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strwbrryeyes · 3 months

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𖦹°｡⋆ haikyuu boys as my breakup playlist pt.2

⟡ featuring: osamu, ushijima, sakusa, bokuto

⟡ cw: angst, relationship neglect?, sad bokuto</3

⟡ an: i listen to a lot of break up songs. some of these songs are newer btw. characters dont prioritize reader is basically the unofficial theme for this one except for bo bc he can never do wrong in my eyes.

⟡ part one, part three

⟡ miya osamu: ghost of you - 5 seconds of summer

when osamu opened onigiri miya, you started seeing less of each other. you missed him and he said would try to spend more time with you. and he did. osamu started coming home earlier and you both fell more in love with each other and it felt like things were starting to look up! but after a month, osamu started to spend more time at the onigiri miya again. by now, you knew what as more improtant to him and it wasn't you. but you gave him one last chance. your anniversary was coming up and you knew that osamu would never miss your tradition of going to the diner you two went to on your first date. but when the day came and you were at home sitting alone at midnight, you had finally lost all hope and started packing a some of your things so you could leave and come back at a later time to pick up the rest of your stuff. the next morning, osamu didn't think much of the empty house, he thought you were just at work until he saw a note you left behind telling him you were done. telling him that you were done coming in second place to the restaurant when all you wanted was to see your lover and spend time with him. now osamu stood in the middle of the once shared house, surrounded by everything that reminded him of you, crying because he knew he fucked up.

⟡ ushijima wakatoshi: sand - dove cameron

ushijima has always been a stoic man, everyone knows this. he was never good at expressing his emotions, not even to you. at the beginning of the relationship, everything felt perfect, his presence was warm, and he made you feel like the only person in the world. you knew that even though he was no good at expressing his love for you or conveying any other emotions for that matter, that ushijima would always be there for you when you needed him most. that was until you realized that the ‘honeymoon phase’, had come to an end for you and the star volleyball player. at first you thought it was just because you had gotten used to each other so nothing was really exciting or new in the relationship. you kept thinking this until one day when ushijima said he needed to talk to you. dread filled your heart and mind afraid of what he had to say. later that night, ushijima came over to your place and you both sat down. “i can’t love you the way you want me to love you, yn” were the first words that came out of his mouth. you didn’t know what to say but you managed to mutter out a small why. ushijima then stood up and walked towards your front door about to leave but not before saying “i can’t let you get between me and volleyball right now, i’m sorry.” and with that, ushijima left. he left barely leaving you with anything while you had given him nearly all of you over the last year.

⟡ sakusa kiyoomi: i miss myself - renforshort

sakusa isn't the controlling type but it still felt like you had to walk on eggshells when you were around him. you figured out that he had a somewhat short temper at the beginning of your relationship but you just thought that that was because sakusa felt the need to keep his guard up. everyone assumes that the only thing sakusa would freak out about is cleanliness but there was so much more that you had to be aware of with him like the tone of your voice, how loud you speak, what you talk about, whatever you can think of- you had to be careful. even though he would never explicitly tell you to knock something off or to shut up, you could see it in the way he looks at you with his cold, dark eyes. of course, you didn’t think it was a big deal. not until you were hanging out with one of your friends who said that you don’t seem the way you used to be. that you seemed like you were more on edge than usual. this kept you up at night for a week. throughout the week you thought back to how you used to be before you started dating sakusa, you were more outgoing and vibrant, you found joy in the little things but now you find yourself overthinking every little thing you do. finally, you worked up the courage to talk to sakusa. you told sakusa that you felt like you couldn’t be yourself around him anymore and that you just wanted clarification on what you should be careful about so he could be more comfortable (again, thinking more about him than yourself). but sakusa only scoffed at you and told you that if you wanted him to be comfortable to get out of his life. so you did but you were too far gone and are no longer able to be who you used to be.

⟡ bokuto koutarou: angels like you - miley cyrus

bokuto is the biggest sweetheart on planet earth. he’s never done you wrong but you can’t help but feel like you weren’t enough for him. bokuto has always reassured you that you were everything that hes ever wanted and needed but no matter what you couldn’t shake the feeling. everytime you would be upset, you would distance yourself from everyone including bokuto. this made him sad, i mean all he wanted to do was help his loved one cheer up but he was only left confused when you wouldn’t let him. bokuto would often bring you flowers whenever he noticed something was upsetting you and you loved it everytime but it only left a stinging pain in your chest because you hated making him worry. you knew he would have his own mood swings, but you didn’t want to be the cause of one of them. it was your biggest fear, that you would make him sad one day. bokuto was the ball of energy and happiness while you saw yourself as a thunderstorm, ready to pour down on everyone’s parade. you knew bokuto was too good for you and hurt you to admit but you had to face the truth sooner or later before you end up hurting him more than necessary. the day you broke things off with him was the worst day of bokuto’s life to date. you cried into eachother’s arms for what seemed like hours, he begged you to stay, he told you that he wanted to help you with anything you needed, he didn’t want you to go through hardships alone. bokuto lost the battle and accepted that this was for the better for you. bokuto could only hope that you would come back to him one day because he would take you back in a heartbeat.

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noosayog · 5 months

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002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!”

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly.

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile?

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says.

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble.

“True. But he is an idiot.”

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale.

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.”

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter.

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?”

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?”

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen.

“Why not?”

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you.

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl.

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently.

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in.

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.”

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps.

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating.

“So, found a guy to take you out?”

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have.

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.”

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this:

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases.

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both.

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?”

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation.

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim.

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant.

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child.

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!”

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently.

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.”

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice.

“‘Samu…”

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.”

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you.

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted.

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight.

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on.

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular.

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter.

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.”

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before.

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.”

“Dude, nice try,” you had said.

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night.

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break.

“I’ll walk with ya.”

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit.

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time.

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight.

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway.

“I’m onto ya,” he starts.

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.”

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you.

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face.

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself.

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had.

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway.

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs.

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?”

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes.

“Who?” you mumble.

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air.

“I don’t know… I just…”

“Are ya still in love with my brother?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Osamu raises his brows.

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.”

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?”

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off.

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin.

“I wanna get him back,” you admit.

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!”

“Huh?”

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-”

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.”

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation.

“Osamu…”

“Am I wrong?”

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before.

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used.

His question goes unanswered.

–

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu.

It doesn’t make you miss him any less.

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around.

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision.

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock.

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth.

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?”

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter.

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-”

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say.

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-”

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu.

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system.

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone.

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.”

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks.

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act.

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory.

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do.

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-”

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out.

“Hey, ‘Samu!”

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face.

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope.

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy.

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you.

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly.

“You just…?” he prompts.

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself.

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.”

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?”

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you.

“And I like you so much, Osamu.”

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap.

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?”

He stops stroking your hair.

“What, ya don’t like it?”

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk.

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him.

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time.

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?”

You nod shyly.

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”

“I want it.”

“Alright. C’mere then.”

You oblige.

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck.

You nod.

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?”

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle.

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.”

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth.

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs.

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

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rishiguro · 1 year

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HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN YOU CATCH THEM CHEATING ON YOU

ft. sakusa; osamu; sugawara; matsukawa; yamaguchi

a/n: i want more angst

warnings: cheating, obviously

sighing he sat down beside you on the couch, not even frowning when you moved away. “i’m sorry you found out like this,” SAKUSA said curtly. “but not sorry that you’ve done it in the first place, huh?” he clenched his jaw, staring at the clean floor between his naked feet. his silence told you everything you needed to know. he was always aware of what he was doing every time he was with someone, aware of the possible consequences and he never really cared enough to stop. but as he saw you leave him behind, a bag over your shoulder and not even looking back at him, the guilt started to sink in, finally realizing what he had given up on for a couple nights of fun.

OSAMU ran his hand through his hair as he groaned in frustration. “i’m sorry!” he yelled out again, “i don’t know what else you want me to say! tell me and i will, i will do fucking everything okay?” you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. “maybe you shouldn’t have gone out to fuck someone, did you think about that?” you yelled back angrily. “i know i shouldn’t have! i should’ve just broken up with you, i know! you were never here, i didn’t even know what else to do!” you didn’t say anything after, instead effective ending the conversation by slamming the door behind you. and every night he thought back to this conversation, replaying what he said over and over in his head, he didn’t know why he blamed you for what he did.

SUGAWARA wished he had an answer for you. you, the person he claimed to love the most, only to betray them in the worst way possible. he couldn’t even look you in the eyes as you kept pleading, almost begging for an answer, only wanting to know why he did what he did. after long minutes of you asking over and over with tears welling up in your eyes, he broke, yelling whatever came to his mind. “they were different! just… just different” he turned away as he continued. “they make me feel so wanted, they give me everything i want, no matter what” he could only hear you chuckling sadly. “i gave you everything i had, but that wasn’t enough?”

