing the circulation back.

Strangely, it feels especially cold without his grip on you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Wake up."

Awakening with a start, you rub your eyes.

You can't help but admit you could get addicted to free rides with Suna.

His car is just too nice; the seats are fluffy and he turned on the heater to just the right temperature and there's soft piano playing from the speakers.

How long have you been out?

Taking in your surroundings, you're surprised to find you're already at the Tokyo Volleyball Arena. You almost jump in shock as you realize what’s warming your lap— a box of your favorite strawberry waffles.

“What’s this?” You question as Suna wordlessly hands you a fork.

"I thought you might be hungry.”

Suna slides a cup into your open hand— matcha.

So he is a nice man, after all.

“Wow, Suna! Let me please pay you back!”

Your stomach grumbles as you take a bite of the sweet breakfast.

“No, no, it’s on me.”

How could you make it up to him? Maybe you should bake him cookies or something… you shift in your seat, frowning as you realize your bare thigh is strangely damp. Rubbing your thighs together, your eyebrows furrow.

“Oh,” Suna says, biting into his scrambled eggs, “sorry. That was me, I got some coffee on you while you were sleeping, so I wiped it away," he says sheepishly, gesturing towards the pack of wet wipes in the glove compartment.

He looks embarrassed, avoiding eye contact, so you don't push it any further.

He's kind of cute, you think.

It kind of feels too perfect– the plush comfort of Suna’s luxury car, the sweetness of the waffles, and the delicious matcha, albeit slightly salty.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, y/n, which movie should we watch?" Suna calls from your couch.

You're in the kitchen, preparing popcorn in your small microwave.

"Studio Ghibli!" You shout back, stirring the hot chocolate, “I have a whole bunch downloaded, just choose one.”

It's become a regular occurrence for the two of you to spend much of your free time together. At first, Suna had gently coaxed you into spending time with you under the guise of doing more research for the article you’re writing about him, but now you’ve grown to genuinely enjoy his company.

From morning rides to office lunches to casual dinners, it's like your life has been consumed by Suna. Your gut had been wrong, after all, because Suna treats you like a girlfriend— although you’d long shook away that silly thought— he’d never see a younger, broke student that way.

But despite your brain knowing everything is just fine, your heart has yet to be rewired. It still pounds with discomfort, as if it knows that fundamentally, something’s wrong.

You just can’t identify or place a label on that problem.

More recently, you’ve been getting hit with strong deja vu from that one night at the grocery store months ago.

As if it’s only the two of you on this planet.

Sighing, you take your place next to Suna, glancing at your phone. It remains still, screen dark.

“What’s wrong?” Suna asks, frowning. He pushes up his black glasses, running his fingers through his damp hair.

You hesitate. It’s fine to share this, right? After all, it feels like Suna’s all you have right now.

“Well… I’m not sure why, but I think my friends are mad at me. For the past few months, they’ve been silent. They don’t really respond to me anymore, and when they do they just say they’re busy.”

Suna nods, reaching for your hand. You welcome the warmth of his fingers, blinking back tears.

“And even worse, my family hardly contacts me. I used to call my mom basically everyday. I think there’s something really wrong, Suna, I’m really worried.”

“How long has this been going on?” Suna has the movie paused now, full attention on you. He gently strokes your hair and the kind gesture has tears pooling in your eyes.

“For a few months… maybe… four? I didn’t realize it at first because of how busy I’ve been at work and with the article I’m writing on you,” you mumble, allowing Suna to embrace you.

He’s gently rocking you back and forth now, rubbing your back, whispering kind words into your ear, telling you it’s okay and they’re probably just busy too…

Minutes pass before you finally look up, eyes widening as you take in his facial expression.

Despite his sweet words, Suna’s eyes are completely blank and there’s a questionable, small smile on his face. You barely recognize him.

“y/n?”

You blink, and take in an inaudible breath as you stare at Suna.

He cocks his head, confused. He looks at you with nothing but affection and concern, thin lips pressed into a frown.

Your heartbeat slows as you realize that, yet again, you’d just been seeing and feeling things wrong— whenever you’re around Suna, it’s as if you lose sense of your surroundings.

Smiling, you sniffle as you wipe away your tears.

“Sorry for getting emotional at movie night.”

Suna grins, giving you a final gentle hug before turning back to the television.

“Don’t be. I’m always here for you, y/n.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Q: Suna, this question has been long requested by your fanbase. How do you express love?

A: Dedication. I give my all to my lover, no questions asked.

Oh, and I don’t like to share.

There’s suddenly a knock at your door, causing you to jump. You put down your laptop, where your open article draft sits nearly complete.

The lightning storm outside has you shaking and you just wish Suna was here, holding you and laughing at his silly responses to your even stupider interview questions.

Another knock at the door.

Strange— Suna’s practice runs for extra long today for his upcoming tournament. Maybe he finished early.

“Suna, why didn’t you call before practice finished? We could’ve gone out for dinner,” you scold as you pull open the door.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Standing in front of you is your furious older sister, drenched from the rainstorm outside.

“Oh my god! Come in!” You say, alarmed. You reach towards her wrist, but she remains planted in place.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

She’s angrier than you’ve ever seen her.

“How could you tell us to fuck off? You really think your journalism is that important? Your writing isn’t more important than family, you asshole! It’ll never be important!”

Taking a deep breath, your sister lets go, immediate regret evident on her face. She opens her mouth to apologize, but you’re not having any of it.

Anger is coursing through your body now and you shove your sister away, causing her to stumble against Suna’s door.

Your family has never supported your career— from when you were just a child, you’d had to work hard for your own future.

So this is why they had shunned you? Because they can’t stand seeing you successful? Because you had moved away from the countryside to make something out of yourself in the city?

Tears stream down your face as you tremble.

“My writing is important,” you whisper. Your sister nods quickly, opens her mouth again—

“Don’t come by anymore. Don’t consider me a part of the family anymore.”

“No, I’m sorry— I think there’s a miscommunication, y/n! Wait!”

Slamming the door on her shocked face, you stumble towards the couch.

It feels as though you’re going to die— the room spins as your lungs strive for air and your vision is becoming increasingly blurry.

The sound of rain and your sister pounding on the door intertwine, and as you bury your head into a pillow, you really just wish Suna was at your side.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“y/n?”

Someone’s tugging at your sleeve, and you glance up, blinking uncomfortably at the bright lights of the living room. There’s dried tear streaks on your face and you’re sure you look like a miserable ogre, but Suna looks at you with nothing but compassion as he hugs you, alarmed.

He’s slightly damp—probably a combination of sweat from practice and the rain outside—but you hold onto him eagerly as he eases you onto his lap.

“What happened?”

You shake your head, explaining what had happened in the few hours when he’d been gone.

Suna’s furious on your behalf, jaw tight and fists clenched.

“Thank god I told your sister to fuck off. She was standing at your door, yelling curses and threatening to call the police,” he mutters.

Tears spring to your eyes again. This only confirms the reality of your life now— your family (and probably friends, too) absolute despise you.

“Don’t worry, y/n. I’ll always be here for you,” Suna whispers.

His words are somewhat like a relaxant to you. Taking a deep breath, you lean into his chest, sighing.

“I don’t think I can write anymore, Suna. I don’t want to. What have I been working towards my whole life?”

Suna remains silent for a moment, studying your sorrowful face, before leaning in to brush his nose against yours. Your eyes shift, admiring his gorgeous olive ones.

“Your journalism is amazing, y/n. And… if you hadn’t worked so hard, we might’ve never met, right?”

You smile sadly.

“I guess…”

“y/n, how about you wrap up your article tonight? You’re almost done, aren’t you?”

You gesture towards your open laptop on the coffee table.

“It’s done, but it’s shit. My sister’s right, it’s not worth anything,” you say, embarrassed. You’ve always known you were talentless, which is why you’ve always worked harder. But it amounted to nothing in the end.

You press your cold hands against your burning eyes as Suna picks up your laptop, skimming through what you’ve written about him.

If even he hates it… that’s it. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to go on.

“y/n, will you look at me?”

Suna’s gently tugging at your hands covering your face. Biting your lip nervously, you let him take your hands into one of his.

“Want my honest opinion?” He asks, placing the laptop onto your lap. You nod, staring down at the bright screen.

“This is the best thing anyone’s written about me.”

You close your eyes, shaking your head.

“Don’t lie.”

“y/n. I’m serious. This shows exactly the side I wanted the public to know about me. It’s intimate, but written formally enough to be taken seriously by the media.”

When you don’t respond, Suna sighs sadly.

“I guess you don’t want the opinion of a dumb athlete, though…”

Frantically, you look up, shocked.

“Of course not! Suna, your opinion is everything to me!”

Relief settles in your stomach as Suna grins, eyes shining.

“Really?”

“Of course! Thank you… That really means a lot to me.”

Suna nods, rambling about how much he loves that sentence here, the use of punctuation there…

“What’s wrong?” He asks, noticing you look down again.

“I… just feel like I have nobody but you, Suna.”

Suna smiles at you, waving towards the polaroids of your friends and family hung on the wall.

