"sir flins, the cemetery looks awfully small from up here at the top of the lighthouse. i think i might be feeling rather dizzy."
"i wouldn't let you fall. then perhaps there'd be something in the rumours that the lightkeeper who lives here is in love with one of the ghosts, and i simply couldn't bear to have so many visitors gawking at it all. you know how i value my . . . privacy."
"ah. that's the only reason my safety is assured, then?"
". . . perhaps there are one or two more."
my first ever natflins commission from the lovely lovely mel on vgen! i am so happy with it . . . look at how soft and sweet they look. my most beloved weirdo x weirdo ship <3
Thinking how someone could spoil you rotten but it's a selfish gesture and they are actually ruining you for anybody else. Giving you anything you need anytime you want. Fussing over you and dressing you up, undressing you too and tucking you in bed, asking in the sweetest voice what do you want from them tonight with their fingers tucked so deep inside you it's hard to come up with a true answer. Having you pretty much be their baby and princess and doll until the point it's a bit objectifying but you've never felt as safe and loved as with them so it's okay
2d man that has an extremely comfortable couch in his office that literally no one is allowed to sit on ever bc it’s just for when you come to visit him and want to take a nap until you can go home with him
Osamu stops to think about what he's doing to Atsumu, and he does it anyways.
PAIRING: osamu x reader, atsumu x reader
WARNINGS: angst, unhappy ending, unrequited feelings, love triangle, hookups/soft-core smut, hate fucking, casual unprotected sex, betrayal, fist fights, pov switching, unreliable narrators, alcohol, smoking, out of character miya twins, unlikeable reader, MDNI
WORD COUNT: 10.3K
thank you to @birdiechirps for being my beta reader and my best friend i love you
It's midnight. You're thinking about going home, and then you hear the call of your name.
Atsumu beams when he sees you, standing outside the bar with a stamp on your hand and a cigarette in your mouth. You blow smoke in his face. He laughs. "Holy shit, I missed ya," Atsumu whines, throwing an arm around you and pulling you into his chest. He's sweaty, skin slick against yours. "Where've ya been?"
He doesn't let you go. You raise your cigarette and take another drag. "Here," you tell him, cheek pressed against his shirt. "'M always here."
You're probably Atsumu's worst friend. He knows this. His texts go unanswered and unread on your phone. He invites you to parties you never go to and sends you money you don't pay back. He calls you to cry and you don't answer. Atsumu treats you with an enthusiasm and dedication that you've never understood or bothered to return. He doesn't complain. In the face of your indifference, Atsumu always comes back for more.
He squeezes you again, and then lets you go. You take a step back. "I got fuckin' shitfaced after my game Friday and came looking for ya, but Mori said he kicked ya out for spitin' in some dude's face."
Atsumu talks, and you stand on your toes to look over his shoulder, because it's Sunday night, and you know that whever Atsumu goes, the other one is sure to follow. You fall back on your heels. "Yeah, I definitely did that."
"Asshole probably deserved it," Atsumu says, and somehow, his arm finds its way over your shoulder again. He's like that. Touchy and needy and clingy. It doesn't bother you as much as it used to. You rest your head on his shoulder. "Y'know, Bokuto got kicked out a club that night too. Called me all drunk and whiny thinkin' I was his damn boyfriend."
Atsumu keeps rambling. You half-listen, eyes closing, occasionally humming in response. It's easy being around Atsumu, easy to like him like you do. He doesn't really expect anything from you. You nuzzle your forehead against the crook of his neck. He smells like spicy cologne and sweat. You can feel his words vibrate in his throat.
"-and I tell 'im, 'Bokkun, this is like the third time ya sent me yer dick. I'm startin' to think it's not an accident,'" Atsumu continues, and you're swaying to the sound of his voice. You could fall asleep right here in the alley behind your favorite bar.
"Oi, Tsumu! Keep yer hands to yerself. Ya don't know where she's been."
And there it is.
As easy as it is to like Atsumu, it's about ten times easier to hate his brother. Osamu is, and always has been, a fucking dick. At least to you. You turn away from Atsumu's hold to glare at him as he approaches.
Osamu saunters up from behind with this look of disgust and annoyance that he really only seems to have for you. It makes your spine straighten out. You drop your cigarette to the ground and stomp it out.
"I'd take my chances with her before you," Atsumu shoots back, nose crinkling. "Ya smell like fish and garbage."
If you weren't too busy glaring at Osamu, you would've noticed the unsure way Atsumu's arm twitches towards you.
Osamu's hard stare is on you when he says, "Are ya sure? Cause I could smell the chain-smoking alcoholism from the bar."
"Miya, I'm so happy to see you I could kill myself," you bite at him. "Did you have another good day of giving all your customers listeria?"
"Yer wit is unbelievable, y'know that?" Osamu bites back. Something that feels like hatred bubbles in your blood.
The first time you met Osamu, Atsumu had drunkenly introduced the two of you with slurred words and hands clasped over each of your shoulders. And all you had ever heard from anyone was about how fucking great Osamu was. That if you liked Atsumu, you would love his brother.
But Osamu had given you a once-over with narrowed, harsh eyes, and turned to his brother to say, "This is her?"
Atsumu gave him a wide-eyed, panicked look and quickly nodded. He tried to sound as sober as possible when he said, in a higher octave than usual, "Yeah, Samu, this is her."
Osamu just scoffed and turned away, and he didn't bother to say anything to you, then or for the rest of the night. So you hated him. You hated him because he was rude and fucking nasty and the exact opposite of everything anyone had ever told you about him.
And ever since then, every interaction with him has been nothing more than snide remarks and outright disdain. Atsumu has asked you, more than once, to try to get along with his brother, and every time, you scrunch up your face in disgust. You aren't about to beg for kidness from someone who has no intention of giving it to you.
You could go on hating Osamu for as long as he hates you. You don't really mind.
Atsumu breaks the tension by clapping his brother on the back. "Let's get a drink, yeah? I'd kill for a fuckin' dirty Shirley right now."
Osamu snorts, and turns to return to the bar, but you remain where you are. "Actually, I think I'm gonna head home."
Atsumu pouts. "What? I didn't even get to spend any time with ya."
"Just let her go. I didn't wanna put up with her all night, anyways," Osamu calls back, looking over his shoulder.
You shoot Osamu a look. "Kill yourself." You turn to Atsumu, and soften. "I'll talk to you later, kay?"
You won't. Atsumu will text you at least five times and you will respond maybe once. You will not see him again until he has enough free time to return to this same bar you're at almost every night. It's cyclical.
His eyes glisten. "Okay. Yeah. I'll see ya later."
Atsumu reaches out like he's going to touch you again, but he stops himself. Osamu has already returned to the bar.
You wake up to your phone buzzing. Your head hurts and it's annoying. With closed eyes, you slap your hand against your nightstand until it finds your phone. You're not surprised at the name that pops up.
Miya Atsumu (10:11AM): sorry I didn't get to see you that much last night
Miya Atsumu (10:11AM): also sorry samu is a dick. I'll make him apologize too
Miya Atsumu (10:12AM): he won't mean it but I'll still make him
Miya Atsumu (10:12AM): but still I miss you. hang out with me soon
You're not stupid. You know Atsumu is in love with you.
He hasn't exactly been subtle about it. You could see it in his eyes the first time you met him - wide and wet and practically sparkling. Atsumu stared at you like you had breathed new life into him. When he asked you for his number, his hands were shaking. You witnessed his heart shatter when you told him that you'd like to be friends, really.
You thought it might fade, his little crush. Thought that maybe the more he saw of you, the more boring and uninteresting you would become, and that shine in his eyes when he looked at you would dull. But Atsumu never grew bored of you. It seemed he always wanted more of you, asking constantly to see you and showing up at that goddamn bar and sending you tickets to his matches. Atsumu's not afraid to beg for what he wants.
Vision still blurry from sleep, you quickly type out, I'll always be at the bar, and hit send. Then, you silence all notifications.
You mostly pretend not to notice. You turn your gaze away when his expression goes too soft and you ignore the brush of his knuckles against yours. You never address touches that last too long or a possessive arm over your shoulder. Atsumu probably thinks you're shy. He also probably thinks you care more than you do.
It's just too easy, letting it happen. Letting him think that there might be something there. Letting him get closer and closer. You like Atsumu, you like his attention and you like the way he looks at you. And if Atsumu doesn't mind giving and giving without getting anything in return, then you don't mind taking.
Your head throbs as you rise out of bed. You're tired and already in a bad mood and you have work in an hour. As you waddle from your bedroom to the shower, you check your phone and see that Atsumu has already texted you twice more. You toss your phone on the kitchen counter as you pass. You can deal with it later.
You still haven't dealt with it when you're three hours into your shift, leaning over the counter and looking out onto a mostly empty coffee shop. You're on your third shift drink. Your coworker Kiyoko cleans the already-clean espresso machine while you do nothing.
"Any plans for the weekend?" Kiyoko asks you while she runs a clean rag over the milk steamer for the sixth time.
You shrug. "I dunno. Probably go to The Lucky Cat and get drunk."
Kiyoko gives you a look - the same bored and unimpressed one she always gives you. "You do that every night."
"At least I'm consistent," you mumble. "What about you? Any big plans?"
She hums. "My boyfriend is coming up for the weekend. Going to stay over and go to the MSBY match."
You almost mention Atsumu, but you hold back. "When are you two going to just move in together?"
Kiyoko pauses. "I don't know. I guess when the time feels right. Maybe when we get married. I don't know."
"Married," you repeat back to her, "that's a big commitment."
Someone on the sidewalk stops and looks through the shop's windows. They frown, and keep walking. "We've talked about it before," Kiyoko says, abandoning the espresso machinen and tossing the rag over her shoulder. "There's still things we want to do, but it's definitely in our plans," she looks at you. "What about you? You ever want to get married?"
You snort. "No," you say, surely and succinctly. You've never imagined yourself as anything other than what you are now - completely on your own and completely independent. When you picture it now, being someone's loyal little wife, it makes you nauseous.
You try to be happy for Kiyoko, but there is a part of you that thinks she's fucking stupid for wanting it.
Kiyoko looks out over the bar, searching for something else she can busy herself with. "Well, to each their own."
You have a feeling that she feels bad for you.
You like your life. You like being on your own and yeah maybe you hate your shitty, boring job, and maybe your apartment could be nicer and cleaner, but you figure it's worth it to be your own person. It's worth it to never feel weighed down or held back and it's worth it to do whatever the fuck you want to do.
Whatever the fuck you want to do being drinking every night at The Lucky Cat.
You know the bartenders by name. Mori rolls eyes his at the sight of you and cracks open a Sapporo before you even sit down at the bar. "Thank you!" you call out to him as he turns his back to you. He flips you off.
You like it here. You like the music that plays and how comfortable the bar seats are and you like that everyone here knows you. You've been coming here since college, when you stumbled in after spending a long, cold night alone. It started out as a few times every month, which spiraled into every week, which quickly became every night. Most nights you just have a beer or two. Some nights you get so drunk Mori has to put you in a cab.
It's dead tonight, which is fine. You don't mind being one of the only people in here. You take a sip of your beer and lean back into your seat. You feel at ease here. Relaxed.
Of course, it doesn't last very long.
You tense up on instinct when Miya Osamu slides into the bar seat next to you. You drop your head behind your shoulders and groan. "Oh my god, what the fuck are you doing here?"
Osamu's mouth curls up in disgust. "What, I can't get a fucking drink?"
You grab your beer, and slide off the bar stool. "Go somehere else and leave me the fuck alone."
You're ready to make a beeline for a dark corner to drink in, but Osamu follows you. "Wait," he says, "I wanted to talk to you."
Osamu keeps following you as you move through the bar, like an annoying little gnat. "I don't want to talk to you."
"Well, that's too fucking bad, because I need to talk to you, so can you just stop?"
You do, turning on your heel to glare at him. "I'll tell Mori to kick you out."
Osamu flinches. "Mori likes me better than you."
"What the fuck do you want, Miya?" you snap at him, hoping that if he gets to his goddamn point, he'll leave you alone sooner.
