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a-kaash-me-outside · 1 year

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a bit dirty - ch1

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. ch1 | next [masterlist]

// maybe a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6683 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, cute flirting before, drinking but not drunk sex, unprotected sex (NO PREGNANCY TROPE I PROMISE I SWEAR FOREVER), thigh fucking, slight missed connection trope, names names names pet names a million pet names, minimal foreplay (unless you count flirting as foreplay), afab she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you are completely aware that you should not be out right now.

but you are.

and you could chalk that up to your horribly persuasive friends and their constant nagging and pleading for you to tag along with them tonight or your distaste for saying no to people and disappointing them or even a mild fear of missing the played out events of a really great night in your head.

the truth is, it doesn't matter the reason that you’re out despite how kinda stupid it is. the fact is, you know that it’s a bad idea to be entering a club at 12am when the alarm in your pocket is set to 6am, but you’re doing it anyway. sure, you were lightly bullied and, sure, you keep offering deprecating and pity-me sentences about how you really shouldn’t be out, but you’re still there. you’re still out.

you’re still hovering over a high-top table in the corner of the club a few steps from the bar screaming over loud music, “i told you guys that i didn’t really want to drink tonight.” yet, a drink is, indeed, thrusted into your hand. the glass bottle is cool against your palm, fingers smudging the condensation on the label as you hold it tight.

“if you don’t want it, i’ll drink it,” your friend offers, red jacket bunched around his wrist as he extends his hand towards you, palm shaped so the bottle would fit perfectly against it. you shake your head, bringing it to your lips, taking a sip, and then another, and then another.

“this is such a bad idea, kuroo,” you drone, exhaling as you take another sip.

“yn,” kuroo says abruptly, one hand placed on your shoulder, fingers squeezing to call you to look at him, “we know.”

“do you want to go home?” akaashi asks, calling your bluff or genuinely concerned, you’re not completely sure. he turns to another member of your friend group for confirmation and a bit of support, “bo, should we just take her home?”

you stick your hand out in between them as if this would stop the conversation from progressing or any decisions from being made. you shake your head, “no. no, i don’t want to go home.”

“then maybe loosen up and act like it,” bokuto implores, hands on your shoulders, leaning his definitely not a tiny bit of weight against you, bouncing along with the beat of the song.

“i just feel like if i keep saying it’s a bad idea,” you reason, narrowing your eyes as the sentences finishes in your head and you know that you’re going to get flamed when it actually comes out of your mouth, “that it makes up for the fact that i’m out because i feel bad for it?”

definitely not.

yeah, i don’t think so.

nice try.

bad logic, yn, really bad.

you groan, “okay, okay. fine. actually having fun. because i’m out,” you point at akaashi and he nods back at you, “and so why not just enjoy it instead of making myself miserable for being out?”

“and us,” tsukishima notes, “don’t forget us. you’re also making us miserable.”

kuroo throws his arm around tsukishima, runs the tops of his knuckles over his hair as he laughs, “you’re always miserable. you don’t count.”

“tch, knock it off,” tsukishima swats at kuroo’s fist so violently that he almost falls over.

“yea,” you say in an attempt to convince yourself, “just have a fun time and don’t think about the fact that i should probably be on my way home right now.”

akaashi bumps his shoulder into yours, the one that bokuto’s fingers are still tightly grasped around. “you know how to have fun, yn,” he reminds you, “laughing at those dumbasses is usually a good start.” akaashi nods towards tsukishima and kuroo trying, and failing, to contain their back and forth, bumping into the table and spilling bokuto’s drink.

it is a good start, you suppose. you can’t help but laugh, actually, as they start yelling at each other, blame spewing and insults flown. “and then,” akaashi says, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to your drink. he raises his own, waits for you to do the same and then lightly taps the neck against yours. you raise the bottle to your lips, tilt it upwards, and don’t bring it back down until the only weight in your hand is the empty glass.

“c’mon, idiots, you owe bo a new drink,” akaashi shouts over the already loud club and added bickering, “and we need a refill also.”

they either don’t hear him or choose to ignore him. neither tsukishima nor kuroo even bat an eye to akaashi waving his hands to get their attention or the dramatic sigh that he forces. bokuto notices, though, nods to the bar as he says, “c’mon, we will go get new drinks. they won’t even notice we’re gone!”

your tiny nod is confirmation enough. bokuto grabs your wrist, gently pulls you through the mass amounts of people to the bar, moving through the crowd much easier than you would’ve on your own. sure, you could maneuver in and out of people, but bokuto could barrel right through them, polite enough to offer small sorrys and excuse mes, but assertive enough to keep moving the entire time.

bokuto presses up against the counter, leans over the top to order whatever drinks he’s ordering, and then waits patiently while the bartender grabs said drinks. you stand next to him, akaashi on the other side of bo, a bit of space between you resting with your lower back on the edge of the countertop and the horde of people dancing in the vicinity.

the bar is a bit of an oasis, somewhat more organized than the conglomerate of different groups that occupied the rest of the venue. there is a patience here that you don’t get in other parts of the club, a knowing restraint that you welcome like a breath of fresh air. you scan the length of the bar, the groups of people inhabiting the same space that you are for the same reason that you are and among them, a man with gray hair and a tight black t-shirt who keeps looking over in your direction.

everytime you try to sneak a private glance, he’s already looking at you, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second before pretending that he was looking somewhere else. you’re suddenly feeling much warmer than before, perhaps it has something to do with the club lights or the large gathering of people or the way the two guys that are with him keep nudging him in your direction.

“that guy keeps looking at you,” bokuto notes, pointing very blatantly at the man across the bar. “you should go talk to him.”

“no way!” you instantly reject the thought.

akaashi leans forward, peeking out from the other side of bo. “step three of having a fun night out? getting railed by a mystery guy who keeps throwing you looks,” akaashi explains, head nodding, no inclination of sarcasm.

“you said talk to him,” you say, glance thrown over your shoulder just in case he’s already gone. that would solve a lot of your inner turmoil right now. but when you do look, he’s looking right back. this time, he keeps eye contact with you for an entire second before pulling away.

“right, well, and then fuck him,” akaashi says, mischevious smile, shrugging his shoulders as if it were obvious.

“i don’t do that,” you explain.

“you haven’t done that,” bokuto says, “there’s a difference.”

“look, you’re out, you’re trying to have a good time, that hot fuckin’ guy is staring you down?” akaashi says, naming all of the reasons that he believes this is a great idea, “and the four of us are here if something is weird. this is the perfect opportunity.”

“no, no,” you shake your head, “besides, i’ve gotta finish this drink and tsukishima and kuroo are probably-”

bokuto taps his card against the machine as you babble on excuses and grabs the drinks from the counter in the middle of your sentence, handing one to akaashi and holding the other two. “oh nooo,” bokuto whines, “turns out these drinks are for me. better find someone else to buy you a drink.” he makes eye contact with akaashi, nods towards the direction of where you all came from and starts moving that way.

you move to follow them, but your feet don’t move, heart beating against your chest as your core tells you that if you hesitate for only a moment, they will be out of reach and it’ll actually be easier to just sit here at the bar. and if something were to happen while you were abandoned by your friends, if the buff looking tall guy a few feet down the bar decides to talk to you, then it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have ever happened to you.

it’s not just that you don’t move, it’s that you make the very conscious choice not to move. you take a deep breath and check one more time that he’s still there, that he’s still looking at you, and he is. you let your stare linger this time, you have no other obligations or people to talk with. it’s you, all alone at this bar, waiting for one particularly attractive man to make his way over to you and talk to you, you might as well make it obvious.

with him are two other guys, one that looks eerily like him but with brassy dyed hair and a louder personality and another one with a black mask on and dark, curly hair. the blonde one nods in your direction, pushes him with his shoulder once and then twice and then a third time. you think that this will cause a reaction, but it doesn’t.

you’re almost ready to concede, make your way back to the high top and have a good night without going out of your comfort zone, but the other guy leans over and says something in his ear, points at you with his chin, and then pulls the blonde guy away and leaves the gray haired guy alone just like you.

for someone who didn’t make his way over to you the first three times someone shoved him in your direction, it doesn’t take him long to walk over to you once he’s alone. you wonder if you’ll have to say something first, what will you say first, what should you say first?

“did your friends leave ya too?” he asks, and if you hadn’t downed your first drink and you weren’t as nervous as you were, you might’ve noticed how out of place he sounded as well.

you laugh, offer a short nod as he takes place next to you, leaning against the bar the same way you are. you’re rooting through your brain to concoct an adequate response, one that will entice him to stay, continue a conversation, let him know that you’re very interested while also not telling him that outright, but all of that thinking is rendering you currently silent.

still, he tries again, asks something much easier, “can i buy ya a drink?”

you nod again, turning towards him this time, but not before catching a glimpse of his profile, his chest, his forearms tense with his fingers gripping the edge of the counter. tonight was definitely not a mistake. you don’t care how early you have to be up tomorrow. “only if you stick around for a dance too,” you say, hand ghosting on said tense forearm, testing the waters, voice projecting so that you’re sure he hears you.

he laughs this time, gorgeously genuine smirk appearing along with it. “i don’t really dance,” he admits, “but to talk to ya a bit longer? i’d be stupid not to.” his eyes flicker down to your lips, the way your tongue peeks out for just a second and your teeth scrape against the bottom, and then back up to your eyes, wider than before but just as lust-stricken.

he turns, flags down a bartender. on their way over to the two of you, he leans down, “what can i getcha?”

“i’m not picky,” you respond, “i’m pretty adventurous, actually. i like trying new things. i feel like you can learn a lot about someone from drinking their go-to drink.” you feel like you’re rambling, but he’s looking at you like you’re the cutest thing on earth.

he leans over the bar, orders whatever he orders, and then quickly returns back to your side. “so what did you order?” you ask. “what will i be drinking?”

“spiced rum and coke,” he calls back, “what does that say about me?”

“hm?” you question, tilting your head.

“ya said that ya can learn a lot about someone from their go-to drink. what does that say about me?” he asks, smiling.

you purse your lips, mulling it over for a second. “i think it says that you like the classics, but with a more exciting twist,” you say back. “like-”

he wraps his arm around your waist, cutting you off as he pulls you closer to him, moving you out of the way of some far too drunk couple that was knocked in your direction, drink sloshing right where you were just standing. “sorry,” he says, very slow to remove his hand from your waist, but you lean back into it.

“don’t apologize,” you say, staying pressed up against his side. “practically saved my life,” you joke. “if the roles were reversed, you’d be drenched right now. i’m not that fast.” he raises his eyebrows at your sentence, but you don’t correct yourself, just avert his gaze and laugh at yourself. “did you have that all planned or?” you ask.

“nope,” he says, arm still around your waist as he pulls his card out of his pocket to pay. he hands you one of the drinks. “just the stars aligning or somethin.”

the spice of the rum is nice, warming, a bit more flavorful, an unexpectedly fun twist to a classic. you smile up at him. “now you owe me a dance,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor full of people.

he doesn’t hesitate, slides his hand down your side, digs his fingers into the fat of your hip, and nods in the same direction as you. “lead the way,” he says. he follows you as you weave through groups of friends and drunk couples until you find a somewhat less crowded corner. the music isn’t as loud here, a bit further away from the speakers and the action, but it feels perfect for the two of you.

dancing is a generous word for what the two of you are doing. it starts more like swaying, his hand still on your hip, your hand now on his shoulder. you’re both still chained with mostly empty drinks in one hand, taking small sips here and there in between half-lidded eye contact and half-steps closer to the other.

“is it bad that i want to get rid of this ridiculously over-charged drink so that i can put both of my hands on you?” he asks, leaning down to place his lips against your ear despite the fact that the music isn’t necessarily loud enough to warrant that. you shake your head, his lips brushing against the side of your cheek as you do, and then you let it fall onto his shoulder.

you reach out, feel alone guiding you as you set your half-drank cup on a random table. you clasp your hands around his neck, allowing yourself to lean backwards to take him all in, pretty gray eyes, hungry look in the depths of them. you tangle your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. you really want to kiss him.

the hand that just held his drink is colder, shocking almost as it smooths down your lower back, fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt, toying with the fabric and the zipper on the side. now you really want to kiss him.

he’s staring directly into your eyes as his fingers ghost over the lace of your underwear. he doesn’t pull away at the feeling, doesn’t stutter or retreat or dive deeper, but pushes his fingers underneath the band, dull nails scraping against the soft skin of your hip. you really want to kiss him right now.

he’s so focused on touching you, on teasing you, on watching your adorable expression as you try to keep yourself composed, that you decide to take matters into your own hands, pulling him down into you and pushing up into him, lips smashing against his, fingers threading into his hair.

you talk in the same instances that you breathe, in between long, sloppy kisses and roaming touches. “i don’t normally do this,” you admit. “am i supposed to say that?”

“i wouldn’t know,” he says back, out of breath before pressing a kiss into your lips again, speaking against them, “i don’t either.”

“looking like that?” you ask, just as out of breath as he is, “your hands confident as that? yea fuckin right.”

he pulls away for a real breath, chest rising and falling a bit heavier than usual, tongue swiping over his lip to swallow the spit you’ve left there. “honest,” he replies.

you shake your head. you still don’t necessarily believe him, “i suppose i don’t have to trust you to go fuck you in the bathroom.”

he tilts his head, a huge smile on his face now. “oh?” he questions, “is that how far this is goin? ya thinking that far out?”

you blush, instantly warm against his touch. “well, no, i- i didn’t mean-,” you stutter.

“i mean, i suppose it doesn’t have to be that far out,” he says, low, as he brings one hand up and places your chin between his fingers, demanding your eye contact. “it could be in the next thirty seconds if ya want.”

all you can do is nod, but that’s enough for him. he’s dragging you by the waist to the other corner of the club, nodding towards the only single-room, open bathroom and you nod even more dramatically, following him inside.

he locks the door behind you and his hands are instantly back on your body, gripped around each of your hips, both pressing you against the door and holding you in place as you pull his face down into you harder. he slides his hands to your lower back, down your ass, pushing up your skirt so he can feel your soft skin directly on his large hands.

he uses this grip to lift you, back sliding against the bathroom door as he pulls you closer to him. he doesn’t have to lean down as far to kiss you now, doesn’t have to worry about using his hands to press you into the door. your legs are wrapped around him, his hips pressed between them.

he kisses down your neck. “do i get to know your name?” he asks into your collarbones.

“do you need to?” you ask, cheek against the top of his head.

when he laughs, you can feel the vibrations dance across your chest, “guess not.” he licks a strip up your neck, grinding his hips against you, “what do you want me to call you tonight then?”

“something cute,” you offer.

he laughs again, “alright, doll, i’ll get creative then.” he holds you tight, both hands on the undersides of your thighs as he moves you to the sink, sets you on the edge of the porcelain fixture. his hands move to the tops of your thighs, sliding up and up until the hem of your skirt is at the top of your hips, exposing the lacey panties he was toying with moments ago.

surprisingly, this weird grip that he has on the tops of your thighs is not doing a horrible job at keeping you up right, but the longer that he feels your skin, drags his nails against the fats of your thighs, nudges open your legs with his knee, the less his focus is on keeping you steady. your core is tight, engaged to not fall backwards into the faucet, but perched right on the edge.

“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs against your neck, hooks both of his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulls them down your thighs, over your knees, and lets them rest around your ankles and the fact that he’s being this mindful, doesn’t let your panties touch the gross bathroom floor, either means that he has, indeed, done this before or, the much worse option, he’s just that considerate and thoughtful.

he wraps one arm around your lower back, places one large hand on the inside of your thigh and slides it further between your legs until the tip of his thumb rubs against your already messy clit. you reach out on instinct, fingers wrapping around his forearm, eyes begging to stare into his, but he can’t pull away from the way that you’re teetering on the edge of the sink, thighs quivering to keep yourself upright as he begins to tease you, so you force it, slide your grip up his arm and shoulder and tilt his head to look you in the eyes and now he’s convinced he can’t ever pull away from this sight.

your eyebrows are knit together but always moving, lip jutted out, chin tilted upwards, breathing already unsteady and he can feel the heat radiating from your entire body. he watches your jaw fall open as he drags the tips of two fingers between your puffy lips, circling the pads against your hole once before your tiny, but insistent nods convince him to push inside. your eyes close lazily and then open half-lidded, corners of your lip upturn into a blissful smile, and the prettiest hum leaves your throat as his fingers fill you.

with your position on the sink it’s not easy, but you move your hips forward the smallest bit. it barely pushes his fingers deeper, but the miniscule movements are better than nothing. he could give you everything you wanted right now, could curl his fingers and move so fast that his arm’ll be sore tomorrow, but there’ll be time for that in a second. right now, you’re whimpering so needy for him, soft walls clenching around two fingers, juices dripping into his palm and down to his wrist, a slow, sticky squelching louder than the music and chatter behind the closed door.

“more?” you ask, quiet and sweet. you could’ve told him politely or demanded it, however you wanted to communicate your need would’ve been good enough for him, but you ask him so nicely and he knows exactly how the rest of the night will go, knows exactly what you need from him.

“oh, sweetheart,” he says and the butterflies in your stomach are getting restless now. he nudges your legs open wider with his knee, steps in between them to get a better angle, chest against your shoulder as he starts fingering you faster, driving his two thick, long fingers deeper inside of you, curling as he pulls his arm back towards himself. “give ya anything ya want when ya ask that nicely.”

you can’t think of any other words, the only thing leaving your mouth over and over again is, “fuck fuck fuck” as he fucks you so pretty with his fingers. you’re so wet around him, so easy for his fingers to slip in and out of you and you’re having a hard time keeping your legs spread. if he weren’t standing between them, they’d be closed around his hand right now. it’s all so much.

your forehead falls into his bicep, nodding against the muscle, fingers grip around the edge of the sink as you babble, “gonna come, please, gonna make me come.”

“then come, bunny,” he says, presses a soft kiss into your hair, and you’re gone. you listen to him so well, he can’t help but smile as he continues the motions, fingering you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around him, flooding even more. the grip on your waist gets tighter as you lose control, taking care of you as nearly every thought leaves your head. if he were any less in control, less thoughtful, you’d be on the floor right now.

“and what do i call you?” you pant the second that you’re able to think again, hands not really sure where to root as they move from his chest to his shoulder to his forearm.

“s’pose you might need something to call out when i wreck ya, huh?” he asks, kissing the side of your jaw because it’s the closest thing he can reach, thankful for your tiny recovery as he reaches down with one hand to undo his belt and jeans.

fuck. you swallow harshly, not caring for even a second how much the effect of these words is showing on your face. this confidence might look tacky or awkward on somebody else, but his beaming genuine smile and equally as strong grip on your waist is driving you insane already and you know he’s not lying, he’s going to ruin you. you nod.

“don’t matter to me, princess,” he says, smearing the juices on his fingers down the length of his cock, swirling around his tip, but you don’t dare look down, eyes on his as he finishes his sentence, “as long as it’s coming out of your pretty mouth, you can call me whatever you want.”

“and you say you haven’t done this before,” you breathe, voice very unsteady for how confident that sentence could’ve been.

“i really haven’t,” he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss you. “honest. just something about you that’s driving me crazy,” he says, wet fingers digging into your hip under your skirt, and for some dumb fucking reason you believe him, nodding stupid like he needed confirmation to a plain statement and you hope he understands that this means that you want him right now.

you press your forehead against his shoulder, catching only a glimpse of him lining himself up, finally having a scene to match the sensations as he drags his thick head between your sloppy lips, grids the underside against your clit, pushes the tip against your slightly stretched hole.