“I’m sure they’ll come around again, y/n.”

Your nose crinkles as you cringe at the photos. You want them gone. You want all of the references towards them gone.

You want to get out of here.

“I hate this apartment, actually. They helped me decorate it and everything,” you sigh.

“Well then, how about we move out together?”

You fiddle your thumbs, headache threatening to return.

“I don’t have that type of money,” you say, frustrated. It’s easy for a world-class athlete like him to just up and leave, but you’d never be able to, not unless you dropped out of school and found a job elsewhere.

“y/n, I’ve just remembered. I have an apartment near our stadium, right? How about you move there for the rest of your internship?”

You hesitate. Intruding into the home of a man you’re not even in a relationship with? While the offer is tempting…

“Don’t worry about anything, y/n. Don’t think too hard about it.”

Suna’s gently rubbing circles onto the side of your hands and you feel like melting away, exhausted.

All that crying and anger has truly taken a toll on you. Your eyelids flutter as you finally nod.

“Okay.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure?”

Now that it’s come to actually burning the photos, you’re hesitating. Aside from the few photographs on the walls, your apartment is completely bare, all of your belongings now residing in Suna’s luxury condo.

“y/n. You don’t need them anymore.”

You pause, the lighter in your hand feeling heavier by the second. With this, you’re truly erasing all parts of your former family and friends. Just then, your phone buzzes— you barely need to look at it to know it’s a string of curses from your ex-best friend.

Suna grimaces as he deletes the message, examining you out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re right, Suna. I don’t.”

You watch as the pictures go up in flames, holding back tears.

Looking around your now empty apartment, Suna wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“I always thought your walls would look better bare.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In and out.

There’s something so comforting about the way you breathe.

You’re lying motionless on Suna’s large bed, curled into a ball.

Adorable.

Sighing, Suna collapses next to you, admiring your eyebrows, the curve of your nose, your lips…

When was the last time he’d felt this content? Reaching out, Suna gently tucks your hair behind your ears, admiring the small s shaped earrings adoring them.

Bringing you here was the best option. It’d taken him a little longer than he’d hoped, but now you were truly in the palm of his hand.

He’d almost slipped up a few times (your gut was much smarter than you) but everything had worked out, hadn’t it.

Since the day he’d first met you nearly a year ago, Suna knew you’d be his.

He’s not sure why, but there’s this thing about him— sometimes, when he sees something, he wants it.

And he’ll do anything to make sure it’s entirely his.

You mumble in your sleep, rolling over to face the large windows that present the city of Tokyo below his feet.

He has it all now.

His phone vibrates— messages from your concerned father.

Rolling his eyes, Suna silently reaches over to your phone, which lies innocently next to your small hand, and unlocks it (the password being his birthday, obviously).

Without hesitation, Suna begins wiping out all traces of the code he’s implanted into your phone.

There would be no more reason to reroute your messages to himself anymore.

Next, Suna makes sure all of your family and friends’ contacts are blocked.

Ensuring your safety is a top priority of his.

He squeezes your device in his large hand, wondering if he should just break it.

If Suna had it his way completely, he’d rather you not have a phone at all.

Tossing your phone back onto your side of the bed, Suna smirks as he unlocks his own device.

Desperate messages from your sister pop up, warning you of your tall neighbor, he threatened to kill me if i didn’t leave y/n please get away from him and go to the police!

Suna slides his thumb across the screen, removing the messages from his screen, and disconnects his phone from yours.

After all, you wouldn’t be getting contacted by those nuisances anymore.

Almost done, then he can sleep peacefully with you—Suna sends the email he’s been working on: a PDF attachment of your final draft of your article on him and a short message of your resignation as an intern, written by yours truly.

Turning over, Suna locks the bedroom door, smiling.

There’s no need for anyone else.

Not when he’s always going to be here for you.

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu #suna x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro yandere #haikyuu yandere

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yourbpdgf · 1 year

Text

obsession ?

warnings: obsessive!suna x obsessive!reader, stalking, yandere behaviors, weed, alcohol, fire play?, knife play, making out, choking, hickeys, fingering, pussy eating, dick sucking, public sex?, rough sex, pet names: little one, bunny, bun, pretty,, etc .

you and suna were at your spot, the rooftop of an abandoned building beautifully overlooking all of hyogo prefecture. you were sat in his lap, sharing a blunt, enjoying eachothers presence.

suna, rin to you, has been your boyfriend for about a month and half now and youre obsessed.

you love everything about him from his dark brown hair, his mesmerizing eyes, his physical appearance to his sarcastic personality.

but in addition to your love for him you also know everything about him. full name, home address, social security number, mother and fathers name, to his favorite song, color, number, and everything else.

you memorized his whole schedule and adjusted your routes to class to make sure youd pass his locker everytime.

you have his instagram password. you go through his following daily, his likes, his archive, everything.

if its about suna rintaro you need to know.

you stalked him a little too, just to gain more insight into his home life, you reasoned.

you saw all the nasty things hes done behind locked doors. you saw how he masturbates to your instagram highlights. you even heard how he moans your name as he cums all over the screen of his phone.

youd be lying if you said you never done the same thing.

you fantasized about the things you want him to do to you too, more than any regular human should.

your late nights are spent with a dildo, the most similar looking dildo to sunas you could find, strapped to a fuck machine fucking into you at max speed. clamps vibrating on both of your nipples and your shaky hands holding a hitachi wand to your clit. you cum every 2 minutes and when you do you scream and moan for your rin rin.

but little do you know suna is just like you but worse.

he does all you do but even more constantly.

in addition to that, anybody who dares flirt with you is either jumped, publicly humiliated or exposed, sometimes all three. nobody will never know it was him though.

hes protective. nobody is allowed to come within a 2 foot radius of you when hes around. oh and you need to hold his hand at all times, too. a little one like you gets lost easily.

and most nights hes at your window, watching you moan for him, like his good little slut.

despite all of this, you two have yet to be intimate, and sunas trying to change that today.

now back to the present...

suna passes you the blunt with a heavy sigh. he speaks, breaking the peaceful silence you both built, but not before he takes a nice swig of the tequila you brought for the two of you, "let me try something."

"go ahead." you reply. you trust suna and youre not one to ask too many questions anyway.

suna loves that about you, he already doesnt like talking so it saves him words. though even if you did ask, he wouldnt mind explaining just for you.

once you pass the blunt back suna takes a drag, cups your face and pulls it to his. you get the idea at this point. you peck his lips before opening your mouth so he can transfer his smoke to you.

suna smiles and you do too, "such a smart bunny, catching on so quick. maybe you deserve a lil reward."

he puts the blunt out on your zip up, and ashes spill onto your neck. they burn on your skin and instead of pain you feel pleasure. the burn is good. suna throws the extinguished blunt to the side.

youre a little too high to realize him snaking his hands up your skirt, into your panties until he slowly starts to rub your clit. you cant protest though, not that you wanted to, because sunas lips are on yours.

youre still kissing when his hand moves to your throat and gives it a squeeze. before you can do anything about it your mouth opens, tongue lolling out. suna takes advantage and begins to suck on your tongue.

you stay like that for a moment before suna moves down to your neck leaving purple bruises as he travelled to your collarbone. he comes up to speak,

"good little bun. be good for me and thisll be good for both of us, kay?"

"mkay, rin rin."

he unzips your zip up, not knowing you had no bra or shirt on under. when he realizes he kisses your lips once more before sucking and swirling his tongue against the harden buds on your chest.

his fingers stop their circles on your clit, eliciting a high pitched whine from you, and slip into your pussy. two fingers, after a few pumps, turn into three.

until suna suddenly stops. you whine and complain as suna lifts you up and lays you down on the roof, positioning himself between your thighs.

"please rin rin, pleasee!"

"patience, little one. youre gonna like this."

he reaches into his pocket and grabs a pocket knife, tracing it along your thighs, cool metal making you moan. the sensation to die for. suna then slips it under the waistband of your panties and cuts them off. the knife goes back into his pocket and his face goes into your pussy.

he slurps, spits, swallows and suckles as you squirm and sob. he enjoys every noise you make and every twitch your body convulses. it doesnt last long though because as soon as he plunges his fingers back into you you squirt all over his fingers and face.

he gives you a second before he sits you up. he takes your hands and guides them to take his sweats and boxers down. your hands, with sunas guidance, pull them just under his balls, exposing his 8 inch cock to you, fully hard.

"open." suna commands,, and you do.

he puts his tip to your lips and automatically you suck. you swirl your tongue and give kitten licks to his tip, making sure to give it ample attention before moving to his shaft.

when you do finally move down to his length, you suck along the sides before placing half his length down your throat, going up and down. your head moves in a wave motion, eventually you take his whole cock inside the wet cavern that is your mouth.

"mhmm.. just like that, pretty. youre so good at this. youre such a perfect little thing just for me."

sunas head is thrown back, his hands the only things keeping him up. you really start to hear him moan as you hollow your cheeks, swirl your tongue, bob your head, and play with his balls all at the same time.

