Bee And Puppycat Is Just Like Oh Heres A Cute Show About A Woman Who Cant Hold Down A Job And Has A Run

bee and puppycat is just like “oh here’s a cute show about a woman who can’t hold down a job and has a run in with an alien dogcat who she then goes on adventures to space with! :> but also the dogcat is an outlaw who’s centuries(?) old. and also the woman is a robot/cyborg at least a hundred years old who may or may not be a replacement for a human girl who was once alive? we won’t fully explain that yet. and also her landlord is a child whose mom is in a coma. but also his mom is Also an alien outlaw who the dogcat space outlaw was close with and… also the child landlord might not be human either. oh and the entire island the robot woman lives on is the outlaws’ spaceship. we’ll sorta explain maybe 50% of all of this.”

Yandere! Kai Chisaki General Profile

Yandere! Kai Chisaki x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, violence, mentions of dub-con, Kai is awkward and literally can't not pop boners around you constantly, threats, mentions of blood, mentions of needles, slight objectification, allusions to neglect, Kai forces you to watch him kill someone, masturbation, 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!

Tidy

First and foremost, being Kai’s darling requires a certain level of cleanliness.

They by no means need to be a germaphobe or obsessively making sure every surface is spotless, but keeping their living space fairly clean and orderly is something incredibly appealing to Kai.

And once his darling is living in the base and has a room all to themselves, it pleases him greatly to see his darling’s bed neatly made every morning, their clothes (all hand selected by him, of course) hanging up in the closet, or any other small display of them just generally wanting the area to be somewhat neat.

He likes the reassurance that his darling has a bit of sense about them, that they understand that cleanliness is important.

And honestly, one of the most heartwarming things Kai can imagine is his darling purposefully cleaning something for him, that they’re willing to spend their time and energy voluntarily making sure that something has been sanitized, cleaned or straightened up all in the name of making him more comfortable, of helping alleviate some of the disgust and fear of his everyday life.

He loves the idea of his darling being a sweet little domestic partner, a housewife of sorts, and if they have a natural liking of keeping things on the cleaner side?

Well, it only makes Kai fall harder, deeper, more completely, because god, how is his darling so fucking perfect for him?

Sweet

Kai is honestly a bit pessimistic; he’s not especially positive about things in life, not especially kind or forgiving, and though he hasn’t really given much thought to what he does and doesn’t find attractive, even he can’t deny that there’s a certain allure to someone who’s the opposite of him; of his brash and cold words, someone warm and sweet and soft.

A darling that doesn’t hesitate to throw kind words at him, to praise the people around them and just generally make people feel good about themselves is something he quickly becomes enamored with, the compliments at first catching him off guard.

His darling saying something along the lines of wow, the gold in your mask really brings out the shades of your eyes – it’s really pretty, is only met with Kai’s cryptic, stoic stare, making them shrink in on themselves while he internally tries to process the idea that his darling likes his eyes.

He’s confused at first, slightly irritated and wondering if they meant it in some sort of derogatory or mean way, but as his cold eyes search their own warmer, slightly nervous ones, he’s taken aback to realize that they mean it, that they’re being genuine with their words.

In all honesty, growing up in the yakuza and being surrounded by criminals and an parental figure that used tough love more than anything, having someone actively praise him or deliver compliments is something he’s completely unused to, completely confused by

But he can’t deny the way a little seed of warmth grows in his chest, the words feeling strange but nice.

And as his darling only continues with their offhand compliments, their small, sweet words, Kai only grows more and more addicted to them, and though he tries his best to compliment them back (it comes off more threatening than anything – your hands are very clean, I wish I could keep them for myself), it’s a bit difficult for him to recover from their honesty, from the way his heart hammers against his ribcage at just one mere kind smile from them.

It’s disorienting, but Kai would be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely love it.

Patient

He is, admittedly, a bit poor with processing and expressing his feelings; he’s never experienced a relationship or romantic feelings of any sort before he met his darling, and as a result he’s a bit clueless when it comes to courting them, to how he should act around them.

Of course, he wants nothing more than to completely woo his darling, to sweep them off their feet and get them to fall madly in love with him, but he’s realistic enough to know that no matter how many cheesy, dreadful rom-coms he watches, no matter how many articles or pieces of advice from colleagues and clients, it won’t change the fact that he’s just naturally not romantic, that he’s just not good with expressing himself.

He wants to be a wonderful partner, always spoiling his darling and making them feel treasured and loved like how he really feels, but it’s difficult for him to break away the layers of carefully built shields around himself, the thick skin he’s acquired through years of working in the underground mafia.

And, because of this, his darling absolutely needs to be patient – they need to be able to give him the time and space he needs in order for him to process his feelings, to try and make sense of how and when he should approach them about his desires to hold them, to see them smile.

And while it’s likely that his darling won’t even be aware of his obsession and romantic feelings towards them until much later in his infatuation, they need to be understanding of how fucking hard it is for Kai to be vulnerable, to allow any sort of happiness or weakness into his life.

Because really, his darling is his one true, huge weak spot – one he loves dearly and would give his life for, but still isn’t quite sure how to rely this to them.·      

Smart

In Kai’s world, strategy, power and manipulation are absolutely everything; he needs to be at the top of his game at all times, making sure that he’s making the right decisions, playing the right cards and just generally making every possible move towards the restoration of the Shie Hissakai.

He’s constantly strategizing, thinking through decision after decision, scenario after scenario, and as a result he’s grown to absolutely demand intelligence out of those around him, to require brains and a general threshold of understanding for those he deems close to him, and his darling is no exception.

They don’t need to be book smart per se, but he needs to have confidence that if he were to explain something to them (though he avidly tries to separate his darling from any and all yakuza business) that they would understand, that he wouldn’t need to spend hours going over the same piece of information again and again before they finally understood.

There’s a certain attractiveness to intelligence that he can’t quite explain, but very much feels – when his darling makes some sort of quick remark or statement in response to something he said, there’s a sense of pride swelling in his chest, because that’s his beloved who’s so smart, so understanding and quick thinking.

He really likes the idea of his partner and him being a bit of a ‘power couple’ (though he absolutely refuses to give up any of his own power over his work or them – he is in charge, as he always will be), in that they’re both forces to be reckoned with, smart and strong and a powerful team together.

It’s enticing, and though his darling likely couldn’t change his mind about anything, Kai enjoys asking them about their opinions and thoughts on certain matters, just to understand how deeply they agree or disagree, how deeply his darling’s smarts run.

That, and Kai will be taking every possible opportunity to bond with beloved, even if talking about hero society is the way to do it.

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Controlling

Kai is, as in most aspects of his life, absolutely desperate to be in charge of every little thing around him.

He needs to be dictating every single thing you do, everything you say and think and feel, otherwise things get ugly, quickly.

There’s a part of him that’s absolutely terrified that you hold so much emotional weight over him, that he cares so much about you, that he does things because of you.

He doesn’t like the way he feels so helpless in the face of you, even as unassuming and weak as you are.

He doesn’t like that you hold such power over him, knowingly or not, and as a result it helps to quell down this anxiety and fear when he’s telling you that you’re not allowed to leave your room, that you must wash your hands every ten minutes on the dot, that you aren’t to speak to another living soul besides himself.

Kai craves for you to feel the same overwhelming, disorienting love that he does for you, but more than anything he craves absolute control over you.

He wants power over you, to know that you will follow his every word, his every command, anything and everything he could ever want.

To him, it shows that you trust him, that you love him and that you’re giving yourself to him, to let him love you and show you how much you mean to him.

In his eyes, it’s all actually strangely romantic – you’re his sweet little quirkless woman, the girl he thinks he loves, the one he’d do anything and everything to protective and keep his, and in return all he asks is that you let him decide everything for you, that you depend completely and solely on him.

It’s a fair deal, really, and after all, he knows what you need much better than you do - after all, he knows you better than you know yourself.

He has a, for lack of a better term, brutal schedule that he keeps you chained to – he’s rigging an alarm for your room that goes off at exactly 6:30 in the morning, a steady beeping noise that does the job quite nicely, if the camera feed showing you frowning and covering your ears with the single pillow he’s given you is anything to go by.

He’s sending in a henchman (masked, so that there’s no chance of you finding him attractive) with a tray of nutritionally balanced breakfast items that you will eat, lest he’ll use force against you.

Your breakfast will consist of a pile of meat of his choosing, steamed vegetables on the side, and a small container of starch next to the plate.

A smattering of vitamins are enclosed in a small box in the corner of the tray, the some ten different pills ranging from the size of his pinky nail to a quarter patiently waiting to be swallowed.

(When you ask, he doesn’t tell you what they’re for - he just tells you they’re good for you, that you’d better take them, we wouldn’t want you getting sick, now would we? You don’t need to know that they’re all for diseases or conditions that run in your family - he checked - but you don’t have - it’s just a preemptive measure to make sure you don’t develop them, that nothing could ever harm you and take you away from him. Plus, the small white one you eye suspiciously will help him in the future, he hopes - after all, he’s certainly not ready for you to fall pregnant anytime soon.)