MATSUKAWA knew that he couldn’t fool you forever, it was only a matter of time until this blew up in his face. you noticed how he suddenly became clingier again, louder, and seemingly happier. you hadn’t expected that it was because of somebody else though. “i didn’t know how to tell you,” was all that he could say with his lips pressed into a thin line, “i still love you it’s just—“ he took a deep breath, turning around, not wanting to see the look on your face. “i’m not in love with you. i don’t want to be with you anymore” he kept telling himself that it was alright, that he did what he had to just to be happy. but after seeing your facial expression, so full of hurt, he wasn’t sure anymore.

you couldn’t stand being in the same room as YAMAGUCHI anymore, constantly telling him to get out and leave you alone, but he wouldn’t listen. instead he trailed behind you like a lost puppy or a duckling behind his mother, fingers itching to hold on to you by the hem of your top like he has done countless times when he got overwhelmed. he kept apologizing, always repeating the same few words over and over, whimpering when you ripped yourself away from him. he didn’t care about what you would say or do to him, telling himself that he would endure everything just to keep you by his side, praying that you would forgive him his one mistake. he swears that this was all that it was, a mistake — but the chats in his phone say differently.

reblog to take revenge on them

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dazaiscum · 3 months

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When everything goes wrong.....

you know that one day when everything just goes so wrong in your life. could even be the littlest of things till eventually, a small incident causes everything to come breaking down. everything you've kept inside comes pouring out like water from a broken container. flows out even when you try to stop it. well, that's what happened to you today.

it started small. your clothes weren't ironed, then your coffee machine broke, then you started feeling the soreness in your throat so you couldn't even enjoy the coffee you paid 7 dollars for but it was all fine till you got late to work, had to run up 5 floors because the elevator broke down and even got scolded by your boss and just when you thought nothing could get worse, you reached home only to find out your leftovers had been eaten and while storming up to your room, the incident happen. the one small incident that triggers the breakdown. the door handle accidentally scraped against your hand, scratching it and that was it.

You try to hold it together, but inside, you feel like a busted container about to overflow. All the emotions and frustrations you've been hiding inside start pouring out like an unstoppable torrent. You try to fight it, but it's just too overwhelming.

you broke down and cried. cried so so hard but still the heavy feeling in your chest just wouldn't feel light, until of course, he came. your loving boyfriend.

he scooped you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest while running his fingers through your hair and whispering sweet nothings and reassuring words in your ear. the sweet sound of his voice, ringing like hymns in your ears. feeling the glide of his fingertips over your arm, stroking it. his fleeting touches over your face, cupping your cheeks, pressing kisses on the top of your head, holding you protectively against him.

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. Everything is fine now. I'm here, and I'll keep you safe. You know I love you, my sweetest girl."

Dazai, Simon, PRICE, GOJO, ranpo, aizawa, Nanami, CHUUYA, konig, SOAP, shoto, bakugo, MIDORIYA, wakasa, SHINCHIRO, ALEJANDRO.

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kentopedia · 8 months

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˚☽˚｡⋆ shining like gunmetal

dazai x f!reader, 3.0k words

summary — dazai comes home late, covered in someone's blood

contents — pm reader & pm boss dazai, references to violence / torture lol, sfw !!, the plot is basically cleaning blood off dazai

notes — i thought this would help me get pm dazai out of my system, but i fear i may have to write another nsfw piece for that

Each turn of the clock became longer and longer as you watched the seconds tick down, signaling that another minute had passed. The sun had long since set; your dining room was illuminated only by candles, creating a romantic ambiance throughout the penthouse.

Across from you, an empty seat sat, its usual inhabitant absent. An array of food scattered across the table, far too much for just one person to eat. Perhaps, even, there would be leftovers for days after.

Your housekeeper, Izumi, set the last plate of hot food on the table, her eyes nervous as she flitted back to you, then to the spot where Dazai usually sat. While her usual duties did not include cooking, you’d recruited her that evening, hopeful that she could help you prepare all of Dazai’s favorite dishes.

You'd just wanted to do something special for your beloved, and he wasn’t even there to enjoy it.

Steam lingered on each of the platters, but it was quickly wafting away, evaporating into the cool air of the Yokohama evening. All of your hard work over the past few hours would seem insignificant if the Port Mafia's boss didn’t return before the meal cooled completely.

You drummed your fingers against the table, trying hard not to give in to your annoyance.

“He’s late.” You spoke the words to no one in particular, an observation that anyone could discern with their own two eyes.

Still, you kept your gaze harsh on the empty seat, as if willing Dazai to materialize from thin air.

The comment still seemed to shake Izumi from a trance, even if it had been nothing more than the obvious. She twisted her fingers together, flattening her top farther over her waist band. Although she was one of the only people in the mafia that saw the softer side of Dazai, the one he reserved just for you, she was still overwhelmingly intimidated by him.

“I’m sorry, miss,” she said, even though you always reminded her that it was fine to address you by your name. “I can take it back into the kitchen and—”

You stopped her with a sigh, shaking your head before letting it drop into your hands. “No need. I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” you assured her, but it was already ten minutes past seven—the hour that Dazai had said he’d be back for dinner.

Usually, you wouldn’t have minded. You knew that Dazai was busy, that the tasks piled onto him were unending and overwhelming. Even though you hated seeing him overwork himself, it was always alright. He never took his stress out on you and always showered you with affection upon his return from a long day.

Tonight, though, he’d promised that he’d be there, right on time, for dinner. You agreed upon that hour beforehand, and he still hadn’t showed.

Izumi looked at your disappointed expression, knowing how much the small moments with Dazai meant to you. You never doubted that you were the most important person in his life, and you never would.

Despite that steadfast belief, you still ached when his work began to cut in on his time with you.

“Give him a couple more minutes,” Izumi said, smiling as she squeezed your arm gently. She was just a few years older than you, but there was a motherly glint to her eyes when she regarded you, her affection just barely veiled.

Over the past few years, you’d persuaded her to see you as more than just her employer, at the very least. There would always been a thin shield of professionalism between you, but now, you considered her something of a friend.

You dispelled all your irritation on a steady exhale and did as she suggested, waiting five more minutes. The heat began to dissipate from the cooling food, the plates and bowls no longer hot to the touch.

The time reached 7:15. Izumi returned from the kitchen again with a frown, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?” She asked, sympathetic to your spoiled night, her usually bright eyes dimming.

You stood, the chair screeching as you pushed it away. Though it seemed like such a small issue compared to all the other dilemmas you’d faced with Dazai, the burning desire of tears began to make its way up your throat.

You shook your head, standing taller, trying to remind yourself that someone proud enough to stand next to Dazai wouldn’t cry about something so inconsequential.

“I’ll take it to my room, if you don’t mind,” you said, and Izumi nodded, smiling at you, softly, but without the pity that she knew you hated.

She made her way to your seat, to gather up a plate to bring to you in a moment. Though, she didn’t get far in her task, and you didn’t make it out of the room. Seconds later, Dazai was pushing open the door, his footsteps sharp in the otherwise quiet hall.

You looked up at him, frowning, a complaint already parting your lips as you assessed his appearance.

Dazai’s shirt was undone, his hair a mess, stands stuck to his forehead, creasing at unusual ends. He was covered in blood from head to toe, the deep color staining his crisp white top. It had splattered against his cheek, his suit, even on his shoes, creating an intimidating vision of gore. The bandages around his wrists had loosened, soaked a muddy brown from the oxidation. Dazai’s tie had also been discarded, the dark silk peeking out of his pocket.

Despite the violence of his appearance, his eyes were soft as he headed to you, unbothered by anything else in the room. “I’m so sorry I’m late, my love,” he apologized profusely, his voice low and gentle, eyes crestfallen in a way that had you forgiving him on the spot.

Still, you pinned him with your gaze, letting him feel every second of those fifteen minutes you'd believed that he’d forgotten his promise. The distance between you felt cold, even when there was hardly any of it between you.

“You told me you’d be here,” you said with a frown. The food had continued to cool. All you’d wanted was to give him an ounce of kindness in his world of endless hurt.

“I know.” Bloodied, delicate fingers were on your elbow, barely grazing your skin as he attempted to ease you into him. “I really am sorry. I got caught up with something.”

You were no stranger to his definition of something.

Dazai began to lean in, hopeful that he could erase your worries with a kiss, but you held an arm out, keeping him away.

“Don’t kiss me with blood on your face,” you said, the bite only reaching the end of your sentence, even if it didn’t fully reflect your emotions. A desperate desire to be near him battled every move you made.

“It was an apology kiss.” Dazai's bottom lip curled into a pout.

You refused to be swayed by the vulnerability in his wide brown eyes. “I don’t want it.”

He glowered for a moment longer, trying to topple your pride. When he got nowhere, he gestured towards your seat, hoping you'd take your place once more.

“Fine,” he said dramatically. "I’ll pretend that didn’t hurt my feelings.”

You wrinkled your brow, displeased by the insinuation that you would carry on as normal.

Wearily, Dazai leaned against the chair, and waited. When you did nothing, he pushed it back in, eyeing you skeptically. “Do you not want to eat anymore?” He asked, frowning. It seemed he was not upset, but unsure of where you stood on the matter.

You made a face. “I can’t sit across the table from you and have a cheerful dinner conversation while you’ve got someone else’s blood coating your entire body.”

Dazai looked down, as if only realizing for the first time that he was stained ruby red. “The food will get cold, darling.”

“You should’ve been on time, then.” It came out more clipped than you meant it to, and Dazai just stared back, his expression terse as you communicated silently.

Izumi, finally, made her presence known as she cleared her throat, directing both of your attentions back to her. “I can warm it,” she said, darting her eyes away when Dazai’s piercing gaze reached her. “If you’d like.”

Dazai began to object, but you spoke over him, knowing his abrasive words would only upset her. Instead, you laced your fingers with his to drag him out of the dining room. “Thank you, Izumi. We’ll only be a minute.”

