#osamu fanfic

[iloveslllycatss]

runa ml idrk if u do this type thing so if not ignore this but what ab osamu w/ an s/o who's atsumus bsf i feel like that would be so cute

also im working on the rq u sent me a few decades ago rn. im done with my procrastination era

𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴

𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘢𝘯: 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘣𝘩

❂ you were atsumus best friend since last year (first year)

❂ you loved atsumu but ever since you layed your eyes onto his twin brother, it was love at first sight fr.

❂ he was ur EXACT type. not that loud? check. cute? check. not a blonde 😐? check. tall and athletic? check.

❂ he was a walking green flag istg

❂ when u told atsumu about this little crush of yours, he FREAKED THE FUCK OUT.

❂ I’m talking full on fake feinting.

❂ he was supportive but it doesn’t come without teasing.

❂ before osamu met u-met u, he thought u were okay. sure u were pretty but that’s about it

❂ until he actually met u-met u.

❂ you guys met when atsumu wasn’t home and you went over to his house and stayed there to wait for him

❂ you guys surprising had a really good time together, lots of things in common 

❂ he likes to cook, you like to bake / he likes to play volleyball, you like to watch volleyball etc etc

❂ after you two got together it was like chaos found a new definition.

❂ at first it was hard to balance your time for school, your boyfriend and your best friend

❂ u slowly got used to it tho

❂ atsumu still loved to be around you. but there was absolutely NO WAY he would EVER stay to b a third wheel when osamu was around

❂ like one time you and tsumu were watching a movie and making fun of the characters together until osamu got home

❂ “hey baby, hi idiot.” 

❂ “hi samu !!” 

❂ you got up to hug samu and give him a kiss until u heard tsumu groan

❂ “oh come on the movie JUST NOW finished… i’m heading out, can’t allow myself to b a third wheel.”

❂ “sthu dumbass u just mad that u can’t pull sb as pretty as y/n”

❂ “samu ur so cute. tsumu u just mad u single”

❂ atsumu doesn’t even sleep in the same ROOM as u two when y’all cuddle

❂ because apparently “i don’t want to b there when u guys fuck 😞”

❂ hes dramatic asl

❂ you still hang out with him plenty though

❂ he is your best friend after all

this was so rushed fr. not proofread or nothing 😞 

jisu u hope u like this 😢 

@/ilovesillycats

plz don’t copy my work 😞 

[princess-of-inarizaki]

That dress looks stunning on you, but I bet it'd look better on our bedroom floor ;)

🦋Miya Atsumu x fem! reader,, trigger warning: suggestive themes/concepts, mentions of sex, implied 18+ (but nothing explicit). [note: characters ARE aged up to their timsekip! selves, and so is the reader—"kid" is merely a term of endearment.]

The MSBY party would be held tonight, and here you were; freaking out over a earring. Atsumu smiled as he waited outside to catch a glimpse of you. “Babe hurry up, yer' making me impatient” but you couldn't respond. Somehow, meeting his teammates, doubled over with the dress (which looked good at the time, but now seemed liked a horrible idea); made your stomach flop.

“Babe? Are ya okay in ther'?” asked Atsumu again, softly. “can you come out?”

Sighing in relief at the small earring hidden underneath your makeup pouch, you fastened it and took a few deep breaths before emerging.

Atsumu thought he had seen an angel, when he saw you walk out from behind the door. With your hair cascading down your bare shoulders, his eyes trailed down to the dress. Oh wow, that dress. It almost knocked the air out of him as he had never seen you in something so beautiful.

As much as the man wanted to gush on about how beautiful you looked, and how lucky he felt; after looking at your worried expression, he knew that'd have to wait.

“Hey kid, c'mere.” Atsumu gently pulled you to his chest, the buttons on his tuxedo grazing against your cheek as he ran his fingers down your hair. “Ya' look beautiful. I know yer' might be worrying about this dress, or meeting my teammates, but I promise everythin'll be fine.”

And somehow, he knew just how to cheer you up. He never minded you being insecure every once in the while, and his arms?? have you ever been held by Miya Atsumu and his impeccably strong arms? because when you spent the next few minutes just you cuddling into him in his tuxedo, as the skirt of your dress cascaded off the bed, all your worries melted away.

Before leaving, he blushed as you nuzzled your face into his neck one last time, and wondered how he had ever gotten so lucky.

“Oh wow, Y/n-san, I'm so glad to finally meet you!” said a owlish looking man. You recognized him, and gave him a small hug. “It's nice to meet you too, Bokuto-san”

Next, a short tangerine haired boy appeared next to you, and smiled sheepishly. He seemed to be jittering nervously as he waited his turn to introduce himself. “Hi y/n-san!! I'm Hinata!! Did you know Tsum Tsum' talks about you a lot?”

You smiled and nodded. “I talk about him a lot too, he makes me very happy.” upon hearing that, Hinata beamed and walked off to talk to Bokuto. Stifling a giggle, you thought of something funny.

Atsumu sauntered up to you, a blush evident on his cheek after hearing what you said to Hinata. “Don't mind them, if Bokkun looks like he's just ingested tonsa' caffeine, Hinata looks like he has coffee pumping through his veins. They're sunshines, though I'll never tell them that! annoying pigs” he said with a small smile. But the adoration he had for his teammates was plain to see.

“Omi-omi kun” Atsumu looked like he had seen a ghost as a tall and handsome man with curly hair peered at you from behind his mask. He nodded at Atsumu before leaving, which left him in a fit of laughter. “Omi's so terrifying, but I'm sure he has a good heart.”

The amount Atsumu respected that man was truly no joke. You smiled at the thought.

As the night progressed, your insecurities about the dress melted away whilst Tsumu' twirled you in his arms, and showed you off to his teammates. After meeting everyone, deep in your heart you knew you liked the "MSBY 4" (as they liked to call themselves) best.

Being quiet, you watched as your boyfriend lit up like a firework amongst his friends. But much like fireworks, they do slowly fall to the earth like sparkling dust when their time is up…

Which was… now?

“Y/n, baby? can we go home?” A tired looking Atsumu saddled up to you with half lidded eyes and a soft smile.

“I thought you’d never ask”

-

“That dress looks stunning on ya” he whispered as soon as you walked into the bedroom “but I’d bet it’d look better on our bedroom floor”

Feeling your cheeks grow hot, atsumu nuzzled his face into your neck, placing soft kisses there and deliciously revelling in how warm you felt under his touch.

“Strip, baby. We didn’t come home early for nothing, ya know?”

-

BYEEE haha i’m nineteen this year and more than legal enough to write the most deliciously explicit shit. But you know… when i find the time :’)

Ya girl is doing the toughest course on the planet. Hello A-level girlies. no no. Hello STEM a-level girlies. But you know we’ll get through this :)

Anyways enjoy this draft that i finished after like 3 years. I forgot what hashtags to put so uh yeah please repost i will love you forever and come out from under your beds to kiss you. on the lips. yes.

lots of love, Ari!! <3

[quirrrky]

GLIMPSE OF US 「TWO」

『MASTERLIST』 « PREV • NXT »

𐑂 1.8k+ words 𐑂 She's the only one he thought he’d ever loved—an important piece of his heart ingrained in his memory. She’s someone you could never be. Inspired by joji’s glimpse of us 𐑂 angst, hurt/comforttt???, mini-series

'𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬

It was autumn when you and Samu first met. It was a magical day for you. The very first time you laid eyes on each other, you immediately felt like he could be someone who would make an impact in your life. From there, your relationship and feelings developed. There was never a chance when you travelled back to the very first day you met just to remind yourself of the magic you once felt while with him, until now when you tried looking back, wondering if he's the same person you met that day.