His stare is hard and unforgiving. His voice is flat and harsh when he speaks. "If you care about Atsumu at all, you'll go to his game this weekend."
You frown. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"The game he's been begging you to go to?" Osamu drawls out slowly, like you're too stupid to understand. You raise your eyebrows at him. "The one he's been texting you about all day?" Nothing. Osamu blinks. "Fuck, you're not even reading his texts, are you?"
"Fuck off, okay?" you grumble, pulling your phone out from your back pocket. "I've been at work all day."
It's hardly an excuse, considering you spent nearly half of your shift mindlessly scrolling on your phone. You never did clear out your silenced notifications, though, and when you look now you see that you have plenty.
Miya Atsumu (10:14AM): you should come to my game this weekend if you can
Miya Atsumu (10:15AM): we're playing against the red falcons which is cool because I played with their outside hitter in high school
Miya Atsumu (10:39AM): it would mean a lot to me if you came
Miya Atsumu (11:53AM): I set aside a ticket for you
Miya Atsumu (1:04PM): just text me if you can't make it
You almost feel bad. You close your phone and toss it between your hands. "Oh."
"Yeah, oh," Osamu repeats. "Look, I don't know why Atsumu bothers with you, but clearly you're important to him, so show up at the fucking game or just stop pretending to be his friend. It's just painful at this point," he says, and his voice is calm and monotone but his harsh words poke at you. It's irritating.
"Can you fuck off?" you snap. "Atsumu is my friend. Just because I'm not on my goddamn phone all day-"
"Cut the bullshit, okay?" Osamu cuts you off. "All you do is treat him like shit. I'm sick of it."
Your face twists up in anger. If Atsumu has any issues with the way you treat him, he would've said something to you instead of just taking it. He's an adult. You tell Osamu as much. "Atsumu can tell me himself if he has a problem. Until then just mind your fucking business."
Osamu stares. "Atsumu is my business."
Everything about Osamu irks you. His dull affectation and his strange, overbearing protectiveness. He treats his brother like some tiny dog he has to look after and treats you like you're a great hindrance to this task. You hate his smug, satisfied smirk and the way he crosses his thick arms over his chest. Miya Osamu is irritating in every possible way he can be.
Without breaking eye contact with Osamu, you raise the bottle of beer to your lips and swallow a mouthful. Osamu scoffs at you. "Y'know," you start when the beer hits your belly, "I think I'm too sober to deal with you. Get out of my face."
You push past Osamu, brushing your shoulder against his arm as you do, and move to return to your bar stool. After you, Osamu calls out, "Just go to his goddamn game!"
You don't look back. Osamu makes no move to follow you. You flip him off for good measure.
As you settle back into your usual seat, Mori gives you a grave look and shakes his head, like some disappointed father. "Oh, fuck off," you quip.
Your phone's almost dead when you pull it out again. You use one hand to kill the rest of your beer and the other to write back to Atsumu, "I'll be there, can't wait."
Fuck, you hate Osamu.
Osamu has a problem, and it's you.
If it's not Atsumu gushing about everything you do - the way you laugh, the joke you told at the bar two weeks ago, how you start to look at him when you get too drunk - it's all about the tiny ways you break his heart. Never texting him back, blowing him off to go to that same fucking bar, flat out ignoring him for straight days.
When Atsumu first introduced you to him, Osamu thought it was a joke. He didn't believe that you were the girl his brother had been waxing poetic about for months. You were nothing like the bright, bubbly girls who loved fun and sex and life that Atsumu usually liked to bring home. You looked moody and mean and you had this sneer on your face that looked permanent. Osamu thought Atsumu was fucking with him, because you looked like the type of girl that he would want.
But Atsumu was dead serious about you.
Atsumu told him one night, watching as you drunkenly fell into a cab, "Fuck man, I think I wanna marry that girl."
Osamu felt something strange pull at his chest when he said that. He didn't like it.
He doesn't like you. He doesn't like your attitude or the way you treat his brother and he certainly doesn't like this special kind of hatred he seems to only feel for you.
And he doesn't think you're right for Atsumu. You're too miserable, too static. Osamu get the distinct impression that you could stay in one place for the rest of your life and be completely satisfied in your own stagnation. Atsumu doesn't need that. He needs growth, movement, change. Atsumu doesn't need you.
Osamu thinks about you more than he would like to. He'll be working in his kitchen and suddenly notice that his grip around his knife is too tight or that his expression is pulled down into a scowl and he'll realize it's because your face is in his mind. He hates thinking about you, but does it often - worrying about what you're going to do to his brother next or dreading the next time he'll have to see you.
Osamu is aware that it's sort of not normal.
He's looking for you now, poking his head out of the Onigiri Miya stall every couple of minute to see if can spot you in the crowd. You're supposed to be here - Atsumu said you would be here - but he wouldn't put it past you to bail. That's exactly the kind of thing you would do. Osamu chews on the inside of his cheek as he watches crowds of red and black jerseys pass. There's this anxious pit in his stomach he would love to get rid of.
It gets worse when he does see you.
He notices you halfway through the first set, when most people are in their seats actually watching the game they paid to see. But here you are, walking right up to his onigiri stand.
Osamu eyes you as you approach. You're wearing loose jeans that are covered in bleach stains and a sweatshirt that has a tear in the neckline and holes in the sleeves. You look like you didn't even try.
A lot of the time, Osamu finds himself wondering if you feel the same way about Atsumu as he does you. He thinks not, most of the time. There are some moments, though, when your gaze lingers on Atsumu a little too long, or you touch his arm as you laugh. But now, you show up to his game looking like you threw on whatever clothes were on top of your dirty laundry pile, and Osamu has a hard time believing that you care what Atsumu thinks of you. Or anyone, for that matter.
You give him this look when your eyes meet Osamu's. For some reason, it makes him nervous. He never knows what you're going to say.
"Miya," you greet, sounding too smug for his liking.
He wears his favorite expression for you - a nasty, straight-on glare. "Yer supposed to be watchin' the game."
You shrug. "Got hungry. Gimme a salmon."
"No," Osamu says, "ya can fuck off."
A smirk grows on your face. Osamu doesn't want to give you the satisfaction of being visibly irritated, but he just can't help himself. You're just so fucking irritating. "What, you're too good for my money, or something? I'm a paying customer here. Gimme a fucking salmon."
Osamu grinds his teeth together as he looks at you, torn between denying you the joy of his food and ending the interaction quicker. "No," he settles on. "Go watch the game and quit fuckin' buggin' me."
"God, you're such a dick, you know that?" you tell him.
Osamu chuckles mirthlessly. "Oh, I'm the dick?"
"Yes," you nod, "you're the dick, Miya."
His skin feels tight. Osamu puts his hands on the edge of his stall and leans in towards you. "If I'm a dick, then I don't even know what ya are. Yer genuinely the worst, most selfish, inconsiderate-"
"Excuse me? Can I order?"
Osamu's face burns bright in humiliation at the realization that you're not alone. Standing behind you is a man who looks like he might just be as embarrassed as Osamu feels.
Osamu swallows a lump in his throat. "Oh, yeah, of course I can take yer order," he says, shaking his head, trying to rid it of thoughts of you.
"Don't eat here," you say to the man as you look directly at Osamu one last time, "this place gave me food poisoning."
Osamu watches as you go, and thinks I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
Maybe you ignore Atsumu so often because you have such a hard time saying no to him. When he actually corners you, and with those big fucking eyes, asks if you'll go out with him and his team to celebrate their win, the word no is on the tip of your tongue. But he takes a hold of your hand and squeezes, and what actually comes out is, "I'd love to."
Now, you're sandwiched between a drunk Atsumu and an even drunker Bokuto and everyone's talking over each other so loudly you can't think. Meian spilled soju on your pants as he passed it over you to get to Thomas. Atsumu has a casual hand on your thigh that he's trying to play off as accidental. Your head hurts.
Osamu's there, because of course he would be, seated directly opposite you, nursing his one beer. And every time your eyes start to drift over towards him, you find Osamu is already looking at you.
It's making you feel almost ill.
Atsumu's thumb starts to move against the fabric of your jeans, back and forth, slowly and smoothly. Maybe you should find it nicer than you do, but it sets you on edge, makes your shoulders tense up. You find Atsumu's touch to be so overwhelming it's almost painful. You stare straight ahead at Osamu, and for some reason, he stares back, expression blank.
"Hey," Atsumu whispers in your ear, and you jump. He's too close, breath hot on your neck. "Ya okay?"
You give him a curt nod, and swallow the spit in your mouth. "Yeah," you say unconvincingly. "Actually, I think I just need a smoke right now."
Atsumu perks up. "Do ya want me to come with ya?"
"Nah," you say, "stay here and keep getting drunk. I'll be back in ten."
He nods, and squeezes your thigh before you stand. You try not to think about it as you walk towards the back alley.
It's misting rain when you get outside. It takes three flicks of your lighter to get your cigarette lit, but once it does, smoke floods your lungs and your shoulders start to relax. Atsumu's getting bolder, and you don't know what to do about it.
Maybe you'd be his girlfriend, if he asked. It's not like you have anything better to do.
You don't have very much time to think about it, though, because the restaurant's back door bursts open, and Osamu is there to ruin your peace.
The door slams shut behind him. He takes two long steps towards you. "What the fuck are ya doin' out here?" he questions immediately.
You blink. "Smoking a cigarette."
Osamu's eyes fall to your hand and the cherried cigarette between your fingers. He takes a deep breath. "Yer not runnin' out on him, then?"
And now you're annoyed, because it's always the same shit with him. "Fucking hell, Miya, are you his fucking chaperone or something? Are you just gonna be around babysitting us for the rest of your life?"
His jaw hardens. "I'm hopin' ya won't be around for that long."
You're not sure why, but that one hurts, cuts right through your chest. You try not to let it show on your face, but it definitely rattles in your voice when you say, "What is even your problem with me? All you ever do is give me shit and that's all you've ever done from the second you met me. What the fuck did I ever even do to you?"
"Ya didn't have to do anything to me," Osamu is quick to reply. "Yer just not good enough for my brother."
"And what the fuck does that have to do with you?" you argue. "If Atsumu wants to be my friend-"
"Stop it," Osamu interrupts.
"Stop what?"
"Stop being dense. Ya know that's not what he wants."
You hold your breath. The air between you and Osamu is thick and you don't want it in your lungs. You don't know what to say - you just bite down on your tongue.
"That's what I don't like about ya," Osamu says, his voice cutting through the silence, taking another step closer to you. "Ya just fuckin' bulldoze yer way through people's lives and ya don't give a shit about the consequences. Yer leadin' him on."
"I'm not," you protest, but it's pointless. You both know that you are.
"Yeah, ya are," Osamu insists. "Ya are and ya don't even give a shit about him."
You can hear your blood rushing past your ears. You take a step in his direction. "You don't know shit, Miya. Stop acting like you know me. You know your brother, but you don't know me, so don't say I don't care."
Osamu leans in closer to you. "I know you," he says, voice lower.
He smells like salt and soap. His eyes burn into yours. "You don't know shit."
He does it, then. Osamu grabs you by the back of your head, and pulls your mouth in to meet his.
It repulses you, at first, makes you sick. But Osamu tastes sweeter than you thought he would. When you raise your hand, you think it's going to be to push him off of you. But your hand finds his hair and roots in it, pulling him as close to you as he can be.
It's almost ugly, the way he kisses you. There's spit between your lips and his teeth knock against yours more than once. But when Osamu kisses you in that dark, wet alley, something starts to brew in you, starts to claw at your chest. You lean into him more, mouth open for him. It occurs to you there, his tongue slipping against yours, that you want him.
Osamu backs you into a brick wall, pressing you against it when his teeth bite at your bottom lip. A little noise makes its way out of the back of your throat. Osamu's hands find the back of your thighs, and he lifts them over his hips, your legs wrapping around his back. You drop your cigarette to run your hands over his chest.
You don't have time to wonder what he's thinking or what the fuck he's doing. You're only concerned with the feeling of his tongue in your mouth and his hands burning against your thighs.
And then the door clicks open.
Osamu drops you so fast it makes you dizzy. You blink, and he's five feet away from you, holding his breath, looking at Atsumu.