You shuttled him into the bathroom, and Dazai remained uncharacteristically quiet, gauging your mood as you shut the door behind the two of you.

“Sit,” you said, perching him at the edge of the sink. Dazai blinked, but said nothing. His long legs stretched against the cabinets, feet reaching the floor, even as he rested his weight on the countertop.

You maneuvered around the bathroom, opening cabinets and shutting drawers, feeling Dazai's watchful eyes on you.

“You look beautiful,” he said, smiling, allowing his infatuation to consume him completely, now that you were alone. “As always. That dress looks particularly stunning on you, though. You should wear it more often.” He tried to lure you in by the waist, but you dodged him once more, letting him huff in annoyance.

"Thank you," you said, barely above a whisper, and left him sitting in the bathroom alone.

Hastily, you returned to your bedroom, rummaging through his closet for a clean top. Though he had so many of the same styles, you settled on a silk, black button-up, one that would pair nicely with your own evening gown.

When you returned, Dazai was leaning against the mirror, eyes closed, the dirtied and discarded bandages ripped from his face.

Over the past few weeks, his hair had grown longer, curling around his jaw and over his eyebrows, thick and tangled from whatever damage he’d inflicted before coming home to you.

Yet, you softened at the sight of him so open, wishing you could take even an ounce of that stress off his shoulders.

As he breathed, evenly and slowly, you ran a washcloth under the water, warming it. You could feel Dazai’s eyes on you as you hummed, busying yourself with the task at hand.

“I can’t tell if you’re actually mad at me or not,” he said, and though he forced out a laugh, the concern in his eyes was more real than he wanted you to believe. “I really am sorry.”

It was almost amusing that this was the man everyone in the city feared. When people looked at Dazai, it was never with affection, never with the deepest humanity within your own heart. Even when he’d always had so much love to give, just nowhere to put it until he'd met you.

Perhaps, in another universe, life had been kinder to him.

You exhaled and relaxed, offering him the smallest of smiles. The wash cloth foamed with soap as you poured it, a fresh aroma of honey and vanilla fusing into the space between you.

“I’m not mad, Osamu,” you said, and he visibly relaxed, hooking his ankles around yours while you stood between his thighs. “I was more disappointed than anything. I hate missing out on time with you.” You frowned and brushed the hair off his forehead, tucking longer strands behind his ears. “Will you take a break every once in a while?”

Dazai melted under your soft touch, preening with a cheeky grin. “Of course I will.” He brushed his thumb over your cheeks, dark eyelashes fanning the sharp bones of his face as he stared, astonished by your care. “I’ve been busy this week, and I apologize. Just say the word, and I’m yours for a day, a week, a month.” He exhaled, unsteadily. “All you have to do is ask.”

You smiled, and though you wouldn't ask for so much time with him, not when things were so hectic with the mafia, it was nice to know that you could.

Slowly, you ran the cloth over the splattered blood, wiping it off inch by inch. His skin tone returned to normal, the deep red stain erasing.

“What happened this time?”

Dazai sighed, dropping his chin to his chest, releasing every ounce of cruelty from his being. It was so hard to reconcile the two sides of him. He was sweet to you, caring and gentle. But you’d seen him when he was out of your embrace, faced with an enemy, a subordinate that hadn’t followed rules. He so swiftly morphed into someone that was cruel, merciless, offering them a smile only in mockery.

“Some idiot was leaking information to another group,” Dazai said, tracing patterns on your hips. “If he would’ve been smart, he would’ve realized he never had access to anything of substance. I don’t know why risking his position with us was worth some extra pocket money.”

You frowned. “It took you this long to figure out his plans?” It seemed impossible that anyone could have something to hold over Dazai.

He laughed darkly, no humor within in. “I had a few eyes on him, but I was waiting for some definitive proof. He’s been here for quite a while, and he questioned why he never promoted.”

Dazai rolled his eyes, never understanding how people could be so foolish, could let emotions rule their decisions over logic.

You nodded, understanding as you wiped his lips clean, erasing all traces of blood from his pores. Once his skin was fresh, he leaned forward, capturing you in a kiss that nearly had you dropping the cloth back into the sink.

Dazai pulled away, smoothly, even when you had been left breathless. “Don’t worry about it, my love.”

“The mafia is important to me too." You scrunched your features. “If something’s going on, I want to know.”

Dazai smiled lazily, leaning back onto the counter, the picture of nonchalance. “If I really thought it was worth getting worked up about, I’d tell you.” He curled a piece of your hair around his finger, playing with it idly. “Why? You think I don’t trust my favorite girl?”

You stiffened, defensive, before releasing your shoulders once more, dropping your gaze to his chest. Slowly, you began to undo the buttons of his top, the threads so stained that it was beyond repair. “I don’t know, Osamu. You keep so many secrets. Sometimes I’m not sure.”

Dazai was quiet, eyebrows raised as he assessed you. When you reached the fourth button of his top, he grabbed your wrist, forcing your attention back to him.

“I don’t keep secrets from you, sweetheart.” He tugged you closer, curling the other arm around your back, skirting between your shoulder blades. Dazai dipped his head, tenderly kissing your fragile collarbone, the touch so airy that it sent your heart racing. “You’re the only person I really trust. If I thought you actually wanted to know every gory detail about the torment I inflicted, then I’d tell you.”

You breathed in, closing your eyes to steady yourself. It didn’t take much for Dazai to remind you of every reason you’d ever loved him.

“I don’t care about that,” you said as Dazai rested his forehead against your own, keeping his eyes on yours’ even when your gaze was pinned to his chest. He released his soft grip to let you continue your task, and you were swallowing, onto the fifth button. “It was just a passing comment.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t ever want you to think that I’m hiding things from you,” he said, fiercely.

You shrugged. “I would understand if there were things you couldn’t tell me. It doesn’t upset me.” When the shirt finally became undone completely, you slid it off Dazai’s shoulders, wadding it up into a ball to discard.

He straightened, replacing the dirtied white top with the darker, softer one. “I can tell you whatever I want.” He scoffed, sliding the black buttons through the holes. “I’m the boss.”

“I just assumed the boss would have highly classified information that had to be contained to a select group of individuals.”

Dazai made a face at you, like your statement was completely ridiculous. He stood to his full height, tilting your chin up towards him with one long, slender finger.

“Well then, someone should’ve told you that the boss’s wife is never excluded from that group." Dazai smiled at the flush on your cheeks when you allowed yourself to indulge in his touch. “You are my equal. There is nothing in this world that’s more important to me than you. Nothing of mine that doesn’t belong to you as well.”

Sometimes, you felt undeserving of his affection. It was hard to believe that the man who owned half the city would hand that power over to you willingly, if only you asked.

Though, that grain of doubt lingered in your mind was poison, and you would fight it for as long as Dazai loved you truly. Instead, you smiled, cupping his cheek before standing on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead. “Forgive me if I forget from time to time.”

Dazai laughed and shook off your grip so he could sling an arm around your shoulder. He was still wearing the dirtied pants, but the blood had dried, and your stomach longed for the meal that you knew was waiting for you. You could let it slide, if only this one time.

“I’ll try to remind you more often,” he said, lips grazing your temple. “I really am sorry I was late for dinner, angel. It won't happen again.”

You laced your hand with his own free one. The touch was backwards and awkward, your palm cupping the back of his knuckles. You just needed to be closer to him, to feel the touch of his warm skin and know that, for now, his time was only your own.

With a honeyed look, you whispered the words close to his ear, slow and seductive. “I’m sure you can find a way to make it up to me.”

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osachiyo · 1 month

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"i'm so sick and tired of you always downplaying everything!"

"i fucking hate you right now, dazai"

the sentences ran through dazai's mind repeatedly, a painfully numb feeling he hasn't felt in a while blossomed in his chest. he almost didn't notice the deafening sound of glass shattering ringing through his apartment, shards of glass breaking through the bandaged skin of his hand.

he couldn't bring himself to care about the blood dripping on the carpet from between his digits — he felt so empty, so damn guilty ever since you slammed the front door shut without saying a word to him. were you really going to leave him?

the thought alone made dazai clench his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms, resulting in more blood spilling out of the gashes in his right hand, knuckles turning white from the pressure.

a pang of.. something he couldn't distinguish hit his chest once he remembered your tear stricken face — eyes red from frustration and hurt.

you were for sure leaving him.

youwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghimyouwereleavinghim —

his eyes widened when he heard the front door click open — "hey.. i'm ba —!"

you gasped once you saw dazai standing in middle of your living room, blood and broken glass staining the once pristine carpet. "osamu what the fu—" you were enveloped in a warm embrace before you could even finish your sentence — "please, fuck — don't leave."

your boyfriend's voice was uncharacteristically shaky, as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as if it was his oxygen.

"babe i.. i just went to get some ice-cream to cool us both off," you lifted the bag of ice-cream in your hands, showing it to dazai. he blinked once, twice, before his shoulders slumped in relief — "oh thank god."

"thought you were leaving for real," he breathed, kissing your cheek gently.

"listen, dazai. i would never leave you like that — i love you, for god's sake!" you reassured him, wrapping your arms around his neck after setting the bag aside. "..even though you were being an ass.."

"i'm so sorry, baby — shit, i promise i'll do better," dazai pleaded, smoothing out the slight furrow between your brows, "say what — i'll take the day off tomorrow so we can go on a date, 'kay? wherever you want."