“nuhhuh,” he says, picking your chin up, shaking his head, talking so soft that you accept it all as gospel, “look at me, dove. you can watch later, but right now, i need to see your pretty expression as i spear ya, okay?”

all you can do is nod, all you can say is, “okay.”

he smirks, kisses the side of your jaw so quickly before pulling away, eyes scanning every facial feature so he can notice the change in every single one, and then he pushes inside of you. the moan that rips from you is so loud that you’re convinced every person in the building can hear it. it breaks off at the end, so forceful that your vocal chords can’t support it, and you can’t see how entranced he’s looking at you because you can’t focus on anything.

you’re so fucking full.

he’s pressed completely up against you, hips resting on the insides of your thighs, arm around your lower back to pull you into him, your chest against his, and his face is so close to yours, but not close enough that he can’t see how hard he’s already wrecking you just by being inside of you.

his hips pull back slowly. you can feel every inch leaving you and you’re already squirming at not being filled to the brim, circling your hips as best you can on the edge of the sink. he pushes forward again, harsher this time. your head falls against his shoulder and from this position, you can finally see it, the sheen of your slick on his cock as he pulls out and fucks back into you, how thick he is as he disappears inside of you. your walls clench around him at the sight, his hips stutter at the feeling, he needs more.

every thrust inside of you, the fronts of his thighs slam against the side of the sink. you feel like the entire room is shaking with how forceful he’s being, but he can’t help himself, not when you’re sucking him in so tight. “shit, so fuckin’ perfect for me, fuck, so wet, ‘s it feel good, pumpkin?”

you nod vehemently, can barely talk amongst your whimpers and whines, can’t even really form a thought it feels so fucking good. “mmm,” you whine, “feels mm- feel- s- so good, baby, fuck, so so s- so good.”

“can’t even talk, you’re so cock drunk, huh, pretty?” he asks, moving both of his hands to your hips, rocking you back and forth to meet his thrusts and you just let him.

“please don’t stop, please, gonna come,” you say, the only string of words you’ve managed since he’s started fucking you, but you need him to know how close you are.

“lemme feel it, babygirl, lemme feel how tight ya get when you’re comin’ on my cock, yea?” he coaxes, rhythmic pace unwavering, harder now even as he pushes you over the edge. before you even make a noise, he knows that you’re coming, can feel you gush, dripping down the underside of his cock as you squeeze him impossibly tighter and he’s throbbing now, doesn’t know how much longer he can take it when you’re making such adorable noises and looking at him like that between bouts of inabilities to focus and panting that heavily.

he lets you ride through your orgasm completely as he hammers into you, lets you recover fully before even thinking about asking, “can i come on your thighs, angel?”

“oh, fuck,” you breathe, gummy walls fluttering at the thought.

you’re so drenched, juices running down your thighs and the inside of your legs, that it’s easy for him to press your legs together and fuck into them to finish. your plush thighs aren’t as tight as your cunt, but they’re softer, fuller, kinder, and he can’t get enough of the feeling and the sight, skin rippling as his thick cock slides against the sheened skin, disappearing into the fats of them repeatedly. you can’t stop looking either, forehead pressed against his as you both watch this sight in awe.

“gonna paint your thighs white, puppy, fuck,” he announces, his own breath getting heavier, thrusts getting less rhythmic, more messy as he gives in, heavy cock resting between your thighs as he releases.

the throb is violent against the inside of your thighs and you can feel every single pulse as stream after stream of his sticky load coats your thighs. as the last bit of come drools out of the tip, he presses your legs together harder and pushes his hips forward one more time, hissing as his sensitive cock slides through the mess of come he’s created on your legs.

“holy shit,” he breathes after a silent second. or, well, as silent as it can be with an entire world of people and happenings just a door away.

you nod, finally catching your own as you cup his cheek with your hand, guiding him down to meet your lips one last time, not because you’re desperate or needing, but something that you hope he takes with him as he leaves the bathroom and the club, a wordless thank you.

in the aftermath of lust and infatuation, you smile at him. he holds you in place, but leans away from you to grab some form of tissue to clean you up. he helps you down from the edge of the sink, helps you stand up right when your feet touch the floor, backs of your thighs aching from being pushed into the edge of a cheap sink all night.

“well,” you shyly bend over to pull your panties up from around your ankles, “really great night,” you say, voice still weak even after you clear your throat.

“yea,” he breathes a light chuckle, “a really great night,” he agrees.

you wait a beat, patient to see if he’s going to add anything else, a prying question or longing statement. the longer that you stay in this bathroom, the louder the noises of the confines get, the outside fading away momentarily as you hear the occasional drip of the faucet and the hum of fluorescent lights.

“do you think i could-,” he starts.

“i should probably get back to-,” you start at the same time.

“what?” you ask quickly, rushing to get him to finish the sentence he started, but there’s a soft pink on his cheeks and he’s quiet for another couple of seconds, and then he shakes his head.

“nothing,” he says, “i should get back to my friends too.” you only notice the sigh, the gulp, the hesitance and the regret because you’re looking for it, because you’re feeling it too.

his hand is on the door handle and for a single second you’re sure that he’s going to say something else, finish his other sentence or start a new, but he doesn’t. he opens the door, the loudness of the music unwelcomed in comparison to the privacy and seclusion of your bathroom hookup.

“well,” you repeat, “maybe i’ll see you some other time and you can fuck me in the bathroom again.” his hand is still on your waist as he smiles huge and his laughter takes residency in your chest seemingly until the end of time.

“or, maybe you could-,” he starts, but perhaps the stars have unaligned themselves now, because he can’t seem to catch a break.

“HEY!” kuroo screams from across the bar the second that he makes eye contact with you. akaashi hits him once and then a second time for good measure, leaning in and overtly pointing to the person next to you. kuroo raises his arm, taps on his wrist with the other hand, and oh god you don’t even want to know what time it is. still, you shake your head and turn your attention back to your fling that you hope asks for a number and turns into at the very least a longer-term fling.

“sorry about him,” you shake your head, and you swear he looks like he’s going to try one more time, pushing past all of the things that are refusing to let him ask you a simple question, but the blonde from earlier catches his attention, making a similar motion with wide eyes, chest forward like he’s going to walk over here any minute and your well it was really great while it lasted fling is removing his hand from your lower back.

“i hope so, yea,” he replies, a smaller smile now as he turns his body towards the two people he was with before that are heading to the exit. “i really hope so.”

the second that he starts to move so do you, both making your way through the dwindling crowd to the respective groups that you came here with, throwing a look over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure that, yes, he is indeed stealing the same obsessive glances that you are as he leaves.

“i can’t fucking believe you,” you say, hitting kuroo on the same shoulder that akaashi did, “he was about to give me his number, and now he’s gone forever.”

“you’d think that you’d get his number before you left the bathroom, yn, god,” kuroo says, shifting blame. “besides, maybe you’ll come out with us more now instead of being a buzzkill all the time, instead of being all guys, it’s not a good idea and i literally have work in the morning and-”

“kuroo is… oddly right,” akaashi says, interrupting him and shrugging, “in some weird way. he probably comes here from time to time, i’m sure you’ll run into him again. what was his name?”

your eyes go wide and you try to hide the fact that you fucked this guy without ever learning his name, but tsukishima catches it instantly and starts cackling. “wow, who even are you?”

“we’ll come back next friday, yea? you’ll probably find him again and you guys can have a fun mystery hookup in the bathroom again,” akaashi half-reason, half-pokes fun and you nod. you hope he comes back too. maybe you’ll at least learn his name next time.

/\ /\ /\

despite the fact that you do not regret anything from last night (well, maybe the part where you didn’t get the number of an incredibly hot guy who fucked you in the bathroom of a club, but nothing else), the morning is still not well-recieved for you. you didn’t even drink that much last night, but the small amounts of alcohol and the severe lack of sleep have you waking up feeling like your bones are made of bricks and your head is filled with them.

you didn’t get home until nearly 3 in the morning and you didn’t pass out until well past 3. you can’t brush your teeth enough times and the water in the shower can’t be hot enough and no matter how much concealer you layer on, the bags under your eyes are still at least somewhat visible.

regret isn’t the right word per se, because you definitely don’t regret going out the night (morning?) before or staying out as long as you did, but you definitely are feeling the effects of your bad decisions come to life.

and on top of everything, you have to be presentable enough to go into work? that’s ridiculous.

** bffs + tsukishima **

< delivered / 8:04 am < alright who tf did this to me

> kuroo / 8:15 am > that guy last night lmao

< delivered / 8:25 am < i wish akaashi was up instead of u

> kuroo / 8:29 am > what time do you have to be in anyway?

< delivered / 8:30 am < omw now.

a deep breath is not enough to prepare you for a full day of work, but it has to do something, right? and taking six of them outside of the front doors of not only your job, but your first day at your new job is probably enough to compensate for the exhaustion and physical garbage that you’re feeling.

you push open the doors, fake smile plastered on your very tired face, apron draped over your forearm. “good morning,” you offer over the chime of the entrance bell. before you even step fully inside, you’re greeted with the same tired-veiled enthusiasm, voice so familiarly soft that his morning welcome sounds more like an opening hymn.

you walk towards the voice, but you don’t see anyone fully yet, only the top of a moving black cap behind the counter accompanied by shuffling papers and clanging pots. “just a sec, sorry,” he calls before standing up straight, rice cooker in his arms and he realizes it in the same immediate instant that you do.

gray eyes, still pretty but surprised now; gray hair no longer casually messy but neat under an onigiri embroidered dad cap; tight black shirt against his chest long-sleeved now; and he laughs, not because anything is funny, but because he doesn’t know how else to react at how impossible this situation is and yea it’s the exact same laugh that’s still living in your chest.

you’re sure you look like a deer in the headlight right now, because it’s certainly how you feel. you can’t really breathe, don’t know what to say, because, yes, this is, indeed, the man that you had sex with in a dirty club bathroom less than 8 hours ago.

you look down at his name tag, miya osamu. well, fuck, if only you’d have learned his name last night.

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

Text

Comparing You to Their Ex-Girlfriend

Featuring Osamu

Osamu Miya x Fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, arguing, under appreciation, mentions of ex’s, mentions of alcohol, Atsumu being the voice of reason 😵‍💫

AN: I’ve been wanting to continue this series for a while and I figured who better than our favorite Twin, Osamu 🥰

*Atsumu fans please don’t come for me, I adore him I promise 🥺

You and Osamu had been dating for a little over a year and what a year it’s been. Filled with tons of highs and equal lows, you and Osamu had navigated it all together.

When you’d first met Osamu, he had just opened his first Onigiri shop and things were hectic, but you somehow made it work. You’d visit him whenever you could, stop by to support his business and even stay late helping him clean up after close. You were the epitome of a perfect girlfriend and yet, sometimes it felt as if your good deeds went unnoticed.

You knew Osamu didn’t purposely ignore you, he was just busy being a business owner. The stresses of the early mornings and equally long days were hard on him. Still, you wished he’d occasionally throw a “thank you” or a “what would I do without you babe” your way. Nevertheless, you continued to thanklessly help your boyfriend whenever and wherever you could.

On one particularly busy Friday night, you swung by the shop to help Osamu close up, excited that he was leaving the shop in the care of his valued employees so you could spend so much needed quality time together. You pushed open the door, announcing your arrival as you did most everyday, only this time, you were not met with your usual chipper boyfriend.

“I’m here!” You shouted, the door sitting behind you as you placed your coat and purse on the coat rack besides the door, a welcome addition to the cozy little shop. The kitchen door slammed open as Osamu immediately started in on you.

“Dammit Yn you are so late! What took you so long? I’ve been cleaning all by myself!” He shouted as you looked at him, a bit taken aback by his hostile attitude.

“Geez Mr. Grumpy, I’m sorry I’m late but the train was packed, and I had to wait for the next one. I did text you,” you clarified, walking over to the counter as Osamu huffed and turned heading back into the kitchen as you followed.

“Well, I sent everyone home early because I assumed you were coming to help me, but I guess I shouldn’t have because I pretty much did everything myself,” he growled as you stood by the kitchen sink, eyes narrowed on your unusually hostile partner. He was never this mean, never this rude to you.

“Samu, I said I was sorry, ok? Geez it’s not like I don’t come and help you every day after I work a full 8 hours. I even take the train opposite my normal station just to be here to help,” you recalled, trying to keep your cool. Surely something had happened today to warrant this.

“You act like I’m forcing you to be here Yn! Like I’m making you help me out with my store!” Osamu exclaimed as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were done being patient and forgiving.

“I never said that Samu! I offer to help you and I’m always glad to help but you don’t need to yell at me especially when you can’t even spare a thank you half the time for all that I do for you!” You roared, pissed off that he seemed to be blaming you for the free help you offered him.

“Don’t act like you're such a saint Yn! You weren’t here through any of the hard stuff like Amy was! Now she was a real saint!” Osamu hissed as your eyes widened and you took a step back.

Amy was Osamu’s ex-girlfriend and someone you had always felt inferior too. When you had met Osamu, he had told you about how Amy had left him shortly after opening his restaurant, stating that he never had time for her. Osamu was a broken man when you met him, and you worked to help pick up the pieces. He worked long hours, sometimes 7 days a week just to avoid being alone. When you came into the picture, that all changed as you helped him manage his store and make time for himself, cherishing every small moment you had with him.

Tears welled in your eyes as you stood tall, your eyes locking with Osamu’s as you spoke, “Well if Amy’s such a saint, then why don’t you call her up and ask her to come help you close shop because I’m done!”

You pushed open the kitchen door, quickly moving to grab your purse and coat as you swiftly left Onigiri Miya. Osamu stood still as a statue, his mind flooded with guilt as the words he had spoken to you rang over and over in his mind. He snapped from his stunned state, running to the door as he made his way outside to try and catch you.

“YN!! YN!” He shouted, the streets flooded with people as he looked all around for you, only you weren’t answering him, you weren’t there.

You cried as you walked to the train station, your vision blurred from the mascara that flooded your eyes and cheeks. You sat down on the train, pulling your phone out and calling Atsumu.

Your relationship with Atsumu had been relatively strong since he visited his brother's restaurant often with his teammates. You valued Atsumu’s opinion no matter how idiotic it might be at times. The phone rang as you waited for the star setter to answer his phone.

“Hey YN, what’s up?” Atsumu cheered as your voice broke, and you started crying harder.

“A-Atsumu,” you agonized over the phone as the atmosphere of your phone call suddenly changed.

“YN! What the hell? Are you ok? Where’s Osamu?!” He shouted as you began crying harder, surely clearing the entire train car with your blubbering.

“I-I think Osamu is still in love with Amy!” You cried harder, a sigh escaping Atsumu before he spoke.

“Trouble in paradise? I always told you that you were too good for him Yn, but I’m confused, why do you think he’s still in love with that squealing pig? She left him!”

“He-he told me that I’m not as good as she was and that-that I’m not supportive like she w-was,” you responded, snot now running down your nose as you wiped it on your coat sleeve, not even caring how you looked.

“YN, Samu can be a jerk sometimes, trust me but he loves you. There’s no way he would go back to Amy after all the shit you do for him.”

“Well, he never acknowledges all the help I give him, nor does he ever say thank you!” You shouted back as Atsumu sighed again, rubbing his temple.

“Samu adores you YN and he always brags to me how you come after work to help him and how you stay super late just to make sure he gets out at a decent time. He really does appreciate you Yn,” Atsumu countered as you rolled your eyes, frowning angrily that Osamu bragged to everyone about how you helped him but yet never seemed able to spare a single word of appreciation.

“Yeah, well now he’s going to have to figure it out himself because I’m done! And don’t try to talk me out of it Atsumu, your brother is such a fucking asshole!”

“Hey Yn, you ain’t telling me anything new. I’ve been telling people he’s an asshole for 20 some years!”

You talked with Atsumu for a few more minutes before arriving at your home station. You bid him a farewell as you made your way home, swinging by the connivence store to grab booze and drink snacks to drown your sorrows.

Osamu locked up his shop, his mind elsewhere as he made his way back to his apartment. He had been on autopilot since you’d run out, the words he spoke continuously looping in his mind. How could he have said those things? He no longer harbored any feelings for Amy and hadn’t for a long time. He knew shortly after he met you that you were the one for him. You were just as devoted to his dream as he was, and you were always so happy to help him in any way you could.

His phone rang as he entered his apartment. He was hoping it was you but instead he was greeted by the annoying picture of his twin brother flashing on the screen.

“What?” Osamu growled, answering his phone as he heard a chuckle coming from the receiver.

“Messed up big time didn’t ya?” Atsumu laughed as Osamu grew more annoyed by the second.

“What the hell did you call for?” Osamu hissed back as Atsumu cleared his throat, his tone suddenly becoming serious.

“Just wondering how you're going to make it up to her. You really did it this time man. She called me completely heartbroken from the train station,” Atsumu responded as Osamu felt his chest tighten. Sure, he had felt like a jerk before but now he felt like a complete asshole.

“What do I do Sumu? I love her and I really fucked up this time. I brought up Amy which was a fucking low blow and I know it. Worst of all, YN is a million times more supportive than Amy ever was,” Osamu acknowledged, sitting on the stool at his kitchen counter.

“We’ll have you told Yn that?” Atsumu asked as Osamu played with a pen on the table.

“Told Yn what?”

“God you really are an idiot! And here everyone thought I was the stupid one! Have you told Yn how much you appreciate everything she does for you? How she comes after working all day to help you clean up? Or how she makes sure you get out at a decent time? Or even how she stands outside advertising your stupid new onigiri recipes that sometimes taste like absolute garbage?”

Osamu paused, looking up and staring at the picture of the two of you outside of Onigiri Miya. It was one of the first pictures you’d had taken together, and it was right after whirlwind sales day. His mind tried to recall all the times he had thanked you and all the things he had done to show his appreciation. His mind came up blank.

“Fuck! Fuck I haven’t even told her thank you once!” Osamu shouted, grabbing his keys and running from his apartment to the street below.

“Damn not even once Samu? And people say you’re the nice twin?”

“Shut up ya idiot!” Osamu snapped as Atsumu chuckled.

“Go make it up to your girl, ok? But remember who saved your relationship! I want an Onigiri named after me!”

Osamu ignore his brother as he quickly hung up the phone and ran to the station, tapping his feet as he waited for the train to arrive. Thankfully it wasn’t busy as he boarded and waited for your stop.

He ran from the train, booking it across the city as he made his way to your apartment. He took the steps two at a time as he pounded on your door, out of breath as he waited for your answer.

The door opened slightly, your eyes narrowing on his as you slammed the door right in his stupidly handsome face. Alright he definitely deserved that.

“YN please! Please baby- please just listen to me. I know you hate me, and you have every right too. I was a completely selfish jerk, and I said some awful things to you. I’ve taken advantage of all your help and kindness, and I haven’t even bothered to once acknowledge it. The truth is that you’ve done way more for me than anyone ever has, even Atsumu. You loved and supported me and never once complained about it,” he breathed out, tears welling in his eyes as he continues,” I know I don’t deserve you YN but please just know that I love you and I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.”

Behind the door, your eyes flooded with tears again as you listened to his words. You loved Osamu more than anything and while his words stung, you knew he said them out of anger. While it still didn’t make it right, he had come all this way to apologize so the least you could do was hear him out. You turned around, opening the door as you peeked at him, his beautiful eyes meeting yours.

“What you said hurt Samu. It gutted me when you brought her up,” you cried as Osamu deflated. He knew what he said stung. He hadn’t met for his anger to get out of control like that. He knew he had to fix this.

“I’m so incredibly sorry for bringing her up Yn. I don’t have any excuse for what I said. Amy never gave me what you give me. She never supported my dream like you do and that’s why I love you so much Yn. You’re it for me,” he whispered as your eyes again flooded with tears and you opened the door, pulling him into an embrace.

“I love you too Samu and I’ve only ever wanted to see you happy. I love helping you and I don’t need praise all the time but sometimes it would be nice,” you responded as he pulled you in right, holding you close as if you would disappear if he were to let go.

“I can do that Yn, I can definitely do that.”