You glance between the two of them and try your hardest to keep your expression neutral and your breathing even. Atsumu looks too drunk to notice anyways. He leans against the doorway. "Whaddya two doin'?" Atsumu asks.
You look to Osamu, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't say anything, just stands there with his eyes fixed on the ground. You shake your head. "Nothing," you tell Atsumu without meeting his eyes. "Your brother's just yelling at me again."
Atsumu's saying something, but you don't really hear. You're sure it's something disparaging about Osamu. You look up to see Atsumu is holding his arm out towards you. You walk to him, falling into his side without looking at Osamu again, and you're left with a wetness between your jeans and the taste of him on your tongue.
Osamu hopes he he can solve the problem by ignoring it.
It's not hard to avoid you, considering you're only ever at one place. When Atsumu wants to make his weekly Sunday night trip to the Lucky Cat, Osamu feigns exhaustion and opts to stay home instead. Atsumu goes on his own, and Osamu spends the whole night imagining you pulling him into a corner, and telling him what Osamu did. He doesn't get very much sleep that night.
He doesn't know why he did it. Osamu just remembers looking at you and the hatred in your eyes and feeling like his skin was burning, and touching you was the only remedy. He remembers the taste of strawberry soju. He remembers the way your flesh felt between his fingers. It makes him bite down on his lip and palm the growing ache between his legs.
Osamu's not sure which is worse, what he did or how badly he wants to do it again.
Atsumu notices that something's wrong. He comes into Onigiri Miya one afternoon, hair still wet from his shower after training, and watches Osamu with skeptical eyes. "What's with ya?" Atsumu asks. "Yer all jumpy and weird."
Osamu is stuffing his onigiri, shoulders practically up to his ears. He forces them down. "Dunno what ya mean."
Atsumu stares. "Yeah, sure."
It's brutal, lying to him. It's not something Osamu has a lot of practice in. It makes his skin itch and he can't get rid of this constant nauseousness no matter what he does. Osamu keeps picturing Atsumu's face when he finds out what happened, can't stop imagining that wide-eyed look of betrayal. He's just sort of hoping that all of this guilt will fade away with time, because he certainly can't tell him the truth.
Which is why Osamu can't see you again. He doesn't ever want to feel what he felt before he kisses you. He's afraid of what he'll do.
Whenever Osamu isn't lamenting about how he betrayed Atsumu, he finds himself thinking of you. He wonders what you're doing and what you think of him kissing you.
Osamu settles on the thought that you must think he's a fucking freak. What else could you think? He went from yelling at you about not being good enough for his brother to kissing you without asking. Not just kissing you, devouring you. Grabbing at you and biting at you and trying to get closer and closer.
It's not like you thought highly of him before.
Osamu's closing the restaurant, and thinking about you again. It's been about a week and a half since he's seen you, lips swollen and out of breath, returning to his brother's side. He wouldn't say that he misses you, exactly, but it does feel like something is missing. He feels this ache without you around, and he's not sure how much of it is the guilt.
Everyone else went home, and Osamu is dragging his feet while he closes, mopping twice and deep cleaning his fridges. If he goes home, either he will sit alone with his thoughts, or Atsumu will show up and bug him about what's wrong. Cleaning is better.
He's about elbow deep in his display case when there's a knock at the door. He pauses and listens, thinking he must have misheard. But when he resumes his cleaning, the knocking comes again, louder and more forceful. He groans, ripping off his gloves and preparing his customer service voice to say the obvious sorry, we're closed.
But when Osamu opens the door, it's you on the other side. His heart beats irregularly and his gut lurches. His mouth is suddenly too dry to say anything.
So you talk for him. "What the fuck is your problem?" you ask, pushing past him and making your way into his restaurant.
Osamu closes the door, somewhat dumbfounded. He thought if he just avoided the bar and the coffee shop where you work, he'd never see you again. He never imagined you would seek him out. Not like this.
He looks at you, standing in the middle of his restaurant with your arms crossed over your chest. Osamu notices you look cuter than he's used to seeing you, wearing a skirt that cuts off at the top of your thighs and a pretty color flushed across your cheeks. Osamu can't help but wonder if that's for him.
Osamu doesn't say anything. He feels like he can't; he just looks down at the floor. You don't take this. "Hey, Miya, I'm asking you a question. What the fuck is your problem? Why have you been avoiding me?"
Not why did you kiss me, but, why have you been avoiding me. Osamu looks up at you to find you glaring at him. You look pissed. And then, Osamu feels it again. His skin starts to prick.
He becomes aware, then, of the floor to ceiling windows that encase the restaurant. Anyone on the street could look in and see you two. He steps towards you and grabs you by the wrist, leading you towards the kitchen in the back where no one can see. Osamu is hyper aware of every inch of his skin that has contact with yours.
You follow him without word, and when the kitchen door closes behind you, Osamu releases your wrist and steps away, running his hands through his hair. "Fuck," he says, "why'd ya come here?"
"Because you kissed me and then went out of your way to avoid me," you tell him. "Did you think I was too stupid to notice?"
He was hoping you hated him too much to care. Osamu shakes his head. "I can't see ya again."
You frown. "Why the fuck not?"
"I can't do this to Tsumu," Osamu says. "Ya know he's fuckin' in love with ya."
"Atsumu is not my boyfriend," you assert. "I don't owe him loyalty."
"Yeah, but I do," Osamu snaps. "That's the very least I owe him."
"He doesn't have a claim over me," you argue. "He doesn't own me, or you either."
Osamu's self control is already hanging by a thread, and every time he looks at you, that feeling grows. And here you are what? Arguing that it was okay for him to betray his brother? Making a case for him to do it again? Osamu ignores the urge to step closer to you.
He looks pained. "It's not right."
"Why?" you press. "I'm not going to marry Atsumu. He knows that."
He doesn't, Osamu wants to say. Atsumu looks at you, and sees his wife. Osamu's chest feels like it's going to split in two.
Osamu doesn't move, but you take a step forward. "Why did you kiss me?" you ask him, softer now.
He swallows. "Because I couldn't help myself."
You move closer. "You want me," you say, rubbing salt in his wound. "So why shouldn't you have me?"
Osamu stares as you get closer and closer until your hand is on his chest and he can't breathe. "This just proves my point. Yer not good enough for Atsumu."
You look up at him. "But am I good enough for you?"
Osamu kisses you then, takes a hold of your face and leans down to press his lips against yours, and he thinks yes.
It's gentle at first, lips moving softly and molding against each other. But once Osamu starts with you, he has trouble controlling himself. His tongue slides against yours, and something rumbles in his chest. Osamu grabs you by the waist, and lifts you until you're sitting on the edge of his meticulously cleaned prep table. He can clean it again.
Your chest is flushed against his, and it's not close enough. His hands reach down to the tops of your bare thighs, and he squeezes. Your back arches and you press into him further. It's not enough.
His head is empty now, the only thoughts he has are of you and how you move against him. He slides his hands behind you and pulls you closer until your legs are on either side of him, and your core is pressed against the growing bulge in his pants. You moan. He loses it.
"Fuck," he mumbles against your lips. "Please let me fuck you."
He wants to feel you on his tongue and on his fingers, but he reasons in the moment that there will be time for that later. The need he feels for you is urgent. You pull away to nip at his ear. "Yeah," you tell him, breathy and low. "Fuck me, Miya."
It's all he needs.
His hands are under your skirt in an instant, grabbing at your underwear and pulling them down with such force that the table shakes. Your hands are fumbling with his belt buckle. Not quick enough. He removes your hands and does it himself.
"You're desperate, Miy-oh fuck."
Osamu silences you by pressing into you. Your arms go around his shoulders, and your lips attach to his neck, He needs more.
Being inside of you isn't close enough. Osamu wants to be closer; he needs more of you. He drops his head down to the crook of your neck and bites down, his molars leaving imprints on your skin. His hips stutter into you. It's not enough. His hands grip at the soft flesh of your hips. It's not enough.
When Osamu fucks you on that table, your skirt bunched up at your hips and soft moans in his ear, he can only think of what a piece of shit he is. When you open your mouth and a desperate and warm, "Osamu," falls out, he finishes.
Osamu watches as you pull your underwear up under your skirt. "This can't happen again," he tells you, trying to sound firm, but it comes out as more of a plea.
You scoff. "Yeah, sure."
It does happen again. You expected it to.
You're sitting in your usual bar stool with your second Sapporo in your hand. When Osamu takes the empty seat besides you, you look at him and laugh. He's got a hat pulled down over his eyes and he's keeping his face pointed down to his lap. He looks fucking ridiculous. "You look like you're here to meet your drug dealer."
"Fuck off," Osamu quips half-heatedly. "I had to see ya again."
You don't look at him again. "Thought Mori wouldn't recognize you in your little disguise and we would what? Fuck in the bathroom?"
Osamu's voice is strained when he says, "I just wanted to talk to ya."
You hum. "Yeah, I'm sure you did."
"Look," he says, ripping his hat off his head and turning towards you. "I'm really fuckin' tryin' to y'know, not be a shitty person here."
"But what?" you cut him off, turning to meet his gaze. "You want me too bad to do the right thing?"
Osamu glares. "I hate ya."
"It doesn't feel like you hate me, Miya," you tell him. "It actually feels like you like me so much, you'll sneak out to a bar when you know your brother's at the gym, just so you can see me without him knowing."
"Ya have to tell him," Osamu pleads. "Ya have to tell him ya don't have any feelings for him."
You look away. "Don't tell me what to do."
He has a point, though. It is kind of scummy to lead on Atsumu while fucking his brother. But you try to imagine life after rejecting Atsumu, and you just picture him further away from you. No more resting on his shoulder or waking up to texts from him and no more casual comfort. No more Atsumu at the tip of your fingers. You think that maybe, you would miss your friend too much. You raise your beer to your lips and take a swig. You can be scummy, you figure. You don't really mind it that much.
"Ya can't have us both," Osamu tells you.
"And who the fuck says I want you?" you snap at him. "You kissed me. You begged to fuck me."
It's no use playing pretend with Osamu. He felt the way you kissed him, felt the wetness between your legs. He knows. "I'm not fuckin' stupid," Osamu says, and you know it.
"Whatever," you grumble, and kill your beer. Osamu watches as you slap cash down on the bar. "Tell him yourself, if you feel that bad."
You move to leave, but before you can get very far, Osamu grabs you by the arm and holds you in place. You look him in the eye. "Wait," he says. His fingers move against your bicep. Your face gets hot.
He fucks you in a storage closet, using one hand to hold your leg up over his hip and the other to cover your mouth to muffle any sounds you make. His fingernails dig into your skin. "Fuck," he grunts. "Ya feel like yer made for me."
Osamu's stuffing himself back in his jeans when you ask, "Are you gonna say this is the last time again?"
He shakes his head. "No point."
"You look different" Kiyoko says, leaning against the coffee bar. "Happier, I think."
You're making yourself a drink, filling the cup up to the top with ice and pouring cold brew over it. You drink it black. "You think?"
Kiyoko nods. "Definitely. It's in the eyes."
You've been fucking Osamu for three weeks now. He never texts you, never calls, just shows up at The Lucky Cat before you can get too drunk and takes you back to his apartment. He doesn't make you breakfast or kiss you goodbye when you leave in the morning, but he's different now. Fights with you less. Holds onto you tighter, kisses you more while he's bottomed out. Tells you that you look so pretty split open on his dick. Runs his hands through your hair and tells you what a good job you did.
It's nice, you think. You like what you have with Osamu, like the way he feels inside of you and how big his hands feel against you. It's nice not arguing with him, too. Actually, it's just kind of nice to be around him. You don't talk about much when you're not having sex. You both just sort of move in silence until you fall asleep in his bed and he's waking you up the next morning to tell you he has to go to work. Turns out, if you're not at each other's throats, you don't have very much to talk about.
And you definitely don't talk about Atsumu.
You still see him, mostly on Sundays, when he comes to spend time with you at the bar. Osamu doesn't accompany him anymore, so it's just you and Atsumu, drinking until the early morning.