It was so easy for him to let go of your hand, and in a heartbeat, you were a stranger and he belonged to someone else.

"Samu!" A man with much sturdier physique pulled Osamu for a hug. He pulled away, his blonde hair setting him apart from his twin. Atsumu.

"Look at you! Did you miss me, huh?" The blonde greeted, teasing his brother.

"What's with that try-hard accent?" Samu scowled. "You sounded awful just so y'know."

Despite them bickering, your attention shifted to the girl as she approached your direction. Your heart stopped, unprepared on how to interact with her. You didn't even know who exactly she was, what role she played in Samu's life and what happened between the two of them.

Osamu's eyes snapped sharply at her as she came nearer and all there was in the room, was her and him with you in the background. She went beside Atsumu and the blonde held her hand tight. "Just admit it. Dont'cha miss me and Eri?"

"Eri..."

The two shared a brief glance but it bore a lot of unspoken things.

"Samu..."

Your heart sank. All those times questions kept flooding in instead of answers while you're in his arms finally made sense. The confusion and uneasiness you kept shaking off, it was all in his eyes; right now, as he looked at her with the way he looked at you with that familiar gaze that held so much love and longing. All this time, what you thought was yours now seemed to belong to someone else and here you were just a placeholder for that very person.

Atsumu cut in and quickly followed through. "Oh, so wait, is this Y/N right here? Is she...the one you mentioned in the chat?"

Finally, you came into existence again.

Samu placed a hand at the small of your back and shivers ran down your spine not knowing what to feel about his show of regard. "Yes, this is Y/N."

Eri smiled at you. It was vague smile. A sweet yet bitter one. "Nice to meet ya Y/N."

Before you could even greet back, everyone was called to take a seat as the food would now be served. Atsumu took the lead, sweeping Eri off by the hand and Samu followed not even taking your hand in a hold like you both used to. Your hands curled in nervous fists. He never even casted a single glance at you.

You wound up in a long table occupied by their batchmates. Atsumu and Eri took the seats in front of you with Tsumu pulling the chair out for his girlfriend. Meanwhile, there was you and that was it as Samu had his laser-like focus on the couple.

"Oh, Eri and Tsumu are here!" One of the girls pointed out while the food was being served.

"Ahhhh...it's a surprise you ended up with Tsumu..." The red-haired girl reminisced. "We always thought it would be you and Samu."

You surely didn't miss the way Eri and Samu briefly looked at each other as if they're remembering the good old times.

The other girls agreed with a chuckle, while one of the boys seemed to have a recognition. "Oh, yeah! I remember Samu skipping volleyball practice then I just found him walking home with Eri."

And there was that exchange of look again that made you feel weak. Your hands were shaking as you reached for the glass of water as you tried to keep on a smile.

"And y'all remember the school play?" The girl with the glasses added.

"Hey! I was there too!" Atsumu protested.

"Yeah, but as a tree. You couldn't get the main role 'cuz all you ever do was practice." They laughed. "That's why Samu landed it with Eri."

They fawned. "Aww...you two were real cute back then."

"There was the class trip too, isn't it? Samu and Eri were paired together back then?" They added more fuel to the fire. You knew you would let it all slip and brush it all off, if Samu would only hold your hand and give it a tight squeeze in reassurance but no. You felt invisible even by his side.

"How 'bout Y/N right here?" Atsumu interjected and your eyes widened in surprise. "Tell me how did'ya meet my brother?"

"Um...we met at the shrine." You answered, unfinished.

You heard 'ooh's and 'aaah's from their batchmates as one of them threw the question back to Atsumu. "How 'bout you Tsumu? How did'ya end up with Eri?"

"Me?" The blonde giddily grinned. "We were school dance partners."

"Wasn't it supposed to be Samu too?"

"Yea, but I caught a fever." He said, with jaded eyes as he took a bite of his food.

You went to this reunion with hopes of getting to know your boyfriend even better and deeper. You weren't disappointed though. You really saw the real him, but you didn't expect that it would come with a heavy price. Trying to move past everything, you got the last piece of salmon from the plate not noticing that Eri wasn't able to get her share of it as well.

"Here, this is your favorite, right?" Samu said as he offered Eri his share of salmon.

You gulped heavily. Come to think of it, he didn't even know what your favorite food was. He didn't ask. You hadn't noticed all this time.

Everyone's attention was diverted at the Miya twins saying how they were the real perfect match, saying that while Osamu loves to cook Atsumu loves to eat. They laughed as Atsumu denied their claims all the while hastily munching down all the food only to end up excusing himself to the washroom. The table's attention was now shifted to different things as the three of you were left in dead silence.

Eri and Osamu didn't know where to begin, while you were barely existing all along. It was Eri who couldn't take the atmosphere first and excused herself to the washroom too, wiping her lips of possible food stain as she nervously stood from her seat. She forgot that her clutch was open and the contents spilled out just as she stood. Samu was instantly on his toes too as if assisting her was his very basic instinct.

"It's okay. I got it." She said as she picked her stuff up without looking at him. She went away and didn't come back until everyone was done with their food and some said their 'goodbye's.

Only a few was left when Eri came out with Tsumu in tow. The blonde has his head on his girl's shoulder as he had an arm wrapped around his stomach.

"Tsumu said his tummy was aching. I'll take care of him. It's alright."

Samu stood frozen at the sight of them so close to each other, bringing him back to reality. Yes, Eri was now his brother's. There's no way he could get in between them. She made her choice. It's not as if someone forced her to date Tsumu.

Osamu thought of his own shortcomings too. His complacency caused him to lose his chance. It was his brother who came forward to her. It was his brother who had the guts. Regardless of their feelings, Samu would never deserve her, because he was coward.

That was what ran into his head yet he knew he was lying to himself. It was unbearable to see the two people he loved the most together and he was nothing but someone who'd just tear them apart and cause them pain. Still, it hurt to watch her with him yet he knew how much Tsumu adored her.

Osamu was trying. He thought that he could get by but seeing Eri again brought back every regret he had in his bones. e swore all he wanted to do was run away, but he missed her too much that his heart was filed with too much happiness when just by seeing her doing well.

However, he couldn't also shake off the ache as he died a little everytime his brother's hand would end up in hers and how she would give Atsumu that smile that she used to only give to him.

Eventhough it was breaking him, here he would remain as coward, running from his feelings and resisting the memories of the past no matter how hard.

Samu approached the two to check up on his brother. "You ate too much." He said, voice laced with concern.

"Eriiii..." Atsumu whined and Samu sighed. The latter looked back as you tugged on his shirt.

"Family thing. I'll head out first." You said goodbye, wanting nothing but to go home.

Not to lie, you still hoped that maybe he'd choose you even at this small amount of time. And like food, your heart never felt so much lighter until Samu, himself, insisted, "I'll walk you home."