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plutoccult · 2 months

Text

FINGER LICKIN’ YEAH WE COOKIN’ UP A SUPER BOWL

pairing: osamu miya x female reader

description: osamu wasn’t a fan of football nor parties. however, it is only you that could convince him to agree to atsumu’s shenanigans.

word count: 4.4k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: SURPRISE!!! i had intended to write for osamu before, but the idea instead went to another character. i never forgot about my foodie king though! plus, it’s super bowl sunday, so i HAD to put this out in enough time. the idea came last minute, so i was in a bit of a rush, but i managed! sorry if it seems rushed, i truly was trying my best to get this done in time. i also apologize if anyone seems ooc, i was honest to god trying my best. for timeline’s sake, i’d say the twins are 21 in this one shot, so not quite yet to the point where osamu has his own onigiri shop and atsumu is on the japan national team. anyway, happy super bowl sunday, and enjoy! (btw i totally named this after super bowl by stray kids)

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @dragon-slayer5 @femme-lune @darthferbert @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten @intheewrld

taglist form here

osamu wasn’t thrilled when his twin atsumu sprung the idea of having a super bowl party on him out of nowhere.

“they do it in america! it’s huge there!” his twin argued, detailing everything he knows about the tradition. sure, they do air the event in japan, but what was the point? an excuse to eat and drink? hangout with their buddies from both the past and present? actually, no. osamu figured out atsumu’s motive quickly; it was an excuse for osamu to cook a bunch of food.

there was no denying atsumu was clueless in the kitchen. if it were up to him to cook anything more complex than eggs and toast, he’d burn the whole place down. osamu was better off handling majority of anything food related. his brother was lucky he enjoyed the art of cooking.

“i’m not dealing with a stupid party, tsumu.” osamu crossed his arms in protest. there was no way he was going to deal with an inevitable mess. having to cook all the food and clean up the mess after? nope, no way. he refused to do it alone. luckily, his twin could figure that out quickly.

“ah, ah, ah. i knew you’d say that.” atsumu smirked. “y/n already told me she’d help you make the food.”

the mention of your name immediately perked up osamu. best friends since high school, it was blatantly obvious you had captured the shyer twin from the start, although—like with everyone else—he could easily assume you were more drawn to atsumu as he was always so unashamedly outspoken. everyone talked to atsumu more, but even so, you always treated the twins equally. mayhaps that is why he longed for you so much.

“y/n did?” osamu asked.

“and she’s bringing cake.” his brother added.

a woman after his own heart, really, and a foodie just like osamu. you always joked about opening a bakery next door once he finally opened up the onigiri shop he dreamed of. the goal was sometime next year, so maybe catering this party would be good practice. plus, it was a good excuse to be close to you like osamu craved.

“she is?” he questioned further. if his brother wasn’t kidding around, then maybe he’d feel more inclined to agree.

“you’re not gonna say no, right?” atsumu teased. osamu grunted in response, too stubborn to say anything, which atsumu recognized. it is only his twin who can easily detect his weakness; you.

“you’re such a sucker, osamu.” he chuckled. even if osamu were a sucker for you, he wouldn’t want to be one for anyone else. and it’s not like he’s totally clueless. he’d mess with his twin somehow.

“i’ll do it…“ osamu said before stating his only condition. “if you clean up the place afterwards.”

“what?!” atsumu gawked.

“it’s only fair, right?” osamu shrugged. two can play at that game. “i cook, you clean.”

unfortunately, atsumu had no choice but to suck it up. truth be told, he orchestrated you assisting with food preparations for the sake of getting you and osamu together alone. if he says no now, then his little secret wingman plan would be a waste, so atsumu had to accept his fate.

“pft, ass.” he huffed. atsumu should’ve known better than to try playing games with his brother, knowing he could easily match his game.

“just be lucky i agreed to your idiocy.” osamu scoffed.

“only because y/n is helping!” atsumu whined. while that may be true, osamu would probably never hear the end of it if he said no whether you were involved or not.

“did i hear only onigiri on the menu?” osamu joked, knowing that would irritate his twin to no end.

“osamu!”

truth be told, he couldn’t wait for sunday now.

•••

over the next few days, osamu had kept in almost constant communication with you over text discussing food options for the party. his signature onigiri was a must despite atsumu’s protest, but other options were in store thanks to your combined brainstorming. osamu couldn’t help but ask what kind of cake you’d bring, and was ultimately disappointed when you said it was a surprise with many winky emojis involved.

when sunday finally rolled around, osamu was more energized than usual. whether that be from excitement or nerves, who knew? atsumu’s plan was going in motion quite nicely and you hadn’t even arrived yet. he truly felt like a genius assisting in his brother’s quest for love.

osamu paced back and forth around the apartment in anticipation for your arrival. the kitchen was spotless, plus the fridge and cabinets were filled to the brim with everything needed for the party. on top of that, he put atsumu up to the task of decorating the place. knowing who would have to deal with cleaning up later was the greatest part of all.

once a knock on the door emerged, the two twins battled over who got to open the door, osamu ultimately losing as his brother elbowed him in the stomach and made a run for it. if there were a best sibling award, it was clear who wouldn’t win it.

“hello, miya twins! i’ve arrived!” you said upon entering the door, your arms occupied with bags, hopefully full of sweet treats.

“hey, y/n.” atsumu greeted you, beating osamu to it as he was still recovering from what occurred just moments ago.

you—already knowing your way around the place—set your bags down on the counter before instructing that they put its contents in the fridge as soon as possible. atsumu obliged despite wondering how he would play tetris with the fridge. but before he could figure out that puzzle, he received a quick hug from you as that was your typical greeting for the twins.

“y/n?” you turn around and see osamu standing a few feet away. he wanted to curse his brother for getting to say hi to you first, but once he saw that smile on your face, all anger towards atsumu faded away in an instant.

“ah, there you are!” you exclaim, rushing towards osamu and welcoming him with a big hug, one that lasted longer than the one you shared with atsumu. you held him tight, almost squeezing the life out of him as you pulled him from side to side. it didn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe, osamu was just happy to feel so welcomed by you.

“ready to cook up a super bowl?” you ask once you finally allowed osamu the ability to breathe. “i already made desserts in advance, so i can help with what you’ve got planned.”

“i could’ve helped with that…” osamu pouted. any more excuse to be around you was all he wanted, really. plus, he was curious to know your baking secrets. he always figured you were born a master.

“but that would ruin the surprise, silly.” you poke his arm. if it were his stomach, he might have folded over. thank god you were gentle.

as much as you wanted your desserts to remain a surprise until the party started, atsumu had to immediately ruin the fun for you. “there’s a cake shaped like a football.”

“atsumu!” you scold him. “ever heard of surprises, or has your brain become mush from too many volleyballs to the head?”

“yeah, yeah.” atsumu rolled his eyes. “i’ll leave you two to get started with everything. i trust you not to burn the place down.”

“only you would do that, tsumu.” you say. the way you teased atsumu was something osamu always loved about you. you were just as relentless as him, truly. besides, someone else besides osamu had to humble the ever-so-bold twin.

“exactly. later!” atsumu said before he left you and osamu alone in the kitchen.

osamu let out a sigh the moment his brother left the room. you immediately take notice, assuming he didn’t want to be doing this for atsumu. you hoped at the very least he enjoyed your presence today.

“i take it you’re doing all this against your will?” you question, curiosity getting to the best of you.

“not exactly…” osamu replied.

“well, i couldn’t really say no to him, so…” you shy away from the truth. it would be embarrassing if you were to admit to osamu why you agreed to this, but he was painfully oblivious, assuming it was all for his brother’s sake. not because you wanted to spend time with him and only him. it seemed you were both hiding your intentions.

“yeah, of course.” osamu frowned. it’s atsumu we’re talking about.

tension quickly filled the room. you sense the uncomfortable vibe instantly, wondering if you said something wrong. was it really something you said? you didn’t seem to think so. maybe getting things started in the kitchen for the party will help.

“shall we get started?” you ask hesitantly. “i was thinking we shape the onigiri into footballs. ya know, to fit the theme.”

osamu chuckled at your idea. at least you could see him smile now. he seemed to find it cute, but also funny how you wanted to make as many items on the menu football shaped as possible.

“i could try that.” he said, trying to hold back any more laughter. if osamu were to laugh any more, he was afraid you’d think he was making fun of your idea.

“cool, i’ll get started on the wings while you get started on that.” you say without skipping a beat, immediately grabbing ingredients like you knew this kitchen as if it were your own.

osamu didn’t seem to mind it this way with you around. he’d spend the whole day in the kitchen with you, even if all you did was sit on the counter and watch while he did all the work. but that’s not who you are, you refused to leave him to do everything. most importantly, you refused to let him feel alone.

soon enough, the kitchen grew quiet, the sounds of timers beeping and water running from the sink on occasion serving as background noise. you and osamu worked together in perfect harmony, like a well oiled machine. your chemistry oozed in the room and neither of you had to say a word to each other. it was easy for you two to figure out who did what most effiently. osamu could never do this with anyone else this way, you feeling the same way, although those thoughts remained unspoken.

the lack of chatter made atsumu worried. he had been trying to eavesdrop while he was supposed to be decorating, but found it to be too quiet for his liking. as atsumu tried to lean a little more, hoping to hear something worthwhile, he ended up tripping over an extension cord, blowing his cover as he tripped right into the kitchen.

atsumu’s sudden crash startled the both of you, osamu almost dropping the pot in his hands and you almost slicing your finger as you chopped an onion.

“atsumu!” you yell as you set your knife down. atsumu was lucky you didn’t decide to threateningly wave it around right now. “the hell are you doing?!”

“it got quiet, so i was getting worried…” he answered, slowly getting back to his feet as he feared for his life. would atsumu rather face his brother’s wrath or your wrath? both of you together may be the worst combination of all, really.

“what, worried that we disappeared and left you with all this food to cook?” you cross your arms. “osamu said you were decorating, and this doesn’t look like decorating to me.”

“i was taking a break?” atsumu shrugged. that was the worst answer in the world, even he could admit that.

“just go.” osamu let out a groan. it was bad enough that atsumu used you as a way to persuade him to cook for the party, but to eavesdrop on what you two were doing? what was he trying at here? as much as osamu was curious to know, he just wanted to get back to cooking with you without any worries.

“fine…” atsumu sighed, going back to the dreadful duty of decorating all by his lonesome. the sacrifices he’s made for the sake of his brother and the girl he’s loved for years. how tragic… not.

once atsumu left, you burst into laughter. osamu furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “what’s so funny?”

“oh, just the look on his face when he got caught.” you giggle.

“yeah…” he said. it was funny, osamu could admit that, but he feared that his twin had devious plans up his sleeve. who knows if he’ll make it through the end of the day with some sort of dignity left?

•••

hours later, atsumu’s teammates from the black jackals arrived for the party. osamu was acquainted with some of them—most definitely more than acquainted with a certain pipsqueak named shoyo hinata—but he was more looking forward to seeing some of his teammates from high school, especially aran and kita. he would talk to suna, but the poor guy looked like he wanted to leave more than anything.

you seemed quite occupied at the moment, mostly due to bokuto talking your ear off about how delicious the cookies you made were. you were more than aware of his loud personality, but seeing it up close was far different than just watching him play on the court. at least you knew it wasn’t for show during matches.

osamu considered being your knight in shining armor by finding an excuse to steal you away, but he feared facing the embarrassment of his friends who wouldn’t hesitate to tease him. even if you looked at him with pleading eyes, he still hesitated. if only osamu had the guts to be a little brave for once, not standing in the shadows.

“samu…” atsumu called for him. osamu turned his attention away from watching you to see what his brother wanted, although a little annoyed.

“hm?”

“we’re out of rice. can you make more?” he asked.

osamu blinked a few times, unsure if he actually heard that correctly. “we’re… out?”

“kita ate it all up.” atsumu said.

“really?” osamu groaned. he didn’t even want to think of the logistics of his former captain eating so much rice so quickly. “grow your own rice or something, man.”

“maybe i will…” kita replied calmly, now pondering over the thought of becoming a rice farmer. it didn’t seem so bad, actually. unfortunately, the rice couldn’t just grow and magically appear already cooked. osamu wished it worked that way.

“i’ll go make more.” osamu sighed. “call for me when it’s halftime.”

once he left to head to the kitchen, you watched as he walked away, tempted to follow. maybe if you found an excuse to leave the room, like go get a drink or go to the bathroom or something. that oughta work, right?

“hey, bokuto?” you stop him mid sentence as he was still going on about your baking. “i gotta go to the bathroom. i’ll be back, okay?”

“don’t forget to give me your cookie recipe!” bokuto exclaimed as you left the living room.

atsumu raised an eyebrow upon your sudden exit, a smirk creeping up on his face soon following once he put the pieces together. “she’s not going to the bathroom…”

you find osamu already cooking, the rice cooker at work while he prepared more rice to be cooked just incase. he’d rather be safe than sorry now. osamu didn’t notice you walk in at first, but your presence became apparent soon enough once you tapped him on the shoulder.

“man, you scared me.” he chuckled, you also sharing a laugh with him. “you don’t have to help me. i’ve got this.”

“what, want some practice for when you finally open up that restaurant?” you question. osamu furrowed his eyebrows, asking “huh?” until you explained what you meant. “onigiri miya. i’ve been waiting.”

“oh, right…” osamu said, almost forgetting that little dream of his. “that.”

“well, when is it finally gonna happen?” you ask. he had talked about it for so long, and you always waited for the day it’d finally come to fruition. you probably believed in him more than he’s ever believed in himself, honestly.

“mmm, i don’t know.” he replied shyly. “next year would be nice, but there’s so many things to think about.”

“wait, really? why didn’t you tell me?!” you gasp, shocked he’d hide such an important detail from you.

“it’s just, uh, kinda scary when you admit it out loud.” osamu said. his dream of opening up his own restaurant was as scary as trying to admit the truth of his feelings. dreaming is one thing, but trying to make it a reality was another.

“samu, you know you can do it! i’ve always believed in you!” you admit, taking osamu by surprise despite how confident you always spoke about him.

“you have?”

“yes!” you say without hesitation. “from the day i met you.”

“wow, thank you…” osamu blushed. you get lost in each other’s eyes, although osamu wondered if it’s just in his imagination that you’re staring at him so intently. suddenly, the moment was ruined.

“hey, do you smell something burning?” you question as you try to sniff out the strange smell. osamu figured it out immediately, knowing it was the rice everyone was waiting on.

“the rice!” he exclaimed, rushing to the rice cooker. “i put the rice cooker on high so it’d get done faster…”

“aw, no!” you say. “is it salvageable?”

“no…” osamu sighed, looking down at the damage. “if anything, it’s a sign i shouldn’t have my own restaurant.”

to him, this was stupid. if he doesn’t do everything perfectly, then what’s the point? it seemed to silly to immediately think the worst, that this was a sign of imminent failure. osamu was good at keeping that competitive perfectionist part of him hidden to most, always making it seem like he just gets everything right the first time, but only you can see that he has flaws. at the end of the day, you continue to be his weakness, but that doesn’t mean you don’t make him feel strong.

“hey, hey, hey.” you grab his arm, a jolt coming from osamu by your sudden touch. “you overcook rice one time and all of the sudden your dream is dead? chefs mess up all the time. you’re human, you know. i think you’ve forgotten that.”

“but—”

“i mean, come on. you think i just magically knew how to make a cake one day?” you ask jokingly. even if you meant for the question to be a silly one, osamu took it quite literally.

“honestly? yeah. the first time you brought cake to school for me and sumu’s birthday was the best thing i ever tasted.” he said, recalling your first year of high school together. you hadn’t been friends with the twins for that long at that point, but you decided to surprise them with a cake for their birthday as it fell on a school day. like osamu said, it was the best thing he ever tasted. he felt like he found his future wife in that moment.

“samu, i spent all night making like five different cakes cause i kept messing them up.” you confess. it was a secret you carried for years, shocked you never said anything before, but only just now having the guts to say it. even so, osamu couldn’t believe it to be true. he always swore your skills came to you like second nature. how come he never knew before? you were very good at hiding things, it seemed.

“you did? why?” he asked.

“because…” you hesitate. might as well fess up, you suppose. “i really wanted you to like it.”

“me and tsumu?” osamu questioned. what an idiot.

you shake your head, almost tempted to laugh over how blind he was to what you were trying to say. part of you was a little frustrated, but you wouldn’t let that get to the best of you. “you really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

“i guess i am…” he replied, unsure of what else to say.

you let out a sigh. should you say it? the whole truth? you didn’t know it, but you were in the same boat as osamu. you did this for each other without even realizing it. it is you, however, who will be brave enough to admit such a truth. no going back now after you’ve already admitted so much.

“i only agreed to helping with this party because atsumu knew i wanted an excuse to be close to you.” you tell him, looking away. osamu swore you looked ashamed to say those words out loud, but even so, the truth shocked him to the very core.

“he… what?”

when you grant yourself the guts to look him in the eye once more, the look on his face made you think you shouldn’t have said anything. but osamu wanted to scream, scream about how long he liked you and how he never thought he’d see this day. he didn’t know if the universe planted the seeds for this very moment, but he couldn’t let it slip away. not when you believed in him like it was breathing.

“nothing. don’t worry about it.” you shake your head. “i’ll help you restart the rice. hungry people waiting.”

“no.” osamu stopped you. you freeze in your tracks, waiting for what else he had to say. “forget the rice.”

“huh—”

“why do you think i told tsumu i’d help with this party?” he asked. you’re at a loss for words, unsure of what to say. it is usually you who stood tall, but osamu took your place, taking charge for the sake of making sure you knew the truth. “i said i would because he told me you were coming here. he knew you were the only thing that’d get me to say yes. called me a sucker and everything.”

your cheeks flush, a smile creeping up on your face as the realization of osamu’s mutuals feelings hit you. “guess i’m a sucker too.”

osamu let out a sigh of relief, overcome with joy as he couldn’t control his grin. with that look on your face, he almost wanted to kiss you right then and there. should he kiss you right now? no, osamu should ask permission first. couldn’t be too confident, right? or were you trying to say something with your eyes? god, osamu didn’t have a clue on what to do.

“can you two please just kiss already so i can get back to the party?”

you and osamu share a gasp. it was atsumu, no doubt about it. that bitch, you both think to yourselves. was he eavesdropping on that whole conservation? pause. now they both knew atsumu did all of this on purpose. he had a lot of explaining to do, that’s for sure.

without having to speak a word, you and osamu find atsumu in the hallway, both tugging him by his shirt and pulling him to the ground. your combined anger undoubtedly scared the shit out of him.

“you!” you grab the collar of atsumu’s shirt. “you set this all up!”

“i bet you don’t even like football!” osamu yelled.

“yeah!” you say in agreement without thinking.

“hey, i’m innocent, your honor! innocent!” atsumu raised his hands up in the air, squeezing his eyes shut as he anticipated one of you to start hitting him.

“no wonder you agreed to clean if i cooked!” osamu exclaimed.

“he agreed to clean?!“ you loudly gasp. funnily enough, that was the most shocking thing you’ve heard all day.

“listen to me, okay?!” atsumu forced your hand away from his collar. you take a step back and give him the chance to speak, although you were more than prepared to start swinging if need be. “i just really wanted you two to stop being wusses about your feelings. now you both know, all thanks to me.”

you and osamu soften up. even if it seemed a tad bit manipulative, neither of you could deny that it was actually kind of… sweet? all that cooking was a pain in the ass, but it brought you together and pushed you to admit your truths.

“i really do like you, osamu.” you say, looking into osamu’s eyes, not wavering for a second. there was no need for either of you to hide anymore. “since the day we met.”

“me too.” osamu replied, the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen plastered on his face.

“i sense a super emotional moment—” atsumu tried to say in the midst of his escape attempt. however, you grab him by the wrist, almost pulling his arm by his socket. “ow!”

“come here.” you pull him in for a hug, osamu too, practically squeezing the two to death. “you’re a pain, but thank you, atsumu.”

“can i go now?” he asked, trying his best to writhe out of your grasp. you were strong, atsumu couldn’t deny that.

“yeah, yeah. get outta here.” you scoff as you let him free.

atsumu mumbled some words over how it was “about damn time” on his way out, which sent you and osamu into a fit of giggles. once the laughter died down, reality set in. now both you knew that you liked each other, so what now? what else was there to do?

“so…”

“so..?”

“you think they’re all still waiting on that rice?” you ask awkwardly.

that was the last thing osamu cared about in this moment, truly. he waited so long for this, never thinking there ever was a chance. dare he ask you to pinch him would seem silly now. all he wanted to do now was finally kiss you without hesitating.