Ironically, fucking his brother made you like Atsumu more. He's funnier now, better to be around. Or maybe you're just in a better mood. You lean on him while he talks and listen to his stories with eager eyes and when he texts you in the morning, you actually reply.
You only feel a little bad.
"I've been sleeping better," you tell Kiyoko, which is kind of true. You're definitely sleeping less, but the sleep you do get on Osamu's bed, when you're fucked out and exhausted, is blissful.
"Well, you look great," Kiyoko says. "Keep it up."
The bell above the door rings as it opens. You groan quietly, ready to let Kiyoko handle any customer interaction while you make the drinks. But it's Atsumu that walks through that door, already grinning when he does.
You smile at the sight of him. "Hey, Tsumu."
He walks up to the counter with a gym bag thrown over his shoulder. "Miss me?" he questions.
Kiyoko rolls her eyes, and makes herself busy somewhere else. You take her place behind the register, across from Atsumu. "To death. What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at the gym all day."
He shrugs. "Conditioning day, got off early. Thought I'd have a coffee and come see ya."
"Whaddya want?" you ask. "On the house."
Atsumu looks you in the eye and smiles so warmly you think you might die from the heat. "Vanilla latte, extra shot, since yer buyin'."
You wink at him. "Anything for you."
You should feel worse than you do.
Atsumu watches as you make his drink, though his eyes never really leave your face. "Whaddya doin' tonight?"
You shrug. "Dunno. Been trying to see some friends from college lately. Might hang out with them. You?"
"Hinata wants to do a karaoke room tonight. Says it'll be good bonding, but I think he just wants to get drunk and sing Perfume," Atsumu says, and then pauses. "Wanna come?"
You try to draw a dick in his latter with the milk, but it just comes out as random swirls. "Dunno," you tell him. "How about I text you?"
Atsumu smiles, and takes the latte from you. "Yeah, text me."
You don't tell him that you real plans for the night are to hang around The Lucky Cat like you always do, and see if Osamu shows up to hook up or not. You're weighing the pros and cons of each when Atsumu leaves you with a wave and one last longing look.
When your shift ends, you end up at that same goddamn bar.
You're looking down at your phone, reading a text from Atsumu that says, are you sure you don't wanna come out tonight?
You look up and around you. It might not be terrible to spend a night with Atsumu. You don't mind the excuse to get drunk and Hinata is fun enough to convince you, and when you start to think about it more, you don't feel great about blowing him off.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to give him one more night.
Your thumbs hover over your keyboard, about ready to tell him that your plans changed, and yeah, sure why can't you go out? But then the front door of the bar opens, and in walks Osamu.
Osamu, with his tight black work shirt and stupid little hat. From across the bar, you lock eyes with him, and wonder what exactly you were thinking.
You look down and type, sorry catch me next time, before pocketing your phone, ready to dedicate one more long night to Osamu.
Osamu feels differently about you now. Softer, warmer. Maybe he can't have this much sex with someone without feeling like he's in love. Maybe he always sort of felt this way.
You're by his side, walking down the street, taking the familiar path from The Lucky Cat back to his apartment. You're looking ahead, and he's looking at you. Osamu wonders what he should say. He's always wondering what he should say with you.
"You're staring again," you remark. You kick a rock up the street. You don't look at him.
Osamu won't look away from you. "Am I?" he asks, even though he knows he is. "Didn't notice."
You don't say anything back, but Osamu sees the way the corner of your lip twitches.
Maybe it was the third or fourth time you fucked, or the first time, or when he first kissed you, but Osamu has not been able to get you out of his head. Actually, it was probably before that. It was probably the first time he met you that Osamu was cursed with thoughts of you. He just doesn't mind it as much anymore.
He likes fucking you. He likes hold you, too. He likes poking your side in the morning until you wake up and he's the first thing you see.
He likes being near you. He likes you.
Osamu doesn't feel as guilty anymore, either. The better it feels being around you, the less he thinks about Atsumu, the less he imagines his heartbreak. You're a good enough distraction.
As you walk by his side, he thinks about taking your hand. It's right there, hanging by your side, and Osamu looks down at it, wondering nervously what your reaction might be, wondering if you'd let him cross that line.
He wonders when it got this bad, when he got this desperate for you. It didn't happen all at once, or maybe it did, and he was just too enamored with you to notice.
He was supposed to hate you, supposed to despise you for the way you treat his brother. But the more time Osamu spends around you, the more he understands why his brother puts up with it. Osamu can see himself sending lovelorn texts that never get answered, can see himself being just as desperate and pathetic. He already might be.
There's just something in the way you move, something in the sound of your voice. Osamu feels like he's addicted to it.
"Hey," Osamu says, stopping in the middle of the street. You stop and turn to look at him. "I wanna try something."
You raise an eyebrow at him. "Here?"
"Yeah," he nods. "Here. Don't move, okay?"
You laugh, unsure. "Okay."
Osamu takes a step, and closes the distance between you. He reaches down, and grabs one of your hands in his. It's soft and warm and when he traces his thumb over your skin, his heart flutters in his chest.
"Osamu," you say, and it sounds heavy.
"Just wanna see," he mumbles, and leans down to kiss you.
It's different than all the other times. It's slow and soft and Osamu doesn't kiss you like someone's there trying to tear you away from him, but like he'll have you for the rest of his life. One hand rises to your face, fingertips gingerly resting on your cheek. You kiss him back with as much care and softness as he's ever felt from you.
It feels good. It feels right.
Osamu pulls away, but his face hovers over yours, noses almost touching. "Okay," he says quietly, "just had to see. Let's go."
When he leads you back to his apartment, he takes you by the hand, and does not let go.
The sun hasn't completely risen yet. The sky is a dusty sort of blue that hangs all the way down to the street. Osamu yawns as he walks along the sidewalk towards Onigiri Miya. He's too tired to be awake, too tired for prep work. He thinks of you, laying in his bed where he left you, and his body starts to ache. He doesn't want to be here.
He reaches his hand down to his sweatpants pockets to fish out the keys that are weighing down his waistband. They get stuck in his pocket. He wiggles them around. There is a strong force ramming into Osamu's side, and knocking him onto his back.
Osamu's back is against the hard pavement, and there is no more air left in his lungs. He tries to breathe, gasping for air, but there is a hand pushing his face against the sidewalk. It takes him a second to realize that it's Atsumu hovering over him, holding him down, pushing him into the ground.
Osamu tries to lurch forward, but fuck, Atsumu's gotten stronger. He reaches his hands up to grab at Atsumu's collar, trying to pull him away or push him off or something. "What the fuck are ya doin'?" he yells, loud and forceful.
"Ya fuck her?" Atsumu yells back, red in the face and it's now that Osamu notices his wet eyes. Osamu's stomach drops. He doesn't say anything; his hands release Atsumu and fall back. Atsumu looks like he's too full of air. "Did ya fuck her, Samu?"
Osamu uses his legs to kick Atsumu off of him. He stumbles back a few steps, and Osamu lurches to his feet. Pieces of the pavement stick to his cheek. "Who told I did?" he questions, not sounding as innocent as he would like to.
"Doesn't fuckin' matter who told me what," Atsumu says, "all that matters is yer answer. So did ya fuck her?"
Osamu says nothing, and he's sure that's an answer enough in itself.
Atsumu takes one heavy breath, shoulders rise, and he holds it. Osamu watches. His fingers flex and curl nervously by his side. And any guilt Osamu felt when he kissed you for the first time or fucked you in the back of his restaurant doesn't come close to what he feels right now. He looks at his brother and feels like he took the world from him. He can see Atsumu's heart shatter in every shuddering breath he takes and even still, in that moment, Osamu is not sure he would take it all back.
It makes him feel like fucking scum.
"Do ya love her?" Atsumu asks, after a while of nothing. He's quieter now.
Osamu's not sure he knows the answer or the right thing to say so what he does say, with his heart pumping in his ears, is, "No."
Atsumu lunges forward again, hands finding Osamu's shoulders and pushing him backwards. "So ya took her for fuckin' nothing!" Atsumu yells. "Don't even fuckin' like her like I do, and ya fucked her just because, what? Just because ya could?"
Osamu stumbles back, and straightens out only to reach back out and shove Atsumu back. "I didn't take her, Tsumu, she didn't fuckin' belong to ya."
"She was my girl," Atsumu insists, pointing a finger towards his chest. He wipes his eyes with the back of his other hand. "Mine. And ya fuckin' knew it, Samu. Ya know I love her. Ya know it. Why the fuck would ya do this to me?"
Osamu doesn't say anything, because Atsumu is right. Atsumu told him that one day, he was going to marry you, and he turned around and fucked you, over and over again. So often that he started to not even feel bad about it. You're in his bed now, and here Atsumu is, crying over you.
There's a heavy weight on his chest. "Look, Tsumu, I'm sorry, okay? I just, I dunno, I just couldn't stop myself with her. I just- I dunno. I know it's fucked up, alright? I fucked up. I'm sorry."
Atsumu's stare is hard. "How long?"
"About a month."
Atsumu lunges forward, and punches Osamu in the face.
Osamu stumbles back, hand clutching at his cheek and it fucking hurts. "Fuck," he spits out under his breath, and tries to straighten out, but his equilibriums been thrown off. He falls backwards to the ground.
He looks up at Atsumu and wants to say something, wants him to say something. But Atsumu stays silent. Atsumu looks at him, shaking out his knuckles, and doesn't say anything at all.
He just walks away. And that's it.
You're at The Lucky Cat again, smoking out in the back, leaning up against the back wall. You're expecting Osamu to show up, he usually would've by now, but it's Atsumu that appears before you. He plops up against the wall beside you without saying a word. His eyes are rimmed red. You put a hand on his arm. "Hey, Tsumu, you okay?" you ask gently.
"I know," is all he says, looking straight forward at the ground before him. His voice is raw and hoarse.
You know at once what he means. You take away your hand. "Oh," you let out. "So he told you then."
Atsumu scoffs. "Samu didn't tell me fuckin' anything. Omi saw him kiss ya last night. Called me and told me right fuckin' then."
You nod, and flick the end of your cigarette. You're not sure what to make of it, but there's this hard block of dread in your stomach, because you think you know what's coming next. It's hard to imagine Atsumu not hating you after this. You think his days of softness for you are over. The thought of it makes tears prick in your eyes. "So," you say, voice tight.
"So?" Atsumu repeats back.
"You hate me now?" you question, looking up at him with wet eyes. You didn't think it would bother you as much as it does, especially considering that you kind of deserve it.
Atsumu stares back at you, brow furrowed. He shakes his head. "Nah, I don't hate ya," he admits. "I don't hate ya at all."
A tear falls from your eye. You suddenly want him to take your hand. "'M sorry," you say, and you mean it.
"I just don't know," he starts, and his eyes drop from yours to your lips, "why it couldn't've been me."
You don't know why either, you just know that it never was. As much as you leaned on him and indulged in him, it was never Atsumu. You figured you should've told him that from the start.
You're expecting it when it happens. Atsumu leans forward, presses his forehead against yours, and tilts your head up. He leans in, and kisses you.
It's not anything like Osamu. When Atsumu kisses you, it is languid and wet. You do not kiss him back. His lips move slowly against yours, like he's waiting for you to catch up. When he realizes you are not going to, he stops, and pulls away.
"Atsumu," you start, but he stops you.
"No, I know," he says. "I just had to try."
Osamu stops coming to The Lucky Cat. It's only when you stop seeing him that you realize that you don't have his number. You do the only thing you can think to do, and you show up at Onigiri Miya, like you did before. You knock on the locked door for six minutes, but no one answers. It makes you wonder if you were being ignored, or knocking on the door to an empty restaurant.
You try three more times with the same result.
You realize, with an ache in your chest, that you don't know how else to find him. You were just left alone, drifting, nothing to hold onto.
The last time you saw Osamu, he was brushing his teeth. You were lying in his bed, and he had wandered back into the bedroom to grab a shirt. It was too early in the morning for you, and you knew he'd leave for work and you'd be left to see yourself out of his apartment. You didn't say anything to him, because you thought you'd get to later. You didn't even think about it. You wonder now what you'd say to him, if you had known.