"hmmm.. i'll think about forgiving you. but first, let's get you patched up. how'd you even get yourself hurt like this?!"

that's how it always was with dazai — one moment he'd have you fuming and crying tears of frustration, but then he'd have you peppering his face in kisses as you two exchanged sweet words. you knew your relationship wasn't the healthiest — but you wouldn't change it for the world.

note. i'm so bad at writing angst, sorry if this sucked 😭

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deonsx · 1 month

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If You Cry While Making Love With Them

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor

Content: Smut, Nsfw

Dazai Osamu

You had returned from a very tiring day at work and your lover was in a dark mood throughout the day. Every time you looked at him, he seemed focused on his work with his eyebrows furrowed. 'Don't we ever have a quiet day?' You thought, but you didn't ask anything so as not to upset him. You hoped that he would calm down when you got home, but the same mood got even harsher at home, he wasn't talking at all and the seriousness on his face never left

You never disturbed her, but when it was midnight, she was still sitting on the couch and not coming to bed. You waited for her for a while, but then you couldn't help but went to her. She was still the same as you left her. The brunette's eyes were staring at closed tv, "Osamu??" you called out to her and slowly her eyes turned to you but she waited for a while before answering "Are you asleep yet bella?" The eyes looked blank, but he did not forget to ask you in a voice that would warm his heart. You slowly approached him and held his hands, "You are very tired today, let's sleep together, my love."

"I'm sorry, but I'll stay on my own for a while, my love." Your memories after he said this sentence are blurry, but you whispered love sentences to him and gave him a nice night because you wanted to make him happy, but the night was not as full of love as you thought.. Dazai was very rough during sex, more than ever before. he was rude "Ngh!!..osamu!! slow down...!" No matter how many times you told him, he didn't care, but now you were in pain rather than pleasure and you couldn't hold back the tears in your eyes

When you saw your lover stopping quickly, you wanted to pull yourself together, but you didn't even have the strength to move. An anxious tone of voice filled your ears. "Was it too much love...sshhh my love.." he slowly wiped the tears from your eyes and kissed all over your face and pulled you into his lap, making you lose the coldness. "I'm so sorry.. That wasn't my intention... Today was a bad day.. I lost myself." You slowly buried your head in Dazai's neck and inhaled his scent. The pain of your life slowly disappeared with his loving words "What happened today, Osamu...?" you asked as you slowly exhaled into the cold air that filled the room but he only gave tiny kisses to your hair "Don't worry my love...the only thing that matters right now is you”

Chuuya Nakahara

That day was a day when even the weather was really bad. While your boyfriend was at work, you were preparing dinner for the two of you at home. You sent a lot of messages to your boyfriend, but he didn't answer any of them, but it wasn't that unusual, after all, he was an assassin, and sometimes, no matter how worried you were about him, you were better off praying for him. You can't do anything else, finally the man of the night came and Chuuya, who normally rings the bell, must have preferred to open the door with the key, you didn't even hear him coming. When you heard him say "I'm home", you wanted to look at him, but he quickly went to your bedroom and closed the door

But you still didn't care and quickly knocked on your boyfriend's door. "My love! I prepared the dinner, I'm waiting for you." There was no sound from inside.. "Chuuya?" When there was no sound from inside, you opened the door and found your boyfriend exhausted and lost in thought in the corner of the bed. His orange hair covered his eyes. You slowly approached him and sat next to him, brushing that beautiful hair from his eyes. "Are you okay?" You reached out to her hand with one hand and caressed it. he turned towards you with a deep breath. "Leave me alone s/o..”

You didn't want to leave him alone, on the contrary, you wanted to make him happy and make him forget all his bad night, so you slowly unbuttoned his shirt and sat on his lap "My love.. relax.. you are tired enough" While you were giving him gentle kisses, he took off your clothes with his hands and quickly put your bra in a corner. "You so insatiable today..Chuuya-san," your voice trembled as you gripped his orange hair.

After undressing you completely, he slowly laid you down on the bed and got on top of you and left a lot of marks on your skin, his face was very serious, his mind looked blurry and without waiting for you to relax, he pushed his dick inside you, which made you scream because it hurt so much "Chuuya..! it hurts, wait...!" He was ignoring you as if he was under the influence of some kind of trance, his thrusts continued rapidly and non-stop and this suddenly hurt you so much your eyes quickly filled with tears

Chuuya quickly turned his eyes to you, quickly tried to grasp the seriousness of the situation with his eyes, and then stopped quickly "S/o.." he quickly stood up and then picked you up and took you to the bathroom "I...I don't know what I'm doing I was so confused" he slowly filled the tub with hot water and he placed kisses on your hair "I'm sorry my love..." you rested your head on his neck and let the hot water flow down your body "Please forgive me..I wasn't in the right mind, beautiful"

Fyodor Dostoyevski

You felt like you were in heaven as his lips slid across your skin. My eyes rolled to the back of your head. You couldn't stop the moans escaping from your mouth as he quickly ate you away. Your heart was beating so fast that it stopped "F-fyodor!...Fuck!" your hands gripped the sheets and you closed your eyes tightly, trying to bury your head in the pillow, feeling the knot in your stomach quickly close to breaking. "I-I.." you stammered, "Go on, dear.. I can't get enough of the taste yet"

While swallowing your pleasure juices quickly, he squinted his eyes and grabbed you by the waist and put you in doggy position. "Tonight is going to be a long night, my love... it would be better for you if you prepare yourself" Your first tour, your second tour, your third tour, you were still continuing to fuck, it was starting to hurt.. you felt a hard time. You felt in this situation. Normally you would tell this to your boyfriend and he would stop, but it was the first time you spent such a pleasure-filled evening with him and the compliments he told you were like melody in your ears

It felt unbearable now and it made you scream and cry from the pain. "Honey?? Are you okay? Don't be hard on yourself, my love” He kissed your eyes and wiped your tears and pulled you into his lap. You closed your eyes on his cold white skin and fainted right there. 'Was I too weak?' You thought, and when you came to your senses after 1-2 hours, you were lying on your bed in your nightgown. My eyes widened when I saw your boyfriend Fyodor on top of you "My love?? I..." his icy fingers tangled in your hair "Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me...? "

You felt empty and closed your silence, but you felt as if his purple eyes were looking into your soul "I can't let anyone, including me, hurt you or upset you. You should know this best" As you buried your head deeper into the pillow, his voice was more muffled in your ears. You held his hands and pulled him to the bed. "In your lap I want to sleep" He smiled and laid down next to you and hugged you "You are the only person in this world that I care about, my dear"

This was actually a request!!! but since I accidentally sent it after drafting it, I deleted the post and then the request disappeared. I hope the person who wrote this request sees this!!!

We are 700 people!! I will return to my activity as soon as possible, I love you!! I will do your wishes!

Enjoy!

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mangogobibiboo · 2 months

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Fighting for them w/ Hinata, Atsumu, Osamu

Hinata, Miya Twins x Reader (Seperate)// Warnings: Bodily harm and fighting // Word Count: 1000+

Synopsis: In which they are flirted with, and you just can't take it anymore. (DO NOT DO THIS)

Osamu:

This girl had been coming into the shop daily for the past month to stare at Osamu. She always got the same order: an iced matcha tea with a strawberry ice cream mochi. It was just a cutesy order, too. You scoff just as the words leave her mouth.

It's not like it was a bestseller that most people ordered. You must admit you were a tad irrational; some may say it was petty. But she was gawking at YOUR man. It was unforgivable.

You couldn't help but scoff every time she came into the store and ordered in her stupid cute voice, batting her eyelashes, leaning over the counter ever so slightly to make sure he would get a peek at her cleavage. She did the same thing today but went too far this time. She gripped his biceps and gushed over how strong he must be. Those were YOUR BICEPS that only you had the right to feel up and gush over. How dare she!

You had enough. You stomped up to the counter and shoved her out of the way, knocking her to the ground. She looked up at you with wide eyes, almost on the verge of tears. "Back off, my boyfriend," was the only thing you needed to say before she hurried away. "And don't forget your drink!" you yell after her as you grab the order from the counter and cuck it out the door, barely missing her.

"Ya been talkin to Tsumu too much." You look back to Osamu to see him laughing. "Crazy does look hot on you, baby, but you probably shouldn't do that again. I need these people to come back. Yer gonna kill ma livelihood." He came around the counter and planted a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm not crazy! And how come you never said anything to her? " you playfully punch his chest.

"Cuz, I barely notice em. Yer only one for me." you snuggle closer into his chest. "Okay?" "Okay."

Atsumu:

"C'mon, babe, talk ta me. I tried to tell 'er off, I swear!" It was after a game, and Atsumu was driving the two of you home, albeit unwillingly on your part. He had to beg you to get in the car, and you were set on taking a taxi. Leading to at least 30 minutes of quiet arguing in the parking garage. You felt a bit guilty making such a fuss, knowing how tired he must be from his game. But it was all the more reason to let you take a taxi like you wanted!

This was probably already bubbling before tonight. About two weeks ago, the Jackles had hired a couple of assistant managers. There was one in particular that gave you pause. You knew her; everyone on the team knew her. Not personally, of course. She was notorious for her affair with a captain of another team down in Okinawa. The scandal was in every magazine across Japan for weeks. It was a shitshow. The captain had to leave the team, and his wife left him, not that he didn't deserve that. And she was forced to step away as well. But it seemed that it didn't damage her professional reputation too much as the Jackles so quickly hired her.

After the game, you saw her throw herself onto Atsumu and gush about how amazing he was. She had his hands all over him.