For the very first time, in that day, you thought there's still a chance.

You walked silently beside each other as you both tried grasping for the right words. You pretended to fidget on your fingers so you wouldn't expect him to remember holding your hand anymore. You avoided looking his way because you're scared that tears might just gush out from your eyes if he'd ever give you that gaze again. You inhaled deeply. Why did this feel like you're getting yourself used to be without him? You didn't expect that everything would fall apart in a day.

You reached your house, which was just two blocks away from his own. Mustering all the courage you had left, you turned to him and gave him the best smile you could. "Take care!"

He stood there as if he didn't know what to do yet when you turned your back at him, he called on your name and you couldn't help but to turn to him.

"Y/N," Samu cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. Then, he had his arms wrapped around you and you did the same like it was the most natural thing. The tightness of his hold on you spoke words and said everything and it’s enough. It was enough for you to realize everything. You bit back your tears as you rubbed circles on his back.

I know, I know  you're trying, but I'm also hurting...

Samu firmly closed his eyes in your embrace, begging that things were different. How he wished he met you earlier. How he wished the emotions he had was for you. How he wished that was you.

𐑂 AN : what other songs does this fic remind you of? 🤔 I’m curious...also, what do you think of this chapter??? oh, the taglist members are in the reply section! 

𐑂 TAGLIST : drop the ff emoji on my ask box to be added 😭

REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED ♡ Please help me reach other viewers. Thank you so so much!

© quirrrky 2022 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.  ✧ DAYDREAM MUSEUM ✧

[mae-gi-writes]

drunk on you | miya osamu

A drunken confession to your best friend.

>>>

Osamu is soft.

He's the complete opposite of his twin brother. While Atsumu is like a blaring horn that doesn't hesitate to make a lot of noise for nothing, Osamu is a quiet river that has hidden depths that can only rise to the surface when asked about it.

So soft is Osamu, that he cannot -- for the life of him -- push you off his lap where you've tumbled into it a few moments prior in a giggling, alcohol-infused fit.

"You're so cute," you blink at him, hands resting upon his shoulders as you try to stop yourself from swaying from side to side, "so, so cute. Like a marshmallow!"

"Y/N, you're drunk," Osamu's hands are at your hips, trying his best to lift you off. To no avail because you just splutter with more laughter at the look of his distresses face, "let's go get some water."

It's clear that if you had been in your right mind, none of this would be happening. Far from it.

"I don't wanna," your lips turn down into a pout. Your arms lace around his neck, "I don't wanna move!"

"Y/N," despite his initial annoyance, he can't help himself from chuckling at the way your head keeps flopping from one side to the other, "come on Y/N. You're heavy."

"But you're a big boyyy," you drawl as a finger traces his chin. You lean close, so close that your noses brush, "don't tell me you're scared, 'Samu."

"I'm not," he evades your other hand that almost whacks him in the face before managing to get a hold of your wrists, "how many drinks Y/N?"

"Hm?" You giggle again," guess!"

"How many?"

"Hmm."

"More than five shots?"

"Definitely!" You huff as if that offends you somehow.

"Seven?"

"Hmm nope!"

He goggles at you then, "more than ten?"

Your smile is coy as you say, "maybe?"

"No," he can't stop gaping and somehow his expression makes you burst out laughing, your palms pressing down ontp his shoulders, "oh 'Samu! Your face. Don't worry, I can take care of--"

You almost topple as you say it and thankfully Osamu's there to catch hold of your hips again, unvonsciously preasing you closer as you take this chance to bury your face into his neck.

"You--" you hiccup, a small smile garcing your lips, "you look gorgeous, you know?"

"Thanks," he rolls his eyes. He's currently more invested in figuring out how to make you move.

God knows you need sleep and a big jug of water.

"No but I mean," your head shoots up in protest, eyes narrowed, "like really really gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous. No wonder you have a beautiful girlfriend."

Maybe it's the way you're looking at him that causes his face to heat up. Suddenly, he feels a little flustered by your attention.

"I don’t have—a girlfriend," he croaks out while dropping his hands from you, "and that-- you shouldn't be doing that.“

"Ooh your girlfriend. She's so perfect, isn't she?" You coo at him, "that's why you don't answer my messages. We used to--we used to text, and--"

"Y/N, I really don’t have a girlfriend—“

“Don’t lie to me, ‘Samu. I’ve seen you with her,” you jab a violent finger at his chest with so much force that it actually hurts, face suddenly clouded over with anger, “you two always have something to giggle about. And you share your onigiri with her.”

“And that’s important because?”

He should stop you, really. Before it gets any worse. But he finds that he just wants you to keep going. Somehow, there’s this unfamiliar prickle of warmth crawling at the back of his neck.

“You never share your onigiri!” You burst out like a selfish child, ‘not with anyone, but me!”

“I’m sorry I might have hurt your feelings Y/N, but—“

"You better be sorry!" You shove his hands away with growing frustration, "that hurt, 'Samu! You--You don't know what you do to me and I--" at this point you're sobbing full-out, crumble into his chest like a withered flower and Osamu has no choice but to circle his arms around you, holding you close in a tight embrace, "--I love you. I love you so much 'Samu. I can't see you with her. It--it kills me."

There's a loud silence. It's so quiet you can hear a pin drop.

Osamu blinks at you, body frozen. You blink back, realization slowly dawning like ice cold water.

Oh.

Oh shit.

You clap a hand over your mouth.

Osamu's face is white.

"I--" you stutter out an excuse, "I--I didn't --Oh….” and your head falls to his chest with a groan, “shit. Shit shit shit.”

Osamu seems frozen on the spot. A picture in time.

It doesn't help matters that you're getting a little too comfortable in his lap as you try to find a solution the deep hole you've dug for yourself through the haze of drunkenness.

"Look 'Samu," you fumble with his shirt, manage to grab it after a few failed attempts, "can we just pretend this--this never happened? Please? Pretty pretty please?"

Still, he doesn't say anything.

You try blinking some sense back into you. Try to find something useful, anything to say really. But your words die halfway up your tongue and you feel like kicking yourself for being so stupid. Why in the world did you think that drinking shots one after another with Atsumu would be such a good experience?

You decide that you’re definitely going to kill the blonde twin later. After all this is cleared up.

A sigh escapes you then, you bury even closer to him on impulse, as if you’ve always meant to do so.

“I fucked things up, didn’t I?” Your murmur is half-coherent, slurred.

Osamu, biting the corner of his lips as he ponders what you say, finally manages to find his voice, “well…It depends what your definition of screwed up is.”

“Hmm. Maybe…that our friendship is…ruined forever?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Tears spring to your eyes, “oh no…I feel like I’m going to start crying…”

“Maybe not.”

“Huh?” Your eyes fly up to his then, noticing for the first time the silent storm that rages there. He’s quiet, and yet the way his gaze takes in your features makes you wonder what exactly is he searching for when all the answers are laid out for him on the table. The ball’s in his court.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, before suddenly reaching out to cup your cheek in his palm. It’s warm and you find yourself closing your eyes in bliss. You can feel the soft rough pads, the tear and wear from his professional volleyball playing years, “how drunk are you?”

You hum, “tipsy?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“A very confident five.”

He leans in closer, so close his nose brushes yours. Your entire body stills.

Silence.