Part of you still holds out hope that he'll show up to The Lucky Cat, because he knows you'll be there. You are there, every night, waiting for him, the bar stool next to you always empty.
You just want to talk to him. Tell him that it's not his fault, what happened, at least not really. You want to tell him that you still want him, if he still wants you. That you can make it work. Atsumu won't be mad forever - he'll get over it and you.
You want to yell at him, too. Get mad at him for disappearing on you without saying anything. For kissing you the way he did and then not even giving you the dignity of saying goodbye. You want to ask him if he's punishing you, or himself.
You want to tell him how you feel, too, because you realize you never got to. You want to tell him everything, and make him deal with it, once and for all.
So you sit at the bar and drink your Sapporo's and you wait for him, but he never comes. The door keeps opening, and it's never Osamu.
wow crown prince!suo x the queen's handmaiden!reader where you've never paid much attention to the crown prince (you hear rumors that beneath his honey and tea veneer, there's something strange and sharp and sadistic about the prince) until strange things start to happen to you -- weird accidents around the castle, where he just so happens to be around to save you. a slippery staircase, a rickety suit of armor, a torch that burns just a bit too low and nearly sets the hem of your skirt on fire.
"clumsy little bird, aren't you?" he asks, sweeping you neatly out of the way of a falling beam.
you blink, eyes wide at the rotted bit of wood speared into the ground feet from where you're now pressed against suo's chest.
"i -- thank you, your highness."
"no need," suo smiles, a razor-slit thing; the afternoon light catches in this deep amber eyes, illuminating them from within, "can't have my mother's favorite handmaiden coming to any harm, hm?"
it's only then that you feel the pressure of his fingers along your waist, pressing solid and warm and slightly too tight through the material of your stays. heat blooms in your cheeks as you take half a step back, pulling away.
suo lets you go, dipping into a curt half-bow, his lips still tugged into that too-sharp grin.
you drop hastily into a deep curtsey as suo makes to brush by you, the sharp click of his over-polished shoes echoing along the cold stone walls of the long corridor.
"don't get into any trouble without me, little bird."
his voice is cheery, almost too sweet, and it sends a frisson of cold shivers racing up your spine. you peer over your shoulder at his retreating form, the early afternoon light setting his white uniform aglow. but in the spaces between the grate slats of sunlight bleeding through the massive windows, the shape of him blurs into the darkness.
a heavy something coalesces in the pit of your stomach as you pick yourself up, cast the rotted beam one last look before hurrying down the corridor in the opposite direction. you frown, black-widow fingers creeping up over your shoulders, tickling the back of your neck. you shake off the strange feeling, cold and startling, taste the bitterness of fear on the back of your tongue.
but no, you think, taking a long, shaking breath, it's nothing. the rumors have only ever been just rumors. and you're all too old to be afraid of the dark.
contains: birdhybrid!jjkmen x reader, porn with little plot, your girl did research for ts I have infinitely more knowledge on birds now than I used to, chasing in the forest 😍, doggy style, outdoor sex, mating press, mirrors, air sex??, missionary, lots of hickeys, creampie, sweet tooth 👀, underwater, fingering, riding, nipple sucking, brat taming, and all the other good stuff!
All because I dreamed of Satoru as a peacock... look what I've created 💔💔 I couldn't just choose normal hybrids like puppies or cats or bulls nooo I had to make them BIRDS
TOJI FUSHIGURO
Age: 30
Species: Coragyps atratus
Information: Is currently on a rampage. Approach with caution.
Mating: Vulture hybrids are monogamous. The birds generally do not need nests and usually breed outdoors. Courtship begins when the male chases the female either aerially or on the ground, and they can only breed once they have caught their preferred mate.
Your legs burned.
You'd long abandoned your lab coat somewhere in the forest, knowing that it was a bad decision, since it would just lead him closer to you, but what could you do? Your shirt had been torn up and discarded too, and your pants were covered in mud from when you'd crawled on the ground. Running for four hours through the thickest fucking forest you'd ever been in wasn't an easy task.
It was for him, though.
vulture!toji was having the time of his fucking life.
It had been your mistake, really, for rejecting him in the first place. He'd been nice to you, threatening your (now ex)boyfriend only two times in total. It was only today, when you lost it and shouted at him, telling him that he was supposed to mate with a hen, not a human, that he had finally snapped. Your job was to help him find a potential mate, not be his mate.
Bless the heart of the poor scientist who let him into the forest for "hunting." He was probably going to get fired now, by the looks of how he had been hunting you for the past four hours.
vulture!toji who scoffed when a few of the scientists had tried to lean down from the huge netted wires of the enclosure, telling him to just get back in the facility, that it was useless, that you used to be a track runner.
Bullshit.
He'd never been so happy that the enclosure he'd been taken into was filthy rich, because no normal company could afford such a huge forest all for the hybrids. And all for the hybrids, it ought to be used, so he didn't see any problem in conducting his very valid mating rituals here.
Especially when he caught you.
"That's not fucking fair!" You shouted in the air as Toji flew towards you. He'd decided to fly up above the trees and had found you much easier and faster than you could hide yourself. The bastard was cheating; it wasn't like you could fly away from him.
You felt dread as he landed on the ground near you, stretching out his shoulders. "Nothing in life is fair, ma."
That was the last time you felt your legs for the next week.
vulture!toji was blowing out your back like it personally owed him money, though you weren't complaining. You had long gotten past the point of whining for him to stop, head hanging low as he grabbed your hips and just kept on pushing inside of you. The fucker had bent you over in a stream, cold water lapping at your shins and palms from where you were precariously balanced. Every time the current threatened to waver, the hunk of a man would pull you even closer and hold you steady.
"Why the fuck are you still so tight?" He grumbled into your ear, bare chest pressing against your back, skin sweaty and sticky from the past rounds.
"I don't fucking know, maybe because you give me no recovery time at all," you bit back, arching further when he pressed against your lower back violently.
"Recovery time is for the weak," he retorted, groaning when you squeezed around him once more, reaching your umpteenth orgasm of the evening. Hell, even the sun was setting, painting the sky a deep orange.
"Mgh-" Your eyes rolled back as he changed the angle, driving his hips to hit the spongy part inside of you till it bruised. His balls smacked against your clit with every thrust, and you felt another orgasm build up again. Toji reached over to rub tight circles on your clit, the sound of skin slapping turning faster and faster. "Yes, right there, please-"
Driving his hips to the hilt, he bit at your shoulder as he came, grinding in small circles. You couldn't prevent creaming around his cock even if you tried, leaving a frothy ring around the girth. He pulled out slowly, leaving space for the white to drip out onto the water below.
You all but collapsed, welcoming the cool water of the stream on your heated skin. Looking over your shoulder in dismay, you saw his length start to harden once more.
vulture!toji smiled, the cut on his lip, curving evilly. "How far can you run?"
RYOMEN SUKUNA
Age: unknown
Species: no current scientific name
Information: Very aggressive, will only talk to Scientist [redacted]. Do not try to feed.
Mating: No information has been collected on the mating of phoenix hybrids. No current mates. Only one of its species.
phoenix!ryomen who was the meanest of the meanest hyrbids before you had arrived as his caretaker. He would snap at all the other scientists, and he'd completely given up on finding a mate. You'd given up after ten failed attempts as well, watching all the other birds run away the moment they even saw the fiery wings on his back.
You could see him get more and more agitated each time another day passed without any relief. It must have been torture to him, too- there were only so many times the poor man could jerk it.
There was a reason phoenix!ryomen only allowed you to enter his enclosure, and that reason was on display right about... now.
"You lasted six minutes," you glared at him from where your head was mashed into the pillows, lifting your legs to wrap around his lower back and pull him closer. How you managed to do that lying on your front, Sukuna would never understand.
You'd been sent to help coax hybrids to mate with Sukuna. At least, that's what your fellow scientists thought you were doing in his enclosure so late at night.
"Give me a fucking second, woman," he panted, flipping you over so you were on your back instead of your front. You were greeted with the pretty sight of his tattoos and spread wings, fire that warmed the room till the two of you were sweating. You had the disadvantage of not being able to peg him, because you would unfortunately get burnt 😔 Oh well, some things stay in the imagination. You were just a girl, after all.
Bad decision, really. Now that you were on your back, you had enough hand space to reach over and slap him. He groaned at the sting, hardening inside of you once more. "If you don't last for at least ten minutes, I'm not visiting you tomorrow."
His eyes flashed with anger, wings fluttering, and a few sparks landing on your skin. The twinge of a burn was familiar, welcome. "You've been milking me dry for four fucking hours, and you want me to go another round? Are you even hearing yourself?"
"Yes, I am," you nodded wisely, rolling your hips upwards to meet him halfway. The fire-resistant cloth of his bed burned warm underneath your skin, more sweat lining your hairline. "I think it's a very fair statement."
He groaned, watching you lift your ankles to lock around his lower back, dangerously close to his wings. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him face to yours. "Listen, Ryomen," you said sternly. "There's no other hybrid willing to help you through mating season, because they're all afraid of you. The scientists are all aghast at how you've managed to last this long. Do you really want me to stop visiting you? What are you gonna do then, huh?"
God, you were mean. Sukuna growled at your words, shutting you up by capturing your lips in a violent kiss, begrudingly starting to move once more, though it was more teeth than tongue. You moaned as he hiked up his legs to pummel into you at a new angle, returning his kiss with the same anger. "You're such a bitch."
"You like it." With the way his cock had turned rock hard once more, pressing against your walls and causing you to whine, you knew your words were true. You scratched at his shoulders, burning the tips of your fingers every time you came too close to the junction of his wings with his back.
phoenix!ryomen hissed at the feeling of your nails, but he wasn't complaining. Whenever you weren't in his enclosure, he would admire the wounds like they were trophies. He came embarrassingly quick, but you couldn't reprimand him too early, since you came at the same time. He was pretty sure he just shot a fucking blank, too. You, however, seemed to be always ready to create the filthiest rings of white that dripped down to his clenching balls.
"...That wasn't ten minutes." You muttered out stubbornly, throwing a hand over your eyes. Sensitivity, unfortunately, went both ways.
"Shut the fuck up."
It was true- no other hybrid wanted to mate with a fire hazard. But why would phoenix!ryomen care when he had you?
SATORU GOJO
Age: 22
Species: Pavo cristatus
Information: The peacock hybrid refuses to display its fan for any female provided to it. Scientist reports that it acts "arrogant" and "extremely cocky." Really likes mirrors?
Mating: During mating, peacock hybrids will fan out their display feathers as wide as they can. They will fan these feathers roughly 25 times per second to create an optical illusion and attract a mate. They are extremely self-conscious and take care of their feathers to appear as the most attractive to a mate.
peacock!satoru who was a real piece of work.
peacock!satoru who truly did not believe that there was a female worthy to be his mate. Every peahen they sent into his nest ended with her leaving sad or angry, a few even trying to slap him. How rude- who would try to ruin such a pretty face?
He tried to make them understand that just because a peacock doesn't mate for life didn't mean that they could keep pushing him onto different peahens each mating season like he was a machine. Sure, he didn't have to stay faithful, but that didn't mean that his entire existence was his cock.
He rolled his eyes haughtily when his caretakers took him to his mating room, telling them that this time they had a specialist to help fix him. As if he needed any fixing! It wasn't just any lady who could have a part of him.
"Oh, who is it this time?" He muttered sarcastically. "Doctor Utahime already left last week. Or maybe it's just a peahen in a doctor's disguise. Do you think you can fool me?-"
peacock!satoru who immediately shut the fuck up the moment he laid his eyes on you, heard the lock click as the staff left the soundproofed room. You stood in front of him with a clipboard, presumably a list of all the peahen hybrids that he should have mated by now, and a stern look on your face. The hundreds of mirrors that were stuck on the walls of his room reflected your pretty hair, your lab coat, and your skin in multiple angles that still weren't enough.
You, who apparently had quit two months ago, leaving Satoru to fall into great despair that his human had left. Surely you had been born the wrong species, but fear not, because he was not an orthodox bird. He would have been glad to accept you into his nest if you hadn't avoided him on every turn.