If you had taken two seconds to process things, you would have seen that he was uncomfortable.

It was outside the locker room, so there was no press, but you were there, and before you knew it, you grabbed onto her hair, pulling her away. She didn't miss a beat, grabbing onto your hair as well. You two wrestled to the ground, scratching each other up before Atsumu finally got you off her. She yelled something about you being "A crazy bitch" before walking off.

Now you were sitting in the car, scratched up with a sore scalp, giving your boyfriend the silent treatment. "Baby, I swear, I was gonna tell 'er off, but ya didn't give me a chance." You stayed quiet, still not looking at him. "Fine, how 'bout I get yer favorite food and give ya all the cuddles ya want." You look at him, arms still crossed on your chest, and grumble, "And we watch a movie.". He smiled a bit and chuckled. "Okay, anythin' ya want. You kinda scare me now, babe."

Hinata:

Shoyo was too pure for his own good. He doesn't even realize the bartender is flirting with him. She was playing right into it, too! She opened by asking about his nice tan, which was all your dear boyfriend needed to start going on and on about Brazil and beach volleyball. In his excitement, he couldn't see how her eyes roamed his dress shirt, which couldn't quite contain his newly built Brazilian body.

But you noticed.

Honestly, after a few drinks, you didn't care if he noticed; you just wanted it to stop. You stomp over from the dance floor to the bar. Pull the bartender in by her ear and pour the drink she had served Hinata down her shirt. This quickly earns you a punch, and before you know it, the two of you grabbed a fistful of each other hair and began screaming obscenities at each other. It took Hinata a minute to process what was happening, and as soon as he did, it took all his strength to pull you two away from each other. After that, you two quickly ran off before the girl returned with the security. You make it outside and lean in an alley while trying to catch your breath when Hinata pipes up, still out of breath.

"Wow, Y/N, when did you get so strong? You have to teach me how to fight like that." He looked at you in awe; honestly, you couldn't help but laugh. You had to admit that you were a tad embarrassed by your outburst. How could you ever let your jealousy get the better of you? He was perfect and absolutely adored you, even in this situation,

A/n: Hi, yes, hello. I just wanted to pop in to say…THIS IS FICTION. Please don't do this in real life!

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emmyrosee · 2 months

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angst, you say?

Like, I am sorry to inform you, but when you and Osamu break up, he can no longer see or make or think about your favorite foods.

Your favorite Onigiri? Not on the menu anymore.

It’s a bizarre recipe too. One he made for you by accident, one you insisted on trying while he was testing new flavor combinations. It was a pain to make, hard to replicate, but for you, he’d do anything, absolutely anything to make you smile.

Now that you’re gone, he saves himself to consistent heartache in making it, taking it off the menu in hopes to combat the sight of you, pleading him to make it, jutting your lip out and clasping your fingers together while he looks you up and down in amusement. Now that you’re gone, he saves himself the trouble of tears stinging his eyes of the memories swirling in his head of you, sitting on the counter as he makes it at home, sneaking bites of rice from him when he’s turned around, only to act like you never did it.

It was on the menu for years. Only one person ordered it consistently. You.

So it’s completely normal why he bites his thumb nail as this damn seven year old, seemingly fresh out of a dance recital comes in, hands and chin hooked on the counter as her mother orders food, asking about her favorite onigiri no longer being served.

“Sorry, Miss, we haven’t had that on the menu in months-“

“But you’ve gotta make it!” She pouts. “I always get it after my dance recitals! It’s my favorite…”

“Yumei, don’t be rude!” Her mother scolds.

Osamu takes a deep breath in and rolls his shoulders, smiling softly at the young girl.

“Maybe I can whip one up. Just for you.” He leans slightly over the register, “but don’t tell anyone, okay?”

She gasps excitedly and bounces on the balls of her feet, squeaking out a “thanks, mister!” as her mother pays.

It kills him as he puts the order into the system for the cooks to make. It kills him as the cooks look at him like he’s got five heads, “we uh… we don’t know how to make this, Miya.”

“That’s alright,” he chokes, swallowing thickly. “Just watch the register.

“I’ll take care of it.”

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getonite · 3 months

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PLAYING : HOTLINE ! — DAZAI TUNES IN!

𝗧hinking about Dazai, your childhood friend and the one who shows his vulnerability only to you. Years after you've gone and left the Port Mafia and your terrible past behind, he knocks on your door. He looks downright terrible. His bloodied hands are trembling as he grips onto the fabric of Odasaku's coat, he's trembling, and on the verge of tears.

"Dazai, how'd you—" he practically leaps, his bandaged arms wrap around your neck, squeezing harshly, though you wonder how he found you... Ango.

There's not a word spoken between you two, but you know exactly what he needs. You pull him inside, carefully closing the door. "How about we clean you up first, okay?" You whisper. He stinks. His eyelids are puffy and there's red underlining his eyelashes. His hair is due for a wash with split ends, and he's pale. You guess he hasn't taken too much care of himself since you left. He silently nods, leaning his full bodyweight into you.

You bring him to your bathroom, carefully peeling the layers of clothing from him. The first to come off is the black coat he's regularly worn since he joined the Port Mafia.

His knees are to his chest as he speaks for the first time. "Mori-san's coat, burn it. I don't need it," he whispers in a raspy voice as if he's been screaming. You hum in acknowledgement as you set the dirty thing on the bathroom tile. Your hands carefully help him undress before starting to undo his bandages. "Years later and you still can't change your bandages like I told you to," he hears you whisper with a small smile. The bloodied and worn bandages fall to the floor as he hears the sound of streaming water come from the bathtub inches from him.

Once he's in the bath, you carefully rinse his body with warm water, lathering his new and old scars with soap carefully. There's a hint of guilt in your heart as you hear him wince, though this is probably for the best.

The pads of your fingers massage his scalp as you wash his hair, just like you did when the two of you were kids. You carefully trim his wet hair and brush it before getting him out of the tub, helping him dry off. You were likely the only person he could truly trust to see him so...bare and vulnerable. You couldn't exactly tell if the silence was tense or comforting, regardless you continued with is predictable mute moment. He always got like that when there was something wrong, you sigh.

"How about, I get you something to eat? I made some bento boxes, you can eat one and then brush your teeth, is that okay?" You speak softly and re-bandage his tender skin.

You smile softly at him when be finally nods. "Okay," you whisper and attempt to finish quickly before his mind changes.

As his hair dries it becomes its usual fluffy self, you'd assume hair matches personality; however, Dazai's eyes were close to dead. He only seemed to relax, feel different, when you touched him so gently. You quickly clean up and head to make him food. "You don't have to eat all of it y'know...just some, okay?" You whisper, setting the box in front of him.

He can tell your eyes are studying him as he eats, wondering what your Dazai from years ago has turned into. You look at him proudly when he finishes half of it before pushing it away. "Thank you," you whisper.

Handing him a toothbrush, you let him brush his teeth and fix the mess that is your bedroom, knowing he'll ask to sleep. And surely, 5 minutes later he stumbles to your doorway. "Can I...Can I stay?" You look him up and down, smiling softly. Compared to the terrible look he had when he first appeared at your door, he looks better. No longer like a man seconds from being a corpse.

"'Course," You smile, pulling back the covers, "C'mere."

He walks to the bed, crawling onto the soft sheets carefully. His brown eyes look at you expectingly, watching you get under the covers with him. He moves his body next to yours, putting his face into your neck without a word. "Ready to talk?" You whisper. His hoarse voice whispers a 'No.'

The calming effect your fingers have as they glide along him and his hair makes him feel like he's home. "Okay, just sleep. I'll be right here, I'm not leaving."

Dazai again, speaks no words, but his legs entertangle with yours. He remembers just why he came here. He missed you. Even if Odasaku is gone, he has you to make sure he doesn't go over the deep end. He'll save people, he'll grant Odasaku's last wish. But first, he wants to rest. Right next to his home.

"I promise, sleep." The man listens, squeezing onto you as if to test that this is real before drifting off.

For the first time in days...he's at peace.

A/N: dazai srsly needs a hug, 'n ill b the one 2 give it 2 him if no one else will! we need more fluffy fics of taking care of dazai, rather than dazai taking care of us. nyway, if u haven't signed up 4 the new tag list u totally should! there's new options n better format.