Nothing but the loud beating of Osamu’s heart. Music plays in the distance, behind muffled walls.

There’s only you two, in your small bubble of intimacy. Osamu, so close. His skin, his body pressed up in all the right places that it causes you to flush right down to your toes.

Oh.

You don't think.

One minute you're gazing at the plushness of his lips. And the next, your eyes are closed and you're kissing him like you've needed this your entire life.

Osamu grunts from the shock, doesn't react for a few seconds.

You're about to pull away from mere embarrassment--

Only for his arms to cage you to his chest.

He tugs you to him and his lips catch yours in a kiss that causes your entire body to tingle.

Wow.

Wow is right.

You knew Osamu was a good kisser. How could he not be with those looks of his? But this, this is beyond what you've imagined. This is enthralling. Exciting. The shape of his lips curving along yours shoots tingles right up your spine.

A whimper escapes your throat when his tongue suddenly slips past your lips. He grips you tighter, fingers digging into the skin at your hip while his other skims up the back of your neck to hold you there.

Heat bubbles up through your stomach and you can smell, taste Osamu like you've never did before. Everything disappears, with only him as your center of gravity and out of impulse, your fingers slide to his scalp to card through his grey locks.

His grunt makes your tummy flutter. His kisses get harder, deeper. Pushing against you like a tidal wave that covers you with the kind of feeling that makes your blood race underneath your skin.

You gasp, but he swallows it down. He tilts his head to the side, the angle taking you by surprise as his fingers start tracing up your spine. You shudder against him, tugging even harder on his hair and causing him to grunt in satisfaction.

His mouth finds your jaw when you finally detach your lips from each other, shaky inhales of peppered kisses against your skin as your head tilts back on its own accord like a flower bathing in sunlight. Your hips unconsciously rock into his and the strangled growl that tears through his throat makes you blink in surprise.

You look down at him, the realization that you're currently in his lap finally hitting you like a pile of bricks.

He probably feels your hesitation, for his mouth soon leaves your skin so he can look up at you through half-lidded eyes, "what's wrong?"

His throaty murmur is enough to send your thoughts into spasm.

"N--Nothing," you stutter out, "just uhm-- well, suddenly I don't feel so drunk anymore."

"That's a good thing...right?"

"R-Right."

A small silence fills the room. You can hear the sounds from downstairs slowly come back to you as the urge to hide grows stronger. Suddenly, it doesn't feel as enticing to be in your best friend's lap. Rather, you're a bit embarrassed.

"Y/N?" Osamu's soft murmur makes you focus back on him. The way his eyes search your face makes your neck tingle with heatwaves.

He's looking at you like you're the most delicate thing he's handled, the way his fingers flutter over your hips. Patient yet hesitant. Still there.

"Y--Yeah?" Your ears feel hot.

"Did you mean that?"

Of course you know what he's talking about. I love you. The words echo through your brain, makea you squeeze your eyes shut.

You open them after a moment, only to see Osamu already watching you.

"Yes," you finally mumble out, "I did."

You’re quiet again. But this time, you peek up at your best friend.

Only to see him blushing and looking away.

Almost like he’s embarrassed to hear such things. Almost as if…he’d been waiting to hear such things all along.

“Are you…blushing?” You manage to ask, more astounded than anything. Your heart does a small leap when Osamu merely turns away in hopes of hiding his face from you, to no avail, “you are blushing!”

“Shut up, Y/N,” he looks downright ashamed, face hitting a deep red, "I’m not…blushing.”

“You so are,” a smile breaks over your face before you can help it, “you’re so cute—“

“Sto-op,” his whine is muffled as he buries his face against your neck, “you’re so annoying.”

“But you like me.”

“I might take it back.”

“You can’t take those kinds of things back,” your arms wind around his neck, “and for the record, I threw myself under the bus there.”

“I kissed you first.”

“Well, I could’ve not responded to that.”

“Hm,” he grunts like an annoyed child, “you still confessed first.”

“But I’m not ashamed of that now, am I?”

“I’m not ashamed!” He looks up at you and it’s clear he’s almost losing all confidence. It doesn’t help that your smile is widening with every second that you spend admiring Osamu’s face.

You laugh. A full, deep-bellied laugh that makes his pulse beat under his skin, “Oh ‘Samu,” your eyes are twinkling like stars, head tilted to smile down at him, “you’re cute.”

He grumbles a little more, almost like a cat who’s got scratched on the wrong end of its back. He shifts then, moving you more comfortably into his lap as his nose nuzzles into your cheek.

A soft sigh escapes your lips. You can’t imagine how good it feels to be in his arms, to feel him around you, to smell his comforting manly scent.

“I have to admit,” you say after a long bout of silence, “I wasn’t expecting to confess to you today.”

He shrugs, “I wasn’t expecting to kiss you either but here we are.”

“It��s weird.”

“Weird…that we kissed?” Osamu’s eyebrow raises in suspicion.

“No, that it feels so…normal.”

His gaze focuses on yours for a moment. He exhales, “I think that’s a good thing,” he whispers out, hand shyly reaching over to tangle with yours.

Your heart skips a beat. You try to stop yourself from squirming. It proves to be harder than it looks.

Biting your lip, you try to halt the smile worming its way across your lips. There's a similar smile on Osamu's face.

Shyly, almost hesitantly, he presses his forehead to yours. Your breaths mingle together, warm and hot and enticing.

"So...do you wanna..maybe," his stutter is cute, deep red blush hwating up his face, "...go out tomorrow?"

"You mean, hang out?"

"N--No. I mean really go out." His hand squeezes yours for good measure.

You grin then, heart fluttering in your chest, "I would love to."

The smile that Osamu gives you back makes your tummy fill with butterflies.

This. This is what love is.

[greenlynnx]

So- hm- I found this on my ipad.. What do u guys think? Should I continue?

[tamanegi-san]

Inspired by @unicornpopcorn14 's immaculate fic about Dazai getting shipped to Russia in his 'house' by accident XD

Thanks for giving me permission to draw this!! :DD

[thedarkdisgrace]

Imagine an AU where everyone saw in black & white until they met their soulmate, then they saw colors for the first time.

Cue Dazai being kicked into a wall & upon opening his eyes the first colors he sees are within flaming red hair & piercing bright blue eyes. A green jacket hugging the kids figure as his foot remains planted on Dazai’s chest.

Chuuya sees stark white bandages across one eye and beneath an ill fitting white dress shirt. Dark chocolate colored locks. One honey brown iris with flecks of maroon shining in the sunlight. A black coat lying beneath him.

They both freeze for a moment, staring intently at each other, eyes blowing wide at colors they've never seen before.

Then they make eye contact, holding it for one beat, then two.

Then slowly it dawns on them what this means and, of course, their expressions move from awe to irritation. They bicker immediately, neither of them willing to give into fate.

Chuuya scoffs. "Oh fuck no, no way my *soulmate* is some shitty kid from the fucking mafia."

"How eloquent. As if such a tiny, brutish *slug* could ever be *my* soulmate." Dazai mocks in return.

Bonus points if the colors fade when they’re not together, until they accept they’re soulmates that is.