“oh, screw the rice.” osamu said, grabbing your hand as he pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. your hand that clasped his rested over his chest, his heartbeat thumping against your touch. has his heart always beat this fast in your presence for all this time, you couldn’t help but wonder. it was safe to say no one was getting their rice now, but neither of you gave a damn.

meanwhile, in the living room, atsumu finally returned, although with an irritated look on his face. he sat down in between bokuto and hinata, who were both curious about the food.

“hey, how’s the rice going—” hinata began to ask before being quickly cut off by atsumu.

“just watch the stupid game.”

#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyu x female reader #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu x female reader #osamu miya x female reader #osamu x female reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #pluto writes 📝#gif divider by cafekitsune

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sim-patelle · 6 months

Text

"you're so beautiful.."

Osamu x fem!reader ¶smut/nsfw¶

MDNI!

content warnings: praising "Angel", light bondage, mirror(you know what I mean), taking you rough, oral, p in v, overstimulation, mentioned aftercare. (timeskip Osamu ofc)

Word count: 2.1k

____________________________________

Bedroom. You look into the mirror, seeing your reflection. Just in your underwear, your dark purple bra and matching underwear. You move a bit around, a bit posing and looking at your body with a frowning face. You certainly don't like the image of yourself, standing just in your underwear.

While you scan your whole body, you see in the reflection that Osamu comes from behind. He nearly scans your whole body from behind, knowing that this is his view forever now. He slowly wraps his arms around your shoulder, closing his arms infront of you. He now admires your front body in the reflection you both share. You still look a bit displeasured at your body, touching your hips lightly and scanning your chest.

He leans his head on your shoulder.

"what is it, angel?" he mumbles light, following your moves with his eyes.

"I don't think that I'm happy with my own image..." you say, with a pause. "I'm not pretty.." you say with hesitation, knowing that he doesn't like that, hearing you being unhappy with yourself.

"Hey..." he mumbles, looking at your underwear. You hum, waiting for an answer.

"You are the most prettiest girl to me, angel." he says and gives you a kiss on your shoulder. "You just say that now to hype me up" you respond, hanging your arms next to your body.

"I.. " he moves the right string of your bra to the side. ".. saw every inch of your body" he continues, moving the left string down your shoulder. Osamu places his hands on your waist, lightly stroking your lower back. "I know you better than you do.. " he pulls one string of the tanga and it snips back af your waist, you lightly twitch because of it. "...and no one could fit more to me than you" he flips down your bra, your upper body exposed in the reflection. "If you know what I mean angel, or do I have to remind you?" 'Samus hands move to your breasts, holding them and you see a light joy on his face in the reflection. He slowly moves his hands, which he enjoys seeing you slowly getting warmer, breathing in and out more clearer. He likes seeing your body move in the reflection, only because of his doings.

"I like how you react with your body, and that makes it incredible to watch it.." he whispers a bit, kissing your neck and caressing your breasts. "the body I watch in this reflection is perfect as the way it is.." he mumbles against your neck, lightly biting into it. He knows your spots too good now, and he is exited to make use of them.

".. And don't you dare say otherwise now" you watch his doings desperately in the reflection of the mirror, following his hands with your sight. His left hand wanders around your stomach, slowly, his fingers tracing over your body. As his hand wanders to your back, you feel him opening your bra completely, falling down to the ground.

He traces his hand down your spine and you move your chest up, lightly holding your breath of that shiver he gave you. His light cold hand of his, not watchable but feeling every movement of it, gives you the tickle in your stomach you needed. He took the opportunity that you moved you body up, holding your jaw up, that you still can look at yourself in the mirror, and with his other hand touching your lower stomach.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror. They show some deep care but you feel the unbearable gaze from him, which tells that he is ready for you. 'Samu presses your body against his and you feel the bulge of his, against your arse. As he was aware of what you will do, he speaks up with a slight of a command. "you won't move away now. I want to see you in that mirror all the time" His voice echoing in your head makes you feel dizzy, your legs are calming down and you open them a bit. 'Samu was aware of what that would mean.

He places his kiss on your throat and his voice mumbling against it, gives a vibration to your whole body.

"Don't you dare move" he mumbles and he quickly gets something from the bedside table. You stand infront of the mirror, already turned on by his little doings, awaiting something. You see from the mirror, that he grabs a black tie, slowly coming to you again.

"what will you do..?" you say with a bit of lust he can't unhear. He doesn't respond, but it doesn't take long to catch up his intention. You were always wondering why there was a hook over the mirror, placed in the upper middle. It got his use now.

You wanted to stop him, not from his doings, but wanting to treat him right also. As 'Samu told you to turn around for a short time, you grabbed the ending of his plain shirt and pulled it over his head, now exposing his upper body.

You are used to him now but it always is a pleasure to see the one scar you gave him as you were riding him hard one time. A long nail scratch, that didn't heal good enough. You kiss his chest, looking up to his face.

He was slightly surprised but that doesn't stop him from tying your wrists together. For the time, he just looked into your eyes, that scream lust and wanting pleasure.

"you sure are needy for me" you say and chuckle lightly against his ear, giving him an electric shock, while he still ties you up.

" So you do know you're pretty? I'm still gonna fuck you" he hisses in your ear, which makes you feel weak for him, weak but ready.

'Samu turned you to the mirror, admiring your body once again with a smirk on his face, before you would turn into a mess.

He hangs your tied wrists on the hook over the mirror, unable to move because of the height of the hook, forced to look in the mirror. You see Osamu touching your back, following the moves of his hand as he walks next to you.

He squats down, right infront of your pussy. You are used to seeing his face all the time, and it's a shame to just see his back of his head, but as he pulls down your tanga, he breathes against your clit, giving you shivers. You hiss light as he does that and you could hear a light chuckle from him, as he is happy teasing you like that.

You see him placing his hands on your waist, and feel a bite on your inner thigh, following with suppressing your moan by biting your lip. He places some kisses around your pussy, still admiring your body, especially there. You couldn't bear the waiting, and the near little jumps you got, the more he got near your clit.

" 'Samu please..." you say, not able to continue your sentence because you were interrupted by a strong huff of yours as he starts to lick your cunt. Slightly sucking on your clit and moving his tongue to pleasure you deeply. Unable to stop, you grunt by every chill he got you. You couldn't even caress your breast while he licks you out, the tickle getting stronger in your lower stomach.

You breathe out loud huffs, close to finishing. " ugh... 'Samu I'm close-!" you say under your breath. As teasing as he is, he immediately stops and the desperate need to cum right this second, dissappears under your last heavy breaths. It feels uncomfortable, not doing anything because of it, but you would be filled up right after it.

Osamu stands up, and walks behind you. From behind he leans forward, to grab your tits once again, feeling so good in his hands. You were already so aroused, that you whole body starts to react to any of his touches, but as you felt his bulge on your ass again while he leaned forward, your cunt was clenching for it. You could see yourself in the mirror and his devadating gaze from 'Samu.

He moves his hands again, stopping you from cumming right away and you just hear the sound of his belt opening up.You couldn't see anything that would happen, just yourself with those slutty face of yours, that screams neediness.

Used to a view of him entering your wet cunt, you couldn't think now of anything that wasn't his cock inside you, wanting it desperately.

" 'Samu when do you- AH!" Just as he touched your waist, he immediately fills you up with his cock and you couldn't suppress a scream of him entering you fast, stretching you once again. "fuck- you are really needy for me, so warm-" he mumbles against your ear. Grunting soft.

He could quickly find a pace he was comfortable with, but as you were there, a bit of hanging on the hook and arching your back, you feel him filling you more and more. You wanted to close your eyes, just filling the rooms with your moans, but as 'samu noticed, he grabbed your jaw, showing you of what a mess you are for him.

"look how pretty of a mess you are for me" he grunts in your ear, you see yourself, mouth half open, moaning out sweet nothings, hair messy and moving in the pace of 'Samus thrusts.

"ugh...my sweet angel-" he tells you once again under his breath.

Your pussy is swallowing his dick and you feel the orgasm in your abdomen close to spilling out.

"'samu I'm going to- cum-! Ah! Fuuuck-!" you scream out of your mouth while he bit into your shoulder, giving you a visible hickey.

You were ready to cum right this second, but he got the stamina to fuck you all night long.

Filling the room with your moanings and the sound of your skins clapping against each other, the mirror fogs up because of your heavy breathings and your orgasm close is freaking you out.

Finally you couldn't endure it and came with lustful noises you screamed out, 'Samu fucking you through your orgasm, slowly dripping down your leg. You pushed your arse against his cock. Osamu held your face once again, forcing to look into the mirror again to see you dripping down under him.

Tired of the heavy orgasm you have, you smile light at the sight of you having Osamu only for you, filling you up, still moving your whole body while you couldn't even hold yourself anymore. Seeing your slight shaky legs that he got you is quite a view, even to you. A slight smile of yours meet the eager face of his in the mirror, but you couldn't hold you head up anymore.

As a mess you were, your second orgasm build up over the stimulation that was too much. To hear your moans a little louder, Samu moved his hand to your clit, rubbing against it with a speed.

You could just scream your overstimulation out, and shout. He loved taking your voice away.

As your voice cracked, you were just able to whisper under those claps of your skins and the sound of your pussy dripping out once again. "s-samu....please.. It's too much-" you said under a whisper, unable to move your body on your own. Only the tie and the hands of Osamu hold you now, your body so weak of the rough sex, that you don't notice the third orgasm crushing out of you.

Osamu is aware of all that, fucking you until you couldn't speak or walk. That's what he likes, to see you as a filthy pretty mess under him. His last moves got sloppy, getting him to his nerves. His little grunts got louder as he was about to cum just of your pretty cunt. "God fuck you got tighter-" he moans with a deep voice, those spinning around the room.

Close to spilling out his cum in you, he pulled his dick out harsh, which let's you scream of pain again, him moving the lasts moves he needed with his hands and he lets out a last moan next to your ear.

His cum landing on your back, him having a blast of it and hisses harsh as he does.

Enjoying the view of you naked and a mess, full of his cum and almost passing out, he controls his breath slowly.

Your arms are tired of holding your weight and Osamu finally gets your wrists out of that hook and tie, your body almost falling down to the ground, but he catches you before you could.

Some minutes later, Samu helped you get up and into the bath, getting some rest in the bathtub, as you both sit in it now.

He even massages your shoulders now, because of the pain you had to endure the time you hang there. Slowly getting into comfort again...

#miya osamu #haikyuu smut #osamu x reader #inarizaki #haikyuu x reader #suna rintaro x reader #smut #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #osamu x female reader #osamu smut

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zzztobi · 1 year

Text

osamu x fem!reader hehehe i'm kind of back :p

there's nothing that turns osamu on more than your cute face. he swears you're the prettiest girl to walk on this earth and the poor boy has to relieve that infatuation for you somehow.

he loves jerking off to the thought of you, like literally just you. his cute classmate that sits down next to him in every class, that shares her notes with him when he gets a bit lost during the lesson, and the one that wears those pretty outfits that make him go crazy.

he promises everytime that this would be the last time to touch himself thinking about you. he feels really bad about it after but he can't control himself or his dick when he's around you. there's no way you don't notice the way he tries to cover the bulge on his pants when your hand grazes his or when you look at him with doe eyes.

but he does it anyway. osamu glides his fist up and down slow at first, watching the precum fall down his dick. oh how much he wish it was your tongue lapping at it instead of his fingers. then he thinks about how good you would feel under him, wet and warm pussy sucking him in, and my man is lost.

his pace would increase imagining the sounds you would make, the way your tits would bounce with every one of his thrusts or how your eyes would roll back when he hits tHAT spot. yep, that's all it takes for him to cum while moaning your name. hot and thick cum dripping down his cock. he thinks it's such a waste, that it should be swallowed by you instead of being on his hand. that it should be inside you, making you feel so full that it drips out of your abused hole. but mostly, that it should be splayed on your face, smearing it with his tip.

osamu's feels so bad for thinking of you like this that he can't look at you in the eyes for 3 days after, every. single. time.

#smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyu smut #osamu smut #osamu miya #[📁 andrea writes]#haikyu!!#haikyuu #osamu x female reader

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p-antomime · 2 years

Note

KIKI MY LOVE ❤❤! What's ur thoughts about atepdad!Osamu and Uncle!Atsumu?

nonnie you're a one, and i have a few thoughts about they both so, listen, listen carefully.

୧ : tw.: stepcest, hints of voyeurism, breeding!kink, threesome, age gap.

oh, stepdad!osamu & uncle!atsumu.

osamu would be very affectionate and would even try to be a "father" in the sense of providing security and being present even for some things that were very silly to him, but for you would be very important — he could tell how important they were by the way your eyes sparkled and a wide smile appeared on your face when you talked about them. however, osamu wouldn't know how to handle the day that you would meet his brother because he thought that atsumu would still be a little immature, even though he was much older than before, and this would result in: a family lunch in which osamu felt the need to stare and analyze the way his brother acted, just to make sure that you were comfortable, that his brother wouldn't talk or do something impertinent.

or he, your stepfather, thought so. until he felt strangely uncomfortable with the way atsumu took too long for his liking in the goodbye hug you exchanged at the door of the house.

after that day, stepdad!osamu has become a little more secretive about the boys in your life. crush at college? osamu wants his name and wants to know what he does for a living. crush at the bus or the subway? osamu wants to know, too, and will pray to god that you don't run into him more often when you come home from college. someone who has picked up your phone on the street? osamu will walk out with you more often, with his arm around your shoulders, so that everyone think you are just a couple with a bit of an age difference.

before you could even realize it properly, stepdad!osamu would be running his eyes down your exposed thighs through your pajama shorts for seconds too long. and in almost every shower his hand would be around his cock pumping it not only while he fantasizes about your palm there, but also imagines how much tighter your pussy would be. he needed the real thing, as time went by his hand wouldn't be enough and neither would any other woman's holes.

he just didn't know that your favorite uncle texted you almost every day, atsumu liked you. not like osamu did, yet, but did! he would constantly be walking around the city and when he found something you liked, he would think about buying it for you and would definitely deliver the gift as soon as possible.

and then atsumu would find himself needing to put out of his mind your smile & face when he was alone, at night, under the sheets.

while it was a torture for your uncle to spend days trying to control himself and convince himself that it was no big deal, it was all too easy for your stepdad to put his hands on you when it was just the two of you alone. it started with just the typical caresses he left on your shoulders every day, it didn't seem like a big deal because you were already used to it, and then osamu started purposely wanting to help you a little more with the housework, coming up behind you and maybe unintentionally letting his cock and pelvis rub against your ass; you could feel it underneath the shorts, even the underwear. you could feel him underneath all of that, but you didn't allow yourself to feel him filling you up inside because it was so wrong that you were disgusted with yourself.

and it got worse when your stepfather gave you an adorable smile after whispering that he loved you and leaving a little kiss on your forehead before you went to bed.

it was on one of those nights that he stayed up late without knowing that you had also stayed up late. you intended to get off alone, without help, he intended to slide into your room and fuck you with your face smothered in pillows so as not to make too much noise. and your mistake was to use headphones when your slid a hand into your pajamas to play with your sensitive clit. it was too obvious the skin change between your delicate fingers and his touching your pussy and you didn't even think to close your legs; it was the only sign osamu needed to know that you were a slut for your stepfather and had always been there to be used until your holes were leaking with his thick, sticky cum.

unfortunately, not for you, it turned out to be a routine. osamu would spend the whole day just waiting for night to come so he could eat you out like he hadn't eaten in days, so he could hold you by the waist while fucking you so hard until he left little fingerprints on your skin.

it was on one of these "fun" nights, one when your mother had to stay late at work, that atsumu thought it would be nice to give you one of the gifts he bought during the week — and osamu didn't remember that he had given him a copy of the house keys, in case of an emergency.

and atsumu knew very well how your moans would sound, he had fantasized about them several times. even so, the most obvious choice was to lock the door, go up the stairs in silence and slowly go in search of the ajar door that hid you and your stepdad with fingers knucles-deep inside your pussy, the loud wet sounds of kissing and your entrance being stretched made both of their dicks painfully hard.

the door opened, you immediately tried to pull away from osamu and his brother let out a mocking laugh before he finished entering, closed the door and spoke, "never thought you were the type to ever fuck your stepdaughter, brother."

osamu's eyes fell between his brother's legs and the response came quickly, "you say it as if you weren't the one being so horny over us, atsumu."

you could barely think, your stepfather's fingers kept thrusting and rubbing your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you melt and whimper. and atsumu preferred to just move closer in silence, each time getting a better look at the way your tight hole clenched around his brother's digits with no intention of letting them go.

"Can I?"

"Just wait— a second, hold on," osamu spoke curving his fingers once again and hitting your sweetest spot.

you couldn't hold on and in a matter of seconds your body was shaking, your pussy was squirting and making a mess, and your eyes were locked on atsumu's. you could feel how much he wanted to touch you just by the way his eyes were eating you, dripping with desire and need.

Your high took long seconds to disappear and your stepfather pulled you against his body, leaving you leaning against his chest with legs spread and your pussy on display still dripping, "Shh, sweetie, it was good, wasn't it? I could feel you throbbing a lot, needin' a break, hm?"

atsumu knelt exactly between your legs and you tried to close them, to which osamu held them open with one hand and spoke again, "Keep them open for him, yeah? He's goin' to treat you so well, don't you trust your family?"

and all you could do was nod the head in agreement, completely out of breath and with your legs still trembling. your stepdad's brother smiled sideways and planted a kiss on your belly, his fingers ghosting up the inside of your thighs and his eyes glued on yours.

"don't worry, angel, your daddy is here, your uncle 'Tsumu is here, nothing to fear, right?"

atsumu asked rhetorically and immediately, before you or osamu could answer, slid his mouth to eat you out almost as well as he did.

it was a pity that his tasting your sweet pussy didn't last long: neither of those two men was very willing to spend any more time without making you feel a cock from inside, which means that double breeding is coming right the way and the neighbors would think you had got a new boyfriend.

— haikyū masterlist.

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natriae · 1 year

Note

nsfw D, E, M with osamu pleasee!!

yay! my first ask for the event<33

Miya Osamu NSFW alphabet

(included both if you have a vagina or penis)

D: Dirty Secret

He would love to make people watch. Like Sunarin (that smug ass). Mainly because he wants to shove in his face how hot his partner is. He wants nothing more then to spread out your pussy lips and show him just how wet you get but NEVER let him touch. And if you have a penis he wants to jerk you off in front of someone and show just how whiny you get. He wants Suna or really anyone to watch you squirt all over his strong arms just from fingering you, or wants someone to see just how quickly he came make you cum with his skilled hands.

E: Experience (how experienced are they)

i completly headcanons that Osamu has some experience with sex before he met you, but not a lot. He knew the basics, but he took a lot of time getting to know your body and just what makes you cum. Definitely a giver not a reciever.

M: Motivation (what gets them turned on)

there are many things that turn him on, but he never out right says it. One of his biggest turn ons is when you start talking back. One late night on face time you and Sunarin kept arguing. In the end you called Suna a lot of word like dumbass, ect. And Osamu was so turned on over this. Everytime he watched you take a deep breath and then absolutely destroy is childhood best friend with just words he swore this could be a record with how fast his dick popped up. Safe to say that facetime call ended so after, and your face was being shoved into the couch.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#miya osamu #osamu headcanons #osamu smut #osamu imagine #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader smut #osamu x y/n #haikyuu smut #osamu miya #osamu x male reader #osamu x female reader

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aveegrex · 2 years

Text

MERMAN OSAMU X READER (PART 2)

PART 1 | PART 2 kinktober masterlist

pairing: merman!osamu x reader genre: fluff, smut word count: 2,2k cw: fingering, oral (f!receiving), penetration (f!receiving), a little bit of swearing, heated makeouts, two-dick osamu, virginity loss, somewhat underwater sex, mentions of atsumu and his lovelife. author's note: again, thank you @flycloudddd for your amazing artwork. give her love, my dear reader, and hope y'all enjoy this one too.