"...mine, mine, mine. nobody else can have you."

low grunts, soft moans and sighs that can only be described as pretty all come from sunas mouth. you giggle at his cuteness, the vibrations from your action immediately go to his dick and push him over the edge.

sunas big, veiny hands grab the back of your head and push you down his dick, forcing you to let his cum leak down your throat until he lets go. you swallow.

rintaro takes his squirt covered shirt off before laying you back down on your back. quickly, he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes himself in. with each thrust he goes deeper, deeper and deeper.

rin grabs your ankles, holding them over your head, he has you in a mating press. he angles himself to hit that one spongey spot you love. how does he know where it is? all the times he watched you try ever so hard to hit it with your little dildo. maybe he should make this known to you...

"im way better than that little fuck machine, arent i, little one?"

"huuhh..? how do yo- fuckk! know about that?"

"answer me, bunny."

"yes! way way better! way better than any of my toys! please go deeper, rin harder!!"

rintaro slams into you over and over until youre both ready to cum. and when you do you do it together.

you both lay there for a while, eventually you put your clothes back on. you both drink for a little longer until suna walks you home and spends the night at your house <3.

im back... maybe. i feel like everytime im here i write a fic to self project then leave. wtv 🤷‍♀️. btw this rushed so dnt come for me.

everything ???

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depravitycentral · 11 months

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Haikyuu Dick Headcannons Pt. 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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glassehun · 1 month

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𐙚˙✧˖What is Love? She is⋆

Pairing- Any character x reader / anyone of your choice ࿔*:･

It's the male part of "What is love?"Y'all already know I am an angst girlie so lol

TW- mention of death and blood, angst, no heppy ending

Love was never suppose to be her, Love can never be her, but the way she smiles, the way she looks at me and the way she talks to me.

Love was always suppose to be her, she doesn't follow anyone, she doesn't hear the pathetic excuse this world gives for people, she lives by herself but I can't love her, I'll kill her in the agony of waiting for me to say I love her. I don't want her to cling to me and my love because it is always with her , always but I can't give it to her, not yet. Not yet… But when..

I felt her dying in my arms. Her eyes red ,her clothes red and my hands red. She reached for me, her one hand softly creasing my cheeks i wanted to relax in her palm i wanted to relax in her arms, be warm forever. "Don't cry…never cry for me, this is how things were suppose to go...the bad guy looses remember". My eyes are red I didn't know she pointed it out laughing in between coughing more bloods, I can't save her, I shouldn't save her because I am the "hero". "hey don't-" she smiles at me yet again but instead of causing the flutters it causes pain in my heart.

I look at her like I could bring the stars and the whole universe at her feet, yet she closes her eyes to leave me behind in this world, in this dystopia. "In another lifetime, my sweet_____" is all i can say before i bring her lifeless body near my chest and try to warm it. Love is her, love is how I think about her, Love is the way I look at her, love is me waiting for her, Love is the way she looked at me before dying in my arms… Love is me not being able to live in this world without her, love is me dying in her arms because that is the warmest place for me, with her.

a/n- I will not even edit this I am lazy goodbye

#angst #sakusa x reader #anyway #any character #hq suna #yandere hq #kuroo #ushijima #ushijima fluff #haikyuu x imagines #attack on titan #i love angst #Spotify #bye

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cowboylikebarbie · 1 year

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Guy I’m really desperate here ! I want to find a suna smut where I read in maybe 2020/2021, reader is lesbian/queer and she’s in love with Aran sister or girlfriend ? or something , suna is her bsf and he kinda tryna fuck/turn her straight it was noncon/dubcon

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #suna smut #haikyuu noncon #haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu #yandere

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milaisreading · 2 years

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I really want to write for Haikyuu rn, but I have somewhat of a writer's block and I like doing requestsa lot more tbh.

If someone has any requests, please send :)

Rules:

Please be 18+, otherwise I won't look much into the request if it's Yandere or a more mature theme. Requests are only open for Haikyuu now, for these characters, but you can request for others who are not on the list. Just know that this request might take longer to be done. Don't be disrespectful.

Tag list:

Please let me know if you want to be added to my tag list :)

MASTERLIST:

Characters I write for:

Karasuno

Kageyama Tobio

Hinata Shoyo

Sawamura Daichi

Sugawara Koushi

Azumane Asahi

Nishinoya Yuu

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Tsukishima Kei

Seijoh

Oikawa Tooru

Iwaizumi Hajime

Matsukawa Issei

Hanamaki Takahiro

Nekoma

Tetsuro Kuroo

Kozume Kenma

Yaku Morisuke

Haiba Lev

Yamamoto Taketora

Fukurodani

Bokuto Koutarou

Akaashi Keiji

Shiratorizawa

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Tendou Satori

Semi Eita

Goshiki Tsutomu

Yamagata Hayato

Shirabu Kenjiro

Inarizaki

Kita Shinsuke

Aran Ojiro

Suna Rintaro

Miya Osamu

Miya Atsumu

Itachiyama

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Komori Motoya

Kamomedai

Kourai Hoshiumi

Sachiro Hirugami

MSBY BLACK JACKALS

Shugo Meian

Schweiden Adlers

Hirugami Fukuro

Romero Nicollas

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kazuwhora · 2 years

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im writing for haikyuu and you better believe im keeping it out of the tags because that fandom scares the fuck out of me

#maybe i'll put it in the tags who knows #anyways #gonna be yandere!suna for viva

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yanderenightmare · 5 months

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TW: NSFW, yandere, stepcest

fem reader

Creep Step-bro – who steals the keys to your shared bathroom on account that you use too much time in there. He’ll barge in when you’re in the shower in the mornings to take a piss even though you squeal at him to get out. You’ll turn around to hide, still needing to wash out the shampoo from your hair, annoyed “ughs” and curse words leaving you – and he’ll sneak a snide look, watching the soapsuds and water run over the plump of your ass, glossy skin, perfect curve, down between your thighs and legs.

When you grab the towel, you sneer at him, “asshole,” before stomping out. He’ll shrug his shoulders, brushing his teeth with jaded eyes – casually pushing his hips forward against the sink, acting like he doesn’t have a boner he plans on rubbing out to the pretty picture of your wet naked body along with that cute scowl on your face.

You’re practically begging for it walking about the house in those little pajama shorts – so tiny he can see the crease of your cheek, so tight he can see the puffy outline of your cunt. Not to mention the loose tank top you wear with it. Sometimes without a bra on. The round of your soft titties going jump on every step you take.

Of course, he’s going to use any excuse to brush up against you. Coming behind you when you stand in the kitchen – prepping snacks for you and the gaggle of girlfriends held up in your room. He’ll push his crotch against the fat of your ass, pretending to reach for a bowl in the cupboard above you, and you’ll whine out something like “ew, gross, personal space-” but he’ll only savor the struggle even more – only raising his brow at you when you turn around with a strict pointer pressed up beneath his chin, telling him with a frown how he better not perv on any of your friends.

Shit- you’re so clueless…

Clueless as to how he robs your panties from the laundry bin and fucks the silky lace until they fray from his rough handlings – how he winds it so tight it strangles his cock, scrunching his face while imagining it’s your tight pussy before he blows his messy load into the dainty thing – loving the thought of you cluelessly walking around in them.

Sure, it’s been washed since then, but still…

JJK – Toji, Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Mahito, Choso, Yuta

BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso, Shoto, Kirishima, Denki

BLLK - Reo

AOT – Eren

CSM – Denji

HQ - Kuro, Kageyama, both Miya twins, Suna, Tendou

#nightmare rambles #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore

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dolliestfairy · 9 months

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𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑈𝑛𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝐹𝑎𝑤𝑛 ‌ིᨴּ ˒˒۪ 🦌ೀ

𔓘 Tw: Kidnapping, Noncon, Forced breeding, Pregnancy, Bondage, and a little of housewife kink ig? This fics is kinda suffocating tho. read at your own risk. Chubby reader fics with no skintone of reader mentioned.

𔓘 Authors note: this fanfic is kinda fcked up. this more like a Psychopath Hunter x Fawn fairy than a yandere. some may found this kind of disturbing so.. if this isnt your taste then please gtfo..

Minors do Not interact!

i'm thinking abt yandere hunter who is obsessed with chubby!fem!reader who is a fawn fairy.

yandere hunter who swears on his thumbs that he will kill anyone who tries to take away his wife from him who tries to hurt you.

yandere hunter who doesnt realize his obsessed nature over you. and called you "delusional" for calling him a crazy person.

yandere hunter who kidnapped you as soon as you placed one of your foot in his traps. shusing your cries while saying he would take care of you after.

yandere hunter who wants you to be his wife and bear his child. it doesnt matter if it was a mating season or not, he would try and no one could stop him.

yandere hunter who puts a rope above your chest and under your chubby belly just so you cant fly away.

yandere hunter who is almost dying from happiness because he just cant handle the cuteness of you with tears rolling down onto your tears.

yandere hunter who showed no mercy on you while his cock sliding into your pussy with an unexpected pace of speed. making you yelp.

yandere hunter whos one hand is on your mouth, covering you and muffling down your tears and cry, while his other hand plays with your nipple.

yandere hunter who suffocate you with affectionate after what all his done to you. shusing you and putting his plam hand on your cheeks and rubbing it while your body felt the cold air hitting every parts of your skin and wings, making you trembling.

yandere hunter who is 8 months later now is rubbing your swelled bellies, a bellies that now is filled with his unborn triplets. while he's thanking you for giving him this amount of happiness. which little did he know that he was far from a thing that was called "sane".

how can you even escape this madman when you're literally carrying his babies at the moment?