[chuuyrr]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 .ᐟ

feat. dazai, chuuya, fyodor

ꨄ˙ SYNOPSIS: bsd men as girl dads to their daughters

ꨄ˙ CW(s): f! mom! reader, established relationship (married to your lover ofc), fluff, short scenarios, not proofread

DAZAI was humming the quiet melody of his 'certain' song as he cradles his little one. the baby in his arms was sniffling, crying softly and practically looking at him with tearful brown eyes that resembles his. he gently hushes and cradles baby sonoko in his arms, his soothing hums a lullaby in the quiet room.

sonoko was a captivating blend of both you and dazai. with her dark hair that mirrored dazai's locks and the bright twinkle in her [color] eyes reminiscent of your own, she was practically a living canvas of your shared features.

dazai gently rocks baby sonoko in his arms, whispering soothing words to calm her cries. the soft glow of the nightlight illuminated the room, creating a serene atmosphere. he cradles her close, the warmth of his embrace a comforting haven.

"hush, my little one," he murmurs, his voice a gentle melody. "there, there, sonoko. daddy is here." dazai presses a tender kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with paternal affection, "no need for tears, little darling."

he softly sang a lullaby, the words weaving through the air like a protective cocoon. as the room embraced a peaceful stillness, sonoko's cries transformed into quiet sniffles.

dazai continued to sway gently, cherishing the precious moment of connection with his baby girl. he places her head against his chest, manipulating his heart beat into a calming rate to ground her with its sound.

you lay in bed, exhausted, but you find yourself smiling in the calmness of the night as you see your husband and daughter share a quiet bond, the world outside fading away. dazai's love for sonoko radiated in every soothing touch, a promise to always be there, hushing away any fears or tears that may come.

"you're doing that thing with your heart again, aren't you?" you whisper softly to dazai, quietly giggling.

dazai glances at you, still cradling the fruit of your love to his chest, he gently strides to your side and presses a lingering kiss on your forehead, "yeah, i am."

"i still don't get how you do that though, but it works, doesn't it?" you say softly as you see how your baby girl is all calm now.

you extend your arms to reach for sonoko but dazai gently refuses to do so, and he shakes his head as he insists, "shh, let me look after her. you go get some rest, darling."

"are you sure, osamu? sonoko can get a bit fussy," you ask softly as dazai uses his free hand that wasn't carrying sonoko to gently push you to lie back down in bed and pull the blanket over your chest.

"i'm certain. please, my love. you're exhausted from feeding her and looking after. it's daddy's turn to take over, okay?" dazai chuckles softly as sonoko began to coo and pat her tiny hands against her daddy, "we're ok."

"okay," you giggle quietly as you look at your husband and daughter, "try not to give your daddy a bad time, okay sonoko?"

sonoko merely coo and giggle at the sound of your voice before they intensified in volunme when dazai started to tickle her sides and pepper her cute round face in kisses, the rain of affection from her father making her happy.

CHUUYA sighs, holding baby saika in his arms as her cries echoed through the room. he paced around, trying to replicate the comfort saika found in her mother's presence—your presence.

although your child resembled very much like you, she got her traits and personality mostly from chuuya. she even throws quite the fuss when she was upset, and chuuya only realizes it now that you're away for a while.

"shh, saika, it's okay. come on, now." he whispers softly, his voice a mixture of reassurance and longing.

despite his best efforts to spoil her with affection, saika's cries persisted and he feels a pang of helplessness, "mommy will be back soon, little one. until then, it's just you and me, okay?" chuuya continued to sway, his touch tender and caring.

but saika's cries merely intensified, and chuuya's frustration grew. he couldn't replace the warmth and comfort that only her mother seemed to provide.

chuuya's heart sank as he looked down at his precious little one, her tear-filled eyes gazing up at him with a mix of sadness and yearning. he felt a wave of helplessness wash over him, an ache in his chest as he desperately wished he could ease her distress.

"come on, saika," chuuya whispers softly, his voice a blend of sorrow and affection. he cradles her even closer, tracing gentle circles on her back. "what's making you so upset, huh? don't you want toys? food? sweetheart, please."

saika's tiny lips quivered, and her cries persisted. chuuya's usual fiery determination waned in the face of his daughter's tears. money and gifts meant nothing in this moment. though he had her spoiled with everything and anything, she didn't seem to want any of those things as she would only squirm, kick and throw those things away in a tantrum.

in a moment of realization, chuuya gently sets aside the lavish toys and the carefully prepared food. he holds saika to his face and he looks into her teary eyes and finally, he understood the true source of her distress.

"it's not about the toys or the treats, is it, saika?" he muses softly, a smile forming on his face. cradling her up in his arms, he held her close, focusing on the simple act of giving her his undivided attention.

as he spoke soothingly to her, chuuya sensed the shift in saika's mood. her cries slowly gave way to sniffles, and she looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes. realizing that what she craved was the connection with her daddy, chuuya embraced the simplicity of the moment.

"dada's right here, baby," he whispers to saika, pressing a tender kiss on her cheek, "i got you."

in that instant, the room was filled not with the extravagant gifts he could provide, but with the warmth of a father's love that proved to be the most comforting of all.

he bounced her tenderly as he swayed around the room, the rhythm calming her sniffles. chuuya presses another soft kiss on her forehead, and saika's tiny hands clung to his shirt, finding solace in the familiar embrace.

as you entered the room later on, a tired yet content smile adorned chuuya's face. his hair was tied in a low ponytail with stickers and traces of food decorated his face. in his arms, little saika peacefully slept, nestled against his chest, her [color] hair braided with small butterfly clips.

chuuya looked up, and his eyes softened at the sight of you, "hey there, love," he greets you quietly, careful not to wake saika, "we had a little adventure, but someone decided it was time for a nap."

you couldn't help but giggle fondly at the adorable scene before you. the stickers and food smudges on your husband seemed like badges of a day well spent. saika, oblivious to your arrival, continued to sleep soundly in her father's arms.

quietly, chuuya rose from his spot, carefully transferring saika to her crib. as he joined you, he sighs happily and captures your lips in a tender kiss, "looks like our little one just wanted some dada time today." the exhaustion in his eyes was overshadowed by the joy of the shared moments.

"seems like it," you say softly as you wrap your arms around his neck as you kiss once again, "but hey, you did good. thanks for looking after saika."

"don't mention it, we're in this together. i can't have my darling wife do everything. you deserved a well-rested break today," chuuya whispers against your lips as nuzzles his nose against yours lovingly.

FYODOR cradled his precious lyubov on his lap, her wide eyes filled with curiosity. with a tender smile, he began to read from a novel, his deep yet gentle voice resonating through the quiet space.