“you… you have two?”

osamu’s been persistent. for the past few weeks, he’s been coming to your house every single night. you’ve even learned to detect his presence by the distinctive splash his tail made when he romantically leaned on the pier to watch you run down the porch.

he managed to catch you first on the third night after he shyly introduced himself. blushing and stern, he presented you with the damned ring, membraned hands so careful when placing it on your lap.

on the fifth night, he learnt your name, and for a while it became his “yes”. until he memorised the real thing, that is.

you first heard him speak his language when you slipped on the wet spot, almost hitting your head as you not so gracefully fell into the water. tiny chirps and coos, fused with some very indecent (as you later learned) clicks, and you were caught bridal-style, worry and shock splaying in his eyes right above the blooming cheeks.

by week four, you managed to teach him a good hundred of words, yet he was shy, skittish even when using them, usually opting to listening to you talk instead. he’d only utter a couple of timid phrases when your sleepy eyes fixated on his fin, glimmering under moonlight with soft undertones of gold and aquamarine. a whine about tsumu and his new boyfriend making too much noise, or a babble about how good jellyfish paired up with nori, and sometimes a reluctant question on human habits - he walked in babysteps, but his ears always betrayed him, fluttering under praise.

once, he turned up wearing a thin silver band around his head. unable to keep his wide grin away, he chirped about how atsumu is finally married and moving to the neighboring reef to annoy someone else with his loud mating. you, on the other hand, were too baffled by the absolutely ethereal look of a prince-like samu, and effectively shut him up with a clumsy rushed kiss.

after that, things progressed pretty quickly. a few broken words for the sake of manners, and you two hid in the adjacent cove, lips chasing lips, hands chasing waists and necks to bring the two of you closer and closer. sleepless, you returned home by the dawn, perfecting the way you opened the door to avoid its creaks and squeaks. lovelorn, he swam back to his cave, counting hours till he’d feel your lips mapping out his neck and chest next time.

he probably even forgot some words, but surely learnt a few new ones, worse ones, but these were way better to huff in the midst of swallowing your moans.

your moans, oh, those drove him wild. now the grudge he held against atsumu died down a bit. the moans were the best part, falling from your lips each time his tongue twirled sweetly just above your collarbone. the moans that he bathed in as you were grinding on his tail, placing open mouth kisses up his jaw.

the moans that you let out when his hand accidentally brushed between your thighs. it was so hot there, and so alluring, yet for some reason he felt like he broke some sort of rule by letting his hand there. he glared at you, timid and bewitched, till you pulled his hand back and pushed it under the soft fabric, eyes rolling back the moment his fingers met your slick.

that night he learned that humans love getting wet too.

entranced, he watched as you pushed your panties off and moved his fingers to your liking, snaking them inside just to pull out a second later and circle them around a tiny sensitive bud. the noises you made that night, oh, samu couldn’t forget them to save his own life, imagining them as he humped the pitiful anemone later that day, lips pressed tight as his seed spilled out and your name blazed across his mind.

just as it was with vocabulary, samu picked up on things quickly. soon enough, his skillful fingers were plunging in and out of you by the end of your every date, lips latched to your neck to drink the whines straight from the source. he was a little freak even, shyly suggesting that he’d use his tail, and succeeding with flying colors as gentle tissue of the fin rubbed so deliciously across your weeping folds, working you through the nth orgasm of the night.

being a curious little foodie, samu wanted to have a taste as well, and that was another way for him to fixate on you. he was drunk and hungry, head almost immediately diving between your thighs as you nestled on the stones beside him. strong hands holding your legs apart, little fins fluttering each time another wave of arousal hit him, he lapped and licked and suckled, swallowing all your generous cunt could give. he wouldn’t even stop after you’ve cum twice, his mind hazy of how good the human essence tasted. of how good you tasted, and how feral he felt when your hands clutched onto his damp hair, pressing him into the best place there was above and under water.

his adventurous side finally kicked in when once, caught up in the act, you two didn’t notice you were slowly sliding down into the sea and he ended up overstimulating you completely submerged.

although, osamu never really asked you to return the favor. you weren’t even sure how that was supposed to go, given there were no body parts visible to do so. night after night he’d make you the happiest girl alive, blessing your lips and neck with the most erotic kisses and then tending to your lower needs, but never uttered a single word about his own pleasure.

so tonight, as he was about to repeat the ritual, you caught his head, cradling his puzzled lovesick face in your hands, and questioned him about the details of his anatomy.

“su-sure?” he pouted, membraned hands clutching on your knees nervously. “you’re sm-ch-small”

you nodded eagerly (and a little enthusiastically after that remark), and he lowered his gaze, yanking his lower half out of the water to nestle beside you on the mossy rock. both of you were quite pent up after the hour long makeout, raw lips puffy of all bites and kisses shared. he pulled you beside him, and you were quick to latch on to the sweet spot behind his ear, where scarce scales mixed with thin skin. during the previous night you’ve learned how sensitive he was to touch, how responsive his body was to all your caresses, and used it to your advantage, riling up innocent samu into the whining mess. a ghosting drag of your fingers across his waist, a gentle circle around his nipple, and a dig of your nails into his meaty pec, and he was buzzing already, human swearing babbled up in mush with his coos and clicks.

you were about to repeat the ritual, as he caught your wrist and moved your hand way lower, somewhere just below the root of his tail, and you felt a previously invisible slit there opening up. curious, you’ve broken the kiss, pressing tighter to the spot, and samu’s head felt back. bemused, you did it again, and again, and a few more times again, every touch eliciting a whine out of your seaprince, until something prodded through the opening, quickly gaining in size.

it took everything he got for samu to prop himself up on his elbows and watch your face as two large dicks grew above the scales, light purple and streaming with translucent slick, curved up and thick, with a slightly sharper tip compared to human. samu gulped, watching as your hand stilled beside them, eyes trained on the discovery. he was slowly growing frantic, feeling too open, too on display, too ashamed to ever present you with his physique, but your voice stilled him.

your voice, filled to the brim with thrill.

“you… you have two?”

samu nodded, ears flat against his head and neck, and quickly vocalised. “yes, two” he sounded skittish again, like when the two of you first met. “small a-and /click/ big”

“they’re both big”

for some reason, it helped him exhale, puffy chest heaving with intensity.

“can i…” you finally looked at him and samu blushed under your lustful gaze. “can i ride you?”

“m-mhm” he managed, leading your hand to the base of the upper - smaller - one, and you felt your hole clench in anticipation as your hand barely closed around his girth. osamu barely held in a whine, the softness of your fingers so delicious against his neglected need.

eyes darting between him and his dicks, you attempted a little pump at the base, and he threw his head back, a bubbly gurgle resounding off the rocks. once more, a little tighter, a little longer, and his tail twitched, mouth hanging open in search for air.

he looked so good like this, so easily manipulated into the prettiest mess. unlike when he was pleasuring you, here he lost all focus, fingers clutching aimlessly at the grayish moss. Moving your hand up and down, dousing him in his own slick, you were hypnotized by this samu, a foolish little puddle of need and want, so extremely sensitive, so very pretty with tears in his eyes and lips quivering. Shy and bordering on crying, he was like a… wait.

“are you a virgin?’ your hand stilled at his tip, thumbing mindlessly over the slit. forced to open his eyes, he tilted his head again, ears twitching in confusion. “vir-”

“first time?” you saved him the embarrassment, playful grin pulling at your lips as he dropped his gaze again, nodding.

snaking your hand under his chin, you brought his face closer, leaving reassuring pecks all across the blooming cheeks. “you want to do it?”

“yes” a rushed answer igniting your core with tingles, you left one last peck to his lips and straddled him, skirt tossed aside to the thickets of grass.

teasing mood getting the best of you, you let your folds brush against his lengths, adding to the moisture. samu’s eyes were fixed on where the two of you connected, body all still except for the happily fluttering ears. “no no, watch me” you cooed, raising his chin up with your finger and tossing the rest of your clothes aside, hips picking up the pace as you humped on his pulsating cocks.

samu gulped down the huff and obliged, hands finding purchase on your hips. his tail flapped lightly across the stone, body seizing up every other second as his tips brushed against your entrance. it was intoxicating, watching this hunk of a man so sheepish and eager while not even in, little whines and chirps bubbling up in his chest all because of you.

dragging your pussy over him one more time, you lined his lower dick with your entrance and sank down, the stretch burning just a tiny bit. he was so thick, so heavy nestled all the way up to your belly, and your walls twitched uncontrollably, trapping him inside.

“fu-fuck” he cried, fingers digging into your thighs and ass, eyes screwed shut of the sheer pleasure your tightness provided. your own legs shook, thighs splayed over his lower half, and you felt too drunk, suddenly, realising how hard it will be to last long on top of him like that. so pretty, so innocent even after his mouth has been devilishly good to your arousal, and stretching you out so perfectly, he was truly a gift.

with one of your hands on his chest and another enveloping his upper cock, you tried to move, jerking your hips up and down, and your vision turned white for a second. he pressed against all the right places, the drag of soft ridges and curves hooking you up in an instant, and you moaned, trying the movement again.

samu thrashed under you, eyes glassy, mouth hanging open in silent scream, and bucked up into you, shifting the angle just a bit and

“ah, samuu, ah-” you cried, nails digging into his chest. “m-more, like that”

fat chance he didn’t really hear you, too lost in bliss and chasing his own high like feral, he bucked up more and faster, faster, fingers digging into the plush of your ass. you bounced on top, choking up on your own sobs, your essence streaming down your thighs and letting out the sinful squelching sounds as you two neared your high.

“sa-samu, oh, like tha-at” you whined, your hand pumping his upper dick on its own, all rhythm lost to overwhelming pleasure as you felt the familiar yet much bigger knot tying up inside.

“mmhm, like that, mhmm, ah-” he echoed, foolish grin tugging at his lips, crazed eyes fixated on your fucked out face right above his own, as his thrusts became deeper, harsher, aiming right at your sweet spot inside. “gon’ mmm, gon’ c-cu-”

“saamuu!” you cried, toes curling as your hand tightened around his other cock and the knot snapped loose, orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. he followed right after, runny copious loads painting your insides, his body shaking and seizing up as he hugged you tight, face hidden in the crook of your neck.

as you two came down your high, you kissed his chest, propping up yourself to smile at his blissed out features.

“wanna go again?”

MDNI, reblogs and comments are welcome, double wrap for double d

taglist: @hoohoohope, @justanothernpcartist @the-b-u-n-n-y to join the taglist, please leave a comment on my kinktober masterlist or dm me (pls remember u have to have ur age in bio)

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forusomimiya · 1 year

Text

Haikyuu! Texts 💬

Hq guys reacting to your wet dream

Osamu, Bokuto

Okay sorry if this was really shitty, but I've been sick for about 3 days and I'm out of ideas 🤒 Don't hold it against me :(

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haikyuuwaifu · 9 months

Text

EPILOGUE

Genre: Humor, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing

MASTERLIST

-Y/n is so happy her best friend is tying the knot. She helped Atsumu and Kuroo plan every single part of their wedding so they could have the perfect day. Kenma is teasing, but he also made sure to give Atsumu the shovel talk of his life before giving his blessing. Kuroo actually asked Osamu to stand in as his best man along side Kenma. Over the years, the two friends developed a very strong friendship. Atsumu had already claimed Y/n as his best woman, and even though he loved Samu, Y/n was his best girl and he and Kuroo wouldn’t have gotten married if it hadn’t been for Y/n giving Kuroo the push he needed all those years ago.

-At the reception drinks were pouring. The wedding party was wild and Akaashi and Kiyoomi were the only two who had managed to keep their shit together. Everyone but Y/n knew Osamuw as going to propose at the reception. Atsumu threatened Osamu, gave him his blessing, and helped his twin plan it perfectly. Suna was on videography duty and managed to get tons of candid photos before and after the proposal. Osamu was scared Y/n would say no, but a talk with Mimi (She makes it a point to see Y/n and Osamu twice a month) gave Osamu the confidence he needed. Mimi also gave Osamu Y/n’s nana’s ring. Y/n bawled like a baby when Osamu opened the box and she saw it. Atsumu was in fact crying like a baby back bitch; but every one of their friends were too.

-Down the line, Osamu was in a comfortable enough spot that he was ready to open up a second location. Y/n sold her family’s company and with the profits she re-invested it back into Onigiri Miya. With the large amount of money, Osamu was able to hire a proper management team, advertising, and all the works so he could finally expand his dream. Onigiri Miya now covers a good number of the bigger metro’s of Japan and there’s one corner shop in most of the smaller prefects. Y/n and Osamu married after opening their fourth location in Osaka. They had their wedding there and Y/n asked Atsumu to give her away. They spent the rest of their lives laughing, learning, and loving. Osamu kept his promise and they shared the same love Y/n’s grandparents had for a very long time.

Looking back, Y/n wouldn’t have changed anything. Even now, years later sitting on her porch listening to Osamu and Atsumu bickering. They were all older now, but Y/n wasn’t worried. “Nana, it’s time to teach me the secret recipe!” A little voice shouted, causing Y/n to smile. Her son shook his head at the little girl, rolling his eyes. “Ma hasn’t even taught me or grandad the secret recipe.” He snorted, as his daughter stuck her tongue out at her father. “Well, that’s different.” Y/n quipped, moving to get up from her chair. “Sako’s my favorite.” Y/n teased, as her granddaughter took her hand. “Now, let’s get a move on. It’s almost lunch time and ya uncle is gonna whine about starving before we know it.” The old woman snorted, as the duo walked inside. In the entryway of the home was a photo from Y/n’s wedding day. It was filled with friends and family. Osamu had it painted, and standing next to Y/n was her own nana, a big smile on her face.

And with that, this brings a close to the SMAU Still into you. Thank you so much for reading <3 This was definitely one of my top 5 favorites to write :)

#still into you #haikyuu #haikyuu smau #smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #osamu imagine #osamu x reader #osamu scenario #osamu x female reader #osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x female reader

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honeystwiggypeach · 1 year

Note

HII! I’d like to request a Christmas morning with dad! Osamu miya, + opening presents with their kids.

Tbh I for husband Osamu, he would be such a great husband/dad tho😭❤️

Ok I’m back for a bit I’m going to try and work through a few older requests because I have a ton and no motivation but at least this one’s gonna be out before Christmas?😭sorry this took so long hon I’ve had zero ideas in a while so! Anywho I love this idea and as always tysm for requesting!!!

When you’d woken up this morning it was to your twin girls jumping around the bed, your husband helping your baby boy to lightly jump on the bed as well. He fondly smiles at you when he notices your eyes cracked open slightly.

You sit up smiling and hugging the girls when they jump on you and tug on you squealing about Christmas and Santa.

You sit at the counter as Osamu fixes you a small mug of hot chocolate already knowing the girls would ask for a sip of whatever had landed in your mug. Your baby boy babbles lightly as he lays his head against Osamu’s shoulder his chunky cheeks pressing against his dad’s gray sleep shirt.

The girls excitedly dance around the kitchen and Osamu intentionally takes his time with the drink taking big slow steps and the girls huff and pout at his actions before they all break out into an eruption of giggles both you and your sons brows furrow.

Inevitably you all work your way into the living area, the gifts are sorted in front of the girls both having their respective gifts, the two horribly wrapped last minute gifts your husband pick up last night hidden behind the tree…it’s clearly two bikes but they don’t know yet and your son is happy to babble along occasionally chewing on a few of his new baby toys his sisters had helped to pick out.

And Osamu can’t help but wonder what he would do if he’d never met you.

Anywho!! Let me know if you wanna see more sorry it was kinda cut short but I ran out of ideas😭😭

#anons #requests #reader insert #x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu parents #haikyuu dads #mom!reader #dad!osamu x mom!reader #dad!osamu #dad!osamu x reader #osamu x female reader #osamu miya #hq osamu #Osamu x mom!reader

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

Text

🍙Cooking Class🍥

Meeting Single Dad! Osamu Miya

Single Dad! Osamu Miya x Single Mom! Yn (female reader; she/her pronouns)

Warnings: fluff, a small Miya child raised by Osamu and Atsumu 😅

AN: This is an Anon request! I named the children because it was easier than saying “your son” all the time! Also the request is a little different then the direction I went in, I honestly love this request so I left it open to a potential pt. 2 👀

Oof- being a single mom is HARD

Trust me, I know 🥰

But once again this isn’t about me, this is about You

Our fearless, strong, kind, beautiful, intelligent YN

Emphasis on the strong part because as a single mom, you sure need alot of strength

You work your butt off during the day, working full time and juggling your sons daily schedule

At night, you cook dinner, clean, help your son with homework, bedtime, bath and repeat

It’s literally a never ending cycle of work for you my love

If you’re lucky, you’ll get a night free or maybe even get a chance to relax with a glass of your favorite alcoholic beverage

But most of the time, your focus is solely on your son, Akira.

You had him relatively young and he’s approaching the age of 8

He’s a busy, active boy who has alot of friends, does well in school and is an overall good kiddo

It makes you feel so good when people praise you for bringing up such an awesome son 🥰

This is important to remember YN because sometimes raising kids is literally like raising demons that just crawled out from the pits of hell and have never been introduced to civilized society

😮‍💨 sorry about that long and very detailed description but tell me I’m wrong

I’m definitely not

This fact often hits home when your son asks you one question in particular…

“Hey mom, when are you going to find a boyfriend?” Akira asks innocently

“Umm well, like I’ve said before, I don’t need a man and I’m doing pretty well on my own,” you say with a smile

Your son ponders for a second before saying

“Ok so then why do you keep saying to your bestie that you wish you had a man?” He says as you gape at him

“First off, stop listening in on my conversations! Second, while it would be nice to date someone, I’m just really busy,” you say, hoping this will deflect all future questions and move on to literally any other subject

It’s a pipe dream Yn keep up 👏

“Well my friend Gao says his dad said you were hot and would date you,” he says as you turn to stare at him once again

“I’m not dating any of the dads at your volleyball practice Akira!?” You said as your son just shrugs

“Plus none of those dads are even good looking,” you say as you throw the dish towel down on the counter

It’s true that your dating life had been less than spectacular as of late

Oh sorry, it’s never been spectacular 😅

You’d been on your own since Akira was born, having not been on a date in literal years due to working and your commitment to parenting

You signed as you walked out of the kitchen, Akira’s attention now turning to a book he had been reading

“Maybe it’s time I do something for myself,” you say as you head to your room

And that’s what brings us here, to the doorstep of a cute little Onigiri restaurant known as Onigiri Miya

You had seen an advertisement for cooking lessons in the local paper, having registered online

You walked into the restaurant, the doorbell chiming

The restaurant was small and cozy, but the smell permeating the air was heavenly

You looked around, noting no one else in the store

“Hey, just a second!” A voice shouted as you turned to the doorway

“No rush, thank you!” You respond standing in front of the menu

The options were spectacular and all looked beyond amazing

“Hey sorry about that wait,” a tall, handsome brunette man said coming out from behind the kitchen door

“Oh it’s not worry! I’m a bit early it seems,” you say, smiling

The man stared at you, eyes raking in your form from top to bottom

You were dressed rather casual for a summers evening, shorts and a nice top with a pair of comfortable shoes

“Im YN by the way,” you say, smiling and extending your hand

“Umm Osamu and don’t worry, you aren’t early or late, you’re my only sign up for the class,” Osamu says as your eyes widen

“Oh my god really? This is such an amazing class and you’re telling me I’m the only sign up?” You said as Osamu nodded

“Yep but no worries! Come on back and we can get started,” he says as you nod and make your way around the counter, “Wash your hands and we can get stared. Do you know anything about cooking?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say im completely a novice,” you say as you dry your hands

“Ok so a beginner,” Osamu says as you interrupt him

“Hey! Give me some credit! I know how to boil water ok? Im at least intermediate,” you say as Osamu chuckles

“Ok so we can skip the boiling water lesson then,” he says as you smile and stand next to him

Osamu stiffens as you stand there looking up at him with your big eyes

You were so cute and sweet

You face was perfect from your eyes to your nose, your hair immaculate and your body flawless

“Ok let’s get started,” he says as you hear the door chime

“Hey dad!” a voice shouted

“Kenji what the hell are you doing here? Where’s Sumu?” Osamu says as you watch the little boy, around your sons age walk into the kitchen

“I’m right here chill out!” Another voice yells from the door as a double of Osamu but with untoned hair walks in

“Well hello there,” the untoned blonde says as he walks up to you

“Sumu what the hell? I told you I had a class tonight! You were suppose to keep Kenji until 9,” Osamu says as he sighs and looks at you apologetically

“Wait that was tonight? Oh shit, I totally forgot! I have a meeting with Sakusa and Bokuto,” Sumu says as Osamu rolls his eyes

“Hi there, I’m Kenji,” the little boy says to you as you smile and meet him at eye level

“Hi! I’m YN, it’s very nice to meet you!” You respond, shaking his hand

“Hey you’re really pretty! Are you dating my dad?” He asks excitedly as you snicker, Osamu’s face heating up at the question that just emerged from his sons mouth

“Kenji no! She’s a client of mine who is taking a cooking class,” Osamu says

Kenji looks from you to Osamu, “is cooking class a secret word for something?”