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏~♡ The MadMans are : DABI, MAHITO, Shigaraki, SUKUNA, GOJO, Itachi, OVERHAUL, DILUC, PANTALONE, Nanami, Geto, Kuroo, Suna, Tsukishima Kei, BACHIRA, OBITO, Sasuke, TOJI, Douma, Michael Kaiser, KAKUZU, KISAME, QIN SHI HUANG HOLY FUCKING SHIT, Alec, Hatake Kakashi, Horangi, Simon Ghost Riley, ALEJANDRO.

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saigethearies · 7 months

Text

saige’s terrortober presents…

trust me

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

alien!osamu miya x fem!reader

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

wc: 6.7k

18+ MINORS DNI

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

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

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

unless…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i was doing weapons,” asahi supplied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“where were you?”

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

“i was reading some samples in med bay.”

his eyes narrowed. “did anyone see you?”

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

would that make you look suspicious?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

was he defending you?

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

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

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

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

“you can’t be serious right now!”

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

“projecting,” suna corrected.

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

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

“if the shoe fits.”

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

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

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

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

there was really a killer amongst your ranks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ll show you a fucking-”

“get yer filthy hands off’a her.”

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

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

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

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

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

“ya alright, there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i think that could use some maintenance.”

_____

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

your safe haven amidst all of the suspense was osamu.

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

“buddy system, right?” he would say.

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

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

“shut yer trap, sunarin!”

“did you just not think to use toner?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“need any help?”

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

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

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

the emergency alarm.

you dropped your pen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

well, all of them except one.

not again…

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

“another body has been found.”

silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“unfortunately the perpetrator was wearing gloves.”

“damn,’ asahi sighed.

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

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

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

“neither did you,” suna said.

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

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

all eyes turned to the remaining unnamed person.

“terushima, where were you?”

the man blinked. “i was doing weapons.”

“did anyone see you?”

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

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

“second time this happened,” oikawa commented.

the pierced man sent the brunette a glare.

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

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

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

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

“what the fuck.”

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

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

“guys, come on!”

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

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

“no,” his superior said slowly.

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

_____

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

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

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

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

well, almost.

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

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

“what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

he frowned. “i don’t believe ya.”

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

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

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

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

“i’m okay, really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“so damn beautiful.”

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

“whatever ya want, darlin’.”

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

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

“what are you doing?”

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

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

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

“ ‘samu,” you squeaked out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“did so good, pretty girl, so good.”

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

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

“ya think yer ready?”

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

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

oh…

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

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

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

you gulped.

“...that’s not gonna fit, ‘samu.”

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

“but-”

“ya trust me, right?”

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

“yeah, i trust you.”

another soft kiss met your lips. “good.”

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

“relax, doll, ya gotta relax.”

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

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

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

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

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

“oh.”

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

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

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

he parted from your lips.

“ya feel it, darlin’?”

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

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

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

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

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

osamu chuckled, kissing the crown of your head.

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

_____

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

the emergency alarm figured it was up for the challenge.

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

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

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

“hopefully.”

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

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

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

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

what came next broke you even more, though.

“kanoka is dead, too.”

two murders.

two murders on the same damn day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“one of us?” you said in disbelief.

“yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

oikawa and asahi turned to you.

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

you bit your lip.

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

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

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

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

oikawa and asahi both blanched at your statement.

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

“she’s wrong! we would nev-”

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

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

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

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

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

“you alright?”

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

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

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

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

“i told ya t’ fuckin’ wait a while-”

wait for what?

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

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

please be dreaming.

“ya still nearly got us exposed.”

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

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

the twins were the killers.

osamu was a murderer.

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

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

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

“darlin’, listen to me-”

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

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

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

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

“yer no fun, ‘samu!”

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

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

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

you knew something was still off. you knew.

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

this was all fucked.

this was all so fucked.

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

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

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

“damn, that’s tough.”

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

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

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

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

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

“don’t fuckin’ touch her.”

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

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

“sunarin’s right! c’mon, ‘samu!”

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

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

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

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

“watch it,” osamu warned his brother.

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

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

you felt his fingers intertwine with your still shaking ones.

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

_____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

#saige’s terrortober #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x you #miya osamu x you #osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu miya smut #miya osamu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq x reader

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depravitycentral · 1 year

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Yandere! Rintarou Suna General Profile

Yandere! Rintarou Suna x fem! reader

Cw: kidnapping, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of hypothermia/death, rin locks you in a freezer but don't worry it hurts him too </3, stalking, voyeurism, non-consensual recording/photography, harassment, possessiveness, mentions of non-con, Stockholm Syndrome, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10.0 K

DARLING PROFILE:

Social

Despite Rintarou’s usually quiet, apathetic personality, he finds himself drawn to people who are more talkative and outgoing.

It’s not that he necessarily wants to converse himself, but it’s a relief for him to know that his darling is able to express themself, and is able to carry on a conversation with little to no unease.

He likes listening to their words, letting himself be entertained and guided along in a conversation. He’s not normally the instigator in conversations; he prefers to chime in when he feels like it, and while his darling doesn’t need to be constantly talking, he’d like a darling that can take the lead in a conversation.

Honestly, it’s almost impressive to Rintarou, and the fact that his darling doesn’t mind being the talkative and social one in the relationship only feeds his more obsessive tendencies - the more they talk and ramble about what they love, the more information he learns and is able to store away for future reference.

He loves learning about his darling, and he honestly could sit for hours and just listen to them talk and talk.

It’s therapeutic in a way to the middle blocker, and he absolutely adores this aspect of his darling.

Smart

Rintarou himself is quite analytical and intelligent, and as a result he has little patience with those who might not be as blessed. He was somewhat lazy throughout his schooling; always slacking off and falling asleep in class, but only because his natural smarts saved his ass and allowed him to be lenient on studying and listening to the teachers.

And even throughout his professional career, Rintarou’s had to rely on this intelligence to help him perform and successfully read his opponents in the midst of points.

And while he doesn’t need a partner that’s a genius (though, he doesn’t mind), having a partner who is at least knowledgeable is a requirement for him. He doesn’t have the time and patience to deal with people that he has to explain his jokes to, or that aren’t able to keep up with conversations happening around them.

He finds it to be a major attraction when his darling is able to contribute meaningful things to a discussion, and in particular if they were to showcase their knowledge in their given field to Rintarou.

He'd stare with such intensity as they explain the foundations of their job and field, him hanging onto their every word as he notes the way they look so happy and excited, how their face brightens up and fuck he wants to kiss them so badly.

He just really likes the idea of a smart, capable darling, and while he likes the idea of taking care of them, he wants to know that he’s not wasting his time on a complete idiot.

Playful

He can be quite teasing and witty, and having a darling that can go along with his jokes and deadpan comments would be an immense turn on for the brunette.

He likes the idea of someone that can keep up with all of the shit that comes out of his mouth; he’s selective about his words, but often they’re said in a teasing way, and having a darling that’s too sensitive to this would likely not pan out well.

He needs someone who is able to take it and dish it out back - they don’t have to be the funniest or the quickest thinker, but a darling who will laugh at his words and throw in a remark here or there to counter him would be wonderful.

People who are more meek and nervous when talking to others aren’t his ideal type, and while it’s possible for his darling to have aspects of this in their personality, Rintarou mainly falls for those who are more assertive with their words. And while his darling doesn’t need to be the most confident in themselves, they need to be able to put up with his rather snarky attitude.

Knowing that his darling has his back is something that Rintarou thrives on, and it only further proves to him how perfect they are for one another.

Kind

While Rintarou isn’t inherently mean, there’s just something about the honesty of compliments when they leave his darling’s lips that makes him smile.

His own personality is snarky, full of teasing remarks and a rather objective view of the events around him, and so to have someone who is naturally more adept at being honest and welcoming towards others is stubbornly adorable to him.

Of course, he’s internally a flustered, dazed mess when they tell him how talented he is at volleyball, how smart he is, how his hair is so uniquely him. His heart is racing in his chest and his palms are growing sweaty, the sound of his darling’s voice complimenting him permanently etched into his memory, but on the exterior he stays the same blank faced man he always is.

There’s just something so disarming about what his darling says, and just when he thinks his beloved can’t get any better, any more perfect, they let something slip out that makes his heart melt, and he’s once again struck with the question of how he got lucky enough to have a soulmate so wonderful.

His darling inspires him to try and compliment them more too – he certainly notices all kinds of beautiful, attractive things they say and do, but as soon as he goes to say the words they get stuck on the tip of his tongue.

He wants to tell his darling that they’re gorgeous when they wear that shade of blue, but despite the number of times he practiced mentally and in the bathroom mirror that morning, he never seems to be able to.