You’re scheduled for testing most of the day after that – various blood tests, check ups on your physical and mental health, mandatory meetings with him in his office to discuss your ‘progress’.

(You’re still not exactly sure what he means by that - he won’t give you details when you press, instead getting this weird sparkle in his eye while he stares at you, the eye contact making you squirm while he tells you that you’re very important, you’re the key to my success.)

Dinner is the same as your breakfast, and directly after is a shower that lasts for ten minutes – no more, no less, where you’re required to shampoo, condition, and scrub your body.

(You don’t know it, but there’s a camera set up in the corner of the shower that’s constantly rolling, just so that Kai can get some peace of mind and make sure you’re doing as you say - it’s certainly not to aid him when it’s late and he’s sitting in his office, eyes trained to the screen as he aches and throbs and yearns for you, both aroused and disgusted by the thought of being intimate with you, of being inside of you…)

You’re to be in bed by 9:00 at night, tucked underneath the covers and eyes closed so that you get the proper amount of sleep, ready to be awoken so rudely the next morning and repeat it all.

Deviation is quite rare in his itinerary for you – sometimes he’ll join you during your meals, or inform you that certain tests are being postponed until further notice, but for the most part Kai will absolutely be keeping you on his regiment – having such obvious control of you is something that he absolutely needs, a requirement he’s simply unwilling to compromise on.

The feelings you give him are already disorienting enough, strong enough to leave him feeling weak, dependent, angry, and the only way to regain some semblance of power is to show you that you utterly and completely belong to him, that you have absolutely no control over your new life, over your life in which you’re Kai’s beloved, perfect little woman.

Possessive

Because Kai has never really developed feelings for anyone in his life, romantic or really even platonic outside of Pops and Chrono, you present an anomaly for him.

The way that he feels for you, the desperation that overtakes him where you’re concerned is something he’s completely unfamiliar with, something strange and new and something he isn’t entirely sure how to handle.

(He’s never been a fan of romance, and has spent very little time indulging in any sort of media discussing the topic, and as a result he does genuinely feel like a fish out of water, even if he doesn’t entirely hate the experience.)

And really, the strangest thing about the development of his feelings for you is the way that he just reacts to you, unconsciously moving or thinking things he would never do otherwise.

There’s a part of him that he completely loses control over when you walk into the same room as him, when he sees your lovely eyes fixed on him, when you say his name, when you so much as breath in the same space as him.

(He’d requested you start calling him Kai in private a few months into your ‘stay’, if only because the way the letters roll off of your tongue makes his eyes flutter closed and a sharp exhale sound from below his mask.)

His eyes are snapping to you every time you enter his peripheral, amber eyes appraising you and scanning up and down your body, noticing a new detail every single time - he wasn’t aware you had a mole there, or a small scar here.

(But now, don’t you worry, he’ll remember well.)

And because he’s so unsure of how to manage the new urges and responses that you present him with, he falls back onto his more aggressive traits, the more primal parts of him that don’t really express themselves much in his day to day life taking center stage.

That is, Kai suddenly turns into a jealous, possessive freak because of you – he’s plagued with worries that you’ll leave him, that one day he’ll wake up to find your bed empty, your smile vanished along with your body he was just beginning to crave touching.

(Though he rationally knows the security system of the Shie Hissakai base and the numerous tunnels and henchmen would prove your escape extremely unlikely).

He’s paranoid that you’ll find someone else within the organization that you like more - someone more conventional, friendlier, more intimate with you.

(Just the thought of another man touching you makes Kai’s muscles stand taught, fists flexing and his quirk spiking up out of control, his bloodlust skyrocketing because absolutely nobody should be laying their filthy, disgusting hands on you and ruining you.)

And though it makes him feel stupid, weak, pathetic, he can’t help the way jealousy sits heavy in his stomach as he watches you smile and thank Chrono for dropping by with a new book to read, one Kai himself had heard you mention something about offhandedly, one Kai remembered and went out and personally bought just for you.

He can’t help the way his fists clench as he stares behind the computer screen, vowing to himself that he’ll be the one to deliver you gifts from now on, so that you won’t associate anything sweet or thoughtful with anyone but him.

He hates the way you make him feel (at least, that’s what he tells himself – but even he can’t deny the warmth spreading through his entire chest when you softly murmur thank you, Kai, I love it as he places the elegant, dainty gold necklace with his initials in your palms), but he knows that there isn’t much he can do to change it.

He knows that for all the negative feelings your smile and touch stir up within him, he’d never really choose to let go of his devotion for you because god, do the positive feelings make up for the negative ones a thousand times over.

And so, once he comes to terms with the fact that you do inspire jealousy within him, that he’s territorial over you in a way that makes him feel more animal than man, he’s taking it and running with it – he wants everyone within the Shie Hissakai to understand that you are completely off limits, that you’re property of Kai Chisaki himself, that you are quite literally owned by Overhaul.

He’s threatening undermen, buying you expensive clothing and jewelry and trinkets to make you feel loved, appreciated, even if the ring he presented you with while you ate the mystery dinner from Chrono’s tray the other day looked much too similar to a wedding ring to comfort you.

He sees you as his possession, an item he can have and own and cherish, and while he does want you to love him, to want him in the same way he wants you, there’s just something about marking you as his, dressing you up in clothing that he bought for you, covering you from head to toe in antibacterial lotion that he chose the scent of, keeping you his sweet little partner that makes him oddly giddy, an honest, genuine happiness washing over him that he hasn’t felt in years.

So really, just let him dress you, feed you, bath you and remind you that you’re nothing without him, that he’s the only one you can trust and should care about, and Kai will be over the moon. He might, maybe even smile fondly at you, petting your hair and whispering a soft I love you to your sleeping form.

You’re just that special.

Dependent

Although he’s strong and almost infuriatingly independent, once his emotional connection with you develops, Kai is a bit of a lost cause.

You mean absolutely everything to him – his whole life before you revolved around re-establishing the Shie Hissaikai and ending hero society, but once you show up?

Well, it’s still important to create and harvest the drug, to be using Eri and making sure the organization will continue on strong and prosperous, but surely it wouldn’t hurt to take just a small break from vigorously rubbing in some hand sanitizer after a business meeting and let his mind wander to you, to imagine how you’re probably curled up on your bed trying to nap, looking all peaceful and calm and - dare he say it - cute.

It’s not too big of a deal to take a few minutes to drop by your room and check up on you, right?

(Besides, seeing the way you brighten up when he steps into the room makes something in his chest swell with pride; you wanted to see him, didn’t you? Not really, no - it just gets so lonely all alone in the windowless room, but Kai doesn’t need to know that.)

Surely it wouldn’t be bad to take a break from the mountains of paperwork and watch the live footage of you in your room, working diligently at the puzzle he gifted you with the other day, right?

Kai is, for lack of a better term, completely whipped for you – your safety, happiness and health are things that are constantly on his mind, swirling questions of what you’re doing at any given time, when you last ate or slept or used the restroom circling through his head so much it feels like a never-ending loop.

Once Kai gets a taste of how good it feels to care for someone, to have a special person in his life that makes his heart race, his throat get a bit tight and his hands to start sweating, he’s clutching onto it with desperation, doing everything in his power to keep the sensations of happiness, of contentedness, of genuine love blooming in his chest.

He’s addicted to you, and while his every waking thought is either fixated on the drugs or you (though as time passes it slowly becomes clear to him that you take more of his headspace than his work, a disturbing discovery but not one he bothers to fight), his devotion to you only deepens.

Of course, Kai is absolutely terrible at expressing how much you mean to him – he’s so emotionally stunted, so unsure of how to approach you and the way you make him feel, that more often than not you’ll be left wondering what you did to irritate him, why he’s always staring at you so intensely, why he’s always stopping by your room and asking you personal, strange questions.

(Do you prefer cold or warm climates? What’s more upsetting to you – seeing a child or a puppy kicked? What areas on your body are ticklish? Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?)

Honestly, Kai will likely just be one huge mystery to you – he doesn’t want to expose himself and his feelings, and as a result he won’t show any traces of vulnerability to you – you’re left completely in the dark, left to wonder why and how you’re still alive, and when the yakuza boss will decide that you’ve lived past your expiration date.

Sure, he does buy you gifts; jewelry much too expensive for your tastes, dresses and skirts that accentuate your form in darker colors (he’s particularly partial to greens and golds – always dressing you up in gold necklaces, gold heels and sleek jade dresses that dip just a bit too low on your chest), occasionally a bouquet of flowers in your favorite colors that he insists brighten up the mood a bit.

(Though you don’t have the heart nor the courage to tell him that a bundle of roses sitting in a vase in the corner of your stark white room doesn’t make you any more comfortable there.)

Sure, he spends hours upon hours upon hours behind the computer in his office staring at you through the screen, the many cameras and audio bugs placed around the room picking up your every action, word and movement, his wide eyes feasting upon your innocent, perfect form as he simply takes in the beauty that is you, the feelings of love, adoration and utter want swimming in his chest intoxicating him.

Sure, he’s killed guards left and right for staring at you for a beat too long, for making some crude, disgusting joke about how they’d love a piece of you, that Overhaul’s too uptight, bet he doesn’t even fuck her – what a waste, she needs a real man to show her how its done.