"Still no mate?" You asked, scribbling something down on the paper with your pen. Probably striking or ticking names, arranging the most convenient to the most hostile peahens. You looked like you wanted to be anywhere but here, and the tiredness in your eyes told him you weren't going to take shit from anybody, especially him. You were far too familiar with his antics.
Unfortunately for you, Satoru was a peacock, and bullshit was his speciality. Especially when there was a potential mate just a few steps in front of him.
peacock!satoru who couldn't stop himself, his tail starting to twitch. Before you could even process what was happening, his large feathers had already spread wide, blue and green and oh so pretty.
"What on earth are you doing?" You groaned, running a hand down your face in dismay as Satoru craned to his full height, his tail feathers starting to rustle. If you weren't so pissed at him, you would have been mesmerized by the pretty patterns starting to form.
"What does it look like?" He walked closer to you before you could change your mind. "All you scientists keep asking me to mate, so I'm going to do it. Aren't you happy?"
"I've been gone for two months!" You spoke aghast, watching him start to strip off his shirt already. "Surely you've gotten over your childish crush?"
"It's not a childish crush!" He scoffed, his fan starting to quiver in anxiety. At the end of the day, he was just a peacock, and his ego was as fragile as glass. "Don't you think I'm amazing?"
"No, not exactly," you tried to be cruel, tried to push his tail down. Even if it hurt his feelings, you couldn't risk the lab's prime male falling for a human. He was the only male who had proper statistics, healthy enough to help a new line of descendants. "You could... be prettier."
"Could..." His eyes narrowed as he froze in his tracks. "...Could be prettier?"
So this was how you found yourself in the meanest mating press of your entire life.
You were so glad that this room was soundproof, because you were letting out the loudest sounds as Satoru's hips smacked against yours. You had been pushed onto his pillows before you could try to reassure him that he was, in fact, the prettiest bird you had ever seen, and now you were in a huge mess. A huge mess, you didn't know whether you wanted to get out of or stay in happily. You were currently leaning towards the latter.
Your knees were pressed against your shoulders tightly, and Satoru was stretching you out on his cock so deliciously that you had started to see stars. His tongue had captured yours in a filthy kiss, tangling as he pummeled into you. His tip had managed to find your sweet spot scarily fast, and he'd continued to hammer into it, feeding off your reaction.
Your cheeks burned red as your eyes scanned the mirrors on the roof of his room, showing you the clear image of your fucked out face. Damn this fucking peacock, there were mirrors everywhere. You had no choice but to take in the embarrassment if you wanted to continue being fucked dumb.
His train was still spread, somehow wider than before, fluttering with each burst of pleasure he felt. A few feathers floated down with the force at which he was fucking you, landing on your skin and tickling you.
"Could be prettier," he spat out pettily, pulling away from your mouth and leaving a thin string of spit between you. "I'm the prettiest fucking peacock here."
You couldn't believe you were getting bred because you insulted a guy's looks.
If you weren't getting your brains fucked out, you would have probably rolled your eyes and given him a groan. What a huge fucking ego. However, all you could currently manage was a whimper, biting your lips harshly as the string of spittle snapped. "Oh my god-"
His feathers fluttered once more as you tightened around him, moaning loudly and moving to suckle on your neck. His forearms pressed incessantly on your calves in a way that you knew your legs were going to be sore tomorrow.
"Tell me," he mumbled against your neck, sucking to form dark purple blemishes before lathering them in spit to soothe them, repeating the process over and over. "Say it."
"Fuck, fuck, please don't stop-" You reached a hand up to tangle in his pale locks, arching as you came with a blinded vision, squeezing around his cock. He clearly felt the difference in the way he struggled to keep up his pace, your pussy tightening like a vice. "You're the prettiest, Toru."
His hips stuttered, eyes shutting as he buried his face between your tits, driving himself to the hilt before shooting ropes deep inside you. His fan seemed to cover the two of you like a shield, quivering in time with the pulses of his cock. You could feel the warmth of his seed settle heavily, his breath coming in short pants.
peacock!satoru looked up at you from your chest, the tips of his feathers still caressing the crown of your head. He bit lazily at the side of your breast.
"Can I stop meeting peahens now?"
CHOSO KAMO
Age: 22
Species: Corvus moneduloides
Information: Though part of the smartest crow species, the subject still acts dumber than needed in front of their caretaker. Assumed sign of submission.
Mating: While crows do not have any significantly different tactics for mating, their hybrid counterparts are more likely to bring shiny objects for courtship or to show affection.
crow!choso was widely gossiped about as a dumb crow.
"No."
"Pleeeeeeeeeeaseee," the teary-eyed boy looked up at you from the ground, hugging the plush of your thighs and resting his head right between them.
Okay, how did we get here?
Maybe you should start with the massive pile of pretty, shiny silver that was just lying in the corner of crow!choso's enclosure. Maybe you should start with the fact that you have been trapped in said enclosure for almost two weeks, sitting in his large, twig nest with the soundtrack of a bird begging you to accept his courtship. Maybe you should also start by saying that you are not a crow hybrid, yet Choso doesn't give a flying fuck.
"No, I will not be your mate!" You tried to reason with him, attempting to pull his hands off your thighs to no avail. You didn't know his knees could bear to drop to the twigs day in and day out, simply to beg you over and over for a question he knew the answer to. But the fifteenth time's surely the charm!
"Why not?" He sniffled, and for a second he looked more like a puppy than a crow, black hair frazzled and lips pouting. "Are my gifts not good enough for you?"
Well, that definitely could be the issue, given that one side of his gifts were metal soda cans and broken needles, but the other side was heaps of silver. If you tried to trade all the silver he'd given you for cash, you probably wouldn't have to ever work again. Where did he even find that much? Silver watches, necklaces, rings. Hell, he'd even managed to find a silver pair of fucking glasses. "No, that's not it, but-"
"Then why not?" If it wasn't directed to you, you would have found his true frustration hilarious. "Is it because I'm not pretty enough? I preened my wings every day!"
"No, of course not," your hand instinctively moved to pet his hair to calm him down, trying to prevent his tears. He cooed at the touch, leaning into the scratches. "I'm a human, Choso!"
"So what?" He mumbled grumpily, tugging you down till you were sat next to him and burying his face into your neck. You sighed at his behaviour, but you couldn't help but feel affection for him.
Contrary to popular belief, the crow hybrid that everybody mainly called creepy in the staff meetings was just a lonely guy. Most of the crow hybrids had chosen to move to a more vibrant enclosure, leaving him in the dark wood forest with no friends or mate. Being his caretaker, you were probably the only person who'd properly talked to him in months. He was sweet, and maybe a little bit empty-headed, but he sure as hell cared about you more than he cared about anything else.
It made you feel a bit special, finally being cared for by someone who wasn't just running for the shit ton of money you made in this facility. He actually liked you, and though his idea of gifts was… a bit different, they were still gifts all the same. Your tsundere act had also given up a week into being held in his nest, because you couldn't bring yourself to ignore him.
Also contrary to popular belief, crow!choso was not just a dumb fucking bird.
Would a stupid man be able to cage you into an enclosure even when he was gone for hours on end? No, you thought it was just a coincidence that the paths suddenly became too dark, the trees looked like you were going in circles, the nest seemed so much warmer than the rest of this cold forest. How he even managed to get out of the facility, nobody could understand, because there was no explanation of how he managed to get so many things to you that were so shiny. A stupid man would not make himself look like a submissive bitch in heat to slowly earn your love until you could feel nothing else for him.
What a smart crow would do was lean into your touch as you rode him, whimpering as his hands roamed your body. He bit onto your shoulder as your pussy gushed around his length, squeezing him for all he was worth.
"Oh my god," he whined loudly, hips thrusting up weakly to meet your grinds halfway, cockhead leaking profusely against your insides. You moaned as he rolled his pelvis against yours to rub against your clit, adding an extra level of stimulation.
You tugged on his buns, removing the two elastics that kept them tied up. He leaned his head down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking harshly and kneading the other with the hand that wasn't gripping your ass. You arched against him, pushing your tits up into his face further and changing the angle at which you were riding him.
Your hips were starting to tire out, and he helped you subtly, single-handedly moving you up and down. Your body went pliant for him, hands stroking his cheeks as your pleasure coiled in a tight spring before bursting. "Y-You're going too deep, Cho," you moaned out, his thrusts getting sloppier and more sporadic. The squelching was as sultry as it could possibly get, a thick ring of white froth appearing every time he pulled out just enough before slamming back inside.
"I'm gonna cum inside," Choso mumbled against your nipple, spittle dropping from the skin down to where the two of you were joined. It was more of a warning than a request, fucking every webbed wad of cum into your womb like he would be personally affronted if you didn't get pregnant. The splattering of his seed pushed your afterglow onto another level, spasming around his cock while your clit throbbed contentedly.
crow!choso who knew he could have easily flipped you over into a mating press at any given moment of time, but he loved the way you struggled to stay on top once you tired, loved the way you doted on him with kisses and praise. He would gladly whimper as much as you wanted him to if it meant you would stay in this nest with him forever.
crow!choso was not a dumb bird.
He was just optionally submissive.
TAKUMA INO
Age: 21
Species: Apus apus
Information: Likes to fly around in the forest space often, trusted enough not to keep an eye on.
Mating: The female swift will position her wings in a V to signal she is open to mating, and the bond will last for a few seconds to minutes. Swift hybrids choose to mate differently than most, as they are the only birds to mate in flight.
swift!takuma was the most hyper bird hybrid to exist. When you'd been assigned his caretaker, you'd been a bit confused, wondering why the handsome bird hadn't already gotten a mate, but you quickly understood why.
The man wouldn't sit down for a single second before starting to get bored. You could barely finish telling him about the new swift hybrid he was going to see before he flew off, telling you he'd just had a genius plan, coming back only when the female had gotten bored and had decided to leave.
swift!takuma who didn't know any other way to make you understand that he really, really didn't want to mate with anybody else.
swift!takuma who was pretty sure he couldn't be more obvious than he already was. He avoided female hybrids like the black plague, and only stuck by your side to the point you couldn't go on your coffee break without bringing it out to his enclosure.
Poor Ino was dumbfounded when you laughed off his confession, watching you sip your stupid coffee like he was just a child performing at a family event. Like you didn't know the filthy things he wanted to do to you, the ways he would make sure that you never thought of another man again.
swift!takuma who had no choice but to simply take you up to the sky and show you.
Your scream tore through the sky as his wings pushed up, up, up until you were almost at the very top of the enclosure, close enough that you could see the outlines of the metal bars clearly. "PUT ME DOWN!"
"What if I don't want to?" He stuck his tongue out at you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Your back pressed against his chest incessantly, as if you were scared that if you leaned forward a bit too much, you would fall to your demise, which was literally true. "Now do you want to be my mate?"
"No!" You retorted angrily, though it was more in fear. You should have probably thought wiser than to make the person who was carrying you hundreds of feet up into the air upset.
Just to piss you off, Takuma started to do aerial tricks, spinning around in the air with you in his arms. Summer saults, flips, you name it, you were pretty sure that you were going to be sick.
"I'm going to dive," he spoke cheekily over the wind blowing against your ears deafeningly. You didn't even have time to shout in dismay before he pulled his wings to his body and dropped.
No scream escaped your lungs; all the air was sucked out of them. We're going to crash, you thought to yourself as you approached the trees, the sheer speed at which they were approaching terrifying. I'm going to die, I'm going to die I-
Takuma spread his wings just a second too late, scratching against the upper branches of the trees, but still giving you an astounding rollercoaster ride. Your clothes ripped as the branches caught onto them, one of your sandals flying away sadly.
"Don't complain, I usually make this smoother," he shrugged, feeling part of his own shirt tear as well. As he lifted you back into the sky, the two of you looked like you were partaking in some horrible 1970's porno, with the suggestively ripped clothes and wind-blown hair.
Well, this was also Takuma's main goal, at the end of the day.
"Have you ever experienced an air quickie?"
"What?"
The answer was no, you had not experienced an air quickie. But that was okay, because he was going to strike one more thing off your bucket list!