And so, Rintarou would love a kind darling because they inspire him to be kind as well - Rintarou doesn’t know why it makes him happy, but he’ll be damned if he lets them slip away.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Possessive

While Rintarou isn’t particularly insecure, he’s more than aware that he isn’t the ‘ideal’ man.

He’s quiet, snarky, lanky, someone who prefers to simply watch and be more in the background. He knows he’s different from someone like his teammates, like his long time friends the Miyas, even as irritating as it may be to admit. He may be a professional athlete now, raking in money with every ball he hits, but he knows there’s more flashy, cooler players even on his own team.

He’s fully aware that he isn��t every girl’s dream guy, and this knowledge along with the sheer amount of desperation he feels for your love is a bit of an ugly mix.

He’s hyper aware of the fact that you likely aren’t aware of the depth of his feelings for you. He's sure that you’re blissfully ignorant to the way his heart nearly beats out of his chest the moment your name is mentioned, how his cheeks flush pink when he’s laying in bed imagining your soft body is in his arms, when he’s gulping harshly and trying to discreetly fix his pants before he walks into the café and sees you.

You likely aren’t aware of the way he’s taken to following you and thinking of you every moment of the day, but it doesn’t change the fact that Rintarou is thoroughly and completely hooked on you, utterly enraptured by every little thing you do, every little part of you that adds up to the woman he thinks he loves.

You may not know, but Rintarou wants you to be completely and utterly his, solely and only his girl, just as his heart is so desperately yearning for, just as he thinks of you in his mind. He’s sure you aren’t aware of his feelings because he purposefully tries to keep them concealed, but it doesn’t change the way an ugly feeling of rage simmers in his chest when another man approaches you, how his fists grow clammy and his eyes narrow when another guy is looking at you, when you get brought up in conversations that he happens to overhear.

He knows he doesn’t really have any grounds to feel jealous, that his hold and claim on you is purely in his mind, but Rintarou doesn’t fucking care. It’s still painful to imagine you with another man, to think of you smiling and laughing and getting flustered at the hands of someone else.

It makes him ill to think of you with someone who won’t love you like he does, who doesn’t know the real you as well as he does, who can’t provide for you and protect you like he can. It’s irritating as hell, and so Rintarou tries his best to keep other guys from being interested in you, to keep all other potential competition at bay so that when he’s finally ready to make a substantial move, you’ll feel that he’s your only choice.

He’s managed to weasel his way into your personal life, becoming a friend and accompanying you to nearly everything you do in public.

He’s subtly dropping hints that you’re not interested when he overhears others’ conversations, mentioning off-handedly that you’re already talking to someone (she’s always looking at her phone and smiling, you know what that means), that you’re not interested in a relationship (there’s this guy from her work who’s a volunteer firefighter that keeps trying to get with her – really hot, and if she’s saying no to him, then why would you ever be a yes?).

He’s even going so far as to lie about your sexuality just to get guys off of your trail, to keep you reserved for him and only him once the time is right.

Jealousy hits him in waves, difficult to ignore and counter once they’ve taken root in his gut, and while it’s a preventative measure more than anything to tip off those other guys who express interest in you, it’s still not enough.

Its never enough, if he’s being honest, because each time he sees someone like Atsumu or even Osamu approach you and look like such a better option, he’s seeing red and panicking, his mind running a mile a minute as he desperately tries to conjure up a plan to stop the impending doom, to keep you single and his.

Sabotaging any possible relationships is better than nothing, after all, but Rintarou still isn’t satisfied – he won’t be, really, until he’s finally stolen you away, made you his for the rest of your days, but in the meantime, he does what he can to keep the horribly overwhelming possessive thoughts at bay, to keep the urge to wrap you in his arms and hide you away from the world as dormant as possible.

And in doing this, a few new habits form – namely, he notices that the possessive and invasive thoughts tend to be stronger at night, when he’s lying alone in bed missing you and your body, wishing you were there to warm the sheets and press soft kisses against his jawline.

He’s missing you, finding himself using his pillow as a substitute for your body, even as pathetic and weird as it makes him feel. He notices it’s strongest then, which is why his whirling brain suddenly appraises an image that has his face turning pink, his body warming up, a small patch of sweat forming at his temples as he imagines the way you’d look with a network of small, dark hickeys against your neck and collarbones.

They’d be deep, sprinkled from behind your ears to the tops of your breasts, impossible to hide and marking you as fully, utterly his, his lover and partner to kiss and worship, his to mark up and claim, just as he so urgently wants to.

It’s a nice thought, really, and as his hand slides down his abdomen and he shakily exhales, Rintarou is content with the thought that one day he will paint you with his hickeys, that you’ll be wearing his marks like a necklace, the dark bruises decorating your skin like a fucking painting so that the world knows for absolute certainty that you’re the property of Rintarou Suna, that he owns you now and always.

So really, when you catch him staring at your collarbones the next day with his lips parted and his pupils blown wide, don’t be surprised – just as you shouldn’t be when you wake up in his basement, those fox-like eyes staring at you while his fingers itch with the urge to touch you.

He finds himself drifting into delusions about you much more than normal as his obsession carries on; ideas of keeping you locked away in his apartment, your pretty face smiling at him and hugging him when he comes home from practice, dinner on the stove and the TV already cued up to his favorite movie.

He’s imagining the way you’d tell him about your day and how much you missed him, how you’d smile at him and let the ring on your finger sparkle in the light as you ask him how his day went.

You’ll notice the way his eyes start lingering on your ring finger when you’re together, how his fingers seem to just be there, always nearby.

Don’t be surprised about how he starts referring to you more with ‘my’ in front of your name, calling you his friend, his coffee mate, his his his.

Don’t be surprised, because this isn’t anything new – Rintarou has always wanted to claim you as his, but now that he can?

Well, how can he not let all his possessive tendencies flourish once you’re all his?

Stalker

While he isn’t explicitly scared to talk to you or approach you, Rintarou is self aware enough to know that he isn’t exactly an extravert, that talking and making conversation isn’t his specialty.

He enjoys conversing with you, truly, but it’s hard to know where to take the conversation, how to make you laugh and smile (because fuck do you look pretty when you chuckle, when your chiming giggle hits his ears, and while Rintarou isn’t one to normally be easily flustered, there’s something about the pride that swirls in his chest when he makes you smile that has his cheeks flushing ever so slightly pink), how to flirt with you and make you flustered and sad to see him go.

He isn’t too confident in his abilities to woo you (despite Atsumu’s frequent and unsolicited advice and offers to teach him how), so he falls back on a different method of being in your presence, of spending time with you.

That is, it might not be as consensual or interactive as speaking with you, but stalking you gets the job done too, and that’s all he can really ask for.

Besides, there’s something to be said about getting to enjoy you in silence, of getting an unobstructed view into who you really are, when you think you’re alone and safe and having privacy in your own home.

You’re vulnerable like this, your true self as you slip into bed or cram for an upcoming project at work, and in a lot of ways Rintarou believes that this is a more valuable and real way of getting to know you, of getting to feed the insatiable desire in his heart to see you.

It’s more effective, in a lot of ways, if only because this way he spends prolonged periods of time observing, those narrow eyes fixated on your form as you hum and stretch after sitting a while at your desk, allowing the middle blocker to analyze the way your face scrunches up momentarily, how your shirt jumps up to expose a line of midriff above the hemline of your sweatpants, how you sigh and make a noise much too provocative for him to handle innocently.

(He’s gulping harshly, his fingers twitching and his knees feeling oddly weak as he relives memories of you way you gasp and cry out when you’re touching yourself, how your lips part into that pretty ‘o’ and your thighs twitch).

It’s more effective as he gets to watch the way you put together meals for yourself, leftovers from the night before and freezer-bake food items, quick and easy things that part of him wants to split with you (maybe, as you slice up the freshly oven-cooked frozen pizza, he could even feed a piece to you and tease you for having melted cheese on your cheek), while the other part wants to scold you for eating food that doesn’t benefit you much nutritionally.

He feels connected to you like this, like you’re really getting to spend time with one another, like you’re in your own little world and inviting him into your life, into you. It’s sweet, in a way, which is why Rintarou feels the need to document each little moment that has his heart clamoring in his chest, his throat feeling dry and his stomach fluttery.

His phone is always on standby, a huge portion of his camera roll devoted to videos and pictures of you living your life, doing domestic things that have him softly sighing and imagining the way you’d welcome him home after a long practice, how you’d get on your tip toes to press a peck against his lips, how you’d scrub the loofah along his chest when you shower together.

It’s sweet and whimsical, in a way, and while he’s careful to never have the flash on or make a noise, his collection of memories of you span to capture everything – you brushing your teeth, folding laundry, scribbling math equations, scrolling through your phone, using the restroom, sleeping and rolling over with a soft huff.

You’re just adorable, beautiful and wonderful and everything that Rintarou could hope for, and so while he doesn’t particularly like the fact that he doesn’t interact with you as much as he could, he’s satisfied – after all, watching you through your bedroom window is more intimate than talking about your day, right?

Listening to the way you talk to yourself as you work through the complicated work problems (thanks to the bugs he places in your room) is more personal than asking you if you’d like to come to his next volleyball game, right?