Sure, he spends the majority of his time obsessing over you, doing daily check ups on your health and your safety, but Kai won’t ever display a moment of weakness to you – he only says he loves you when you’re asleep, laying so gracefully across your bed, his form seated at the edge of the mattress while he lightly strokes your cheek, his mask discarded onto your nightstand as he leans down, closes his eyes and takes a deep inhale of your scent, pressing his lips ever so lightly, softly, tentatively against your forehead.

He doesn’t want you to understand how much hold you have over him – because if you did, Kai is absolutely sure that you could manipulate him into getting whatever you want with just a simple kiss and whispered word of affection.

After all, Kai Chisaki needs you, and although he’s embarrassed by how much you mean to him, how crazy you make him and how absolutely obsessed with you he is, he wouldn’t change a single thing.

After all, he’s never been able to love someone, to touch them and protect them and desire them, and he’ll be damned if he ever loses you.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Kai is, to put it simply, insanely possessive over you; you’re his girl, the only one he can love and touch and really feel happy around, and as a result he absolutely refuses to allow any other man to get even remotely close to you.

It’s a combination of jealousy and deeply rooted insecurity about his romantic skills that makes him so quick to snatch you away from other men.

He won’t ever admit it, but he’s very aware that he probably wouldn’t be your first choice, that his issues with intimacy and expressing himself and the fact that he kills on a daily basis likely does nothing but push you away, make you more hesitant to fully give yourself to him, to actually love him.

But instead of communicating with you, of putting himself in a position where you could actually see how much of a mess you make him, Kai instead decides that isolating you from every other man in the complex is the best solution.

This fear only serves to make him more strict on limiting your contact with every other person on Earth who isn’t him, every other man that could possibly draw your attention, that could make you forget about Kai and instead fall heads over heels for them.

He’s methodical in his approach to keeping you utterly and completely his – making sure that your contact with others is incredibly limited, that you understand the consequences of becoming too chummy with anyone but himself.

Because you’d have to be his captive before his feelings for you even really form, he doesn’t have to worry about any men that he doesn’t know approaching you, fighting for your affection and love.

He only needs to consider the possibility of one of the very few people he allows you to have contact with – namely, a select group of the eight bullets, himself and Chrono.

It’s an ease to his mind to know that he’s really only competing with a few other guys, and although it makes him feel stupid, pathetic, weak to be comparing himself to someone like fucking Rappa, there’s a certain part of him that can’t help but wonder if it’s really someone more like him you’d like – muscular, social, not hesitant to touch you, all of the things he really isn’t.

It’s stupid and he knows it, but as he stares into his mirror with an expressionless face, looking at his nude body and his hands that can so easily take and give life, there’s a certain amount of insecurity settling in his chest.

Obviously, you don’t really have a choice in who you spend your time with, who you’re forced to depend on, who you’re destined to be with until your dying breath, but Kai really truly would prefer you to want him, to actively be choosing him.

And when one of the few people he lets have contact with you starts pushing the boundaries too far, getting a bit too friendly?

Well, all of those pushed down insecurities and destructive thoughts are rearing their ugly heads, forcing him to take measures he would prefer to not deal with, to not have to feel such terrible, sick things in his heart as he watches you laugh and smile.

You’re his, whether you like it or not, and Kai will absolutely make sure the fact is drilled into your pretty little head, even if the methodology is less than tame.

When he spots Sestuno leaning on the doorframe of your room, smirking down into the space while your lovely, tantalizing voice gushes about some show you used to love watching before you got kidnapped, immediately he’s scowling, thin eyebrows drawing taut as he realizes how fucking close Setsuno is standing next to you, how his gaze is aimed directly at you, how you’re just letting him stare.

Kai’s pissed, and as his footsteps grow harsher, more distinct against the cement of the underground hallway, he’s nearly growling.

He hates when he gets like this – it’s so painfully obvious how much of an emotional hold you have over him when the jealousy is seeping through his every pore, when he’s nearly driven insane just by another man looking at you.

It’s infuriating that something as simple and weak as you are able to make him a complete mess with just a few actions, just a few smiles and looks directed towards others.

It’s infuriating, but as he approaches Setsuno, the anger at himself is drowned out by the rage he feels towards his underling – immediately he’s clearing his throat, piercing eyes staring right at his subordinate as he interrupts the conversation, letting out a surprisingly calm sorry to interrupt, but tests are scheduled for right now. Wouldn’t want her to be late, would we?

And although Setsuno holds respect and genuine awe for his boss’s abilities, a twinge of fear climbs up his spine, making him hastily nod his head and return back to his station a few hundred feet away, nervously awaiting what he’s sure won’t be a pretty sight whenever Kai is done with your tests.

All throughout the blood draw that day, he’s tense, not really responding to your questions as thoroughly as he normally would, not paying as much attention to you as he’d like to.

(He’s staring at you, yes, but he’s sort of staring through you - not as observant as normal, not with the same concentration as normal, as if he’s counting your eyelashes or memorizing every blemish and pore on your face.)

Instead, he’s thinking of exactly what he’ll be doing once he safely escorts you back to your room, once he makes sure that you’re safe and sound and completely unaware of what he’s about to do.

And once your door is closing, he’s immediately scowling and stomping over to Setsuno, approaching the man with a deadly glare and scolding him in a voice so eerily calm that it has the other man gulping.

You know your place – you aren’t to look at her, touch her, speak to her, be anywhere near her. So tell me, what did you do today, Setsuno?

And when the other man can only respond with the truth, Kai won’t hesitate to disassemble him a few times – each with an interval longer and longer, sometimes not assembling every limb back together until it’s just barely not too late, letting him feel the excruciating pain of his arm being ripped off again and again.

There’s this twisted, maniacal look on his face as he does it - like he’s enjoying hurting Setsuno, like with every time his leg is ripped from his body, he’s ripping away some of the damage that him talking with you caused, ripping away any semblance of attraction or even a friendship between you two.

If Setsuno wasn’t busy in excruciating agony, he’d almost be scared his boss’s expression.

Kai’s pissed, and it’s only after twenty or so rounds of assembling and disassembling that he’s finally calmed down – though he won’t leave without hearing the words I’ll never come near her again, I promise! She’s yours, Overhaul, all yours!

And once he does, he’ll only firmly nod, leaving Setsuno on the cold ground, assembled yet terrified, as he retires back to his office to review the last hour’s worth of footage from your room.

Jealousy isn’t a pretty look on Kai, and he holds back absolutely no restraint when he feels that his claim on you is being tested.

So when Setsuno, one of the only people here you feel you can call a friend, begins avoiding you like the plague, don’t be surprised when Kai shows up, telling you how Setsuno’s just strange like that, always changing his mind back and forth. Don’t worry about it – I brought you a deck of cards, would you like to play?

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

To really catch Kai’s attention, a very specific set of circumstances must occur.

You must be quirkless, a civilian, and he must have stolen you off the streets for testing.

Only then, once he’s got you under his grasp already, do his feelings begin to form, in all their horrible and wonderful glory.

But, because had stolen you away before his feelings for you even manifested, there really isn’t a forming-the-obsession-and-stalking-before-kidnapping phase for him.

You’re already at the Shie Hissaikai’s base, already under his control and grasp, and as a result you’re already accessible to Kai, already close to him and so very vulnerable to his wants and whims, to him being around you as much as he pleases.

He doesn’t experience any sort of longing to steal you away, nor does he have any kind of dilemma on kidnapping you.

However, because of the way in which Kai got to know you, it creates a bit of a unique situation as his captee – you’ll find as his feelings grow and develop, as he becomes more and more dependent on you, that your surroundings seem to change, that you periodically get moved to different rooms, different spaces in which you spend the majority of your time.

The rooms get progressively nicer, larger and more private, soon getting to the point where you even have a small kitchenette in the corner, where you’re able to prepare little snacks and food items.

(Kai must always be present in the room during your little cooking episodes, however – you need to be eating healthy, making sure that you have a balanced diet, though the minute that you turn around excitedly and ask him if he’d be willing to sample whatever you made, he’s fighting a blush and nodding stiffly, trying to calm his racing heart and quell the thoughts of how you look so much like a lovely, domestic wife cooking for him…)

You won’t be sure of why you’re gradually being treated better and better, getting spoiled with gifts that you didn’t ask for, spending time with Kai in quantities that make you cock your brow but shrug, knowing that if you confront him it’ll likely be more trouble than it’s worth.

You won’t know, but Kai sure as hell does – he wants you to like him, to love him and need him, and as he progressively decides to upgrade your living space until your room is right next to his own, allowing quick and easy access (and thin walls, of course) it helps quell his desire to be near you every moment of the day, to be on your mind just as constantly as you’re on his.

And really, it’s only a plus that he can press his ear to the wall and listen to you breath at night (he moved his bed to be right next to yours, only the thin wall separating the two of you), or that he can basically speak to you through them - even as much as it terrifies you.

It’s better this way, really - it helps quell the fear of you somehow slipping through his fingers.