"You're going to have to- haah- find my clothes, y'know," you clung onto him for dear life, arms gripping his shoulders almost as tight as your pussy gripped his cock. Though your shirt was still on, the bastard had gotten rid of your torn pants in no time. His wings were spread open in all their ombre delight, causing the two of you to glide. You knew that he expected this to accommodate the usual speed he went at so that you could feel safer, but you weren't sure if he understood that nothing could ever find anything he did was slow.
That included his fucking style as well, clearly. With the way he was thrusting into you like a goddamn jackhammer, it was only his insane strength that was keeping you from falling to your literal death. You weren't sure if you were slobbering because most of the tears in your eyes were getting blown away by the wind.
"I do want to say I'll just buy you new clothes," he whimpered against your neck as his balls clenched, thrusts turning sloppier and sloppier. "But we both know I can't afford that."
Trust him to try and make you laugh mid fuck. It worked, though, drawing a small giggle out of you before it morphed into a gasp at the feeling of his thumb reaching between the two of you to rub your clit. "You're going to fuh- I-"
"Ngh, you're so tight," He moaned, the glide of his wings leading you to a very slow descent, still high in the air. There wasn't a 100% chance you were going to be seen, but that just made it all the more fun. "I'm going to mm drop you? Do you really think so little of me?"
You bit at his neck as a complaint to his sass, wrapping your legs around him even tighter to absorb some more of his body heat. Nobody told you an air quickie was going to be so freezing. It seemed, however, that your bite just spurred him on, the smacks of his hips getting faster, if it was even possible.
"I'm gonna cum," he whined against your neck, sucking till it bruised. If you knew all it took was hopping on his dick to wipe away all his bad manners, you would have done it a long time ago. "Please please let me cum inside you, please, you'll make such a good mate please-"
He was just rambling on now, and you could feel the way his cock strained against your insides that he really was trying to control himself this time. "I've been such a good boy please, please please please please-"
Lucky for him, you were also close to your high, and the post-nut clarity would hit later. That was for the future you to consider. Also, you weren't sure how he was going to pull out mid-fucking-air. Your nod was all he needed before he shoved himself as deep as he could go, spurting hot streams of gooey seed against your walls. The white dripped down the crevices of your hole, mixing with the white froth of your already passed orgasm. You shuddered, not knowing whether it was from the cold or from quite possibly the best creampie you'd ever had in your entire life.
"Please let me down now," you whimpered, post-nut clarity hitting like a fucking truck.
"With what pants, baby?"
KENTO NANAMI
Age: 27
Scientific Name: Strigidae
Information: Has been on best behaviour for the kitchen section in the enclosure, likes to cook when not in his burrow.
Mating: Owl hybrids see food as an important part of courtship. While wild owls bring dead prey, domesticated owls may use neater methods.
"Oh, Kento made it for me! The one I'm currently in charge of, he's just the sweetest, don't you think?"
Your coworker proceeded to spit out her drink, choking. You patted her back violently, slightly worried. "You good?"
"The owl hybrid made it for you?"
You nodded, confused. As far as you knew, there wasn't any animosity toward him among the scientists. "Yeah, what of it?"
"…"
"…"
"…Oh, honey."
You were then educated on the reason why owl hybrids gave food to humans in the first place.
You returned to Kento's enclosure later than you usually did that night, cheeks burning with not only embarrassment but strange flattery. He always had dinner ready for you in the past month you'd been taking care of him, and you thought little of it than his appreciation. Now, however, you didn't know how to react to the simple meal on the table.
"Oh, you're back," he smiled at you, sitting down on his rickety wooden chair, pushing up his glasses. The feathers around his neck seemed softer, as if he'd had more time today to groom them. "How was your day?"
owl!kento loved cooking for you.
Ever since the day you'd accidentally eaten one of his cupcakes, his feathers had ruffled, and his eyes had dilated, looking at you like he was a frozen statue. You'd noticed his behaviour and quickly apologized for taking one by accident, but he had returned to his normal demeanor in no time, smiling at you and asking if you'd liked it. You'd nodded, and he'd spend the entire night baking a fresh batch for you.
After all, in his mind, you were already his mate. After the countless meals you'd eaten, you couldn't possibly be anybody else's. owl!kento thought you remained his caretaker as a courtesy, that you simply searched for other mates for him because you didn't know that owls were strictly monogamous.
"It was nice," you answered absent-mindedly, playing with the spoon in your bowl. He caught on immediately.
"Is everything okay?"
"Am I your mate?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself, watching his expression turn puzzled. He looked at you as if you'd asked a dumb question, but with enough patience to make you feel guiltier.
"Of course you are, what kind of question is that?" He blew on a spoonful of soup, and you traced his Adam's apple as he swallowed it.
"Well, the thing is," you were already cringing at the thought of confronting him on something so serious. "I didn't know that accepting your food would make us mates."
"Oh," he frowned. "Do you… not want to be my mate?"
"No! I mean, yes, but no-" You stumbled over your words, watching him approach you from around the table. Sure, he was probably the most attractive man you'd ever met, but he was also the hybrid you were supposed to take care of! Not only was it incredibly unprofessional, but it was also very ethically wrong when you thought about-
"Kenn!"
The cool part of the counter under your back was starting to become warmer. Nanami's hand was firm against your abdomen, keeping you pressed down upon the kitchen top at his whim.
"Hmm… how about this?" While his hips kept their maddening pace, he reached over your body to one of his kitchen shelves, pulling down another pastry. His fingers traced your mouth, pulling at your lip. "Say ahh"
"Aahh," was all you could manage before a bite-sized piece of cinnamon roll was shoved between your lips. You chewed on it the best you could with a fucking 7-inch dick grinding into you, choking on the dust a little.
"So?" owl!kento cocked his head, glasses slipping off his nose slightly. "What do you think?"
"A-As much as your, fuck!" He hit a spongy part inside of you, causing your toes to curl and your legs to tighten around his hips. "As much as your pastries are delicious, I can't be your ma-mmm." He shut you up by pushing another piece of pastry onto your tongue, leaning forward slightly so his cock could hit deeper spots.
Your eyes rolled back at the change of angle, hands gripping his shoulders as he moved to lick your bottom lip, lapping up the remnants of the chocolate cake he'd just made you swallow. Unfortunately, it was quite marriage-worthy material already without the 10 out of 10 dick.
"Mm, that's really good," you moaned out, though unsure whether it was for the luxurious cake which melted in your mouth, or the way your impending orgasm was closing in on washing over you.
You let out a shamefully long whine before your vision went white, cumming unexpectedly with an arch of your back. Your jaw went slack, hazy eyes watching Nanami say something you couldn't quite process. All you did was nod mindlessly, waves of pleasure crawling up your body and making you heady.
"Mm, finally agreed, did you?" He smiled down at you like he knew exactly how much he was rearranging your insides. His head tipped back as his hips stuttered, the coarse hair of his happy trail rubbing against your clit deliciously to prolong your pleasure. You didn't know what you agreed to, really, but if it meant that it kept his hips moving at such a pace, you didn't mind. Especially when he was pulsing inside of you, strings of gooey cum kissing your cervix.
He pulled out of you slowly, watching the white liquid leak out wantonly on the counter. He dipped a finger into it, bringing it up to his lips and sucking generously, before giving you a bit too. Your tongue hung out eagerly, waiting for a taste.
"Maybe I should make icing with this next time."
SUGURU GETO
Age: 24
Species: Cygnus olor
Information: Usually stays in the pond enclosure, and is very soft spoken. Scientists are puzzled as to why there is no mate present yet.
Mating: Swan hybrids mate elegantly and slowly, mirroring each other's movements. Mute swans especially have the capability to purr in contentment.
REDDIT
AITA (21F) for falling for the cunning schemes and wooing of a swan hybrid (24M)?
Comments
- LMAOOOOOO WHO TF IS THIS
-----unfortunately I can't tell you or I might lose my job
- I mean, is he hot?
-----fuck yeah
- There's only ONE hybrid facility big enough to have a dumb scientist falling in love with a specimen, I'm going to report you!
-----oh, fucking cry about it
Here was the problem: Suguru Geto was hot in a way that wasn't describable enough with just a "fuck yeah". No, he was beautiful in a way only swan hybrids could be, dark wings on his back and long, long hair that floated around his face whenever he came up above the surface of the water. Came up to give you that stupid sly grin, one that always made you wonder whether he really needed another hybrid as his mate.
He would tease you, smiling when you came too close by the pond, dipping your ankles in the water, and leaning against the sand. You would close your eyes, feeling at peace for a few moments before feeling a sneaky hand try to tug you down, jumping up in panic and glaring at the swan.
And before you'd been asked to help find him mates, you were just his normal caretaker. Feeding him, writing down stats, just spending time with him, since your facility had no other swan hybrids, and they never liked to be alone.
However, the moment you'd told him that he'd need to find a mate soon, something in him changed.
swan!suguru had lasted two years through mating season without another female. He was far better at controlling himself compared to those other beasts in the facility. A few handjobs while staring at you from the furthest side of the pond was enough to keep him satisfied throughout the period, including the incessant teasing. Who could blame him? He loved to see your poor flustered expression, the way you would march away indignantly just to come back an hour later with his dinner.
But now, you were gone more hours than you usually were, likely in another enclosure debating with hybrids to come mate with him. Actually, it wasn't much of a debate- most of them were already eager to meet him. It was he who would scare them away whenever you weren't present, telling them oddly unnerving things till they got uncomfortable enough to leave.
You noticed the change, of course, you did. His flirtation meter had gone up by more than a few nocks, refusing to eat until you hand-fed him his fish and staring at you from the bay. You knew something was up when he pulled himself up to the sand for the first time, lower body still in the pond. He fluttered his black wings, droplets flinging over your face until you told him to stop. He just shrugged with his usual smile, lying on his front to watch you.
You weren't stupid. You knew Suguru didn't want a mate, and you knew just how many times he got himself off to you, the telltale sign of his shoulders tightening right before he came into his hand. But unlike him, you had courtesy for the rules and stayed a good distance away from him whenever he got too… needy? That, however, was quickly changing with the way he was treating you like you were already his wife.
swan!suguru, too, was not stupid.
It was entertaining, to say the least, to see the way you would stare longingly at him when you thought he wasn't watching, staring at his hair or bare shoulders. That only fueled his ego further, knowing that you wanted him just as much as he did.
This time, when he pulled your ankle to drag you into the pond, he succeeded.
"Mph!" Your mouth was muffled by his hand, swan!suguru started undressing you with care that a kidnapper shouldn't have. He gave you a pointed look before removing his hand, moving to your shirt.
"Be quiet, pretty." Suguru wouldn't have removed your shirt if you didn't let him, and you knew it. His fingers traced the bottom of your shirt for a good ten seconds, observing your reaction. Only when you gave him a slight nod did he lift your shirt over your head, throwing it somewhere on the sand along with your other clothes before drifting you to the centre of the pond.
"Let's see if you remember your training," he hummed, lifting the two of you onto a rock till he fully emerged, revealing muscles rippling across the expanse of his tanned skin, and of course, the deliciously long cock that slapped against his stomach. "How do swans like to mate?"
"Uhm," you stammered out, your skin turning pink wherever he touched. His long, wet hair brushed against your collarbone as he leaned over you, tracing your entrance with his fingers. "Like, mirroring each other?"
"Good girl," he pushed two fingers inside of you, watching your back arch. You watched him through lidded eyes as he arched as well, nipples brushing against his chest. It looked as if he was feeling your pleasure through you, scissoring his fingers so that your entrance stretched out. "Which means you can't squirm, got it?"
You nodded, watching him pump his cock in his hands a few times, precum leaking off the mushroom tip before pushing it inside you in one thrust, groaning. You squealed, gripping onto his arms so tight that your nails formed half moons. You flinched as he did the same, digging into the soft flesh of your upper arm.
Instead of fucking you at a speed you wanted, he pushed off the rock till you were both submerged in the pond once more, warm water lapping around your collarbones. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist for support.
Suguru swung his hands behind your neck lazily, languidly starting to grind inside of you, hitting spots that made you see stars. "Mirror me."
You followed his actions, hands resting behind his neck as he pulled your body flush against his, meeting your lips tentatively. His cock continued to grind in tight circles against your cervix, his veins kissing your walls just as well as he was kissing you right now. The soft kiss quickly turned messy, tongue fighting with yours for dominance. He thrust his length further in to make you gasp, using the leverage to push his tongue inside your mouth eagerly.