"once upon a time, in the turbulent depths of the human soul, there lived a complex character named raskolnikov. he grappled with existential questions, much like the profound mysteries we face in our own lives," fyodor narrates, his gaze shifting between the words on the page and the wide-eyed innocence in lyubov's eyes.

as he continued reading, the intricate plot and philosophical undertones of the novel intertwined with the gentle rhythm of lyubov's breathing. fyodor couldn't help but adapt the narrative, transforming it into a bedtime story that echoed the complexities of morality and human nature.

lyubov, oblivious to the weighty themes, giggled in delight at her father's animated expressions. fyodor, in turn, savored the precious moments, cherishing the bond he was cultivating with his daughter.

as lyubov listened to her father's storytelling, a contagious giggle bubbled up from within her. with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she pointed at the novel in fyodor's hands.

giggling at the sight of her father's earnest storytelling, little lyubov couldn't contain her innocence as she pointed at the pages in amusement.

lyubov, with her jet-black hair cascading in waves down her shoulders, bore a striking resemblance to her father, fyodor. the deep purple hue of her eyes mirrored his own, reflecting a shared intensity that seemed to peer into the depths of the human soul.

yet, amidst these echoes of her father's traits, her features held a delicate familiarity, capturing the essence of her other parent—you. the gentle curve of her nose and the subtle arch of her eyebrows were reminiscent of your own distinct features too.

in a moment of quiet amusement, you turned to fyodor, your husband, a playful glint in your eyes, "isn't she a tad too young for stories like that, darling?" you ask, your laughter blending with the warmth of the dimly lit room as you enter your baby's room.

fyodor, with a gentle smile, glanced at lyubov, who had now nestled herself comfortably against his chest, before looking at you, "perhaps, my love," he replies, his voice carrying a touch of self-awareness, "but the beauty of storytelling is that it grows with the listener. however, if you insist, then i suppose i'll find tales more suited to her age, tales that will weave the magic of childhood without delving too deep into the complexities of the human psyche."

as lyubov cooed and giggled in response to your shared laughter, fyodor couldn't help but join in the merriment.

with a twinkle in his eye, he gently teases, "my, my. look at this, darling. it seems our little one has a taste for the profound, even if the words are a bit too deep for her tender age. perhaps we have a budding philosopher in our midst."

"perhaps, fedya," you say with a playful glint in your eyes, your lips curving into a smile.

you and fyodor share a tender kiss, the laughter lingering in the air as a sweet reminder that, in the midst of literature's complexities and parenting's challenges, there's always room for joy and lighthearted moments in the embrace of family love as lyubov was still nestled in fyodor's embrace, she continued to babble and gurgle, her infectious laughter filling the room.

ꨄ˙ A.N.: sonoko's name came from one of the dazai osamu's actual children. saika translates to fortune with its kanji meaning happiness and the moon. it was inspired by the poems of upon the tainted sorrow and the moon of the actual nakahara chuuya, but i purposely alluded the name to happiness instead. lyubov means love, and it is also the name of one of the actual children of fyodor dostoevsky. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

ꨄ˙ TAGGING.: @chuunai @aureatchi (っ'ヮ'c) ₊˚⊹♡ !

this is a queued post by the way . . .

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

[luvfy0dor]

“You Know That I'm Obsessed With Your Body ♡⁠˖” BSD Men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma, H.P. Lovecraft

Warnings; Suggestive, kisses, hickeys, bite marks, allusions to self harm (Dazai), sh scars (Dazai), prolly a little ooc

Description; BSD men and their physical attributes

A/n; CAS lyric title!!! But I cannot bring myself to write reqs RN so............but guys i actually talked to a guy OMG never thought I'd have big enough balls but I got his ig ^w^

⑅Chuuya Nakahara⑅

Chuuyas arms are beautiful to you, they're not insanely buff and they're not thin, but at a perfect equilibrium. They're decorated with intricate tattoos and beautiful colors, and sometimes small dotted lines left by your teeth or maroon spots formed by your love and passion for each other. You loved feeling them wrap around your torso or waist with him leaning his head against your back, letting all the thoughts in his mind flow from his mouth like a waterfall. Other times, he'd hang his arms over your shoulders, letting you feel his biceps against the nape of your neck, ghosting over the baby hairs on your skin. His arms can carry you too, no matter your weight. If it'd make you feel better, he'd use his ability to help and reassure you that he won't drop you or let you get hurt.

“There we go, darlin', see, I told you I wouldn't let you get hurt. Literally not even the strongest gust of wind could knock me over with you right now, so quit worrying.”

⑅Osamu Dazai⑅

Dazai has such a gorgeous torso, bandaged or not. His skin is soft on contrast to the rough and volatile life he's always lead. The only patches of skin that aren't smooth are the ones that are littered with past scars, whether self inflicted or from other people. When Dazai trusts you enough, he'll ask you to help him take off his bandages before bed, letting your fingers brush over the rigid bumps and sharply inhaling while adjusting to your sweet touch in a new, naked place. He lets you kiss the scars and it helps him feel a little relaxed receiving your acceptance through soft kisses and affection instead of being pitied or shamed for his past. It's not like you encourage it, but you don't waste your breath on lecturing him on why he shouldn't have. It's in the past, so instead you'll offer your support for him now rather than dwelling on what you can't change.

“Mmnn...your lips are so soft on my back, baby...keep going, sweetheart, you know how much I love feeling your kisses on my skin...”

⑅Nikolai Gogol⑅

Nikolais thighs could resurrect a dead man, and you couldn't help but feel the same way every time you had your head between or against them. Occasionally your hands would hold them apart and squeeze or grope at them, feeling the firmness beneath the palm of your hand. The pressure from your fingertips leaves temporary pale spots with every pinch and your teeth and tongue leave red ones in your wake as you kiss, suck, and bite all over his thigh, and he loves it. Nikolai loves the harsh feeling of your teeth clamping around his skin, making him gasp and giggle in excitement with a hand on your neck encouraging you to continue. He's got a higher pain tolerance, so if you like to give lovebites, especially on thighs, he's your guy.

“Ah-! Oh, don't worry dove, it doesn't hurt. You know I have a good pain tolerance! You can keep going, hehe, I don't mind it.”

⑅Fyodor Dostoevsky⑅

Fyodors hands are thin and pale aside from some select spots with higher blood concentration. His nails are bitten down to the quick almost always and his fingers are bony and thin. They rest gently on your hips when you sit on his lap while he types or just relaxes with you, his thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric of either your top or bottoms. Sometimes they'll travel upwards, resting against your midsection and making you shiver from their low temperature. He'd laugh under his breath at your reaction and slide them further up, loving the idea that he has you squirming in his grasp. Otherwise, he'd keep a hand on your thigh, rubbing it out of habit modestly. In public he keeps his hands to himself, but in private his hands have a mind of their own.

“Are they that cold, Moya Lyubov? You'll get used to it eventually, unless you'd like to find your own way to warm my hands up?”

⑅Sigma⑅

Sigmas jawline is so defined and Everytime you look at it, an overwhelming urge to kiss along it bubbles up inside of you. Sigma doesn't dislike it, but he'll act like he does, always squirming and playfully grimacing. Eventually he'll give in though, holding your hand while you pepper soft pecks along his skin. He'll return them all over your cheeks and nose, tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can't help but watch Sigmas fingers trace over his jawline while he's deep in thought about this that and the other, admiring how perfect it looks on him.

“H-hey, knock it off, I'm in the middle of fillin' out papers! I said quit it- huff...fine, just a few though! You're really distracting, you know that?”

Bonus; ⑅ H.P. Lovecraft⑅

His hair is so long and luscious- how could you not want to run your fingers through it while your sleepy boyfriend lays his head in your lap? The upper half is smooth and straight while it changes into silky curls towards the bottom, though they're not the tightest and allow for your fingers to brush through them with minimal effort. He loves the feeling of your hands against his scalp, giving soft hums and groans of a relaxed pleasure. His face has his usual neutrality regardless of how nice it feels to get his head massaged by his lover. He frequently lets you pull it into a ponytail or put it into braids or whatever style you please. He lets you brush it, too, as long as you start at the bottom instead of ripping the brush through his hair.