As his captee, your experience with him really depends on your own behavior and tolerance – the only way you would’ve ever caught his attention is being a mix of quirkless and kind, reaching out with soft, understanding words rather than screaming, fighting or cursing him out like every other test victim he’s picked up.

And so, if you keep this behavior up, Kai honestly isn’t too terrible of a captor; he’s relatively clear on what he expects from you, relatively easy to please as long as you follow his every command and keep talking to him about your day, about yourself, asking him how he’s feeling at any given moment.

He’s possessive and controlling to an almost staggering degree, yes, but his expectations are crystal clear, if a bit sterile.

And so, if you can put up with him placing cameras in your room to keep an eye on you every minute of every day, of him regulating what you eat, when you bath, how you sleep, you’ll be fine.

If you can deal with him bringing you into his office for hours on end, just having you sit and read or chat to him while he works simply because your presence is enough to help ease the stress of running the organization, then you’ll be just fine.

If you can deal with the daily check ups that progressively get more and more personal (it started with a simple blood draw, checking your temperature and an eyesight test, then gradually moved in a full body examination over your clothing, then without the clothes, then with you sitting in what appeared to be a gynecologist’s chair), then you’ll be just fine.

It’s about tolerance with Kai – if you’re patient and generally obedient, life under his rule will be surprisingly easy, even if loving the man who kidnapped you isn’t as simple.

As his feelings grow, Kai honestly gets a bit clingy; you calm him in a way he didn’t know was possible, the warmth spreading through his chest foreign and strange yet addictive as you place yourself on the leather couch opposite his desk, trying to ignore the way his amber eyes pierce through you, or the way there’s a very obvious tent in his pants when he reaches across his desk to place a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He’s wanting to visit you constantly, though he rations himself a bit if only to keep some semblance of self-control.

And though he wants to be constantly touching you, feeling your soft skin against his own (that he knows he can touch with no penalty, and since the day you willingly held his hand, he’s been harboring the fantasy of hugging you, resting his hands on your waist, cupping your cheeks, running his hands through your hair, kissing you…) and just being around you, his awkwardness when it comes to opening up to you persists even once he’s absolutely sure that he’s in love with you, that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

It’s just not that easy to tell you that his happiness depends on you now, that you’re on his mind in both the waking and sleeping world, that he’s devoted to you in every sense of the word – and so, he tries to show it to you by making sure that you’re in pristine health, that you’re spoiled with the most lavish gifts and items and goods that he can find, that you’re treated like a queen by everyone in the Shie Hissaikai, or else they’ll have hell to pay with Kai himself.

He hopes that you might understand via these methods, as it’ll take him years to fully admit to you how much you mean to him, for him to feel comfortable actually telling you those three little words he’s thinking as he stares at your sleeping form, as he watches you smile while you read a particularly happy part of your new novel.

He loves you, and as long as you stay good and obedient and personable with him, life under Kai’s rule won’t be too difficult – removed and odd, yes, but as long as the feeling that you’re some thing he’s studying and obsessing over doesn’t bother you, then you may even find yourself being okay with the locks on your doors, the threats of his men down the halls.

It’s okay, you tell yourself as he traces a single, ungloved finger across your collarbone.

It’s okay, you’re not dead yet, you’ll be okay.

PUNISHMENTS:

Despite the general softness that Kai possesses for you, he has absolutely zero patience when it comes to you misbehaving.

He’s still the boss of the Shie Hissakai, a yakuza member who’s used to being completely obeyed, to killing rebels with a flick of his wrist.

He’s still a criminal, even if you smiling at him leaves him flushed under his mask, and the moment you step out of line, he has no problem reminding you of that fact, no problem making it explicitly clear that he’s the one in charge.

He’s very much a worshipper (though more on the down-low, if only because a small part of him is still absolutely mortified that he’s fallen so deeply for someone like you), though despite seeing you as a bit of a goddess, Kai doles out punishments right and left.

Of course, there’s always the omnipresent threat of his quirk hanging over your head; you’ve been told by Rappa how excruciatingly painful undergoing a disassemblement is, and if the muscular, violent Rappa is saying that?

Well, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’d be almost glad to be dead after such an ordeal.

You’re painfully aware of just how much power Kai holds over you; how his every whim and emotion could potentially spell your death, how any small misstep (or lack thereof, to be honest) could result in your blood splattering across the walls.

And call it self preservation, but in the face of a violent, painful death at the Shie Hissakai boss’s hands, obedience begins coming quite naturally to you, as does being hyper aware of every little thing you do.

It doesn’t take long to figure out that Kai is very much not a person you want to cross, as just a few simple demonstrations of his quirk in action on unlucky yakuza underlings are almost violently shoving the truth in your face.

It becomes your mission to be the picture-esque captee, to not give him any trouble and follow his every command to a T.

After all, Kai is a difficult man to please, and while your mere presence relaxes him, makes him happy in a way he can’t remember ever experiencing, he’s not afraid to do what he needs to in order to make you understand that you will be following his every word.

Along with the ever present threat of him using his quirk on you (something which Kai has sworn he will never do, if only because he’s terrified that in doing so you’ll lose some of the precious purity you harbor), he has a tendency to use other methods to keep you in line via fear.

Killing is a part of his daily routine, and while he doesn’t particularly enjoy ending someone’s life, it’s something that he sees as necessarily in order to keep his underlings in line – and when you’re in need of a punishment?

Well, who is he to deny such wonderful timing and opportunity?

And so, when he drops by in the evening to bid you a goodnight, he can’t help but smooth his shirt down slightly and run a hand through his hair outside your door, feeling like a teenage boy with how he so desperately wants to look good for you, to impress you.

He opens the door without a knock, amber eyes flicking across the room to find you sitting on the edge of your bed with the latest book he bought for you perched in your hands, your eyes staring raptly down at the yellowed pages.

You’re so pretty when you’re focusing on something, Kai’s found, and as he watches you read with an air of complete concentration, he can’t deny that a small pang of irritation eats away at him.

He’s here, present inside your room, having sped walked through the hideout to reach you in his haste to see you, and yet you’re ignoring him in favor of a book?

It hurts a bit, if he’s being honest, if only because shouldn’t your attention be solely and completely focused on him, not some mish-mash written down on a page?

His brow twitches as he clears his throat, watching the way you jump and immediately meet his gaze, surprise flitting across your features.

You make some comment about not seeing him that only makes Kai feel worse, the distinct realization that you don’t just sense his presence as he does yours hitting him.

But before you really have any space to say more, he’s telling you to follow him, that there’s someone he’d like you to meet, which you do, hesitance eating away at your gut at the irritation swimming in his eyes.

He’d meant to have a simple conversation with you, to bask in your presence and maybe and lightly hold your hand (something that still makes him flush from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck, though he’d rather die than admit it), but now that you’ve made such a clear choice to ignore him, to prefer your book over him, he’s deciding that the man he’d planned on killing tomorrow for having made openly insubordinate comments about himself and Chrono would be receiving his punishment early, with another set of eyes viewing.

You know immediately that something is off the minute he closes the door behind you, the bald man tied to the chair in the center of the room staring wildly at you, his dark eyes pleading silently as the gag muffles any words spilling past his lips.

You can’t hide the shock and fear on your face, terror at what exactly Kai plans to do eating away at you, though when he moves to stand next to his victim you can only harshly swallow.

Tell me: do you know why I might be angry at you?

His voice is deceptively calm, apathetic yellow eyes boring into yours as you stutter out a weak ‘no’, genuinely at a loss as to why he’s upset. Kai can only frown, humming lightly before tugging a glove off, making the man beside him squirm.

I bought you those books for entertainment purposes yes, but don’t you know it’s rude to ignore others in favor of fictional characters?

You’re freezing at his words, the realization that he’d been angry at you for not noticing him earlier hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Really, I know you’re smarter than that, so I’m letting you off easy this time. But, don’t think you’ll be going completely unpunished – it’s just that Yamaro here just so happened to be willing to take the punishment for you.

The man’s eyes go wide, his squirming and struggling more desperate than before as kai unceremoniously taps a finger against his bare hand, the man immediately exploding in a shower of blood and guts, making bile rise up the back of your throat.

Kai clicks his tongue, shuddering at the splash of blood against his arm, but those cold eyes stay focused on you as you gag and look anywhere but at the sight in front of you.

It’s your fault, (f/n). If you hadn’t been so rude, he’d still be alive. Do you understand your lesson now?

That of course is not true, but Kai won’t tell you – not when you’re nodding, frantic in your desperation to get out of the room, and when Kai nods a few seconds later, opening the door, you breath heavily, staring at the cement ground in fear and shock.

The guilt is overwhelming, the idea that you’re responsible for that man’s death weighing heavily in the back of your mind, exactly as Kai hoped for.

He’s silent the rest of the night, dropping you off at your room without a word, and when you awake the next morning and he steps inside your room, you’re immediately throwing your book to the side, forcing a smile and a chirp of good morning, Kai. How are you?

It’s a bit of a dirty method yes, but Kai couldn’t care less – obedience is what he wants, and he’ll get it from you, even if he has to lie and kill right in front of your eyes.