Each slow roll of his hips caught against your clit, pleasure building and building until you felt like you were about to collapse. You'd never have thought something so slow could have brought you to an orgasm so fast. Just the feeling of being so full of him had already gotten you halfway there, but the precision with which he rolled his pelvis against yours was making you dizzy. A slight purr has started resonating from his throat, filling the noise between the sultry kissing.
He pulled away from the kiss to press his forehead against yours, breath mingling above the water. "Come for me, pretty."
You didn't have to be told twice, cumming with your eyes shut, letting out sounds he was surely going to mock later on when he had the chance. You were pretty sure he was going to try, knowing the way his mouth had curved up slightly in a smirk, but he cut himself off with a moan as you tightened around him, spilling into you just a second later.
You rested your head on his shoulder as your afterglow crept up your body, leaving you giddy. You felt his cheek hit your shoulder right after, biting at the lobe of your ear.
It was only after quite a few minutes of remaining in his embrace and deep breaths that you finally started to process the deep rumbling coming from his chest. Your eyes opened in surprise, hand moving to stroke his hair and feeling the rumble get louder. "…Are you purring?"
"Shut the fuck up."
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
Age: 20
Species: Calyptorhynchus banksii
Information: As parrot-type hybrids are allowed to roam free in the facility due to their social needs, this specific hybrid is always at the side of the assigned caretaker.
Mating: Cockatoo males are one of the few that can use tools to make music to woo their female counterparts. Cockatoo hybrids are also notorious for needing constant attention, and some types may even feel emotions like jealousy.
cockatoo!megumi really fucking hated that parrot.
Who the fuck did he even think he was? It wasn't like you were his caretaker, so why was he always talking to you? He would sway his green hair around, the spiky mohawk far more impressive than Megumi's black spikes. His wings were larger too. Instead of just black like his, they were green with yellow undertones.
Fuck this parrot.
And don't even get him started on his goddamn caretaker, this pervert! He was so sure he'd caught him staring at your ass at least three times; both the parrot and the man didn't deserve to be anywhere near you. Not like he did. Especially not with the way they always joined you for lunch, taking up his time to talk to you. So what if you were doing most of the talking? He still wanted to listen! As long as you were talking to him.
So, could you really blame him for snapping one day? Hugging you from behind the moment he saw that perv with you, and to you it seemed like his normal clingy behaviour, but the man in front of him could see his dark look. It wasn't a glare, no, he didn't even deserve that- it was something promising a public humiliation ritual if he ever spoke to you ever again. The parrot, wiser than his master, chose to flee before he did.
You caught on just as fast as he expected you to.
"What is wrong with you?" You burst at him the moment you went back to his nest, sweating from using the rope to climb, since of course this picky bitch chose the highest branch on the tree.
"Nothing is wrong with me!" He looked irritantingly cool, clearly because he had wings to fly up here. "They don't need to talk to you!"
"I was making friends!" You groaned, feeling your way across the bark of the tree in the moonlight to reach his nest properly, searching for the cavity in the bark. "I need coworkers as connections. He was going to help me find mates for you!"
"As if I need any of those," he scoffed at you. Even in his sulky behaviour, he still reached out to grab at your hand, holding onto your skin. "When I have you."
"No, we have talked about this before," you argued with him, jerking your hand back and earning a hiss from him. "You can't mate with me, so stop trying to scare away other males like you have any right to." The wooden whistle he'd given you dangled around your neck.
"I have every right to," he walked closer to you, all up in your face and cornering you against the hard, carved-out bark of the giant tree. "Do they get to eat with you every day? Do they listen to you talk for hours while drawing patterns on your skin? Do they get to see you change before bed? No, they don't! Because I do, because you're my mate. I've already marked you, and there's nothing you can do about it."
You stayed silent throughout his monologue, feeling annoyance bubble up in your chest. No wonder every time you tried to take on an extra hybrid for money, they would turn you down. The bastard must have done something to you, and you never suspected a thing. Your annoyance turned to fury at the look in his eyes, the way he was still trying to feel your skin.
He wanted to mate? Fine.
"Fuh-" Megumi's eyes rolled back as you rode him, hands resting heavily against his chest for leverage, hips working overtime. "Slow down, please-"
"Shut up," you slapped him, actually slapped him, swivelling your hips in tight circles. His feathers were pressed against the twigs at the bottom of his cozy nest in a way that was almost painful, yet it was turning him on so bad. He threw a hand over his eyes as he tried to buck his hips upward to meet you, but you immediately stopped, causing him to let out a choked sob.
"Why?" He whined, reaching up for you but getting his hands swatted away. Your phone lay beside you, the recording app on, catching every lewd squelch and moan. You were going to play this back later for him, showing him how pathetic he was.
"Who told you that you could move?" You snapped at him, sitting perfectly still on a load he was about to bust. He could feel his orgasm dying down in dismay, yet his cock remained rock hard.
"Just move!" cockatoo!megumi groaned, cheeks heating up from the position he was in. This was the most embarrassed and simultaneously the most aroused he'd ever been in his entire life.
"Apologize."
"For what?!"
"For not listening to my commands."
"…" Radio silence from his part just pissed you off more, and you scoffed, moving to get off his cock. "Okay fine then, since you're so adamant-"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he threw his pride away, lifting his neck from the ground just to look at you better, and actually started to beg. "Just move."
"What's the magic word?" Your hand reached around to play with his balls, feeling them soaked from the way your juices had slipped onto them.
He whimpered at the sensation, eyes rolling back. "God, please move, mommy."
Stunned for a second, you blinked at your bratty hybrid being so pliant in your hands.
You were only going for "please", but the freak had other ideas, clearly. You guessed it counted, starting to move again with a new fervor, wanting to cum as well. As much as you had done this mainly to spite him, you also realised that the way he split you open was far too good to be a one-time thing. "Aw, you're gonna be mommy's good boy?"
"Yes yes yes yes I will," He nodded desperately, his hands moving to grip your thighs that bracketed his hips without realising. You would have chided him if this was ten minutes ago, but you decided to give the poor guy a break. You'd been edging him for over half an hour now, and he looked like he was actually going to start crying. "Yes, I promise, I promise I'll be such a good boy please let me cum-"
You clenched around him tightly on purpose just to watch him fall apart, moaning loudly as he spilled into you, somehow managing to keep his hips from bucking upwards. You rubbed your clit hastily to cum at the same time, bowing towards his frame as your orgasm crashed upon you. You kept moving just for the sake of it until he started to cry from the overstimulation, begging you to stop.
Your bodies were sticky as you lay against each other, breathing heavily into the night air. Some poor neighbour cockatoo was about to move to another nest. You turned on your side, exhausted, when you felt cold fingers creep up your collarbone and to your necklace.
You opened your eyes just a crack to see cockatoo!megumi fiddling with the whistle, subdued, before blowing into it carefully and making a pretty tune. It was quiet enough that only the two of you could hear it, the small, high-pitched sounds accompanied by his breath into the instrument.
I'm sorry, was what the action translated to.
You sighed, hugging him close to you and snuggling up against his chest. "Apology accepted."
"That means you won't talk to them again, right?"
"I have audio proof of you calling me mommy and yourself a good boy-"
canine hybrid!reader getting put into a mean prone bone by ghost all because you've been having issues biting people lately during trainings. your usually so good, but lately you've been acting up.
when he realizes what's up after talking about it with gaz, soap, and price while you look all sad and guilty in front of them, he's smacking himself in the head. "shite...can't believe i didn't realize it sooner," is all he grumbles before getting up and dragging you to his room
"all you needed was a little bit of command, right? no one fulfilling your needs by taking control...everything just got too big for ya, didn' it, pup?" all you can get out is a mix of a growl and whine, your eyes in the back of your head as he pounds you nice and deep, arm around your head.
"yeah, tha's it, jus' let me fuck it outta you, sit there and be good," he grunts, squeezing your head a little bit. "poor thing...'m sorry, sweetheart, i forgot my lil' thing doesn't like being in charge. go stupid for me, jus' like that..."
living with your best friends sounded like a dream at first. it wasnt until finals season that you realized you needed a place of your own. your peace and quiet didnt last long, at least not with guitarist tetsuro kuroo as your neighbor.
♫ status: ongoing
♫ tags: kuroo tetsuro x f!reader, smau and written story mixed, neighbors to lovers, enemies to lovers, ooc kuroo (hes a dick), ooc everyone probably, college au, band au, reader is an art student, beabadoobee carried this.
♫ warnings: alcohol use, self sabotaging reader, mention of parental pressure, kys jokes, suggestive jokes, swearing, lots of self-deprecating "jokes", not super proof read. lmk if i missed anything!
♫ taglist: open! reply or send an ask to be added
♫ a/n: this is my first smau so bear with me. the regularity of chapters is unknown but i definitely want to get this done before summer ends. pls be patient with me and enjoy!
there you sat, sketching in your notebook while a bunch of college aged guys play their instruments in a dingy garage. the wooden stools you and oikawa are posted on are widely uncomfortable and no doubt taken from a shutdown bar.
you try not to engage too much with the house keepers. the leader of their band, whose name you couldn’t quite remember, politely welcomed you into their home before immediately retreating to his mic stand. bokuto, your favorite out of the bunch, offered a lively introduction and even offered you both drinks or snacks. and the red-haired bassist almost instantly recognized oikawa from twitter, which is odd considering he only posted his face a handful of times.
oikawa lets out an agitated groan, causing you to turn your head his direction. “tobio is coming to visit next weekend.” he says without you asking.
“kageyama? the guy shoyo likes?” you reply, looking back down at your sketchbook and over at the instruments set up before you.
“do you know any other tobios?” he shoots back. oikawa sits on his stool, perfectly postured and legs crossed as he scrolls on his phone with one hand. you roll your eyes at the supposed pro athlete you brought along to protect you. “theyre going to The Scene.”
“that place makes me hate myself. i always feel like im being left out of something somehow.”
“you ever think that’s because you are being left out.” you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as i turn around to see the arrogant guitarist behind you. “you probably asked them to turn down the amp so you could focus drawing on your napkin.”
you scoff. “i bet you know all about being left out. must’ve been a hard childhood having to yell and beg for the attention of others all the time.”
“says the one with graphite dust on her chin.”
you roll your eyes, looking over at oikawa who awkwardly reaches over and whips the grey substance off your face.
“we have a gig that weekend. tell your friends to come by.” kuroo says oh so nonchalantly.
“and watch as their ear drums bust from your playing? i would never let my friends endure your presence longer than i have today.”
“oh please, you just heard us play and your ear drums are fine.” he narrows his eyes and leans down, looking over your shoulder at the sketches in your hand. multiple different thumbnails spread across the page, proof of you trying to find the right one that encapsulates the electric feeling you got from their performance.
he reaches over and points at one of them. “this one’s really nice. looks less like one of those AI function posters.” he says, giving himself a light chuckle.
“don’t ever insult my work like that again” you say, turning your head to face him. he’s much closer than you realized, much…sweatier too. suppose shredding guitar is a more grueling task than you thought.
he smirks before standing straight again. “we’re about finished so you guys are free to leave whenever you’d like. i’d do it sooner than later. i’m pretty sure i saw semi’s ear grow 3 sizes when you mentioned The Scene.”
oikawa is quick to grab his things, ushering you to do that same. bokuto offers you a snack to go, one that is most definitely not his to give out but you take, nonetheless. before you guys could walk out of the driveway, tendou rushes to ask oikawa for a follow back.
extra
a little bit of a short one. ive been taking time to focus on exactly how i want this story to progress. logically that means futures chapters should come out faster right? ...right?
idk if i ever specified that station twelve minus kuroo live in a house and not an apartment but if i ever said otherwise i was lying
tendou so chronically online he would recognize oikawa off twitter dot com.
semis fomo for the scene is too much for him to bear.
surprisingly the practice was not as awkward and as dreadful as yn imagined
kianamaiart
prguitarman
romaincrisis
baratheonpilled
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
yousharknotpass