Sumu belts out a laugh as Osamu kicks him, causing you and Kenji to both laugh

“No, your dad is teaching me how to make onigiri,” you say, “it’s my sons favorite so I want to make it at home with him.”

Osamu looked at you as you smiled back at him, he would have never known you had a son at your age

“Oh cool! How old is he? Does he play sports?” Kenji asks as you smile and nod

“Akira is 7 and he does! He just started playing volleyball,” you say as Kenji’s eyes light up

“I play volleyball too! My dad use to play in school too!” He says as you smile

“Hey what about uncle Sumu!” The agitating voice interrupts

Kenji just rolls his eyes as Osamu smirks 😏

“My uncle Sumu plays setter for the MSBY Black Jackals,” he says

“His very SINGLE uncle that is,” Sumu interrupts

You 👉🏻😐

Kenji 👉🏻🙄

Osamu 👇🏻

You giggle as the twins fight and Kenji grabs a stool to help you

“You should bring your son here sometime,” he says as you smile

“I think I will! He’d love that!” You say as Osamu watches you interact with his son

He can’t say the picture didn’t melt his heart just a little, seeing Kenji getting along with someone so well

Too bad kids give very little reprieve

“You should go on a date with my dad,” he says as Osamu nearly chokes on air

You giggle and continue prepping

“I don’t know how your dad would feel about you setting him up,” you say and Kenji shrugs

“Uncle Sumu says he needs to get laid,” he says as the room goes still

You try hard to contain your laughter as Osamu slowly turns to glare at Sumu

Sumu run 👉🏻😗 🎵

“Atsumu-”

“Well would you look at the time! See you soon kiddo and it was nice meeting you Yn!” Sumu says, running from the restaurant before he receives a career threatening injury

“I know what we could do, maybe you and your dad could meet up with me and Akira for a playdate?” You say, looking at Kenji

His eyes light up, “ohhh yes can we dad?!”

Osamu watches your gorgeous eyes light up, the sweet smile on your face melting all of his restraint

“I don’t see why not,” he says as Kenji cheers

“Ok it’s a date then!” You say, looking for Kenji to Osamu

“Yeah, it’s a date”

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pinky-the-elephant-room · 1 year

Text

You're like a well-done meal I can't get enough of.

の AN: Me wondering why everyone's doing Valentines prompts not knowing that it's already February lmaooo. But no this is no V- Day prompt I just finished the last season of Haikyuu so I wrote a fic for the best twin.

の Warning: None! Osamu x Fem Reader SFW

の Summary: Sometimes Osamu could be dense as his twin. Not even knowing the entire time Y/N liked him.

のののののの

His eyes narrowed at his brother and his friend.

She held her bangs up with her hand and nodded to Atsumu.

His twin grinned and swatted her forehead with his finger.

Y/N hissed and rubbed at the reddened skin.

“You jerk!” she yelled. “I told you not to hit me so hard.”

Atsumu shrugged. “You shouldn’t have dared me.”

“Best two out of three!”

The two idiots then proceeded to stuff their mouths with sushi, only for Y/N this time to swallow and gulp down some water quickly.

“Ha! Take that I win!” Y/N cheered, sticking out her tongue and showing off the fact she had finished before Atsumu.

“You cheated! How many sushi did you eat? We both agreed on five sushi at the same time,” Atsumu accused.

“Don’t be a sore loser! Now show off that big old forehead of yours. Time for payback.”

Osamu frowned and looked away, shaking his head forlornly.

It was hard enough being away from his twin. What with their busy schedules with him managing Onigiri Miya and Atsumu being busy with the Black Jackals. They hardly ever got time to meet up in person. The most they would interact nowadays were the roast sessions they had via texts.

Now he had to deal with the fact this slip of a girl was replacing him.

When she first came with Atsumu, he assumed that his twin had brought her along to introduce Y/N as his girlfriend.

Imagine his surprise when they both grimaced in disgust at the thought of dating each other.

Instead, she was just a friend, their camaraderie- reminiscent of Sumu’s and his relationship. She felt like a cheap replacement in his opinion.

Though, he wasn’t rude enough to make his feelings known. No, he sucked it up, smiled, and welcomed her like she belonged.

But privately hoping that they would eventually grow apart and stop being friends.

At least they weren’t dating each other.

Osamu frowned at that thought. Not knowing why he felt uncomfortable.

“Samu, what’s wrong? Is your sushi bad?” Atsumu asked at seeing his face. “Let me see.” His twin reached out to grab some of his sushi only for his hand to be smacked away by Y/N.

“You idiot. Don’t grab without asking.”

“I did ask!”

“That’s not asking! You just said ‘let me see’.” At this Y/N lowered her voice to imitate Atsumu and Atsumu looked vaguely insulted at her attempt. “And started grabbing that’s not asking.”

Y/N turned her attention toward him. “Here, Osamu-kun. I saved your sushi.”

She looked at him expectantly and smiled gently.

Osamu blinked and swallowed, feeling the back of his neck get hot. “Thanks, Y/N-chan.” He felt unsure as to why all of a sudden he was feeling overwhelmed. Perhaps Atsumu was right maybe the sushi was bad.

He took a bite out of a sashimi roll and didn’t find anything wrong with it. Shrugging it off, maybe the stress of overworking had finally gotten to him.

He noticed Y/N still observing him, who flashed him a quick smile before turning her attention back to his twin. His stomach dropped and churned as he became more and more conflicted.

Osamu couldn’t help but make an observation that Y/N looked especially pretty today.

ののののの

“Text me when you get home,” Atsumu ordered as he pulled Y/N’s cheeks.

The three of them had just finished their meals, and Y/N was headed back to Tokyo.

“Don’t tell me what to do you’re not my mooo-” the rest of her words came out garbled as Atsumu pulled harder.

“Ok, ok! I will!” Y/N managed to sputter after she pushed Atsumu away.

She glared at Atsumu from the corner of her eyes before waving to Osamu.

“I’ll see you later, Osamu-kun! It was nice to see you. We should do this more often,” she said with a hopeful look.

He shrugged noncommittally and they saw off Y/N heading to the nearby subway.

“Why do you keep bringing her along?” Osamu demanded as soon as Y/N was out of sight.

“What do you mean by that?” Atsumu seemed confused like his reaction was unexpected.

“Every time we try to hang out you bring her along! You don’t even bother asking either.”

“You’re kidding me, right? Samu, don't tell me you haven’t noticed yet?”

Osamu felt like he was missing something here. Was he supposed to notice something?

“Y/N likes you! You should be proud of me. I was actually doing a good thing for someone else.”

“Twins don’t count you’re supposed to be nice to family,” Osamu managed to utter.

He felt dizzy from Atsumu’s admission. Y/N liked him? Since when? He could practically count the number of times they’d talked without Atsumu present on his hands.

“And it doesn’t bother you that Y/N likes me?”

“No. Why would it?”

Osamu chuckled and shook his head. Of course, it wouldn’t. So, they truly were just friends and his brother of all people was trying to play matchmakers.

“What’s so funny?”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t concern you.”

Osamu ignored his twin’s fuming rants in the background as he contemplated on what to do with the impromptu information he had just received.

のののの

Osamu exhaled when he heard the front door of Onigiri Miya chime and heard Y/N’s familiar voice.

He wiped his wet hands with a nearby towel and cracked his neck.

It was time. He was taking the leap.

He could almost hear Atsumu’s smug annoying voice in the background calling him out on hesitating when she was waiting outside for him.

Osamu waved off his imaginary twin’s visage and stepped from the back to where he saw Y/N looking around the store, fascinated.

“Osamu-kun!” she called startled, yet embarrassed when he appeared before her without a sound.

“Y/N-chan, you’re here on time. Let’s go,” he gestured towards the preparation station where he had everything set up.

“Wait isn’t Atsumu coming too? Shouldn’t we wait for him?”

“He couldn’t make it. Apparently, he’s staying back tonight to practice some more with the team.”

“Ugh, that’s just like him and without any warning whatsoever.”

“Here,” he handed over an apron. Not wanting to hear anything about his brother when it was just him and Y/N alone.

Osamu stepped behind her and slightly caressed her waist as he intertwined the apron’s strings and tied them neatly in the back.

He smirked when he heard her choke back a gasp at his closeness.

“Tight enough?” he asked, leaning over to deliberately whisper near her ear.

She shakingly nodded and he let her go, satisfied for now with her reactions.

“You’re not gonna need my brother to learn how to make onigiris. Just me and you is enough.”

He hadn’t meant to tease but her cheeks nevertheless turned a lovely shade of pink at his words.

The rice had already been cooked, and set aside: steaming and hot ready for them to be rolled into onigiris.

There was also a variety of different ingredients like miso sauce or tuna mixed with mayo depending on the type of onigiris Y/N preferred.

Osamu instructed her slowly, making sure she was following each step accurately as possible.

“You should roll them like this,” he said, enveloping his hands with her own and guiding her along.

At first, he could feel her trembling at their closeness and she stiffened like she wanted nothing more than to push him away. But he held firm and softened his tone to soothe her discomfort.

“And then you’re done,” he said relinquishing his hold and smiled down at the perfect shape of the onigiri they had made.

“Can I taste?” she asked, reaching for the shaped rice ball.

He handed it over and she delicately took a bite.

Y/N savored it and broke into a gleeful smile.

“It’s good! Wow, usually my onigiris never turn out this good.”

“May I?” Osamu asked reaching out. Y/N assumed he meant the onigiri held it out for him, only for him to snake his arm around her waist and pull her close.

“Itadakimasu,” he teased, leaning in and kissed her.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu x female reader #miya twins #osamu miya #inarizaki #haikyū!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyu fanfiction

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wakatshi · 2 years

Text

WITH MIYA OSAMU. ／ INSPIRED BY THIS TIKTOK

“good evening, miss blueberry tart. thought you’d never come back. are ya by yourself tonight? no boyfriend this time?”

MIYA OSAMU remembers your favorite dessert and the awkwardness his mindless, innocent flirt set between you and your boyfriend. or was it a joke? he thought it was funny, that evening was terribly boring, but he immediately regretted it, returning to the kitchen, he thought you may file a complaint against him — or your boyfriend, he was definitely pissed off. but none of you did, although that was the last time he saw you and perhaps that night left him with a bitter taste and even more regret.

he thought you were pretty. and even prettier when he personally took your order instead of watching one of his waiters do their usual job. there was something about you osamu couldn’t put his finger on.

you laughed a few times and he found himself staring at you and eavesdropping more than he should’ve. at the pretty pair of earrings you wore. the fluffy turtleneck, your hands and eyelashes. your silly jokes and your unfunny boyfriend’s comments. he couldn’t help himself but flirt with you, even if you didn’t reciprocate. osamu knew you wouldn’t, but he still did it and pretended it was for his business and tips.

in the past few weeks he’s developed a stupid crush on you and every now and then, osamu hoped you’d show up again. with or without your boyfriend. (or your husband? fiancé? hopefully it’s not the case)

“he’s not my boyfriend anymore. we broke up.”

no way. he couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you all by yourself.

it’s been a few weeks since your break up and even more weeks since you last set foot in this man’s restaurant. and wasn’t it for your best friend and her vivid imagination and countless encouraging words, you would’ve stayed inside your apartment for the rest of the evening. it’s freezing anyway and you stood right in front of the entrance, shivering, debating whether you should go inside or not.

just go, stop worrying so much!

you wanted to see him again but you doubted he had any recollection of what happened. he probably did it often. but the hot owner who flirted with you somehow remembered you.

“huh? really? his tarts must’ve really sucked.”

“i wouldn’t know. but tell me, do you do this often? remembering your customers’ favorite desserts?”

“why? ya think i’m giving me special treatment? i’d never. i treat all my customers the same. don’t want any complaints.”

liar.

“but, just so you kno’, i’m willing to give blueberry tarts a try for you. i could make ya one next week. here.”

“are you asking me on a date?”

“so many assumptions. but only if ya think it is.“

“what if i don’t?”

“you’re still welcome to come. it’s not my specialty and i’m not your boyfriend, but i could perfect it for ya.”

it’s definitely a date.

likes, reblogs are feedback are always appreciated 🤍

a/n : yes, i plan to write a second part idk when, but i will !!! it’s my first first time writing osamu btw but i couldn’t help myself i love that tiktok.

#miya osamu #osamu x reader #osamu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya osamu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #osamu x female reader

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kentopedia · 7 months

Text

♰ his parliament's on fire — dazai osamu

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 1 - nightclub owner!dazai

every man in yokohama has a long list of crimes they’d commit to be with you, but none quite as long as dazai’s.

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, port mafia boss!dazai, port mafia member!reader, bsd typical blood / violence, unprotected sex, established relationship, takes place before doa, dazai & reader are a lil unhinged bc they're in love, praise, soft dazai, riding dazai, sub reader, v slight breeding kink oops — 10.1k

The music shook your chest as you watched people head to the front of the club for a dance, a combination of those that were regulars, and those who were just desperate to blow their money on an evening in one of the finest night clubs in the country.

It had grown hot in the club, even for an autumn evening in Yokohoma. There were more people filling the tables than usual, standing only to swing their partners around on the dancefloor. A woman sung sultrily to the crowd, a song that you hadn’t heard in ages. Even for a Saturday, it was crowded, the capacity met, and then surpassed, packed to the brim as a group of foreign billionaires weaseled their way in by paying twice the entry fee.

You swirled your glass, sitting alone at the bar with your legs crossed, the tight, red dress rising up on your thighs. Beside you, a man was puffing a cigar, blowing the smoke back in your face so frequently that it took all your effort not to cough. Still, he paid you little attention, too enraptured by a skinny young woman that giggled every time he touched her arm.

A few more individuals made their way to the dancefloor, tracking unaccompanied dancers like prey, hopeful that they could score a partner for the evening. It was amusing, really, how often you’d seen some of the same men come back. They’d throw stacks of money on the table in a desperation to acquaint themselves with beautiful, upper-class women, even if they’d go home unhappy and broke.

Ice clinked against the sides of your glass as the last drop disappeared down your throat, warming you up for the rest of the evening. Already, you had caught the glimpse of several men in the club. But those who knew who you were knew to keep their distance, and they never tried to sneak more than a subtle glance in your direction.

Those who didn’t usually noticed nothing but your striking beauty and the allure of darkness that seemed to follow you. They were drawn to you easily, smiling at you like they were entitled to gawk at your appearance, like it would be criminal for anyone so beautiful to shield herself away from the world.

Rarely did that ever end well for them.

You handed your empty glass off to the bartender—a dear friend that you’d convinced to work for you at the club—and made your way over to the dance floor. The crowd parted for you with quick glances and slackened jaws, stumbling on their own feet to get out of your way. Once you passed, the world seemed to resume itself. Everyone continued about their business, averted their gaze, even if they were careful not to get too close to you.

Something about that made you smile.

For a while, you danced on your own, grinning carelessly to yourself as you twisted your hips, unbound yourself to the music and the alcohol that ran through your veins. It was a different kind of freedom, and though you’d once been wary of the watchful eyes, they no longer bothered you. You loved losing yourself in the rhythm, loved feeling transported to another realm.

The setlist for the evening included a few of your favorites, and you carried on until there was sweat on your forehead, a single bead trickling down your temple, one that you hastily wiped off. Breaths came to you more stiflingly, heaving inhales and exhales that paired with your thirst.

Finally, the tempo of the music slowed, just enough to snap you back into the present, and the energy zapped out of you as your mood darkened. The time of the evening had passed when you realized that it was no longer fun to dance alone.

You sighed, and with a frown, let your gaze trail across the room to find the cool brown eyes that you loved more than the music you spun in circles to. But Dazai was already in a conversation with someone else, tapping slender fingers against his glass full of amber liquid. He listened intently to a conversation between two men twice his age.

Beside him, Chuuya stood at the edge of the table like a loyal bloodhound, his arms crossed as he leaned back against the wall. You caught his eye instead and smiled to him, though not a single muscle in his face twitched. It seemed as though he was intent on keeping up the charade for the evening.

As much as you wanted to smile even more sweetly and taunt him mercilessly, you didn’t let yourself get too distracted. Instead, you refocused your sights on your other goal.

The stocky, tall man was right where Dazai said he’d be, sitting with a couple woman and a few empty glasses in front of him. He had a neatly trimmed, graying beard, sporting a watch that was, at least, a couple million yen.

You caught him watching you over the edge of the table, his smile slow as you bat your eyelashes at him, sauntering past him with a perfectly coy expression. Eyes lingered on the curves of your hips; the smooth skin of your legs revealed by the dress. The lust came in near waves off of him, thick and heavy as they reached you.

It made your job easier, the obvious attraction that they never tried to hide from you. You smiled to yourself, and felt a sense of satisfaction, despite his disgraceful leering.

The seats at the bar had been filled up when you returned, leaving no room for you and your new companion to retreat.

A younger regular, one with an overabundance of nerves and an awkward smile, spoke in hushed whispers to his friend, one that was dressed in a suit far too cheap to be in this club.

You tapped him on the shoulder, smiling at him in the way that had everyone bending over backwards for you. “Excuse me?”

He looked over, irritated for a fleeting second before realizing who it was that had approached him. Immediately, he was to his feet, stammering over a greeting while his friend gawked at him with incredulity.

“Sorry to bother you,” you said, softening your voice. “I was wondering if I could have those seats. I hate to—”

“No, no,” he said, practically shoving the other man away, pushing him out of the chair while he sputtered confused nonsense. “Take them! We’ll be out of your hair.”

You thanked them before placing yourself neatly back onto the stool you’d occupied before. It was far too easy.

The bartender sent you a knowing look, all too familiar with your games, before going back to mixing a drink.

Moments later, you felt the presence of another behind you, an overwhelming smell of tobacco and pine assaulting your senses. He was taller up close, taller than Dazai, at least, and older than you’d originally thought. Deep wrinkles weathered his skin, his eyes, and though there was still a hint of black in his dark hair, it was slowly being overtaken by the signs of a life that was twice as long as yours.

“Pretty dress.” That was the first thing he said to you, letting his eyes wander over your chest, lips curling into an ugly smirk. “It suits you nicely.”

You wouldn’t be won over so easily, so you merely smiled at him, nodding in thanks. Though, that had him coming on twice as strong, as if the simple eye contact that you’d made earlier had been a full invitation to fuck you. He took the seat next to you, signaling the bartender over.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said, and though it was a kind proposition, it always made you laugh. You received a million free drinks from strangers here.

Still, you shrugged and let him, unsurprised that he knew what you’d been drinking earlier. It was a clear sign that he’d been watching you since before you even got up to dance.

“What’s your name?”

“Should I give it away that easily?” Your voice was silky in your response, unimpressed, but luring him in, nonetheless.

He laughed, and offered you his own instead, Tanaka, as if you didn’t already know it. You’d been planning on springing him into this trap since the moment he’d arrived that evening. It was a target and a plan that had been set in motion for days.