Anything to keep you in line and his, after all.

OVERALL DANGER:

8/10

In all honesty, the danger that comes with being Kai’s darling is that there is truly, genuinely no escaping him.

He’s so thorough in his planning, so steadfast in his organization and meticulous thought put into every possible scenario that could play out with you that your future is quite literally sealed the moment he feels the trace edges of his feelings form.

Kai is, without a doubt, not a good man – his devotion to his organization is commendable, but his moral compass is deeply skewed, the mere existence of Eri enough to prove that just as he’s willing to do anything to ensure the success of the drugs, he’s willing to do absolutely anything to make sure that you stay by his side, that he gets to keep you like a prized possession that only he gets to gaze at.

You’re something he revers, his dedication to you unparalleled, and because of Kai is absolutely making sure that you’re spoiled, that he rewards his dearest, as he calls you, with the finest jewelry, the best food and the strictest schedules he possibly can in order to keep up your perfection, to keep you pristine and healthy.

He loves you, in some sick, obsessive way, and poor, poor Kai is so unused to having someone with whom he holds such deep, desperate emotional connection to that he’s honestly floundering a bit.

And lucky lucky you gets to experience every drop of cruelty, desperation and yearning the Shie Hissakai boss has to give you – and receive you shall.

Im a whore for dark content like this😓

Glitter and Rot

What better way to ring in the new year than with my favourite, degenerate twins. Happy belated new year, y'all <;33

Miya Osamu x female reader x Miya Atsumu

w.c 6.8k

tw: extreme dub-con, themes of infidelity, major character death, smut lite, slight gore/violence, somnophilia if you squint, murder, and, as always, yandere themes

The rain comes heavy, soaking the dirt beneath your bare feet. 

The cotton of your nightgown, drenched, plastered to your skin, does little to keep the chill of the midnight air from seeping into your bones. Raindrops fall from the leaves of the trees above you, dripping onto your shoulder, clinging to the ends of your hair, your eyelashes. 

In the mountains, away from the city lights, the night glitters with stars, streaks of soft moonlight spilling through the canopy on clear nights. Tonight, though, with the rain clouds looming ominously overhead, there’s no light beyond the sole beam of torchlight, steadily making its way closer towards you.

Your toes wriggle in the earth. Run. 

He calls out your name, twigs snapping in the undergrowth behind you. 

How… how did you get out here? 

The wind picks up, biting at your soaked, exposed skin. You shiver, and he calls your name again. This time you can hear a note of concern – not quite panic, though. Not yet. 

Run, that quiet voice urges.  

You take a step. Another–

And the torchlight finds you. Squinting under the sudden bright light shining on your face, there’s only a sigh, and the beam shifts downwards.

A familiar countenance peers back at you through the rain; dark hair, grey eyes, a strong jaw. Your husband. 

“You’re gonna give me a fucking heart attack one’a these days, sweetheart,” Osamu says, with a wry sort of laugh. “C’mon, let’s get’cha home.”

Holding an umbrella in one hand and the torch in the other, he passes you the latter so that his arm can snake around your middle, tucking you into his side and out of the rain. Unbothered by the dampness of your skin, he presses a kiss to your temple, his thumb rubbing at your side.

“… I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I don’t know– I don’t remember–”

He squeezes you side, offers you a crooked smile as he helps you back through the trees. Back home. “It’s fine, the Doc said this could happen, remember?” 

You do, vaguely. The Doctor had said a lot that day, most of it lost to the ringing in your ears. 

Neither of you say much as you make the trek back to the house. There’s a gentleness to the way he helps you peel off your sodden nightgown, letting the shower heat up before ushering you in. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him again, when he passes you the big, fluffy towel to rub yourself dry. 

Sorry for causing him to worry. Sorry for making him chase after you in the rain in the middle of the night. Sorry that you can’t remember what came before, the life you built with him and all the happiness surrounding it.

You feel like a shell, hollow and useless. You don’t know why he keeps putting up with it, and somewhere in the back of your mind, a nasty voice whispers that he won’t for much longer.

But Samu just shakes his head with a snort, “Don’t be stupid. You’re my wife, ya don’t apologise for anythin’.”

You muster a weak smile in return, quickly glancing away. He’s only being polite, you remind yourself, pulling the towel tighter around yourself. Accident or not, none of this is ideal. It’s been weeks now, and you haven’t gotten better. Your memories are still gone, and no one can tell you with any degree of certainty when or if they’re going to come back, not to mention that tonight officially marks the third time you’ve wandered off in your sleep.

What if your memories don’t come back? What if you never return to the person you used to be? 

Before this you had a family, friends, a history. Likes, dislikes, funny stories from your childhood and weird habits. The things that shape who you are from where you’ve been. You’re just supposed to slide back into the life you had, but how can you when you don’t know who that person was?

What kind of man would want–

“Hey,” he says, catching your jaw to coax your face back up. Grey eyes appraise you, a frown pulling at his features. “I mean it. None of this is your fault. Not the accident, or your memories, the sleepwalking, none of it. And I’m not going anywhere either, alright?”

He holds your gaze, surveying you intently until you bob your head in agreement. 

“Good girl. Now are ya comin’ back to bed or are ya planning on leavin’ your poor husband high and dry for a second time tonight?”

Your cheeks heat, the heaviness between you easing somewhat as amusement dances across his face. He’s handsome, almost intimidatingly so – striking features and excellent bone structure. Something coils in your stomach as the weight of his gaze bores into you. Taking your face in his palms, his thumb brushes along the curve of your cheekbone. Slowly. 

Your mouth parts then, but whatever response you have is lost as his lips descend on yours, kissing you deeply. 

When he pulls away, when you’re breathless and slightly dazed, satisfaction and more than a touch of pride gleams from his expression.

“Though we might have to invest in some better locks. Don’t want ya wandering off too far on me.”

—

Sometimes it feels like you’re waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under you.

As if you’ve woken in someone else’s life, or a dream, and it’s only a matter of time before it all comes crashing down and you’re whisked away back to reality. A handsome, devoted husband, not one but two houses – the mountainside retreat you’re staying at while you get better, and a place in the city you haven’t yet seen – even the ring on your finger, the bright, sparkling diamond that sits next to your platinum wedding band. 

How can it be real? 

He tells you that the two of you work together in his restaurant back home, and that too  sounds sweet in an oddly domestic way.

And looks can be deceiving, you know that. Money, success, the image of a perfectly happy couple, it doesn’t mean anything. Façades can crack, rot can fester beneath the surface, slowly eating away. 

Everything he tells you sounds so… good.

You’re happy. In love. Fulfilled with your job and comfortable enough financially for the both of you to take the time off while you’re still trying to fix the broken pieces of yourself.

Accident aside, no one gets everything they want. Surely no one can be this happy. 

There’s a niggling sense of unease that bites and gnaws. No one can be this happy. 

There’s a woman who keeps calling Osamu’s phone. You know because those are the calls he lets ring out, ignoring them until he thinks you’re asleep or busy, distracted by whatever task he’s set you on for the day. 

He calls her Hikari. No, that’s not entirely true now, is it – he calls her Kari. 

“Kari, you know I wanna be there, but I can’t. Things are just– it’s not a good time right now, s’all.”

And the house is quiet enough that you can hear her desperate sniffles on the other end of the line, “Samu, please, this is important. I need you back here.”

He huffs, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair, pacing the length of the living room. “I can’t,” he repeats. “I’m sorry, I am, but after everythin’… it’s too much.”

She cries again, and it’s a strange thing but your heart squeezes in response. She sounds so broken, so lost and scared, a fragile, pitiable thing. “… I know… “ her voice trembles, “Despite what happened, I know you still care about her. I need you to come back. Please, Samu.”

You slip away then, unable to bear it anymore.

Sliding back beneath the covers of your bed, you let out the shuddering breath you’d been holding, trying to process the conversation you’d overheard. 

There were perhaps other explanations beyond an affair, but as you lie there, mulling it over, none come to mind. If she were a friend–

‘I know you still care about her.’

No. You’re not that naive. Maybe you were before the accident, or maybe you had suspicions, hell, maybe you’d physically caught him in the act – you suppose none of that matters anymore, does it? All that matters is what you’re going to do with this new development.

And as your husband returns a few minutes later, crawling into bed beside you, an arm hooked over your waist, the warmth of his muscular frame pressed up against your back chasing away the winter chill, you wonder if he sees this as some kind of atonement.

Osamu exhales, nuzzling closer in an effort to get more comfortable, and amidst the strange heaviness in your chest, you close your eyes and will yourself back to sleep. 

—

If Osamu knows that you eavesdropped on his call last night, he gives no indication come morning. Although, admittedly, that might be because of your visitor.

The day the Doctor came to the house, he’d said a lot about what was happening to you. A result of head trauma, there was no telling if or when your memories might return. 

He’d spoken to Osamu, taking your concerned looking husband aside just before he’d left.

“What did he say?” you’d asked when he’d returned dutifully to your side.

He hadn’t answered straight away, choosing instead to reach out and take your hand in his. For a moment, his focus remained on your entwined fingers, and then he’d said, “To take things slow. Too many people, too much it might… might overwhelm ya. Until things are better, it’s best if it’s just you ‘n me.”