SUBSCRIBERS : @avatsu @sofliesy @tamreadfanfiction

#(💿) -> SNIPPETS!#(🎵) -> O. DAZAI #dazai osamu x reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x female reader #dazai x reader #dazai x gn!reader #bsd x reader #bsd x gn reader #gn reader #bsd fluff #bsd angst #dazai fluff #dazai angst #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs

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sillyd0ve · 13 days

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I love thinking about angsty make-up sex with dazai.

both of you still have that knot on your throats, eyes red and puffy after crying in silence, far from the other.

dazai who grips you a bit too hard, leaving marks of his nails on your skin. so afraid of letting you go.

he can't even bear to look at your glistening eyes — he knows you're holding back your tears, he knows you're holding the sobs and turning them into low whines each time his hips slam against yours. he wishes he could be slamming his head against a hard concrete wall instead.

his body feels so good, while his mind is a complete and utter mess.

dazai doesn't feel like he deserves you, he only ruins you, he only makes your life unbearable, he's only a burden—

until he hears that soft voice of yours again, cracking slightly when you cup his face as desperately as he's holding you.

and when your lips slam against his bitten and bloody ones, and when tears finally escape from your eyelids, he knows you're sticking with his useless being at least for a little longer.

and that's when he cums, kissing you messily, holding you close with absurd force, sharing tears and saliva, moans and sobs.

god. how his heart beats faster and faster the longer you keep kissing him, keeping your legs apart, allowing his hips to keep thrusting his seed deep inside you.

after that, he spends his time lying on your chest —looking away from your face— letting tears run from his eyelids and onto your skin as you rub his scalp.

dazai won't say a word about the fact that he's crying, and he knows you won't either.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x you #bsd angst #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #osamu dazai x y/n #dazai.zip #need him so bad pls god #dazai osamu angst #dazai osamu smut #💫 — Messages from the stars ₊˚⊹⋆#💋 — Sinful thoughts ₊˚⊹⋆

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cr4yolaas · 2 months

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not strong enough — miya osamu

notes: based off of “not strong enough” by boygenius <3

tags: reverse comfort, cheating implications (no actual cheating), self-deprecation + jealousy (osamu), super heartfelt tho

osamu hadn’t been home lately.

the kitchen was devoid of heart and soul. gone was the warmth that seeped into the apartment at his presence, or the comfort that his voice provided as it wafted through the halls. you didn’t see nor feel him anymore, save for the few glimpses of him getting ready before the sun could even greet your windowsill.

miya osamu was disappearing from your life, and you could do nothing but prepare for it.

you instantly feared the worst — that he was planning to leave you, or that he was seeking solace in another, or anything else that involved him separating himself from the life he built in your shared home. and so, delusion after delusion fed into one another, thus leading to an overwhelming bubble of anxiety that infected every inch of your bones.

when you had finally seen him — not just witnessed his shadow in the darkness of a lonesome bedroom — he appeared as if he had just barely dragged himself home. his skin hung heavy under his eyes, his hair was oily and tousled, his hands seemingly obtained an impossible amount of callouses and burns and scratches. you did not say a word, fearful for his response. instead, you held him in your arms in the doorway as he collapsed to the floor, the buckle of his knees bringing you down with him.

you could hear the remnants of an apology muttered into your shirt (his shirt, truthfully).

“what was that, ‘samu?” you whispered, your voice barely reaching his ears.

he turned his head to look to the side with his cheek still firm on your shoulder. “don’t ya ever wish things were different?”

his voice was hoarse; it was littered with exhaustion and pain and misery that you could not begin to understand. his question nestled itself deep into your lungs. you weren’t entirely sure what he was asking.

“a life where you’re living comfortably … and you’re free to do whatever your want …” he began to trail off, his features lined with sleepiness. “didn’t ya ever want that?”

you began to rub circles around his back, which was damp from the sweat that accumulated beneath his work uniform. you were waiting patiently for him to say it — to tell you to go pursue greater things to conceal his desire to rid himself of you, or that he didn’t deserve you because he had committed an act of betrayal. but instead, he continued, “‘tsumu’s doing great things … ‘n he’s rich ‘n happy ‘n famous and so much more. but what about me? what have i done?”

his words dissipated gradually. the cracks in his voice exposed him quite easily, not to mention the teardrops staining your skin. “you’ve done more than enough for me, ‘samu. i’m sorry i didn’t make you feel that way.” your boyfriend only gripped onto your harder, as if he were scared you would melt away if he didn’t.

“i jus’ wanna make you happy. i’m not sure if my job can even do that,” he muttered. “i’m trying to work harder at the shop, but i’m scared it isn’t enough.”

if it were situationally acceptable, you would have heaved a heavy sigh of relief. but it was not — so instead, you began to hold him impossibly tighter. “you don’t need to work so hard for me to love n’ appreciate you. everything about you is enough to make me happy,” you spoke softly to him. “as long as you’re by my side, i’m happy.”

miya osamu, despite his intricacies, was a delicate man at heart. that night, as you held him at the front door, the porcelain shell concealing his truest soul had shattered.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu osamu #osamu haikyuu #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu angst #osamu smut #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu haikyuu #atsumu miya

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saintpavlov · 2 months

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he doesn't mean to make you sad, you know that. it's just that, when atsumu's upset it becomes everyone's problem—yours especially.

you don't know how it starts. atsumu had been bouncing off the walls just a moment ago, drunk off of booze and the afterglow of victory. you don't know which one of his teammates had invited her to the after-party, just that right now, you can't help but hate them.

it's just for a second, but you catch it. the way his eyes immediately dim, how his hand falters around yours. you don't want to jump to conclusions, but it's obvious—atsumu's in love with her. painfully so.

he drops your hand as if burnt and turns away, letting himself be carried off into another conversation. atsumu laughs loud enough to be heard over the music, a deafening house mix that thuds through your chest like a second heartbeat. anyone else might not spare him a second glance, but you know that when atsumu laughs that loud there's something he's trying to hide. then, as if remembering that you're still there, atsumu turns over his shoulder. you answer before he can ask the question.

"no no, go ahead. go have fun!"

atsumu tilts his head, though you know he's only asking to be polite. "are you sure?"

you smile. "no worries."

it's a bold-faced lie, but atsumu's never been that good at paying attention. he returns your smile with an excited nod, letting himself be led away by the shoulders. "don't go anywhere!" he shouts, though you know later on he'll forget to come find you. that's the way it always is. always has been.

you nurse your drink against your chest—water, you don't have the stomach tonight—and try to look on the bright side, if there is one. atsumu had been the one to invite you, hadn't he? and though you're still "just friends", he'd held your hand earlier, so that has to count for something, right?

it's useless. you down your water in one go, figuring that if you treat it like alcohol it might work like it is. it doesn't, and now you're alone at this party with an empty cup and an even emptier hand.

you sigh and snake your way out of the kitchen, making your way up the stairs to the first door that opens. the upstairs is off-limits, but you hope that whoever owns this room is drunk enough to be forgiving. you don't even bother to turn on the lights, and instead flop backwards onto the bed. you feel the music downstairs rather than hearing it, a steady thump-thump-thump that shakes through you from head to toe.

you close your eyes, trying very hard not to think about atsumu and the girl he's still in love with downstairs. it's not your place to be bothered, that you know, but something in your chest still aches at the thought. you've loved atsumu since before he met her, after all. it's a shame he hasn't noticed. or maybe he's not noticing on purpose, which is considerably worse.

"woe is me," you say to no one, your voice biting with sarcasm. you're not shocked at how things are turning out, moreso that you thought it'd turn out any differently. with a sigh, you close your eyes. atsumu will find you eventually. and if he doesn't, then someone else will. you'd rather be cursed at for trespassing than anywhere downstairs, faking a smile as you wait for atsumu like a well-trained dog. at least here you can lick your wounds in private.

you don't know how much time has passed when you feel something press into your side, warm and solid. arms wrap around you: one slung over your waist, the other snaking its way under your head. you turn in confusion, seeing nothing in the dark.

whoever's holding you down reeks heavily of liquor, and their arm feels like a dead weight around you. when you try to pull it off they hold onto you tighter, mumbling something incoherent under their breath. "um, hey," you say loudly, voice hoarse with sleep. "get off of me."

the person beside you stirs, and the bed dips slightly as they prop themselves up. they mumble your name under their breath, and in the dark you can make out the vague outline of a face.

with a start, you realize you recognize that voice. "...osamu?"

he lies back down, bringing you along with him. "h-hey," you start to protest, but osamu's grip grows stronger in response.

"don't leave," he mumbles, as you try to sit up.

"but—"

"m'head hurts. shhh." osamu shushes you, curling up against your side. his hair tickles the side of your reddening cheek.

"hey, osamu." you try to move out from under his arm again, to no avail. "you're really drunk."

"and?" he counters, pulling you closer, almost possessively. "just pretend for a little while."

that catches you off guard. "pretend?"

"it's dark, so it's easier," osamu refuses to elaborate. "c'mon. it's my birthday."

"osamu, your birthday's in october."

"is it?" there's an uncharacteristic cheekiness to osamu's voice, one that makes you turn your head towards him in surprise. you can't see him, but you can tell from the warmth that his face is only inches away. "well it's somebody's birthday, somewhere."

something touches your cheek—osamu's hand? no, his face. somewhere near his chin, guessing by the stubble that scratches your skin. "just do me a favor and pretend i'm him," osamu says, and in that moment he sounds scarily sober.

"wh-what?" you can't help the way your mouth hangs open at the request, your stomach feeling like it's about to drop out of you.

"you heard me," osamu mumbles, back to being drunk again. "pretend i'm him. you know what i mean."

"you—what—that's not—"

"am i wrong?" osamu presses, raising his voice like he's imitating his brother. it works. osamu's fingers trace across your face, reading the shock on your face like braille. you turn your head and press your nose to his neck—no cologne, only the soft smell of skin. it can't be atsumu, but for a moment, you're fooled.

osamu tilts his head and sighs, slow and sweet. and when his lips brush your forehead, it's like everything you've ever dreamed. "i'm right," he breathes, nestling his head against your shoulder. it's not a question anymore, but a fact. "i'm right," he sing-songs, still painfully drunk.

"osamu—"

a hand covers your mouth, warm and firm. softer than atsumu's, and just a bit bigger. "don't say my name like that," he whispers, his voice hot against the shell of your ear, "say it the way you say his."

you swallow an audible gulp. "osa—osamu?" you try again.

osamu shakes his head. needy hands pull you in by the waist. you feel osamu's lips kiss up the side of your neck. "not like that," he murmurs.