“Mnn...that feels nice, dear...don't mind if I fall asleep on top of you, I can't help it.”

A/n; I feel so bad for not getting to requests, something like this was the easiest thing to do this week though because I had mock trial comp right after school so i couldn't write anything from 8am-7;30 pm some nights and it was the end of the quarter so i had to focus more on school work.

[stuffeddeer]

It's late.

Dazai feels a little ashamed, if he were to be honest. How pathetic is it that he's unable to sleep unless in the arms of his coworker? A little pathetic. His eyebrows furrow as he begins to pick the lock to your apartment.

It's late. You're probably asleep.

He's jealous. Yeah; the clenching feeling in his chest is jealousy from your ability to sleep through the nights (a feeling of his that isn't shared towards his well-rested coworkers). You're asleep, and he should be. He will be.

The door clicks quietly, and Dazai doesn't react. How many times has he broken into your apartment? The question is left unanswered as he saunters into the place, making sure to close and lock it behind him.

You're asleep. It's late.

He makes a pit stop by your kitchen, staring blankly into your fridge like he'd do if he lived here. He counts the number of half finished water bottles littering the shelves, dispersed in between random ingredients you don't open and snacks that are dwindling in number.

If Dazai lived here, maybe he could make you dinner sometime. Gather the ingredients to fill your fridge, put a pan on the stove — however people cook, he can't remember. The fridge closes quietly; It's late. You're asleep.

With a final glance towards the sink, taking note of the dirty cutlery delicately balanced around the edges, he makes his way into the hall. Three steps and he'd be outside your door, your bedroom door, where you're asleep.

Dazai pushes away the same thought that keeps appearing in his mind. Of course you're asleep, it's late.

He turns away from your bedroom and finds himself standing in your living room. It's happily lived in - cushions that have lost their fluff, a blanket strewed across the couch haphazardly. His hand runs over it; always the same blanket. Dazai can imagine sitting under this blanket on the couch with you, the couch you two would share, watching some movie on your small tv just across the small room.

If he lived here, he'd make sure to tidy up the living room before you two went to bed. You kept a basket of blankets just next to the tv, and Dazai could easily drape the blanket back into it before following you off to bed. For now, he leaves it; There'd be no trace he was here come morning.

Once again, he finds himself mere steps away from your bedroom door. You live alone, for now, and yet keep the door closed every night. Is it habit? Are you worried some barbarian will break in just to watch you sleep? (Dazai isn't here to watch you, of course; He's here to sleep as well.) If that is what you're worried about, he could always spend the night with you, just to make sure you're safe. Well, spend the whole night with you, rather than breaking in late and sneaking out early.

Dazai turns into the bathroom.

You have the cutest rug next to your shower, one that always makes Dazai smile. A tough persona is applied at the agency, so only he is privy to your cute pink Sanrio bathmat. It's not what he would have expected for you, and that's what makes him smile. Your counter holds an electric toothbrush and has a lot of clutter Dazai wants to sort through. If he lived with you, he could place his toothbrush next to yours and keep your hair care stuff in the cabinet below. Maybe one day you'd let Dazai comb your hair, with a brush or just his fingers.

It's late. You're asleep. The same thought Dazai has been pushing down since he began the walk to your apartment fills his head once more. He's not delusional, no, but what if you weren't asleep? What if you were waiting up, just for him?

His hand touches the doorknob. It's late. You have no reason to think he's coming. The door opens slowly and quietly as he peers in.

You're asleep.

Dazai's chest constricts and he can't help the frown pulling at his lips. Of course you're asleep; He's stupid to get his hopes up. If you were awake anyway, you'd kick him out and probably call the cops. He is trespassing right now, at a time when you're most vulnerable.

Still, Dazai slips into your warm, cream-colored sheets, his hands clasped together under his cheek as he lies on his side. You're so calm, so serene under the dull light of a street lamp just outside the bedroom window. Hesitantly, Dazai's hand moves to brush a strand of hair from your face, the tips of his fingers experimentally tracing your skin.

His eyes flutter shut when you move closer. Were you used to his presence? Dazai likes to think you need him to sleep as much as he needs you. Sure, you could fall asleep without him curled up beside you, but maybe he was soothing nightmares. The thought made him frown. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't be here. His eyebrows furrowed like they had when he first broke in — this is weird. This is illegal, too.

A frustrated puff of air leaves his mouth, his eyes shutting more firmly. Tighter, tighter — why isn't he asleep yet?

He curls more into himself, feeling ashamed and embarrassed and anxious and annoyed and-

Your hand moves from your chest to his, softly resting over his heart. The small smile resides back on Dazai's face as he relaxes, slowly drifting to sleep in your bed.

Light filters in through your sheer curtains, the sun kissing your face as you quickly wake up. The blaring of your alarm was the first thing you'd noticed, rubbing your eyes with one hand as you turned to shut it off. Just a few moments of peace, and then you'd get up....

Those few moments didn't come to pass before you were hit with a boost of energy, sitting up in your empty bed. Of course your bed was empty, no need to emphasize it. You live alone, did you expect someone to be there when you woke up?

[quirrrky]

GLIMPSE OF US 「ONE」

『MASTERLIST』 MOODBOARD • NXT »

𐑂 900+ words  𐑂 She's the only one he thought he’d ever loved—an important piece of his heart ingrained in his memory. She’s someone you could never be. Inspired by joji’s glimpse of us 𐑂 angst, hurt/comforttt???, mini-series

𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞

The stars glistened brightly, casting a beautiful light amidst the humid midsummer night. With your phone in your hand, you took a picture of the beautiful view of the sky. You smiled, remembering that Samu would love to see them too. He loved getting lost at the sight of the stars.

At the corner of the street, you saw another light beaming. It was Onigiri Miya. It must be closed right now, but Samu would always stay behind to tend with some things, enjoying the quietness and solitude. He might be overworking himself again. Like you would always do, you'd surprise him with a hug from behind while he was too busy with his ingredients.

From across the street, he was very visible from the window of his shop. The way he was so focused chopping and slicing. He must be exhausted now.

Quietly, you snuck into the kitchen without him noticing. You were about to tackle him when you noticed a little tear forming at the edge of his eyes. You couldn't help but reach for his face. Your curled fingers wiped the tear on his cheek. His head snapped to face you and his gaze met yours. His tired eyes had that melancholic touch like he was reminiscing, longing and searching. It wasn't long until tears pooled and overflowed.

"The onions." He said, turning his head away as he wiped his tears with the back of his arm.

You knew it was more than that. You always knew.

You cupped his face as worry clouded your expression. He sank in your touch and kissed the inside of your palm as he nestled in your grasp.  As much as you wanted to share the burden he was harboring deep inside, you settled on giving him comfort this way, thinking that this was the least you could do.

In your nine months together, you didn't bother asking why. Even if, deep inside, you wished for him to show just a little bit of the depth he'd been masking all this time. You were patient, not forcing yourself into that part of him he couldn't just share with you yet.

"I guess I was just tired." He said.