Today, apparently, marked a change to that, because his twin brother was arriving to stay for a little while. 

Which, shortly after mid morning, he does. 

Naturally, you’ve seen pictures, you and the twins back in highschool, posing with a friend of theirs, grinning toothily and laughing at the camera. Seeing the two of them in person, though – it’s a whole other ball game.

Next to each other, they’re a mirror image, but… not. Tiny, subtle differences that weirdly make them appear more similar than less. It doesn’t make any sense at all, and yet you have no other way of explaining it. 

Osamu stands at your side, his arm slung over your shoulder as his brother pulls up front in a fancy, fast looking car. Atsumu, however, pays him no mind,  eyes – a few shades browner than his brother’s – fixed solely on you, a familiar, smirking grin broadening across his handsome visage.

Osamu tells you that the three of you are close, yet with only a faint, glimmering recognition and your husband’s words to fall back on, it’s hard to know how you’re supposed to greet someone you once knew and loved.

With an arm loosely wrapped around your front, you settle for a smile. 

Atsumu notes this with a raised eyebrow. “Aw, c’mon now, that ain’t no way to greet your favourite twin, is it?”

Before you can stop him he’s on you, yanking you away from Osamu so he can pick you up into a near crushing hug, spinning you around for good measure. You shriek and bury your face in his neck, clinging to him while he laughs, eventually setting you down on wobbly feet.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he says, ignoring Samu’s disapproving scowl in favour of taking you in, hands settling on your waist. And there must be some giveaway, a hesitance he notes because his demeanour turns curious, head tilting to the side, “Still nothin’, huh?”

You shake your head, shrugging. “Sorry.”

Feels like that’s all you’re capable of saying lately. 

“Nah, don’t be. Not your fault.”

While you don’t necessarily agree – it’s hard not to think of any of this as some kind of moral failing, as though the only reason you can’t recover those precious memories is because you’re simply not trying hard enough – it’s… nice having someone else around to help fill in the gaps a little.

Not that you aren’t endlessly grateful to Osamu – more than you actually know how to convey to him, and you have tried. It’s just that when you woke up in an unfamiliar bedroom, being watched over by a man you didn’t recognise, and with no memories of who you were or what had happened, you hadn’t reacted well.

Being your husband (the issue of fidelity aside), he’s supposed to be the person who matters the most to you, and you assume that’s a two way street. In a sense, forgetting him is its own kind of betrayal, with that comes the heaviness of expectations and fears and awfulness.

Plus, things have been… strained between you two, lately. 

So yes, having Atsumu here as a sort of buffer between you two is a relief. Having someone else to help fill in the gaps in your life, to tell you about the person you used to be – the one you’re trying to fit back into – even more so.

“That year we made it all the way to the finals before gettin’ knocked out.”

His finger draws across the picture; the volleyball team, sweaty and defeated, bowing before the roaring crowd. All these years later, now a pro playing in arguably one of the best teams in the country (according to him), a two-time Olympic medalist, and he still sounds pissed about it.

You bite back a giggle, following when he turns the page of the year book. “I dunno, second in the nation when you’re still in high school doesn't sound too bad to me.”

“You were there that day.” 

Glancing up, you find Osamu considering the two of you from the kitchen, elbow deep in food prep for dinner. “I was?”

He nods. “Yeah. Ya came to all our games, right from the start.”

“There,” Atsumu taps on the next page, a picture of a younger you cheering wildly from the stands, hands cupped around your mouth to amplify your shouts, maroon ribbons in your hair. “Our cute little cheerleader.”

“We begged ya to become our manager, but ya kept turnin’ us down,” Samu adds, then smirks, “Said you couldn’t stand being around Tsumu for another ten hours a week.”

The dig reaches its mark, Atsumu sneering as he flips Samu the bird, while his other arm slides from the backrest of the couch to drape over your shoulders. You hardly notice, utterly transfixed by the book on Tsumu’s lap. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how weird it is to be seeing these pictures, like peering into some alternate universe; you, but not you. You look happy, though.

It makes your heart ache a little.

Did you like sports, or was it more of a school pride sort of thing, you wonder. Or was it them – him, really – who drew you into it? If you watched a game now, would you feel anything, some glint of recognition? Excitement?

Flipping the page, you study the various pictures until one in particular catches your eye – only after a second glance. To be fair, the photo isn’t of you – well, it is, but you’re not the focus. Rather it’s of two girls who appear to be in the same year as you, posing cutely with each other on the school’s courtyard. Behind them, though, in the background there’s a wooden picnic bench in the shade of an oak. Perched cross-legged atop it, sitting amongst piled up books and notes, there’s you – and you’re not alone.

Shoulders back, eyes closed, soaking in the rays of the sun filtering through the leaves sits another boy. Not Osamu, one of his teammates, a dark haired kid you recognise from a bunch of the old photos they’d shown you.

The image itself might not be so remarkable – you’re not doing anything all that interesting, one of a number of people captured in the background, and slightly out of focus at that– if not for the one tiny detail that has a strange feeling racing through your heart.

Barely visible but for the way you study it, your hand is curled in his. 

“– listenin’?”

“Huh?”

Mid-way through scraping out his rice, Osamu fixes you with an odd expression. Atsumu, however, just snickers and flicks your forehead. “Ya always were a little spacey.”

Halfheartedly, you chuckle along with him.

The smart thing to do – perhaps the right thing – would be to leave it. 

Samu told you the two of you dated right through high school, so it can’t be anything like that. There’s a possibility the two of you were just close. Good friends, judging by how often he appears in the photos with you and the twins. He’d told you your parents, the only family you had, died in an accident years ago, but Samu hasn’t really spoken much about your friends. You know why, and understand it to an extent – he doesn’t want to stress you out unnecessarily, not while you’re still so fragile.

‘The doc said we gotta take things slow, baby.’

Nevertheless, your lips part, the question burning on the tip of your tongue–

Suddenly, as has become a frequent occurrence in the past few days, Osamu’s phone blares to life, the loud vibrations against the marble countertop startling all three of you. 

He doesn’t answer it, by this point you no longer expect him to. 

—

You dream of fingers running through dark hair, of lips smiling lazily. Someone laughing, ‘You’re an idiot.’

There’s a warmth, a slow burning heat that ignites in your body, trailing from your jaw, down the slope of your neck, dancing along delicate collarbone, another unfurling deep within your core. You chase the pleasant sensations, a soft, pretty moan drawn from parted lips. 

Only when teeth bite down, a tender nip to sensitive flesh are you roused from your dreams to find your husband straddling you, his mouth now between your breasts, dark eyes that glint in the low morning light taking in your visage as you slowly come to. 

“S-Samu, wha–”

“Shh.” He chuckles, your stomach flipping at the deep rumble, “Relax. Gonna make ya feel good, baby.”

Whatever protests you might have (if you have any at all) are lost when you realise that the heat pooling in your guts is due to the two digits Osamu has curled up inside of you, slowly easing in and out.

It isn’t the first time the two of you have been intimate since the accident, and while you hadn’t fought him those times either, there’s a slight niggling sensation, nearly lost to the burgeoning pleasure, that twists and knots at the thought of what’s to come.

There’s no possible way of knowing how often you’ve had sex with each other in the years you’ve been together. For him, this must be old hat. For you though, with no frame of reference, no past partners to call to mind, there’s an edge of vulnerability you wish you could get rid of.

A hesitance you don’t give a voice to – not that Samu offers you much of an opening to do so. 

Pushing up the hem of your nightdress, your husband lifts your hips enough to ease off your panties, dragging them slowly down smooth legs until they’re dangling from one ankle, and you kick them aside.

Spreading them either side of his broad frame, Osamu stands briefly to rid himself of his own underwear, crawling on all fours back between your legs – gripping one thigh to sink his teeth into soft, delectable flesh – his tongue quick to soothe the hurt when you cry out.

“A-Atsumu, he’s gonna wake up,” you murmur as he once more takes you by the waist, hefting you forward so that you lie flush against him, your legs hiked up over his hips. 

The very last thing you want right now is an audience.

With one hand, he strokes his cock with the fingers that had been buried inside your pussy, spreading the glistening mix of your slick and his pre over the thick member. The other’s planted near your shoulder, keeping him stable while he rolls his hips forward, slowly bullying his cock into your warm, tight little cunt. Osamu grins roguishly, lowering his top half down to hover above you as you fist at the sheets, your spine arcing, ankles locking over his back.

“Maybe–” he grunts, relishing in the sounds of your sweet cries and gasps as he inches his way into stuffing you full. “Maybe I want him to hear.”

—

A heavy weight drops onto the couch beside you. “Somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart?”

You fiddle with the rings on your left hand. How many times now have you caught yourself toying with them, completely lost in contemplation, their weight on your finger almost foreign? 

A few times now you’ve taken them off to wash up and forgotten about them entirely, not noticing their absence until Samu himself comes to take your hand in his and slide them back on. 

Did you used to do that before the accident?