"o-osa...mu..." you're breathless and dizzy. you feel osamu's smile against the underside of your jaw.

"better," he grins, and this time, his lips find yours.

it ends before you can even react. osamu pulls away with a shaky exhale, as if he's slowly waking from a dream. his eyes shine back at you in the dark, wide and unblinking.

he opens his mouth to speak. "i—"

"you're drunk," you say immediately, and push him away by the chest.

osamu doesn't let you. he brings his hands over yours and keeps them there, and under the thin cotton of his shirt you feel his heart beating rabbit-fast. "so? i'll still want you when i'm sober."

his words choke your own out of your throat. "osamu...i can't—"

"so don't. don't do anything. just stay the night." there's a desperation in his words that makes your stomach flip. osamu holds onto you like he's afraid to let go. "please."

it's late, and you're tired. atsumu's in love with someone that isn't you, but osamu's arms are warm enough to make you forget. you think to yourself: is it selfish if he's willing? are you cruel for wanting to pretend?

you wrap your arms around his neck and osamu relaxes, melting into you the same way butter does on toast. he's soft, comforting. familiar, but not the same. osamu's lips brush on your neck again and the impact shudders through your spine like electricity. he takes his hands and rubs them over your arms, thinking that you're cold. you don't want to tell him that in reality you're burning up, feeling hot everywhere he touches.

"thank you," osamu murmurs into your hair.

"for what?"

"stayin'."

and when osamu kisses you a second time, you don't have the heart to push him away.

#spwrites #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #osamu x reader #osamu x you #drabble #light angst #unrequited #x reader #i have lots of thoughts about miya osamu #he is very gorgeous to me

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cheriiyaya · 3 months

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ In all the time you've know dazai, he's just never let himself near you...

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ Contents: dazai x fem!reader, NOT PROOFREAD, touch starved and emotionally constipated dazai my beloved, hurt/comfort, descriptions of blood and injuries, dazai can't take care of himself for shit, established relationship, use of pet names, lil angst, dazai gets injured, reader and dazai aren't to far in their relationship, slight religious imagery near the end, just yeah

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ W/C: ~2k

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ A/N: yeah this DEF probably lost the poll but i had such a good idea for it so im doin' it >~< @chuuyrr and @ruanais my lovelies here u go <3

When you heard dazai had gotten injured, you were sent into a worried frenzy. Yosano tried her best to reassure you, consoling you with the fact that his condition was stable as you clung onto her. Thankfully his wounds weren't that bad as to warrant a hospital visit, so he was sent home right on time.

It didn't matter to you that you technically didn't live with him yet- you'd only been with him for a month or so-you stuck next to him and went to his dorm that day with him, even as he told you it was no worry.

"It's really nothing, I'm fine." The way he chuckled out the words sounded strained, like it was a plea of sorts. You shook your head, holding out your hands for the keys. He glanced at your outstretched palm and chuckled. "Why, it seems you doesn't even trust me to open my own door." He pouted but placed the key to his dorm door in your hand.

"I do, I just wanna take care of you." You slid the key into the lock, twisted it, and opened the door and stepped inside. Dazai followed in quietly.

"...You really don-" You shot him a look and he quickly stopped himself from saying more, a sheepish smile on his face. As he entered his dorm you went behind him and pulled off his tan coat and flung it on a chair. As you did so, you noticed...

"Is that blood? oh my god osamu-" he cut you off with a short kiss to the lips, chuckling a bit as he pulls back.

"Love, it's old blood I'll be fine. Just lemme clean up, 'kay?" Those reassurances did nothing to soothe your worries. There was ruby-red stains of blood on his shirt right by his left shoulder blade and the visible bandages on his neck and wrists had a smattering of blood on them. Noticing your worried look dazai curled a finger under your chin, pressing his lips softly to your forehead as he smoothed down fly-aways in your hair. "don't worry." And with the lingering words of that whisper against your ear he went into the washroom, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

You don't know how long he took in the washroom, but either way you found yourself standing in front of the door, listening carefully at the shuffle of shoes scuffling on the floor and light sighs that dazai would emit. It sounded like he was fine, but you couldn't escape that lingering feeling in the back of your mind.

So you knocked, very gently against the wooden door.

"...osamu? You alright? You've been in there awhile." Silence, the a voice from the other side responded.

"Yes, I'm fine, don't worry about it." there was an edge in his voice, one that caused you to tense in worry.

"are you sure?" more silence followed you slightly panicked voice.

"yes, love I'm fine so plea-" a muffled hiss of pain was heard, then a sharp intake of breath. "...please don't worry." his voice was quiet, as if he knew you wouldn't listen.

"Do you want me to come it?" You couldn't hide the shake in your voice. after a minute or two of no response, you debated in your head whether or not you should just go in and check on him.

the door creaked open and you carefully stepped inside, gently calling out his name. dazai turned and looked at you, leaning against the counter shirtless and the bandages that usually serve as almost a protective skin loosely wrapped around him. Your heart dropped when you saw the open gash on his left shoulder blade, dripping sticky mahogany down his back. He smiled crookedly, a smile that made your heart throb in fear and worry.

"...I swear, it's not as bad as it looks. It just opened a little..." He trailed off, taking in a shaky breath as he saw your expression. "Don't look at me like that." You took careful steps before him, prying your eyes off the wound on his back.

"that needs to be stitched up. Let me do it."

"do you even know how to?" He chuckled a bit.

"Yosano taught me how to stitch up a wound once." You opened the cabinet under the sink. "Do you have a suturing kit?" dazai shook his head. you sighed, reaching in and moving around some rolls of bandages and such until you found a small container with needles and a roll of dental floss. you bent the needle into an arch-like shape, carefully emptying out the container of needles-far enough out on the counter that you knew none of the needles would fall onto the floor- and filled it with steaming water before dropping the arched needle into the water.

"Dental floss? You're gonna stitch me up with dental floss?" dazai chuckled.

"Mhm. It has less of a chance of breaking than regular thread." You washed your hands and fished out the needle, threaded the floss through it's eye before looking back up at dazai. "Can I...?" You motioned to the loose bandages on his torso and he slowly nodded.

You went behind him, pulling away and unravelling the sullied bandages and letting them drop onto the floor. Now that his entire torso was bare, you saw not only the gash, but multiple scars that ranged from tiny cuts to gunshot wound scars to long gashes. Swallowing, you wetted a towel and cleaned the blood off the wound and his back.

"Okay, I'm gonna stitch it up now..." Dazai hummed and offered a small smile.

"Oh yeah? be gentle if you're gonna kill me-you know I hate pain." You pierced the needle through his skin, feeling dazai's back tense and hearing him release a pained hiss. "Ow! Bella' that hurts!" He whined and you clicked your tongue, pulling out the needle and pushing it back it.

"stop whining." You couldn't help but smile even as you scolded him. You stitched up his wound and somewhere along the way his whines died into short grunts and hisses of pain whenever the needle pieced flesh and tissue and whenever it left.

"Stay here, alright?" You didn't wait for a response before leaving the bathroom and returning with a clean white button up. When you came back, dazai was trying to bandage himself up but you could tell that with an injury like that, it wasn't easy to. You set the button up down on the counter and gently pried the roll of cotton from him, looking up at him. "Let me. Please osamu." He hesitated before sighing, reaching out to cup your cheek in his hand.

"Alright..." He let his thumb brush against your cheekbone before letting it drop to his side. "After all, how could I deny my lovely girl when she asks so nicely for something?" He joked and you felt your lips curl into a smile.

"...there's that pretty smile." He said softly as you began to unfurl the roll. You wrapped it around his arms, probing him by asking if it was too tight-to which he always responded that it was "perfect". As you wrapped him up in spools of cotton you noticed how he unwillingly shivered each time your fingers grazed his skin, how he'd tense as your knuckles pressed against raised, scarred skin.

"Do you not like it when I touch you?" You murmured, pausing as you awaited a response.

"Why would you think that?' He smiles at you, cocking his head to the side.

"Just...nevermind." You began to wrap him again, but his voice stopped you.

"C'mon, what's wrong?" He turns around to face you, smiling a bit. "I wanna know what's going on in my darling's pretty little head." He poked you in between your eyebrow and you whined in response.

"It's just...You always flinch or just find some way to stop me whenever I touch you." It's true-dazai would always find some way to escape even the most innocent of your touches yet he was always fine with showering you with his sweet affection.

He chuckled, cupping your face up and he kissed the area he poked.

"I dunno what you're talking about, love." You rolled your eyes, poking his shoulder, and huffing out a soft "turn around", which he complied to and you continued wrapping his up as you spoke.

"Don't lie to me, you know damn well you do." You stopped bandaging him when you reached a particular scar on his shoulder. "Why do you do it?" You lightly traced the tip of your finger down the scar, causing him to tense up and try to move away. You squeezed his bicep as he tried to escape your touch. "Stay, please." He chuckled, turning his head to face you to say something before you cut him off with pressing your lips softly against the scar.

"Darling please-"

"I've been saying the same thing over and over again, and you haven't listen to me. Now you will listen to me." You pressed another kiss to the nape of his neck, rubbing comforting circles into his shoulder with your thumb.

"Please tell me why you keep hiding yourself from me." You whispered against his neck, the warm air of your breath raising goosebumps along his skin.

"I just...bella'." He sighed, looking at you through the mirror. Once he saw your expression, that pained expression on his darling girl's face he just had to say it, the words couldn't stay in.