Rintarou thinks so, and with each new expression and reaction you make to the things around you (sometimes he’ll even fabricate a situation to examine your response to – nothing big, maybe leaving a small sign that he’d been in your room earlier, or leaving the door unlocked, or leaving the TV running), he learns more and more about you.

He’s good at reading people, and you’re his biggest challenge yet – and truly, he wants to know everything about you, to learn what makes you tick, what scares you, what makes you so happy you’re in tears.

You’re a mystery to him, but one he oh so desperately wants to solve – so try to ignore the feeling of those sharp eyes on you, yeah?

It’s just done out of love, so what is there to fear?

Selfless

Where your happiness is concerned, a lot of Rintarou’s more emotional tendencies come out. He lives to see you smile, as seeing you beam or giggle or stubbornly snort makes his heart practically beat out of his chest, the sound and sight addicting in a way he knows he’ll never be able to quit.

He’s normally not the most motivated, someone who puts in minimal effort unless he’s inspired, but his determination to get you smiling and happy is really quite something, really quite overwhelming –

Frankly, he’s desperate to be the cause of your happiness, to know that he’s the one who’s responsible for making your face light up, that he’s the one that turned your shit day into a decent, enjoyable one. It’s a boost to his ego, and it makes him feel a bit better about the whole stalking thing, the obsession thing, the way he’s latched onto you without any hope of ever letting go.

The knowledge makes him proud, has him feeling like a partner, like someone who can truly love you and care for you, but the thing that sets Rintarou apart is that he doesn’t particularly want you to know that he’s the one responsible, that the reason why you're doing so well in university or your job is all him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want the credit (because god, just the thought of you smiling up at him and hugging him, telling him you’re so thankful and happy for him and maybe even rewarding him with a kiss is enough to get his Adam’s apple sharply bobbing, his eyes darting around the room and his fist clenching), but the reason that he keeps his acts of service regarding you more on the down-low has to do with the way he doesn’t like to bring attention to himself.

Obviously, your attention and time and care are things he craves like a drug, but there’s still a certain amount of slight insecurity that washes through him as his thoughts overwhelm him, the possibility of you being creeped out by just how often and thoroughly he helps you out hitting him square in the chest.

The last thing he wants to do is alienate himself, to get you feeling uncomfortable around him, to make you scared of him, hence why he decides it’s better to stay in the dark than have your lovely warmth and radiance no longer be partially directed towards him.

And while the acts of service start small towards the beginnings of his obsession with you, with time they grow more elaborate and more invasive.

In the beginning, Rintarou is doing things out of the kindness of his heart; you’re looking a bit down, more stressed than normal? He’s quick to run to the store and buy your favorite snacks, making up some excuse to leave them on your desk before your classes or shift starts, so that once you walk in you’re met with a pleasant surprise and a short but sweet note from an anonymous sender.

(Writing the notes always feels so cliché, but Rintarou finds that once he sits down with the pen and paper, the words just keep coming – obviously he can only write so much without giving away the depth and extent of his infatuation, so the letters get stored in his desk while the more simple you look tired, try to sleep more and take some time for yourself get attached to the goodies).

In the beginning, it’s Rintarou still having a strange internal battle about whether or not he should be going out of his way to help you, but always finding himself unconsciously moving to make sure that your bag doesn’t touch the area of the school carpet with the mysterious stain, that your food doesn’t get accidentally contaminated by anyone else’s germs. He's moving to make sure that you’re still smiling and happy, because while you’re still beyond gorgeous with a frown etched into your features, it’s nothing compared to that flustered little smile, the bashful crinkle of your nose, the way your eyes flutter.

It’s simple in the beginning, and he swears it’s innocent – until suddenly, he’s finding himself slipping further and further into the odd, self-induced responsibility of making sure your life is as easy as possible. Instead of simply double checking that your laundry is done before you get home, he's doing basketfuls, bringing his very own laundry detergent - it smells like him, and while you don't seem to notice the change in scent yet, he's hoping some part of your subconscious will enjoy the smell and associate it with him. Maybe you'll even have little, embarrassing fantasies about him as a househusband - something that isn't entirely off the table, if he's being completely honest.

What starts as him leaving you little snacks (mostly comprised of chuupets of his favorite flavor, if only because it seems weirdly intimate to be sharing something like that with you) to keep you pleasantly surprised turns into him reluctantly and nonchalantly begging Osamu to teach him to cook, leaving you anonymous bentos with your favorite foods and cute little drawings that always make you smile and get embarrassed, your friends hovering and bombarding you with questions about your secret admirer.

(And of course, you always leave the box pristine, with the chopsticks neatly stacked on top at the corner of your desk for the owner to reclaim, and while Rintarou isn’t proud of the way he spends hours sucking on the used chopsticks, tongue sucking and sliding over the metal to taste every possible piece of you he can, he’s not disgusted enough with himself to stop.)

What starts as him simply trying to make you less stressed and your life easier slowly turns into him breaking into your home to complete your chores, to tidy up your room, to sift through your closet and replace your old, used panties with brand new pairs in colors and shades he thinks you’ll love and that he fantasizes about them so much that he has his own matching, identical pair who’s sole purpose is to absorb every drop of cum he wrings out just for you you you –

He becomes your lapdog, in a way, though you won’t know it – frankly, you’ll know something is going on, but why would you ever suspect snarky, introverted Rintarou?

Why would he ever go out of his way for you, do anything so time consuming for you?

You’ll push aside the nagging feeling, trying to play it off as you being overly aware, but once Rintarou has you locked into his basement, your favorite foods and items surrounding you like a strange sort of offering, his narrow yellow eyes lighting up at the mere opportunity to make you smile and thank him?

Well, it gets more difficult once you’re able to see just how pathetically desperate Rintarou is – but really, can he be blamed?

Can he be blamed for wanting to make you happy?

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Despite having adopted the ‘cool boy’ guise for as long as anyone can remember, Rintarou is very much not ‘cool’ when he’s placed into situations where you’re being chased by another man.

He absolutely detests the prospect of another man trying anything at all with you – he’s not horribly delusional, but he still thinks of you as solely his, just as he is solely yours.

And so, the moment that this notion is challenged, Rintarou is suddenly shutting down a bit, his heart racing in his chest and his veins feeling like they’re on fire because who the hell is trying to steal you away from him?

He’s got a bit of a possessive streak, and so he’s actually quite used to being jealous because of you.

He knows he’s not the most social or outgoing guy, and as a result you’ll often end up in conversations with people that aren’t him, no matter how badly he wishes it weren’t true.

It’s too scary sometimes to simply walk up to you and begin chatting, but for other men this doesn’t seem to be an issue – and so, often when Rintarou is jealous, it’s a combination of being both jealous of how you’re responding to this man’s flirtations, along with frustration at himself for not being man enough to just fucking talk to you.

He’s terrified you’ll find someone you like more – maybe he’ll be funnier, nicer, better at compliments, able to get you laughing in the blink of an eye. Maybe he’ll be bulkier, have a better fashion sense, have soft, curly hair instead of the somewhat wiry brown locks he’s always been stuck with.

Insecurities get the best of Rintarou when he’s faced someone challenging his spot in your life, and while you may never know, he’s absolutely enraged when he sees others interacting with you.

He isn’t the most bold yandere, and so while he rarely ever directly interferes, those golden eyes will be watching you constantly when you’ve captured another man’s attention.

He’s watching like a hawk, trying to read your every movement, expression and word, hoping and praying he’ll find some sign that you aren’t reciprocating the man’s attraction.

He’s still too nervous to actually confess the horribly strong feelings in his heart about you, and so he’ll try to work himself into finding flaws in the way you’re interacting with whoever is trying to steal your attention – you never laugh that hard at puns, so obviously you must be faking it.

You’re never this kind and pleasant towards people you actually like, so you must be sugar coating your words in an effort to remain strangers.

You wouldn’t be smiling apologetically and telling him you’ve got to get running if you actually wanted to stay and talk to him. He can see it all on your face, plain as day – and that’s part of why Rintarou loves you. You’re just so easy to read and analyze, and yet every day he finds new layers to you that he just falls more and more in love with.

You’re perfect, which is why it’s so much harder than he can handle to watch you interact with other men. It physically hurts, his chest aching and his muscles tensing to the point of cramping as he stares holes into the both of your bodies, watching and waiting with baited breath for you to get the fuck away, preferably into Rintarou’s arms.

And so, while he’s familiar with the jealousy that seeing you with other guys brings, he’s never, ever been good at dealing with it – something you’ll learn fairly quickly.

Rintarou’s eye twitches as he watches the way the stranger’s form slowly comes closer to the both of yours. It’s a train platform – he knows that, rationally, you’ll be standing next to strangers, men, people with intentions that could be nefarious towards a cute thing like you.

He’s not being paranoid by thinking that those standing around you aren’t good people – he’s just being realistic. He knows from experience with his own sister and female friends that men are horrible, invasive, creepy, violent, dangerous, and he doesn’t think it’s so bold of him to say that his concern for you is well-placed.