No… no, you probably spent days marvelling at them, wiggling your fingers to make the diamond sparkle in the light. You were probably enthralled by the pretty thing. Blissfully in love. 

Happy.

“I think Osamu’s cheating on me.”

You don’t dare raise your eyeline when you say it, afraid of what you’ll see. You might be his wife, however poor a job you’re currently doing, yet the one person Osamu’s closest to is undeniably his brother. 

Since Tsumu arrived three days ago, all they’ve done is bicker between themselves, and yet without either of them saying as much, the writing’s on the wall. It’s in the looks they share, full of silent conversations you’re not privy to and won’t ever have a hope of understanding. In the way they move around each other, that implicit, frankly unnerving trust they have with one another. 

There are things Osamu can’t share with you – or won’t, maybe – but there’s not a doubt in your mind that if Samu were sleeping with somebody else, if he loved them as he claimed to love you, Atsumu knows about it.

It’s not confirmation that you’re searching for, though. You doubt he’d admit it to begin with – between you and Samu, there’s no question of which side his loyalty falls. This isn’t about that.

For days now, weeks, you’ve had this gnawing pit in your stomach that keeps getting worse, and worse and worse. 

With each day that passes, you should be making some kind of progress towards regaining your memories or, if not that, then at the very least becoming more comfortable around him. Yet you still feel like a stranger inhabiting this body, and to make matters worse, your marriage might be failing before you can try to adjust yourself to it. 

Atsumu’s really the last person you should be saying this to. It’s the sort of thing you accidentally let slip to a friend after one too many glasses of wine, letting them comfort you and offer advice, commiserate, even.

Yet Samu won’t so much as bring up the friends you had before for fear of making things worse – because you’re fragile and weak, and you haven’t shown any signs of getting better. From the complete and utter radio silence on their ends, you can only assume none of them bothered to fight him on it. 

Again, rationally speaking you can understand it – that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting in its own bitter way.

Beside you, Atsumu laughs. Actually laughs. 

Indignation – hurt – burns, heating your cheeks as your hands curl into pathetic little fists in your lap and shake. Much to your dismay, tears prickly uncomfortably at your waterline. You go to say something, only for a lump to settle in your throat, blocking all noise. You didn’t think he’d spill the truth just like that, but to laugh at you?

In a split second decision you start to rise, planning on stalking off to go lick your wounds alone in your bedroom until Samu comes home, when a hand on your shoulder stops you.

He chuckles again when he’s met with your poisonous glare, “Hey, c’mon. Don’t run away, I wasn’t laughin’ atcha.”

Raising an eyebrow, you scoff. His lips curl into a smirk, hands coming up in a peaceful gesture. “Okay, okay, I was but… s’just funny to me that you think Samu’d ever look twice at another girl. He’s been in love with ya pretty much from day one.” 

The words should be more of a reassurance than they are. Your shoulders rise and fall, a tight shrug as your gaze dips once more to your lap, to the rings that shine mockingly on your left hand. 

Atsumu, however, isn’t so willing to drop the subject. 

“Nah, you don’t get to say some wild shit like that ‘n then go all quiet on me. Explain.”

If you got up and left, would he follow you? Probably, you muse. If anything, Atsumu’s proven over the past few days that he’s nothing if not persistent. He’s clearly amused, at your expense, mind you, yet the way he scrutinises you now, the slight narrowing of his eyes, that reminds you of a dog with a bone. 

No, he won’t let this go.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you shrug again, “There’s this girl– woman, I guess. She keeps calling him… Samu won’t talk to her if I’m around.” You swallow tightly, “I–I overheard them, the last time she rang, and…” 

“What’d ya hear?”

You fiddle with the hem of your skirt as that tell tale prickle stings at your tear ducts. After your early morning tumble in the sheets, you’d thought that things might’ve been different between you two. But Samu still left, some hollow excuse about running errands, and all you can think is that he’s with her now, that whatever you gave wasn’t enough and–

“Look at me.” Atsumu’s no longer laughing. If anything, he actually looks mildly pissed off by the whole thing, his jaw tightening even as he tries for a reassuring smile, scooching closer and touching your shoulder again, “What did she say to him?”

“She told him she needed him, begged him to come home.” Your voice breaks, just as the dam to your tears do, tumbling down your cheeks as your shoulders shake and crumple inwards. 

Atsumu runs his tongue over his teeth before muttering a quiet curse, and you suppose that that’s confirmation enough. Without a word he pulls you into his arms, your face held to his chest while he strokes your back and you cling to him in turn, letting all the frustration and grief and confusion of the past few weeks spill out  of you in horrid, trembling cries. 

You don’t know how long you sit there, half cradled in Atsumu’s lap before he finally speaks, “I don’t care what ya heard. Samu loves you more than anythin’, we both do. He ain’t gonna throw that away for nobody.”

Drawing back, he takes your cheek in one hand, cupping it in his palm, the broad pad of his thumb sweeping away the remnants of your tears with a tenderness that near breaks your heart. 

“I mean it,” he says. You’re close enough that the warmth of his breath tickles your skin, that you can count every last one of his eyelashes. Your stomach flutters. “You mean everything to us. Nothin’s gonna get in the way of that.”

And before you can stop him, before you can blink, Atsumu’s closing the gap between you, his lips meeting yours. 

Like a computer short circuiting, there’s nothing you can do but freeze and falter as he kisses you, wholly unbothered by your lack of participation. His lips are surprisingly soft, warm as they move against yours, and while his tongue brushes along your lower lip, he makes no real effort to deepen it, seemingly content with the contact he has. 

Your heart pounds against your ribcage so violently that it drowns out all other noise. Your stomach twists, flips, churning as he moans softly into your mouth, but for the life of you, you can’t move, can’t stop this. You’re frozen. Shellshocked. Only when Atsumu breaks away, pupils dilated, eyes slightly glazed over, wearing a stupid, self satisfied little grin do you finally gain control over your body again.

By that point, he’s already shifting to settle you back on the couch, rising himself. “Samu and I love ya. We aren’t goin’ anywhere, stop worrying your pretty little head about it, yeah?”

And then he’s walking away, whistling as he goes.

—

A little while later, Atsumu calls out that he’s going for a run. You don’t acknowledge it. 

The front door opens. Closes. The sun moves across the sky, minutes tick by, and eventually he returns, sweaty and panting, popping his head in the door to make sure you’re right where he left you.

The whole time you sit stationary on your bed, staring vacantly out the window to the forest that lies beyond. Numb, just numb.

“Gonna go have a shower, then I think you ‘n me should talk before Samu gets back.” He waits and you don’t acknowledge him. Shrugging off his shirt, something wicked enters his expression, “Unless ya wanna come join me?”

That, finally, gets a reaction; your head jerking back to regard him with wide, scandalised eyes, “What?”

He winks, snickers when your gaze drops briefly below his shoulders, eyeing his muscular chest, the well defined planes of his stomach. A bead of sweat rolls from his neck, you track its path with a rapt focus, down to his navel, the smattering of hair there, the cut of the V shaped muscles that draw your attention towards– 

Abruptly, you force your attention upwards, cheeks burning as blood rushes to your face.

Atsumu, grinning smugly, missed none of it. “Next time, then.”

And with that, he waltzes off, leaving the door ajar.

… What the hell?

What the actual fuck?

Head reeling, you have no idea how you’re supposed to process this sudden shift in… well, everything. Had this – you and Atsumu – happened before? Did Osamu know about it? 

Were you cheating, too? 

Was that what your relationship with Osamu was; two deeply unhappy people screwing countless others to avoid fixing whatever it was that festered between them.

Your mind jumps to the picture you’d seen in the year book, you and that boy on the picnic bench, your hand wrapped around his. Osamu told you that you’d been dating ever since your high school days, had you been unfaithful that whole time – spreading your legs for his friends and brother until he gave up trying to be loyal in return?

You feel sick at the thought. 

What other option is there, though? What explanation? Either Atsumu’s being particularly cruel and messing with you, or he isn’t and you’re apparently more than okay fucking not only your husband but his brother as well.

‘Despite what happened, I know you still care about her.’ Hikari’s words ring mockingly in your head. All this time you’ve been so bent out of shape over the idea of Osamu with another woman, and it’s now occurring to you that maybe you might’ve been the one to drive him to it.

Despite what happened.

You draw in a shuddering breath, you bring a hand to your lips, either to stifle a sob or to keep yourself from throwing up, you’re not entirely sure which. 

And as the sound of running water filters through the room, so too does a sense of calm clarity. 

For weeks now you’ve been trying to make this work, trying to slip back into the person you were, a life that you don’t truly remember.

And it isn’t working. 

You still don’t feel normal around Osamu. You don’t remember anything, and despite what you’d been told from the start – despite fighting it every step of the way – you have to accept the possibility that that might not change.

Your spine straightens, the grip you have on the duvet easing as you take another, calmer breath in, letting it fill your lungs and clear your head.

The answer’s been staring you in the face this whole time. If you can’t find your way back to the life you led before you got hurt, perhaps rather than clinging to a past that doesn’t truly belong to you anymore, it’s time you cut it loose and walk away.