His grin was uncomfortable, but he thought so highly of the way his lips curled, seemingly luring you in.

In reality, you weren’t sure how any woman could stand to get down on her knees for that.

Half an hour passed as you talked with him, preening under his endless string of compliments, wishing that you could string him on for a little bit longer. You enjoyed the words well enough, just another thing to stroke your ego, but the minute he moved closer, you inched away, placing distance between you before he could touch you.

It was obvious it frustrated him, but one look at the flash in his irises had you knowing that he enjoyed the chase.

He droned on, careless conversation about hobbies you didn’t want to understand, and though you smiled, pretending to be interested, your focus drifted to the table where Dazai sat.

His conversation had shifted to Chuuya, the two other men from earlier gone. It seemed strained between them, sharp words spoken as they glared at one another, visibly at odds about something.

Despite the clear dispute, anger cleared away from their expressions within seconds, Chuuya straightening like a board beside his boss once again.

Dazai looked up; it was less than a second that your eyes met, but your knees had weakened, heart stuttering in your chest as it skipped a pulse.

A soft exhale left you, and you longed for Dazai, craved the feeling of his strong palm on your skin, the kiss of his lips on your neck. You had half a mind to say fuck the mission and walk right over to the table and plant yourself on his lap.

It would certainly cause a scene, especially when there were so many new customers there who knew about Dazai but didn’t know about you.

Still, you knew Dazai wouldn’t object. He’d merely smile into your hair and curl his hand around your hip, continuing on with his conversation like nothing was out of the ordinary.

You looked away. If you were to make it through the rest of the night, you couldn’t get distracted by the beautiful man just feet away from you. “Sorry,” you said, turning back to Tanaka. “What were you saying?”

His interest in conversation had already waned, and he faced Dazai, displeased by the uptick of fascination within your expression. “Found someone more interesting already?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you pressed your palms into your thighs. You may have longed for Dazai, been so desperate that you couldn’t spare him another glimpse, but you could still play this role well. There couldn’t be another slip, every move had to be precise.

“I’m just curious,” you said, puckering your lips in a pout. “He looks important.”

Tanaka took a sip of his drink as you spoke, nearly spitting it back out when your sentence concluded. His eyes were hard, narrowing at the sight of Dazai just meters away, surrounded by a security of sorts, “You don’t know him?” He coughed.

You frowned, tilting your head. “Should I?”

“That’s Dazai Osamu. He owns this place.”

There was room for a theatrical pause. You took that moment to pretend to think. “Oh, of course. What a silly question,” you said, humming, and set your chin down on your hand to glance back over at the table of Port Mafia personnel. “I hear he owns a lot of things.” You tilted your head, gauging the man with siren eyes. “Is that true?”

Tanaka huffed, but he didn’t deny it, looking down at his two-million-yen watch like it was nothing more than a trinket. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t worry about him.” He seemed irritated, though he didn’t let it show, his voice the only indicator that you had upset him. “But I can tell you it sure gets hard to run a business in Yokohama when the Port Mafia owns half the city.”

You widened your eyes, leaning forward. “You’re telling me the Port Mafia owns this place?”

Tanaka laughed, loud and haughty, looking at you like you were just a poor idiot from the countryside, even if the dress you wore cost just as much as his entire suit put together. “Oh, hon, if only you knew.”

The condescending tone sent a screech through your entire body, momentarily halting any proper responses in your current act. But he was unfazed, already moving onto the next topic of conversation, telling you all about the business dealings that you’d known about from the long list of jobs within his file.

There was, truly, nothing about him that you hadn’t already dug up. It was boring you immensely, but you smiled on, nodding enthusiastically as he spun the most lackluster story you’d ever heard.

Dazai, across the room, stared at you as you conversed, clenching his jaw at the way the man eyed you, the gaze that scoured your body like you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

Oh, he would certainly enjoy tearing him apart later, even if he would be too easy of a case to break.

“When are we leaving?”

Chuuya’s voice snapped him out of his onlooking, and Dazai leaned back in the chair, shedding the tension in his shoulders to resume a comfortable position.

“Not until they’re both in the car and I can confirm with Tachihara and Gin that she’s safe,” Dazai said, crossing his arms over the table. He couldn’t forget that there were others around him, those who would never say a word to him, but knew who he was, knew what he stood for. Even here, he couldn’t let his guard down.

“Safe?” Chuuya laughed, though it was without any humor. His irises flashed dangerously, steely grey darkening into a deep silver. “You trust that idiot not to lay a hand on her? He’s undressing her with his eyes.”

Chuuya seemed intent on irritating him that evening, as usual.

“I don’t trust anyone who comes here.” Dazai scowled. “Don’t be a fool.”

A moment of silence lapsed between them, and Dazai became sickened by the way the man was eyeing you. Though you took it all in stride, leaning just far enough away so his knee didn’t graze yours, and his palm didn’t brush against your own, it still lit a fire deep within him.

It was all the better, he supposed, to feel such deep hatred for his enemies. It made it easier to tear them apart without any guilt.

“How long are you going to make her do this, huh?” Chuuya spoke up once more from beside him, his voice nothing more than a grumble as he whispered down to Dazai. “This charade you two are carrying on has lasted long enough. I mean, you’re whoring out your wife for fuck’s sake—”

Dazai reacted without a thought, despite not wanting to take his eyes off of you for even a second. He gritted his teeth and turned on Chuuya, his hand gripping the gun in his pocket, finger tight on the trigger. Enough of a warning for him to know how sincerely the simple comment irritated him.

“Don’t ever insinuate that I don’t love my wife, Chuuya, or it’ll be the last thing you ever say.” Dazai spat the words out carefully, just under his breath, holding Chuuya’s piercing gaze without blinking. “You may be a valuable asset to the Port Mafia, but I will not listen to your opinions on matters that don’t concern you.”

Chuuya stared, setting his jaw before turning away once more. The two of them looked back to where you were smiling, leading the other man out of the room, though still not touching, placing a respectable distance between you.

“I’m just surprised, Dazai.” Chuuya leaned back, crossing his arms as he titled his head, watching your figure fade into the shadows. “You love her so fiercely, and yet, you watch as this carries on time and time again. I don’t understand.”

Dazai stood from the booth, tucking the gun back into his waistbad, under his coat. He straightened his shoulders, inhaling deeply. “I think you’re underestimating her if you truly believe she doesn’t have a handle on the situation.” His hands slipped into his pockets as Chuuya followed, grumbling from just a few feet away. “Besides, I’ve never forced her into anything. It was her idea in the first place.”

“Why?”

Dazai sighed, though it was almost wistful, the mere thought of you enough to turn him into a lovesick fool. “Perhaps it is because there are many men that seem to think they can crawl into her bed so easily, and she enjoys their humiliation when they realize that they are so far beneath her.” Dazai shrugged, and smiled lightheartedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Perhaps, she just wants to make everyone’s lives a little easier, including yours. You should thank her sometime.”

Tanaka sat beside you in the car, his hand lingering in the leather seat between his thigh and your own. Night had fallen deep across the city, the sky a navy through the haze of streetlights. Though it was nearing one o’clock in the morning, there were crowds of people out and about, lines at all of the much more affordable clubs in the area.

It hadn’t taken much to get him to come with you. You’d batted your eyelashes, smiled at him from under them, and told him you had a car waiting out back.

That was enough. When you’d pulled yourself down from the barstool, he’d followed after you, eyes blown wide as you’d begun leading him out of the room.

All it took was a dress that hugged your curves and a small grin, and he was in the car with a man that worked for you, heading to a building that your husband owned.

“Do you live far?” Tanaka asked, itching to put his hands on you, even though you’d convinced him to hold off until you got back to your room.

You placed your chin on the inside of your palm, glancing out the window at your own reflection. “Not too far.” You turned back to him, offering him a shy smile. “Why? Are you getting impatient?”

He grinned wolfishly. Your stomach churned anxiously at the sight of it, even when he was no match for you, nor all the other, powerful individuals that surrounded you. “I don’t think I need to answer that.”

Through the rearview mirror, Tachihara met your eyes, and they softened, just barely, silently showing his support from the front of the vehicle.

It was, in a way, a relief. You relaxed, regained a sense of composure, and let your ruby red lips spread over your teeth, cocking your head as Tanaka indulged himself in whatever fantasy was milling about in his mind. His eyes were cruel, though the darkness in them was nothing compared to what you were used to.

Idly, he made comments in your ear of all the things he wanted to do to you, his unpleasant breath tickling the skin there as you tried your best not to recoil. The smell of him was growing heavy in the car, overwhelming and nauseating. You sat even more stiffly, pressing Tanaka away with a palm to his chest as you giggled to yourself, pretending to enjoy his vulgar words.

Tachihara pulled the car around to the back of the building, letting the two of you out as he put it into park.

Any fool should’ve known where they were, what the dark building in the middle of the city stood for, but Tanaka was all too focused on you, intoxicated and inattentive. The mafia headquarters loomed overhead, dark, and unassuming, a triad of buildings stacked perfectly against one another.

“Thank you,” you said to Tachihara, winking at him as Tanaka turned his back, too disoriented to take in anything but the sight of you right before him.

The car drove away, then, and you were left to guide your guest into the building, towards the room that you had already planned to meet Dazai in. When you reached the elevator, Gin was waiting for you, dressed in female attire, this time, charading as a worker instead of the trained assassin that she truly was.

“Impressive building,” Tanaka said, as if not noticing all the obvious signs of the mafia base. “You must come from quite a wealthy family.”

You smiled at him over your shoulder, curious as to why he didn’t assume you’d come into the riches on your own. “I suppose you could say that.”

Gin opened the elevator, then began typing a message to her boss, alerting him of your arrival. Tachihara had taken the longest route back, giving Dazai just enough time to arrive home before you.

“Are you a renter?” he asked, staring as the numbers on the elevator increased, climbed higher while you went towards a floor that was only two below the penthouse.

“We own it.”

Tanaka turned towards you, eyes wide with surprise, perplexed even further by the alcohol running through his veins. “You didn’t say—”

Abruptly, he cut himself off. Whatever comment he was about to make was overshadowed by the fact that he’d met you at the Port Mafia’s night club. That was certainly no place for anyone that didn’t have a million yen to spare in their pockets.

Finally, the elevator dinged, and you relaxed at the sight of the familiar hall, the carpet that had recently been replaced, the paintings that you’d personally added, ones that had been purchased at an auction. There were traces of you everywhere, and though it belonged to many members of the mafia, it was, inherently, your home.

You grabbed Tanaka’s hand, realizing just how cold it was, wrinkled with calluses and dirtied nails. It took everything in you not to grimace as you pulled him towards the fourth door on the right, the one that had been used for every interrogation over the past two years.

It had become something of a holding cell for the mafia’s enemies, and most didn’t remain here long. You doubted that this man would be of any exception.

Tugging him along, you increased your speed, an invisible string guiding you right back to Dazai. He was your fiery beacon, and though you were still separated by walls, your heart thumped at being so near to him.

“Eager, are we?” Tanaka asked, and when he grinned in the lights, you realized how slimy it was, a hunger dripping off the edges of his yellowed teeth.

You smiled right back, but it was forceful, painful as it etched its way onto your cheeks. An itch started in the cracks of your palm, willing you to snatch it out of Tanaka’s hand and scrub it clean. Still, you held on, remembering that this was for the Port Mafia, this was for Dazai and everything you’d worked for over the years.Your determination increased tenfold. “It’s just around the corner.”

Finally, you reached the room where you knew Dazai would be waiting, and just like every other time you’d done this, every time you’d brought another willing victim into a den of wolves, you could finally relax.

You entered the room, not bothering to flip on any of the light switches. There was furniture, but it was dusty, bloody, and it would make it far too obvious that you were not leading Tanaka back to your bedroom. You didn’t want him turning tail too quickly, running when he discovered you had no intention of rolling around in the sheets with him.

He shut the door behind him with a quiet click, advancing on you like a hunter. It would’ve been threatening, intimidating perhaps, if you had not been able to sense Dazai on the other side of the wall. You knew that whatever control Tanaka thought he had on the situation had quickly evaporated, and it was only a false blanket of security that he’d wrapped himself up in.

“Can I get you anything? Maybe a drink?” you asked, stopping Tanaka with a flat palm to his chest, not allowing him to come any closer. “The alcohol in me is starting to wear off.”

He ignored your wishes entirely, upon you once more. One larger hand ripped yours from his chest, pulling you just another inch closer. “I’ve had enough tonight,” Tanaka said, teeth flashing in the dim starlight. “I’m dying to fuck you.”

You frowned, eyebrows wrinkling. “Well, I’d like a drink first.”

“I’m not in the mood.” He yanked on your hand again, and this time, you knew he’d kiss you, knew he’d plant the cracking pale lips of his own on yours. The thought of it made you ill.

Without thinking, you slung a fist across his face, a crunch sounding from his nose at the force of your hit. Blood trickled from one nostril, flowing in a fast stream over his lips, into his teeth.

He bent over, and you stood, straighter, staring over him as he cursed. The punch had been much more forceful than you’d intended.

“What the fuck.” He was angrier than before, and though his pain was immense, it did little to dissuade him. You kept your face hard, inching backwards as he stood tall, so much bigger than you’d remembered. It wouldn’t take much for him to lift you, throw you onto any surface he wanted.

You’d use your ability if you had to, kill the man if it was necessary, but that would mean the entire plan had gone to waste.

“You bitch—”

Without letting any fear cloud your face, you took a step back and bumped into something solid and warm. A cologne more familiar than Tanaka’s enveloped you in a safety net.

The older man made it one step further, aggressively, before every ounce of determination waned from his eyes. He staggered, tripping over himself and stared back at the man that had slowly come up behind you. The one that was brushing soft fingertips between your shoulder blades, his steady breath tickling the crown of your head.

Dazai smiled, in a way that was so menacing that your heart thumped twice in its chest before resuming its natural melody. Tanaka took a step back, scrambling away, nearly tripping over himself in the process, eyes dilated in fear.

“You,” he breathed. “Dazai—” Tanaka didn’t finish his sentence, too stunned as he stared between the two of you. “What’s going on?”

Dazai stepped forward, letting his hands fall away from you as he cornered the newest addition to his long list of enemies. Already, you missed the warmth of Dazai’s touch, the security that came with his proximity.

Tanaka cowered before him, suddenly so small, weak under the breadth of Dazai’s power. A sense of twisted satisfaction curled within you, lightning up every pore under your cold skin.

“I believe you owe my wife an apology,” Dazai said, and his tone was even, hard, not a hint of amusement laced within the words. Tanaka’s eyes darted to you, where you stood with your arms loose at your sides, eyes softer, every inch of you more delicate now that Dazai was in the room.

“Wife—” The word tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it, hesitant. “You said you didn’t know him. You asked me questions about him.”

You slid the ring back onto your finger, the one that you’d kept tucked away in the pocket of your bag. It glimmered in the beams of the moon, the diamond and rubies sparkling. “I can lie just as easily as a man can.” Crossing your arms, you sighed, and stared at Dazai’s taut back, the strained muscles in his shoulders as he stood over Tanaka. “You’re all so stupid sometimes. It only takes a simple question, and you never ask it. Anyone in that club could’ve told you who I am.”

He balked, considering his own ignorance, and followed your eyes back to Dazai, who had gone just a few steps behind you, to the small storage of top-shelf alcohol that you kept locked up in the room. “What is this about?” he asked, shaking his head to clear away his distress. “You’ve obviously brought me here for a reason. What is it?”

“I find it funny that you think you’re the one in control of the situation,” Dazai said, turning his back to fix himself a drink. He didn’t doubt that you would watch Tanaka for him with careful eyes. Even the smallest twitch of his eyebrows would be telling. “You don’t get to ask questions.”

“I haven’t done anything,” he said, and though his voice was hard, there was underlying panic. “I’ve stayed well out of the Mafia’s business, as promised—”

“Perhaps.” Dazai interrupted smoothly, coolly. “Our agreement wasn’t broken, per se. I just happen to think that working with outsiders is an act of much higher treason.”

Tanaka blinked, faltering. His jaw went slack, a mere second ticking before he replied. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t try to lie to me.” Dazai glanced over his shoulder, dark eyes narrowing. “I’m talking about Dostoevsky. The rats that are trying to take over my city.” He tsked, rolling the glass around on the counter, clinking it against the granite. Then, he popped a crystal bottle open, letting it fill a quarter of the glass. “Such a shame. You’ve built quite a name for yourself in Yokohama. Is this really worth losing all that?”

Tanaka stuck both hands in his pocket, shaking his head vigorously. His fingers flexed against his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who that is, I’ve never crossed anyone by that name.”

Seeing an opportunity while Dazai’s back was turned, Tanaka began to pull out a pistol from his coat; one you had, stupidly, forgotten to check for. It seemed he doubted that you were a threat, and if he could just kill Dazai, you’d be an easy target.

You moved without thinking, making the single-step distance between you and Dazai. There was a gun relaxed at his waistband, and you stole it, knowing exactly where he kept it hidden. Before Tanaka could point his own at the head of your lover, you’d acted first, aiming Dazai’s gun, your jaw tense and back straight. “Put it down.”

Tanaka, caught off guard, locked his jaw, and his fingers twisted tighter around the handle of the gun, inching towards the trigger. For a moment, he contemplated, but even without knowing the thoughts in his mind, you could read his actions.

You wouldn’t give him the opportunity to do as he wanted. Instead, you fired your own gun, digging the bullet into his fingers, shattering them, blood spattering as Tanaka dropped the pistol to the floor in a ghoulish scream.

For a second more, he writhed in pain at your own hand, once again. You held your arm taut, before letting the gun drop to your side as Dazai hummed behind you. Tanaka had fallen to his knees, tears welling up, his vision glossy as he dropped the maimed hand to his thighs.

Dazai came up beside you, smiling at you, and brushed his fingers down your arm. Slowly, he took the gun, placing it back into his waistband, his touch electric on every centimeter of your skin. “You’ve handled it beautifully, my love.” Dazai squeezed your hand, tilting his head so dark hair cleared away from his eyes. “I can take it from here.”

You nodded, and though Dazai was, by no means, pushing you out of the room, he could see how exhausted you’d become by the whole ordeal. If you wanted to leave—and you did—he wouldn’t object.

“Will you be long?” you asked, just a whisper over Tanaka’s heavy breaths of pain.

Dazai laughed easily, his breath ghosting the bridge of your nose. “Akutagawa will be here soon.” A touch lingered on your hands for a minute longer before he pulled away completely. “Then, I’m yours for the rest of the night.”

It was already late, but you’d take whatever time you could get with Dazai, even if you were drained. You nodded, and he turned away, going back towards his enemy, pulling Tanaka up roughly by his collar. Dazai’s expression changed into a man you almost didn’t recognize, if it hadn’t been for the moments that you’d had to see him shift into the underworld’s fearsome demon.

You left the room, yawning, Dazai’s voice the last thing you heard before you shut the door silently.

“Now that you’ve learned your lesson, perhaps you’ll be more willing to tell me everything you know,” he said.

Despite Dazai promising to leave once Akutagawa arrived, he’d been gone for nearly two hours, with no indication that he’d be returning anytime soon.

You waited for him in the penthouse of the Port Mafia headquarters, the home you’d come to know well in the past few years. A glass of imported wine was beside you on the nightstand, resting between a book you’d been too tired to read before bed.

You sat up, unable to fall asleep, and chewed your lip thoughtfully. It seemed ridiculous, really, for you to already miss a man that you woke up next to and fell asleep beside every night.

Still, you couldn’t help the desperation in your chest, the need to see him, to brush the mask of the Port Mafia boss away so Osamu could take his place.

You finished the wine, then headed towards the door. The room felt cold and lonely, and if Dazai wasn’t going to return soon, you’d just find someone else to bother on the lower levels of the building.

Though, just as you were about to slip on a pair of shoes, the door unlocked, swung on its hinges, and Dazai stepped through the threshold, a vision of gore and violence and every ounce the man you adored.

“Osamu,” you said, and even when you’d said his name a thousand times before, it still left your lips like a prayer. A smile formed, and you dropped your shoes, eyes sparkling, as you regarded the mess that he was in.