At least, his concern about your danger – his brows furrow a bit as the man beside you reaches into his pocket for something, and every muscle in Rintarou’s body tenses as he stiffens up against the wall of the platform he’s leaning against, some ten feet away.

His whole body is prepared, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice on the off chance the man pulls a knife or camera or something bad –

Your pretty voice cuts off any panicked thoughts racing through the brunette’s head, your words startling him. Is that a charm on your phone case? I love that character! Is he your favorite from the show?

Rintarou’s defenses relax slightly, but at the pleasantly shocked expression on the man’s face, he’s immediately tensing up again.

However, as the man responds with a modest affirmation, Rintarou finds himself tense for an entirely different reason – you’re smiling at this man, chatting with him of your own volition.

There’s a gold watch sitting on the man’s wrist, and with a downturning of the blocker’s lips, he notices that the man’s white dress shirt is perfectly pressed, his sleek navy dress pants following suit. His hair is neatly combed back, perfectly messy, and his features are attractive as he smiles down at you. Rintarou’s stomach turns, nausea settling in his gut.

Fuck.

His own boring brown sweatshirt and cream cargo pants look stupid in comparison to this man’s professional, clean appearance – and maybe you’d like that more?

Maybe you’re interested in men with real jobs, not just a sport.

Maybe you’re interested in men that attend business meetings, have clients, have framed degrees sitting on the walls of their offices. Rintarou bites his lip, his teeth threatening to break the skin as his fingernails dig into his palms.

Fuck.

It’s torture, watching as you converse with the man, the train taking forever to arrive – the conversation turns to other shows the both of you watch, and while Rintarou is pleased to learn you don’t have many others in common, it doesn’t stop the way his throat is drying up, his tongue feeling heavy.

He’s sweating underneath his clothes despite the cold air of the train platform, and with growing worry he watches the way the man takes a step closer to you, showing you some photo of a stupid animated character on his phone and god, Rintarou’s gonna be sick, how do you look like such a good physical match fuck fuck fuck –

He stands up stick straight as the man’s arm comes around to wrap lightly around your shoulder, the side smile he sends you as you look at his phone making Rintarou’s veins alight with fire because how fucking dare he?

He’s just touched you, without your invitation or permission, and it seems you’ve noticed this too – you immediately stiffen up and shuffle back, shaking off his arm and sending him a very obviously uncomfortable look.

The man falters slightly, the smile threatening to slip off his face, but at your curt I just realized I’m on the wrong train, it disappears entirely.

Internally, Rintarou debates his next course of action – you’re hurriedly speed-walking away, making a point to keep your head down and shuffling through the crowds of people that have gathered (distantly, he hears the chimes of the train arriving). Should he follow you, or should he sock that creep in the face?

The man touched you without your permission, made you obviously feel scared and uncomfortable, and that’s utterly unacceptable. Rintarou may be somewhat physically pacifistic, but he will not stand for anything attempting to infringe on your personal space.

You’re his girl, and he’ll let no one make you scared or make you cry – speaking of which, as you quickly pass by him, the brunette spots your eyes reddening, your sniffling alerting him that fuck, you’re about to cry.

His decision is immediately made, and as he follows you up the heavily packed flight of stairs, it’s all too easy to get around and ahead of you, making sure you don’t notice him as he uses his athletic abilities to wait at the top of the stairs.

It’s easy to pretend to bump into you, his hands steadying your shoulders as you squeak out an apology, your eyes widening as you recognize him. And as you utter the small R-rin, he feels his heart break.

You’re his, dammit, and he won’t let some well-dressed, sleazy business man treat you like some common whore – the coffee shop he takes you to has your favorite drink and he knows it, and as you sip on the warm beverage he bought for you, Rintarou feels his heart finally calm.

You don’t want that stranger – you want him, otherwise why would you let him be so familiar and caring towards you? Maybe you’re finally starting to love him, too.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

For Rintarou, he genuinely wants your relationship to be as close to normal as possible.

He wants the two of you to fall in love, date, get married, have a family and grow old with each other, and he knows that kidnapping isn’t exactly the most conventional method of doing this.

He’s more than aware that if he were to steal you away and forcefully relocate you by his side, you’d probably be less than pleased. You’d probably be afraid of him, hate him, want either him or yourself to be dead, and just the thought of that honestly breaks Rintarou’s heart.

He hates the prospect of you being displeased with him; he lives to please you, his every thought revolving around seeing you smile and hearing your pretty voice whisper that you love him, and if you were trapped under his roof, would you ever smile again?

Would you ever make (adorably) stupid jokes that get Rintarou’s eyes rolling and his heart pumping out of his chest?

Would you let him brush his hand against yours, fingers reaching out just slightly in the barest hint of attempting to interlock your fingers?

He knows the answer, of course: no, you wouldn’t, and he wouldn’t expect you to. He wants you to love him, not placate him by pretending to be in love.

Of course, he can’t deny that the idea of keeping you with him at all times, dependent and paying attention only to him is really quite appealing.

There’s something beautiful about the idea of you always being there when he needs you to be; your pretty face always available for him to reach out and cup, your cheeks in his hands as you stare up at him with wide eyes, your lips parted slightly as you whisper his name.

There’s something incredibly enticing about the prospect of bringing home takeout for the both of you (maybe he can even commission Osamu to give him a discount at Onigiri Miya – he’s not holding his breath), your eyes lighting up as you see the door open, quickly throwing your arms around his shoulders and peppering his face with kisses as you tell him thank you, this was exactly what I wanted!

There’s aspects about kidnapping you that are so, so wonderful, but it would take quite a bit for him to actually steal you away. As a result, he’ll push off the intense urge to just wrap you in his arms and keep you there forever for as long as he possibly can - that is, until something happens that pushes him to the limit.

Say, for example, you develop a liking for another man - given how Rintarou’s eyes are on you at almost every moment of the day, he’ll notice the way you start staring, leaving lingering glances at a certain someone, how your voice gets higher and you clean up your appearance when they walk by.

It hurts, and he can only take so much of you fawning over another man before he snaps - and so, he’ll be climbing into your room in the wee hours of the morning, pausing for a moment to stare down lovingly at your sleeping form, a heavy blush and gentle smile playing on his features while he caresses your hair.

He’ll cover your nose and mouth gently with the chloroform soaked rag, before he’s lifting you into his arms and leaving, marveling at how your body fits perfectly against his own. In that moment, he’s absolutely sure that it’s the right decision to steal you away - after all, the two of you are just so fucking perfect for one another.

Plus, if he acts correctly, you’re bound to fall for him – Stockholm Syndrome, even if it takes a while.

Right?

As a captor, Rintarou isn’t terrible - he’s still very quiet, but he’s attentive to your needs, almost so much so that it’ll scare you.

He always seems to know what you need or want before you do – almost like he can read your mind, which you’re almost convinced he can. Those narrow eyes will watch you as you bite your lip and contemplate, practically seeing the gears turning in your head as he simply stares from across the room.

He’ll be by your side with a glass of water before you even realize you’re thirsty, telling you to drink it all, you’ll get dehydrated if you don’t.

He’s giving you an extra hoodie before you even register that you’re cold, nimble fingers trembling slightly as they brush against the soft skin of your shoulders, brushing aside your hair so that the hood rests comfortably against your neck.

He knows you like the back of his hand, and it really shows once you’re under his control. And while it may be disorienting and creepy that he seems to know everything about you, even things you’re absolutely sure you’ve never told another soul, somewhere in the back of your mind you’ll slowly begin getting more fond of the middle blocker.

Slowly, you’ll start warming up to him, his monotone voice and blank looks growing on you the longer you’re trapped with him. Because really, while he kidnapped you, he’s not that bad – you could be dead and tied up in a ditch somewhere if it had been someone else to break into your home that night.

You could be gagged and tied to a post, your body violated and abused to the point of nearly dying if it wasn’t Rintarou that developed an obsession with you.

He could be much, much worse - he doesn’t lay a hand against you, and while he may force you to cuddle with him, eventually your hatred for him will lose against the overwhelming need for human contact and affection - something that he is more than willing to give you.

Honestly, you’ll be scared of the middle blocker and his vast knowledge on you, but the more you find yourself wrapped up in his arms and resting against his warm chest while he whispers sweet compliments and words of love in your ears, you’ll grow less and less scared and more and more happy to be with him.

Because when he’s promising you the world, telling you he’ll give you anything and everything you could ever want (besides your freedom, of course), you’ll never feel more desired, valued or cared for. You’ll discover a few weeks into your captivity that he desperately, desperately craves physical contact with you.

There’s a reason all his touches are light and gentle, his fingers almost afraid to touch you, and the first time you let him hold your hand or hug you you’ll understand why immediately – and how can you not?

How can you not realize the depth with which he's wanted to hold you when you feel the tear drip onto your shoulder from his cheek the first time he caresses you against his chest?

How can you not be aware that he’s wanted to horribly to kiss you when he lets out the most wanton, pathetic moan you’ve ever heard the first time you place a kiss against his cheek?