"...I don't deserve you." That was it. The answer was simple and curt, yet it left a gaping hole in your heart and thousands of questions.

You were silent as you finished wrapping him up.

You wanted to make him happy, you really did.

So why did he feel undeserving of you?

You thought of it as you watched dazai lay on his futon, staring blankly at the ceiling after refusing to eat. You crouched beside him and sat on the floor, brushing his messy, dark bangs out of his eyes.

"Osamu? Can...can I stay the night with you?" You swallowed, your voice quieter than you would've liked. He nodded and you hesitated before laying beside him. "Move a bit."

You curled up beside him, feeling him tense up again before tentatively putting a hand a hand on your back. Dazai's eyes widen as he watched you sit up, hovering over him with a pained expression.

"...'donna?"

"Why don't you think you deserve me?" You trailed your fingers down his face, tracing every single one of his beautiful features as they contort into a sad smile.

"You want to know? It's because you're a delicate, pure thing and such things do not suit a blackened heart like mine."

"why not?"

"Because, my dear. You're an angel."

"And you're not?" You brushed your fingers through his hair. "Even if you weren't, the devil himself was once god's most favored angel."

He chuckled softly, leaning his head further into the pillow. "Ah, love, you have such a way with words; I don't suppose you could find a way to poison me with them?" You sighed and cupped his face, tilting it up before brushing your lips and fingers over every place and every curve of his features.

"Don't. Relax. Let me give you what you deserve." You whispered against his skin that had taken a pink-hue under your care. You kissed every part of his face and neck you could reach, peppering his skin with traces of love. Once there was no more room to fill with love, you moved to kiss every crease and scar of his calloused, blood-drenched hands as if to cleanse them of sin. His lips caught yours in a tender kiss, lithe fingers sliding into your hair and pulling you down to him. You left multitudes of promises with him, burying deep into his heart with every breath that the two of you took.

Dazai Osamu was yours, he'd always been. You were dazai osamu's, you'd always been.

Just like adam, you'd pluck the forbidden fruit if he asked you to simply because of the foolish thing called love. Even if you'd get cast away into hell you knew that he was the sought-after paradise-

Even if he didn't believe so.

#☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 𝕽𝖊𝖉'𝖘 𝕽𝖚𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ⋆⁺₊⋆☾#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd dazai #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x fem reader #osamu dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu #dazai angst #dazai fluff #dazai imagines #bsd x you #bsd x y/n

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yokohamapound · 3 months

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How about some angsty HCs?? 😏

How would Kunikida, Dazai, Fukuzawa, Chuuya and Fyodor (or anyone else you’d like too) react to their s/o taking a hit for them that would have otherwise been fatal if they didn’t?? S/o ends up being okay but the gentlemen are all angsty in the meantime >:)

Thanks so much lovely! 🥰💕

Hello, my lovely! It's been a while since I wrote some good old angst, so this scratched an itch. I hope these are what you are looking for!

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: death mentions, suicide mentions, controlling behaviour, anger issues

Nakahara Chuuya

Ooh, it’s kinda difficult for him to deal with? He’s in two minds about it, really.

On one hand, he’s strong enough that whatever blow was being dealt to him really wouldn’t have hurt him that much, or so he tells himself. All he can think about is that moment where the bullet/bomb/fireball, whatever it is, was coming toward you. Yes, you survived it, but he had to live through the nanoseconds of absolute hell when he thought he was just about to see another person he cares about die right before his eyes.

His temper erupts afterward. He’s furious, yelling at you that you “didn’t fuckin’ need to do that!” You’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s his pride you’ve hurt, but it’s anger born of worry. Those few moments he thought you were going to die were harrowing for him.

Imagine if he carelessly lost the person he loves the most, just because he was too slow or too stupid to see it coming? Shit, he could never live with himself if that happened.

However, there’s the other side of the coin. Which is that you cared about him enough to intercept a blow aimed at him. Chuuya can’t remember the last time someone did that for him. He’s used to being the tank, to soaking up all the violence so the geniuses can get on with their schemes. He doesn’t really know how to handle someone trying to protect him, like he’s something vulnerable.

He likes it and he doesn’t. He’s grateful and he’s pissed. Chuuya’s a complicated creature.

Once he’s done yelling and has calmed down a little, he’ll mutter something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, though he says it with his eyes mulishly averted and one arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He won’t be letting you out of his sight for a while, even while he’s being a grouch.

Dazai Osamu

While he might not show it on the surface, this has a rather profound effect on Dazai. Remember the last time someone he loved died in front of him?

While he pretends to be calm on the surface, inside he’s in turmoil. He should have seen it coming; you’re the self-sacrificing sort, always trying to save him in one or another. But before now, it hasn’t been literal.

I feel like time moves very slowly for someone as fast as Dazai. He was able to process far too much information in those few seconds you were in danger. All of his mistakes, laid out for him as plain as day.

He tends to convince himself that he can plan around every kind of incident but this is a start reminded that this isn’t always the case.

“Hey, bella?” His tone is unusually serious. His hand on your shoulder. “I’m going to need you not to do that again. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you die in front of me.”

If you pay close attention, you’ll notice Dazai doesn’t make any more double suicide jokes after that. They don’t have the same appeal. Dazai doesn’t think he could stand to watch you die, even if you did want to join him.

He keeps a close watch on you after that, turning up unexpectedly throughout your day without any explanation, his lanky form popping up like a weed.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

While he will never, ever reveal it, this will shake Fyodor’s iron-clad ego a little bit. He likes to think he is in control of everything, and he can predict every single action of yours down to the blink. For whatever reason, he didn’t foresee you getting in his way and taking a hit meant for him.

You gain an element of unpredictability, which is both intriguing and alarming for him.

There is also the fact that you stepped in to take a hit for him. While he’s used to having underlings who look up to him like a god (Ivan), he doesn’t count you amongst the peons. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, but in a way that promotes adoration and obedience, not self-sacrificing recklessness. He’ll have to step back and examine your relationship somewhat.

“My darling, what was the meaning of that?” he asks of you, his tone soft and a little dangerous. “I do not need you flinging yourself in the path of danger for me. I have everything in hand.”

He likes your devotion, but he doesn’t want you getting in the way of his plans. And he does care about you, love you in his own way—he doesn’t want to lose something he sees as his.

If you were injured at all, he will have the best private doctors on hand to treat you. Be prepared for his love and attention to be a little stifling for a while. He won’t want to let you out of his sight.

As for the person whose attack you foiled? Fyodor will turn the full weight of his enormous intellect to destroying them. They were dead the moment their attack came near something he cares about.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Fukuzawa is very much the self-sacrificing sort. He’s said more than once that he doesn’t mind giving up his life in order to ensure peace in Yokohama, or to protect the lives of the younger members of the agency. He’s heavily bound by duty.

While he holds these values to himself, he doesn’t expect you to abide by the same code. In fact, he doesn’t want you to. You’re not a grizzled old samurai like him. (His words, not yours.)

He also heavily dislikes the idea that you were in danger because of him. Your relationship with him shouldn’t be a source of danger for you. As soon as he’s sure you’re safe and well, he will sit back and mull things over in his silent, intense way. He considers all options, from simply killing the person who tried to attack him, to ending your relationship with him to ensure your safety.

Thankfully, he comes to the conclusion that you are an adult who knows what is good for you. He’s never hidden the truth from you, and if you’re willing to face that to stand at his side, then Fukuzawa needs to respect that. He can’t make your decisions for you.

“However,” he says. “I must ask that you do not do that again. I can accept my own death, but not yours.”

“Don’t you trust me to watch your back?”

“Obviously, you can be trusted,” he says. “Today is evidence enough, but know that I could not live with myself if you were injured or killed looking out for me. If death is coming for me, I have earned it.”

He can’t really be talked out of this mindset, but that’s part of why you fell for him in the first place. Just make him a promise that you won’t put yourself at risk on his behalf.

Kunikida Doppo

Poor Kunikida.

One of his ideals is that he will never watch anyone die right in front of him if he can help it. The last time he had to watch an innocent person die, it almost shattered his psyche.

If you were to die in front of him, it would break him utterly. Even though you’re fine, the close shave rattles him down to his core. Instead of blowing his top and then settling down, the way you’re used to him doing, Kunikida becomes grim and quiet.

He refuses to step away from your bedside while you’re in the hospital for a check-up after the incident. His notebook of ideals is folded in his pocket, ignored. The fact he isn’t scribbling anything down is a little alarming. He’s not Kunikida if he’s not adding little notes to it every five minutes. He has his hands steepled together, his face grim behind his glasses.

“Are you going to yell at me?” you ask him.

Kunikida lifts his gaze to you, almost as if he’s surprised to hear you speak. He breaks out of his reverie a little bit, sitting up and pushing his glasses further up his nose. The light hits the lenses, hiding his expression from you a little. His voice is sombre.

“I must thank you for saving my life,” he tells you, almost formal.

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” You know him well enough by now. You reach out and take one of his hands.

Kunikida fingers tighten around yours, trembling slightly. It’s the only way that you can see how completely off centre he is.

“Kunikida?”

“Don’t…don’t make me worry like that again. Please.”

#yokohama pound #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons #Nakahara Chuuya #Fyodor Dostoevsky #Dazai Osamu #Fukuzawa Yukichi #Kunikida Doppo #Chuuya x Reader #Dazai x Reader #Kunikida x Reader #Fukuzawa x Reader #Fyodor x Reader #angst

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