Dazai took one look at you and relaxed, shoulders falling as you closed the distance between the two of you. “Sorry it took so long, sweetheart,” he said, craning his taller frame down to kiss you.

You gripped the lapels of his coat, holding on tight as you pressed into him, deepening the kiss. Dazai’s bloody fingers cupped your cheeks, smearing red along your jaw, ruining your clean skin. Though, as you exhaled a sigh deep into his mouth, you couldn’t have cared less.

“I thought you said Akutagawa was going to take care of it?” you asked as Dazai released you, offering you a small, almost defeated smile.

He walked past you, towards the bathroom, feet dragging as he shrugged off his dark coat. Under the crisp top, his muscles were stiff, strained from all the stress. He wiped another hand over his face, doing little to clean up the mess of red that remained on his cheeks.

You followed him, trailing a few feet behind, feeling silly for wanting to cling to him so tightly. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of him, and you watched as Dazai remained silent, pausing in front of the mirror to regard his own appearance. He made a face in the glass as he gazed back into his own expression, sticking his hands under the faucet. The water ran in a steady stream, staining the sink a rose color as he scrubbed the blood from his fingers, his nails. There were parts of his bandages that had been soiled, and he ripped them right off, exposing pale wrists that hadn’t seen the sun in ages.

You mimicked his action, washing your hands in the second sink before scrubbing the blood from your face, clearing away the smear of maroon that he’d put there. The water shut off, briefly, and Dazai regarded you, frowning as you rid the evidence of his crime from yourself.

“I sent Akutagawa home.” Dazai finally answered your previous question and sighed, frustration evident. He stretched his hands over his head, the bones popping in one fell swoop. “Tanaka cracked right open; he really didn’t know anything.” He blinked at himself in the mirror once more, tidied his hair, then scowled. “He’s just a low man on the totem pole, and he paid for it with his life.”

Dazai seemed at odds with himself, and he drummed his nails against the countertop before patting his hands dry. The blood had been cleaned from his skin, and even though his hair was still unkempt, it was the only evidence that any wrongdoing had happened at all. Nothing but a speck of blood remained on his collar, the rest garnishing his coat instead.

You shifted, leaning against the counter. “Did you get anything out of him?”

“Names, a location.” Dazai clenched his jaw, fists tight at his sides. “He wasn’t lying, but who knows if they’re real or not. He could’ve been given fake locations. I’ve asked Ango to check on it.”

Dazai, once again, left you standing, contemplative, in the bathroom. You could hear him shuffle around in the other room; he released a small sound of relief as he stretched out his sore muscles.

When he’d finished moving around, you returned to the other room, and he was settled in the red armchair, legs spread out in front of him. Dazai rested his head against the back cushion, his eyes closed in serenity, a deep exhale expelling the tightness in his body.

It was almost a sight too serene to spoil.

“Do you want some space?” you asked, and though you’d always respect his wishes, that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You wanted to consume him completely, to press yourself against every crevice of his being and swallow him whole.

Dazai opened his eyes and blinked at you. Instead of replying, he smiled, slowly, and gestured to his thighs, sparing a glance at his knees.

Your heart pounded, launching its way up your throat, and you scrambled over yourself to crawl into his lap, straddling his thighs, the muscle strong beneath you.

Gently, he smiled at you, and brushed your hair over your shoulder to rub your neck. You let your arms rest on his shoulders, and slowly, you removed the bandage from his eye, hating whenever he tried to hide any part of himself from you.

You waited for him to protest, but he relented, and let you kiss his forehead, the very darkest parts of himself on display for you alone. It was hard not to collapse under the weight of your love for him.

You discarded the bandages, tossing them onto the table as Dazai tapped a pattern in the crevices of your skin.

For a moment, neither of you said a word. You noted every feature of his that you loved so dearly, and Dazai just watched you study him, tried hard not to smile against your lips when you kissed him.

If only he could see how beautiful he was, surely, he would understand that he deserved a life so much better than the one he’d been dealt. That someone with a smile brighter than a dying star shouldn’t have it taken away by years of endless anguish.

Finally, Dazai spoke, whispering your name in a tone he never used on any word but that one. “You don’t have to do this anymore if you don’t want to.”

“Hm?” you asked, tilting your head, so distracted by the endless galaxy within his eyes.

Dazai huffed, placing a possessive hand on your hip. His thumb grazed the bone and you shivered, smiling at him in confusion.

“Sweetheart, I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re obligated to do something just because you’re my wife.” He looked past you, an uncertainty beneath his words that he was ashamed of. “If you don’t want to take on any more assignments—"

“I told you already, Osamu,” you began, brushing the hair at the back of his neck that was hidden beneath the collar. “I don’t mind.”

“I know, but—” Dazai hesitated, his gaze steady on the doors behind you, the ones that led to your bedroom. Somehow, he seemed to think all the answers would be there, a script written out for him to recite to you. “Chuuya brought it up to me earlier. He said that I’m…” Dazai swallowed the words, shaking his head. “Look, it doesn’t matter. I just want you to promise me that you know if you want to stop, you can stop. Even if you wanted to quit the Port Mafia altogether, I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”

You smiled, kissing the wrinkle between his eyebrows in the hope that it would ease the anxiety in his expression. The tension was such an unusual thing for anyone but you to see, as Dazai had such trouble revealing his vulnerabilities to the world.

“I promise.” You swept your thumb over his lip, watching as it bounced right back into place, so soft and lovely. “I just don’t want to quit.” You leaned back on his lap, so you were able to see the entirety of his face.

Dazai’s eyebrows drew together once more, putting that worry right back on his appearance, and a part of you hated that of all the things he had to be stressed about, it was something as silly as you not wanting to quit your job.

“Why?” Dazai asked, tilting his chin, searching the depths of your soul for an answer that would appease him. “I don’t understand. You hate them; you tell me you hate them every time they try and lay a finger on you.”

He wasn’t wrong, certainly not about something like that. You loathed that men looked at you like you were something that they could just steal away, like they were entitled to the subtle way that they brushed your hip in passing, caressed your back when they walked behind you.

You just didn’t hate everything about the work you’d been doing. After all, it was your idea.

“I just don’t want to,” you said, looking over his shoulder to the open curtains, the bright expanse of Yokohama laid out before you. Twinkling star lights from skyscrapers and the port in the distance. “It doesn’t matter.”

It was your home, your city, and it always would be. You wouldn’t let Dazai die, wouldn’t let anyone take him from you—including himself. You’d continue to do whatever it took to protect that. Whether or not you used your appearance to achieve those ends didn’t matter. When it was all said and done, Dazai’s enemies would be dead, and you’d still have him to come home to.

“It matters to me.”

You shook your head, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. There were a million different ways you could’ve explained it, but none that were intelligent. “It’s embarrassing, ‘samu.”

Dazai laughed, a genuine noise, and kissed your shoulder as you sighed, relaxing into him once more. “I can’t think of anything about you that could possibly be embarrassing.”

You held his gaze, wishing for him to relent, to just give up and let you have this one. Instead, he just smiled back patiently, hoping you’d reveal another part of yourself to him as he slowly traced your hard collarbone.

Those pools behind his eyes were too distracting, the thumb on your neck dangerously close to your throbbing pulse. You swallowed, letting him feel every movement as your throat bobbed up and down.

“I guess,” you said shyly, “I like it. I like leading on your enemies, letting them think that they could possibly have a chance with someone like me. I like the look on their faces when they realize they’ve been made a fool of, that the girl who they wanted so badly belongs so completely to the boss of the Port Mafia.”

Dazai studied you for a moment as you shrugged the revelation off, his deep brown eyes darting over every crevice of your face. “You want to make them jealous of me?”

“Maybe.” Your cheeks heated, and though you’d been together for years, loved him for even longer, you still shied under the weight of your own desire for him. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want them all to know that I’m as much the boss of the Port Mafia as you.” You wound your arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him, the only person you’d ever need in the dangerous world. “They’re blind to their desire, and they refuse to see that I have complete control over them.” You smiled, lazily, fondly. “Don’t they know that this is my city, too?”

Dazai’s strength made an appearance then, and he gripped your cheeks, holding you with a spiraled mix of possession and affection. “It is,” he whispered, ghosting his lips across your own, “and I’d burn it all down before I let anyone take it from you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at his deepened tone, the seriousness that drew on his normally playful inflection. You grew hot, and a twist of desire started deep within you, spreading down easily, slowly turning your thoughts into a muddled mess.

“I know,” you said, trying to keep your words steady as Dazai drew lazy circles up and down your sides. “Everyone knows.” You met his eyes, soft, yet dark, clouded with a longing you weren’t unfamiliar to. “The woman who brought them to their knees is still nothing more than a simple fool for Osamu Dazai.” You inhaled drawing your fingers to his open collar, the crisp bandages around his chest. “What could they ever do to deserve that kind of devotion?”

Dazai waited, watched your smaller hand run across his neck, his smirk slowly growing on his lips. “I’m a lucky man, indeed,” he said, drawing the words out slow and lazily. He tipped your chin down to him, his smile displaying the almost sharpened points of his canines. Slender fingers caressed your hipbone, pressing you farther down onto his thigh.

You let out a small sound, not taking your eyes off of his as his expression grew wily, and the slip you wore slowly began to rise up your thighs, exposing the softer skin of your leg.

“I admit, I can’t stand that everyone in this city wants you so fucking bad.” Dazai sunk his lips to your neck, kissing the space between your shoulder and jaw. “But I can’t blame them. My beautiful angel.” He smiled under your jaw, gripping your hips harder, forcing you to drag against his thigh. A puff of air left your throat as Dazai grinned, spiking your arousal. “It’s for the best, isn’t it? I’ve ruined you for anyone else.”

Your eyes flashed; Dazai bounched his leg, just once, his eyes shining, every move calculated. He’d always known exactly how to touch you, and he’d never forget, never stop enjoying the way you jerked so easily under his palm, the way you were already trying to rub yourself against him.

“Osamu,” you began, desperate for just a moment of friction, to feel his rigid muscle drag against your cunt. You wanted him so badly that your heart stumbled over itself, all the love you held, locked up there and looking for a way out.

He made a sound of disapproval, holding you still with a tight grip on your hips. His fingers dug into the bone, but it did little to ease your aching need for him.

“See?” Dazai’s kisses were light as he whispered against the shell of your ear, the sound nothing more than a breath of air. “I barely have to touch you and you’re a whimpering mess.”

You swallowed, tugging at the hair at the base of his scalp, trying to remain steady, if only for him to give you what you wanted.

Dazai seemed to be in a generous mood, worn from the previous mission, and he was grinning lazily, two fingers slipping under your dress.

His grip loosened, and you shifted, letting him pull on the strap of your panties, drag them down your thighs, over your knees, to discard beside the chair. Already, there was evidence of your desire, a spot of wetness obvious against the red satin.

He let the garment hang between his fingers before he looked back at you, watching as it softly fell to the floor. “If only they knew how easy it was to get you wet,” he said, shrewdly, “they’d want you twice as much as they did before.”

You let out a soft whimper, trying to direct his beautiful hands back between your thighs. Though, Dazai kept his fingers away, and in an act of desperation, you pressed your forehead to his, conveying every ounce of your affection for him.

“Osamu,” you breathed, blinking into his warm irises, a shade of brown that had easily become your favorite. “I’m so crazy about you.” You kissed his cheeks, smearing your lip gloss all over the skin he’d just wiped clean. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all night. Everyone in Yokohama watches me, but I ache for you.”

His eyes flashed, pleased, and he relented, nudging his thumb to the inner most part of your thigh. The smile was still mocking, but he gave you at least some relief; Dazai let you sink back down on his thigh, the pressure just enough to have you clawing your nails into his chest.

He kissed your nose, but kept you where you were, perched on the middle of his leg and much too far from his cock. “What would you ever do if I wasn’t here to take care of you, hm, darling?"

You softened; even if his gaze was taunting, there was utter devotion between his dilated pupils.

All those men who fell for your act may have been complete fools, but Dazai was even worse off than them: he was a fool in love.

“It’s so hard not to crawl into your arms every time you’re around,” you admitted, grabbing the buckle of his belt to undo it with a clank. The mere sound, the feel of the leather between your fingers, nearly had you salivating. “I’m stronger than a lot of men in Yokohama.” Your features contorted then, eyes vulnerable as you looked up at him through delicate lashes, no longer a vision of authority, but of someone who desperately wanted to be taken care of. “Not you, though.”

Dazai’s grip on you relaxed, and something in his eyes shifted, lips parting as an exhale left them. He said nothing as you removed the belt, and instead, let himself sink deeper into the cushion, bearing your weight.

Hastily, you pulled down the zipper of his slacks. The weight of his heavy cock in your hands was so familiar. You stroked him gently, watching for any reaction, and while his face remained steady, you could sense the change in his heartbeat.

“I don’t need you to be strong around me,” Dazai said. His voice had deepened, your name leaving his lips, raspy by the end of his sentence. “You can fall apart if you want to, my love.” His erection grew slowly in your palm, and he brought you closer, your bare, soaked cunt dragging against his thigh. “I’ll always be here to put you back together.”

You smiled, flushing as he hardened, his breath growing uneven. When you had him leaking within your palm, you shifted forward on your knees, grinning at his reddened cheeks. Dazai’s eyes drifted towards your chest, just inches from his face.

Uncertain, you hesitated, even though you wanted him, needed him with every fiber of your being. It was an unfamiliar position. He could take control of the situation at any moment, but you weren’t usually the one looming over him.

“Osamu—”

“What?” he released with a sigh, and in one swift motion, lifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. “You walk around my nightclub in those dresses I buy you, force those pretty tits into other men’s faces, but now you’re too shy to fuck your husband?”

You made a face, knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of you, and if only to prove a point, you sunk down on him, your folds slick. Dazai slid into you easily, a sinful noise breaking the silence between you as he grinned. “I’ll f-fuck you,” you stuttered, swallowing under the heat of his watchful eyes. “It’s just…” Your words failed again as his cock went deeper in you, your focus entirely on your own pleasure.

“Just what?” He stopped you for a moment, planting you on his thighs, his cock still straining, filling you. Glaring, vibrating with need, you opened your eyes, lips parting as he whispered against your mouth “Finish your sentence, sweetheart.”

“It’s not my fault, Osamu,” you said, on the edge of a whine, squirming within his hold. “I can’t help that they stare.”

He laughed, then, and it was just a brush against your swollen mouth, the one he kept coming back to. “They can stare all they want,” Dazai said, tilting your chin up. “As long as they know who you belong to.”

Finally, he let you go, his hands tracing the edges of your knees, and you started a slow, steady pace, gasping as you held onto his neck tightly. He bowed his head into your collarbone, and kissed you once, before leaning back lazily, watching you take and take and take.

“Doing so good, angel,” he said, watching you with such a passion that it was distracting, as he let his palms rest simply on your thighs. “You always look so pretty stuffed full of my cock, don’t you?”

“Feels so good,” you muttered.

“I know.” Dazai seemed too devilish with his dark hair fanned out against the red chair, grinning in a way that twisted up your insides, sweat beading down your forehead as you tried to reach your orgasm.

You were hot with his piercing gaze upon you, but he didn’t bother to move his hands, did nothing to even pretend like he was fazed. You sunk down faster, heart racing, as the muscles of your hips strained, burned. Already, you were growing tired, sleepy from a full evening, but still so desperate to come around him.

You leaned forward, trying to angle your body, gain some relief from the position. Though it did little, and instead you were left sighing in frustration, wishing that he would do anything, instead of just look at you with a lust blown smile.

With every moment, the pain began to grow, the ache in your legs far too much to give way to pleasure. You started back at Dazai, frustrated, eyes glossy with need.

Dazai laughed at you then; it wasn’t quite mocking, but it wasn’t kind either. “Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”

Frustrated and impatient as you dripped down your own thighs, you grabbed his throat, thrusting his head into the back of the chair.

Dazai, eyes wide with surprise, stopped smiling as you curled your hand around his neck, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Are you just going to sit there, Osamu?” you said, your words high-pitched and desperate. “Or are you going to—”

The end of your sentence was cut off by him gripping the back of your hair, smashing your lips into his own. The hand on his neck fell away, drifting to the lapels of his bloodstained collar, as he brought you down hard on his cock, hitting a place deep inside you that you hadn’t been able to reach with your own strength.

Dazai’s fingertips left bruises on your skin as he devoured the inside of your mouth, bringing you down over and over, stretching your walls with each movement.

“So pretty and desperate for me,” Dazai laughed, but he was breathless, his own tenacity crumbling from adoration. “Can’t do anything by yourself, can you, baby?” His kisses were sloppy as he dragged them across your neck, tongue grazing the sharp vein under your ear.

“No, but you said—” you were losing your breath and your words. “You said you’d take care of me. I don’t want to cum all on my own, ‘samu.”

Dazai groaned, his gaze drifting down to the space between your bodies, where you were sucking him back in, your own body aligned with your heart, never wanting to let him go.

“Fuck,” he said, slamming you back down on his thighs, his eyes hazy with love. “Of course I’ll take care of you.” One hand guided your hips as the other curled around your jaw, setting the pace with half his strength. “You’re my whole world.” His words stuttered, aching cock twitching inside you. “I’m nothing without you, understand?”

You nodded, but you weren’t quite thinking straight, the words a jumbled mess when they entered your mind. “I love you,” you said, gasping the end of his name. “I love you, Osamu, need more.”

Dazai breathed, just as heavily, softening as he regarded you. He’d always loved the look on your face as you came apart. “You take it so well,” he said eyelids fluttering over hazy eyes, and he kissed your forehead. You dragged your hands all over his chest, just wanting to touch any part of him. “Wish you could see yourself. You’re so beautiful.”

You groaned, pulling him closer, until there was nowhere left to go, surrounded completely by Dazai; the smell of him, the taste of him. “Say it back,” you muttered, “say you love me too.”

He choked on a laugh, and the lewd sounds of your wet arousal were loud as he came in and out of you. “I love you, angel, you know how much I love you.” Dazai kissed you, then, and your heart sped at how hoarse his voice had become, how easily it was for you to make the most powerful man in Yokohama fall apart at the seams. “You’ve got a pretty ring to prove it, don’t you? I don’t want anyone but you. I never will.”

“Come inside me.” Your eyes squeezed shut as his cock reached impossibly deep within you, stretching you, your legs shaking as you tried to ignore the dull ache within your tense muscles. Tears sprang to your eyes, coating your lashes; it was almost devastating how much you loved him. “Please. Feel so full, ‘samu.”

“Yeah?” He reached between you to play with your clit, and you were so close, crying out a broken moan as he touched you. “Need to remind everyone that you’re my girl, hm?” He knew just how you liked to be touched, how easy it was to get you to come when he fucked you like you needed. “Want me to put a baby in you next, sweetheart? Shit.” He curled his fingers, bruising your mouth as he stole the oxygen from your chest. “Everyone would know then, wouldn’t they? How could they doubt you’re mine when you’re carrying my child.”

You cried out, then, breaking, spasming around his cock as you fell onto his chest. Dazai said your name, kissed the top of your head, but you were too full of love for him. You breathed heavily as he brought you down once more, twitching against him from the ache in your sensitive cunt.

A moment later, Dazai jerked, then came inside you, spilling his warm cum against your folds, the white ropes dripping down your thighs, staining his dark, wrinkled slacks. Slowly, he pulled out of you, letting you rest on his chest as you breathed, your legs sore. A gentle touch ran up and down your spine as Dazai wrapped his arms tight around you, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“God, you’re perfect,” Dazai said, and his voice sounded almost broken, devastatingly emotional. “You can’t ever leave me, okay, angel? I need you right here by my side.” Lips grazed your temple, so sweetly, gently. “What’s the point of all this if I can’t share it with you?”

You smiled, resting your head in the crook of his neck, eyes full of tears as you kissed him. “I’m not going anywhere, Osamu. I promise.”

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tag list: @satohruu (hannah i planned this one bc of your tags on my last pm dazai fic HDSFHSFH) @cha0thicpisces

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