A clean break doesn’t sound like such a bad idea when the current situation promises nothing but messiness, hurt and heartbreak for everyone involved.

Even if the thought of going it alone is a terrifying one. 

Even if it means leaving the one – now two, you suppose – people who stood by your side in the aftermath behind.

And as if the universe senses the tumultuousness inside your head, the sharp, trilling sound of a ringtone shatters it, snapping you out of your thoughts and back into the moment. 

You figure that it must be Atsumu’s phone and despite being startled, you’re content to let it ring out – after all, it’s not your phone, not your business. 

Atsumu’s a professional athlete, an incredibly successful one at that, there could be any number of important people on the other end of the line, and if it’s critical, whoever it is can leave a message. You’re not his receptionist.

After a few seconds, the ringing stops. And begins again.

Frowning, you push yourself up from the bed, heading towards the dining room. Atsumu’s still in the shower, you can hear the faucet running, your only thought is that if it’s Samu and it’s something urgent, he won’t mind. 

Except when you find it, lit up and vibrating on the kitchen bench, the caller ID isn’t his twin’s. Again, the ringing stops, and again, after a short beat, it begins anew. 

The picture that fills the screen is of a pretty girl with dimples, her arms looped around a familiar looking brunet.

Not Osamu, but the boy from the yearbook. Older, of course, smiling lazily at the camera while she pokes her tongue out and throws up two peace signs. 

Little Suna, the caller ID tells you, and in brackets next to a sun emoji; Hikari.

Your heart squeezes, a thick lump settling in your throat as you survey the image of the two of them. But it isn’t dismay, or the hurt you’d felt earlier when Osamu was hiding her. You can’t put a finger on what it is exactly, only that looking at that picture fills you with an incomprehensible and near overwhelming sense of grief, like someone’s clawed their way into your chest, taken your still beating heart in their hand and slowly, agonisingly, ripped it from you.

Without consciously choosing to do so, you slide the little bar across, answering the call and clicking on the speaker icon.

“H-hello?”

The silence you’re met with is heavy. Pregnant. Why did you pick up? Why the hell did you answer?! Panic and common sense sets in and you silently curse yourself for being so stupid, your finger moving to hurriedly tap the end call button. 

And then you hear her gasp, a tiny, sharp little thing that spears right through you. Hikari stutters your name, “You… Wha– they… they found you?”

She starts to laugh then, or maybe she’s sobbing, it’s difficult to tell exactly. 

“You’re okay?” she asks, the sound muffled by choked, ragged noises. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re okay! A-after they found Rin, I-I thought–”

White noise drowns her out.

… Rin.

Rin…taro. 

Suna.

Your knees go weak, giving way beneath you. Pain sings through your kneecaps as they collide with the wooden floorboards, but it’s nothing compared to the agony that overtakes your chest, spreading with every beat of your frantic heart until it’s the only thing you can feel, and you cling to it. Desperate. Gasping.

There’s a frantic noise somewhere, Hikari calling your name; it’s lost to the pounding haze. Nothing more than the buzz of a gnat flittering around your head.

Every thought eddies from your head, only him. Only that name; Suna Rintaro.

And suddenly–

“You’re an idiot, you know?”

You laugh, throwing an arm around his shoulder as you wriggle your fingers in front of his face, admiring the sparkling ring. “But it’s so pretty, don’t you think? It suits me.”

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow when you turn to cheekily grin at him, “Considering I was the one who picked it, yeah, that was kind of the idea.”

Giggling, you stretch up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

………

“Gin can’t make it. Somethin’ about his girlfriend and the baby,” Rin mutters, appearing in the doorway of your bedroom. “So it’ll just be us and the twins, I guess.”

“Well geez, no need to sound too excited about it,” you say, eyeing your boyfriend – fiancé now, you have to keep reminding yourself – from the mirror as you battle with the clasp of your necklace. “It’s fine, we’ll see him when we see Kita and the others next month.”

A few seconds pass with no sign of victory, and Rin rolls his eyes, “Let me.” 

He comes up behind you, taking the delicate gold chain from your fingers and nimbly clasping it shut in what feels like a mockery of your struggles. Adjusting the pendant so that it falls better, he exhales, letting his arms fold loosely around you, his chin coming to a rest atop your head. 

The faint crease between his brows, the set of his jaw – to anyone else he might appear bored, annoyed even. You aren’t so easily fooled. You know Rin, know better than to push. It’s not hard to guess what’s bothering him, though. “You think it’ll be weird?”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then he shrugs, “I think it’ll be weirder without Gin.”

“It was years ago, they’ve both moved on – a long, long time ago. They’re our friends, Rin. The only thing they’re gonna be is happy for us.”

………

A hand covering your mouth, another roughly shaking your shoulder, rousing you from sleep. “Shh, shh, it’s just me. There’s someone in the house,” Rin’s voice whispers in your ear. “Get under the bed and don’t make a sound, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Rin–”

“Not a fucking sound!” he hisses, and quietly slips from the bed. As if on cue, a loud shattering noise cuts through the room, and terror, absolute terror, grips you. You do as he bids, limbs shaking and clumsy, the sound of every breath enhanced in the quiet stillness Rintaro leaves behind. You clamp a hand over your mouth to try and muffle it.

You wait, and wait, trembling in the darkness.

And then a crash, heavier than the last one. Rintaro’s yelling, more voices raised, more muted thumps, grunting and howling bellows of agony that have every hair on your body standing on end, and abruptly–

Silence.

It rings in your ear, echoing.

Your pulse thunders, every beat of your heart pumping a paralysing mix of fear and panic through your body. You’re shaking like a leaf, tears streaming down your cheeks as you try – try so desperately – not to make a noise like Rin told you to.

The footsteps that approach have your blood running cold, and you squeeze your eyes shut, wheezing terrified breaths as you choke back sobs and pray that they won’t find you. 

You aren’t that lucky.

You aren’t that quiet.

They stop at the foot of the bed. Two of them. One bends down, a hand finding your ankle and with a snickering laugh, yanks you out into the open. 

You scream and fight against the figures clad head to toe in black, thrashing like a wild thing for all the good that it does you. You’re determined not to go easy – at least, not until they carry you out past the living room, the mess they left there.

Rin, but not Rin. Not with his face brutalised like that, his skull all caved in, limbs broken and splayed out all wrong.

No.

No, no, no, no.

One eye, empty and lifeless, staring back–

It’s too much.

You blink, jerking back to the present with a heaving gasp. Glancing up, your gut tightens into a knot as two things become starkly apparent. 

One; Osamu’s finally returned, standing half frozen in the doorway, appraising you with an uncharacteristically cold expression.

Two; it’s deathly quiet. Turning your head, you find that the call with Kari’s gone silent, a shirtless Atsumu, hair damp, a towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips, gripping his phone, jaw tightly clenched.

It twists into an awful sort of forced grin when he notices you’ve come back to them. 

“I really, really wish ya hadn’t done that, baby.”

Sillykuna lol

Of course I'm my husband's cheerleader as I should😌😌

Bimbo MC

Lucifer, Mammon, Beelzebub

Gn reader, although described as, a trophy, cheerleader, wearing makeup and jewelry, just being more feminine than i would normally write.

Part 2 !here!

Hey guys! very very sorry about the wait again but i hope you love it! i got inspired when i was reading slasher fan fiction, love love love it when the reader is hyper fem and sooo dim

Lucifer

Y'all are literally so cute, the style contrast of the pink y2k with his dark brooding style.

You're blissfully unaware about how whipped Luci is for you, the way he relaxes when you enter the room. How he seems actually happy when you accompany him to whatever business dinner or ball, hanging off his arm and taking all the attention off of him.

Luci kinda treats you like a trophy, he just likes having someone who spends so much time taking care of themselves, but anyone who takes a closer look at your relationship, they'll know it's not just that with the endless amount of questions you ask him.

Overall your relationship with him is very healthy, you taking care of yourself makes him want to take care of himself, you just rub off on him, your energy.

Mammon

MY FAV PROBABLY dumb x dumb, Mams gives sugar daddy attitude, especially with how clingy he is, i mean come on

He takes you to the casino just to show you off, keeping you on his lap, telling you to blow on the dice during crabs, and definitely consensually uses you to get free drinks

Mams definitely spoils you with clothes, makeup, and jewelry, which is where the sugar daddy thing comes in, people are CONVINCED that's the only reason you're with each other, money, which of course leads to doubt on both of your ends, in the beginning of the relationship there's lots of comfort for both of you as you learn to ignore the mean people.

Y'all are both so dumb so you often spend lots of time studying together, with the occasional phone call to satan, you inspire each other to be better.

Beelzebub

CHEERLEADER AND FOOTBALL PLAYER OMGGG that's it that's the headcannon. No more im done, it's just too cute and perfect.

You def go to his games to cheer him on, and you distract him so much, he is so whipped, he loses points just to look at you,

Will follow you around like a puppy while you get ready, doing your skin care, makeup, picking an outfit, and some jewelry, just likes being with you and if you allow him to spoon you a little or hold his hand he will melt.

Overall very very healthy, your his cheerleader for everything he does and he just gives you so much love in return!!