And although it’s fucked up, you’ll come to enjoy the way Rintarou is so dependent on you, the way he’s so clearly gone out of his way to make sure that you stay with him, and you’ll grow to be just as in love as he is - Stockholm Syndrome will set in, and really Rintarou couldn’t be happier.

Because when you’re telling him you love him back, cuddling him with your own free will, kissing him and running your hands over his body, he thinks that there’s nothing in the world better than this. Even if he did have to unfortunately kidnap you, it was all worth it; because now, the two of you can live out the future he’d always hoped you’d have.

PUNISHMENTS:

Similarly to his reluctance to kidnap you, Rintarou absolutely does not want to punish you in any way, shape, or form.

The possibility of hurting you makes him physically ill, whether it be emotionally, mentally, or physically. He can’t rationalize the idea of hurting you simply to prove a point to you – he’d be a monster to do that, right?

He’s already gone too far by kidnapping you, so he’s extremely reluctant to undergo any sort of discipline towards you. Frankly, the punishment would hurt him more than it would hurt you – he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the mirror for days, instead only seeing flashes behind his eyelids of the way you’d cry and beg him to stop, your broken sobs and pleas haunting his nightmares.

He doesn’t think he’d be able to physically do it, anyways – he’d have to quit halfway through, his nose tingling as tears threaten to slip down his cheeks while he sprints out of the room. He’d have to compose himself, to put on a mask and pretend to be someone he’s not; he’d have to pretend to be someone who enjoys seeing you in pain, who likes to see you upset and sad, as if he doesn’t live for you laughter, smiles and loving touches.

The whole concept is just too much for him – however, that isn’t to say that Rintarou is entirely lenient. He’s forgiving as far as captors go; it takes quite a bit to upset him, and while he’s always silently disappointed when you refuse to hug him or acknowledge his presence and words, he’s not driven to the point of abusing you.

He’ll just stare at you with that same impassive gaze he always seems to have, though if you look closely you’ll see the way his brows are tilted upwards in the middle, his lips parted slightly, devastation plain as day in those calculating eyes.

He doesn’t get mad at you when you lash out at him – he doesn’t enjoy when you hit him, swinging your arms wildly as you cry and plea with him to let you go, but he’ll just let you smack him, maybe dodging a few swings before ultimately deciding he deserves this, you should be punishing him for his wrongdoings.

He doesn’t even get mad when you try to escape – he understands why, even if it hurts him. He’s always plagued by doubts when you attempt these escapes, though; wondering what he can do to make you happier, if he can make you happier. He’s wondering how to get your old personality back, because this new somewhat shell of yourself isn’t the woman he fell in love with and he’s scared that if he doesn’t get you back now, you may be gone forever because of him.

He doesn’t even get mad when you lash out and tell him that you hate him, that he’s despicable and a terrible person! I wish I’d never met you, I wish I’d met a normal man who wasn’t a pervert psychopath!

Your insults hurt, of course, but Rintarou has tough (ish) skin when it comes to you – he’ll maintain his composure, trying to not let his voice waver as he insists you eat the food, please, you need to.

It hurts so fucking bad, but he can take it – however, the one thing he can’t take is when you say you don’t need him.

It’s his selfless tendencies, really, that make this very specific attack so hurtful and dangerous for him. It’s the months and months of trying to make your life easier by doing your daily tasks for you that make him snap, his jaw clenching so tightly you can see it, his hands shaking as rage rolls through him. It’s the only situation in which he’ll genuinely feel enraged at you – how dare you?

He’s spent countless thousands of hours trying to help make you happy and save you work, and this is how you repay him? Ungrateful, even if you didn’t ask for his help.

Even if you didn’t want it. It strikes a chord within him, and as you whisper the words while you shrink away from him at the dinner table, Rintarou drops his utensils against the ceramic, making a noise much too loud in his silent condo.

He’ll stare at you, a thousands emotions flitting through his eyes, and for a moment you feel genuine, unbridled fear – he’s never looked at you so shocked, with so much visible emotion on his face.

He’s never uttered out the words he speaks in that moment – get up. You’re coming with me.

You’ll be scared, shaking your head and trying to backtrack from what you said because there’s something about this new side of Rintarou that’s making your heart race, that’s making goosebumps appear on the back of your neck and down your spine.

Rintarou feels a flash of guilt at the way you’re cowering away from him, your pretty face all twisted up and fear and confusion, but your words keep ringing through his head.

I don’t need you. I don’t need you. I don’t need you.

It drives his legs to move, his arms reaching out and lifting you up, despite your pleas and attempts to wiggle out of his grasp. He’s always been strong, and no matter your weight he's carrying you down the stairs, listening with a heavy heart as you start to cry, shaking in his hold as you slowly give up on fighting.

He carefully sets you down on the sofa in the basement, the small space only furnished with said sofa, a chair, a TV (that has been locked with a password only Rintarou knows), and a bathroom with a sink that only ever spouts cold water.

With a heavy sigh, Rintarou looks at your quivering form and reaches above you to grab the stringy blanket he keeps draped over the couch, noticing your confusion as you watch.

This hurts to do, really – he’s already feeling the guilt as he moves towards the door separating the basement from the stairway up to the rest of the condo, a frown on his face and his eyes softening. You do need me, he says softly, almost hesitantly, before closing the door, seeing your panicked face staring at him from the couch.

The thermostat is right outside the doorway, and with a heavy heart he’s turning the settings down, applying the air conditioning at such an extreme level that he’s worried for a moment you’ll freeze to death.

He hadn’t wanted to do this, truly – keeping the basement freezing cold while stripping you away from any source of warmth hadn’t been his most pleasant idea, but it was the most useful.

You need to understand that you need him – he’s taking care of you, and he's been taking care of you for much longer than you know.

You need to understand that you must rely on him – he’s your protector, and while he’d never enjoy hurting you, as he continues to turn the settings down until the sliver of cold air from underneath the doorframe touches his toes, his resolve slowly weakens.

He can hear you crying now – it’s been a good fifteen minutes, surely long enough for you to notice the dropping temperature, and he can hear your pleas of his name to let you out.

You must be cold – you’d been wearing only his t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts, hardly the clothing for nearing freezing temperatures.

He stands outside the doorway for the whole thirty minutes he leaves you in there, a silent tear trail running down his cheeks, his heart aching as he forces himself to wait just one more minute, so that you can understand that he’s serious.

He needs you to realize he’s not joking; you do need him, and as he exhales sharply and raises the heat up, swinging open the door, he nearly gasps at the cold temperature of the room.

He’s quick to dart in and find you, who’d moved to try and wrap yourself with the couch cushions, only to find their flimsy, cheap quality did next to nothing to insulate you.

You’re shaking, your jaw clattering as your eyes slowly move to his, and for a horrible, horrible moment Rintarou wonders if you’re going to die – you look frozen, as if hypothermia had already claimed your life. But then you shakily, hoarsely whisper out his name.

He lets out a near-sob of relief and scoops you into his arms, the guilt weighing even more heavily on his heart because he did this to you. He’s sprinting up the stairs with you, wrapping you up in the mountain of blankets and pillows he’d prepared, wiping away the nearly frozen tears on your cheeks as he coos your name.

You snuggle further into him, desperately seeking his warmth, and as the both of you lay on his bed, Rintarou can only pull you closer to his chest, letting his tears flow freely now, his lips moving as well.

Please, please don’t ever say that again, please understand that you need me and I need you. Please. Tell me you understand me.

And when you shakily whisper out that you do, you’ll find that you actually mean it – because if he’d left you in there longer, maybe you would’ve died.

He’d never let you actually pass, but still – maybe it’s best to just listen to what he says, yeah?

And as you slip into a dreamless slumber, you find yourself settling into his embrace, deciding that yes, you’re nothing without him.

OVERALL DANGER:

4/10

In general, Rintarou is much more of a hovering love struck fool rather than a genuinely dangerous man.

Of course, he’s constantly watching you, following you home and observing your every move, but he honestly has no ill intent.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, to play with you or cause you any kind of negative emotion; you mean the absolute world to the middle blocker, and he’s waited all these years for the one to show up. And now that you have, he’ll do everything in his power to keep you with him, to keep you loving and happy and dependent on him.

He wants the two of you to have a flawless relationship, and although it’s obviously not the case considering the fact that he knows the location of each and every mole on your body before he’s even held your hand, he wants to get it as close to the real deal as possible.

He wants you to love him and want him, and while his methods aren’t ideal, Rintarou is determined.

He’s your silent shadow, doing you favors without expecting anything in return and keeping track of your whereabouts. He’s making sure you get home safe everyday without a hair touched on your pretty head, those narrow eyes watching you and everyone around you’s every move.

And at some point, his soft touches and thoughtful gestures will get to you - after all, wouldn’t it just be so much easier to give in? To give him the love and life that he wants?

You’ll convince yourself that he isn’t that bad, that he’s just blinded by love and his desire for you. And although it’s wrong, you’ll grow flattered by his devotion, and you’ll come to love him as well - and really, Rintarou couldn’t be happier.

You’re his dream, and he’ll never give up on you.

#_rintarou suna #_lee's profiles #yandere haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #yandere rintarou suna

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