You gave out a smile and excitedly replied, "Oh! I passed by the convenience store today and got you a pudding. You like it, right?"

His attention was just lost in the sight of you as you mumbled, finally relaxing.  "Y/N..." He uttered, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. "Are 'ya happy?"

You gave him a quizzical look, a little surprised to his sudden question. Before you could even answer, Samu pulled your body close to him as he tightly wrapped his arms around your frame.

Somehow, a part of you was scared to ask him the same. Is he happy?

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. "I love you." He said and you saw his emotions reverberated through his quivering gaze. For whatever reason, you found yourself lost in questions. What was he thinking? Was he just fine? What's hidden behind that sad gaze that never left your eyes?

But you just smiled, thinking it was fine. Everything was...fine.

"I love you too." You reassured back, not knowing why your voice came in quieter than usual.

You both stayed at the shop a little longer. As per usual, he fed you with the new recipe he concocted and you told him about your day.

"Tomorrow, alright?" He said as he pulled down the steel accordion door of his shop.

"Yes, sir. I'll be there with you."

Samu put a hand on your waist and dipped his head down to place a kiss on your forehead.

You firmly closed your eyes. Your breath got caught in your chest as you were trying to stop time as much as possible, wishing you'd remain still in his arms like this. The way you felt his warmth coming through, his soft scent and the familiarity of his presence. It's in moments like this, that you felt loved by him and found yourself realizing that you really loved him.

You put on your best clothes, excited that Samu would introduce you to another side of him that you still never got to know of. Immediately, you ran toward him and he took hold of your hand as you walked going to Inarizaki High.

"I wonder how things would turn out if we ended up as schoolmates back then?" You asked Samu. It was just around more than year ago when your family moved to Hyogo from Tokyo. That’s when you met him.

"How I wish you were the one I met a little earlier." He replied with a mellow expression and it brought you more questions than an answer, but like always, you shook the uneasy feeling away.

You entered the hall, preparing yourself to encounter the people he basically grew up with, when all of a sudden you felt Samu froze up. Instinctively, he dropped your hand and it fell harshly on your side. You glanced up at him. You felt waves crashing down inside you, seeing the look in his eyes and uncovering where he was looking at. Even among the crowd, you knew she was the one. The only one Samu had his eyes on. The ache, longing and...happiness behind his gaze. It was all for her. All because of her.

At that very moment, it felt like you weren't even there, as if all this time, you never even existed.

𐑂 AN : finally! it’s very unlikely for me to write angst but here we are. tbh, idk anymore. idk if this will work or if anyone will actually read. I just wanna write this regardless. I just hope that I will get the emotions through to who ever will or have decided to pick this up. thank you in advance.

𐑂 TAGLIST : drop the ff emoji on my ask box to be added 😭

REBLOGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED ♡ Please help me reach other viewers. Thank you so so much!

© quirrrky 2022 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means. ✧ DAYDREAM MUSEUM ✧

[lunamochii]

you're the blue text ; they're the gray/grey text

bokuto, atsumu, osamu, kuroo, oikawa, suna, sugawara, sachiro

[kolyasupremanxy]

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰/ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 , 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 , 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥 , 𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲 , 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

𝐀/𝐧: I enjoyed writing this coz i love playing with ppl's hair lol, thanks anon! ANON HUHU SRY I accidentally deleted your request cuz i forgot to schedule it later and it got posted too soon so i deleted it TT. Sorryyy

—𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚

Chuuya leaned back on the couch, his head resting on his s/o's chest. He closed his eyes and let out a content sigh as their fingers played with his hair. It was a feeling he had grown to love, and he couldn't resist the urge to let out a small chuckle.

"You really love playing with my hair, don't you?" he asked, a smirk on his lips.

His s/o smiled down at him, their fingers still tangled in his hair. "Of course I do. It's so soft and silky, and it looks amazing when it's styled."

Chuuya couldn't help but feel a little bashful at the compliment, but he was also secretly pleased. He tilted his head back a little further, allowing his s/o better access to his hair.

"You know, you're the only one I let do this," he said, his voice softening.

His s/o's hand stilled for a moment before continuing their gentle strokes. "Really? Why's that?"

Chuuya chuckled. "Because it's just for you. I don't want anyone else touching my hair like this."

His s/o smiled down at him, their eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I feel honored then."

Chuuya let out a small laugh before tilting his head up to look at his s/o. "You know, I love it when you play with my hair like this. It's so relaxing and calming. It's like you're lulling me to sleep."

His s/o smiled softly at him. "That's the idea. I want you to feel calm and relaxed."

Chuuya closed his eyes again, his breathing steady and calm. He was so comfortable in this position, and he knew he could stay like this forever. He was glad that his s/o loved playing with his hair, and he couldn't imagine anyone else doing it quite like they did.

—𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮

Dazai snuggled closer to his s/o, enjoying the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. He let out a contented sigh, feeling relaxed and at ease in her arms. He loved the way her touch felt against his scalp, the gentle tugs and pulls sending shivers down his spine.

"Your hair is so soft, Dazai," she said, her fingers continuing to run through his hair.

Dazai chuckled. "I'm glad you think so. I've always taken good care of it."

"I can tell," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and affection.

Dazai closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her fingers, letting himself get lost in the moment. He felt safe and happy, knowing that he was loved and cared for. He shifted slightly, snuggling even closer to her and resting his head on her chest.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as she continued to play with his hair. Dazai let out another sigh, feeling completely content and at peace.

"Thank you for doing this," he said, his voice soft and quiet.

"For playing with your hair?" she asked.

"For everything," Dazai replied. "For being here for me, for loving me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

His s/o smiled and leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "I'll always be here for you, Dazai. No matter what."

Dazai smiled and closed his eyes, feeling grateful and blessed to have her in his life. He knew that he could always count on her, and that thought brought him a sense of peace that he had never known before.

—𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐨𝐥

Nikolai's s/o brushed her fingers through his hair, playing with the long braid that rested on his chest.

Nikolai let out a contented sigh and shifted his head, getting comfortable in his s/o's embrace. "You always know how to make me feel relaxed," he said.

His s/o smiled softly. "Your hair is so soft and nice to play with. It's like running my fingers through silk."

Nikolai chuckled. "I take good care of it. It's important to keep it in good condition."

"I can tell," his s/o replied. "It's always so shiny and smooth."

Nikolai hummed in agreement, enjoying the soothing sensation of his s/o's fingers running through his hair. "You know, I never used to let anyone touch my hair like this," he said. "But with you, it feels natural and comforting."

"I'm glad," his s/o said. "I love being close to you like this."

Nikolai closed his eyes and relaxed, savoring the feeling of his s/o's gentle touch. It was moments like this that made him feel truly content and at peace.

—𝐅𝐲𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐬𝐤𝐲

Fyodor shifted slightly on his s/o's chest, adjusting his position so that he could continue reading comfortably.

His s/o's fingers ran through his hair, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"I could do this all day," his s/o said with a contented sigh.

Fyodor opened his eyes and looked up at her. "I wouldn't mind that," he said softly, placing a bookmark in his book and setting it aside.

His s/o smiled down at him, continuing to run her fingers through his hair. "You have such soft hair, Fyodor," she said.

Fyodor tilted his head back slightly, a small smile playing at his lips. "I'm glad you like it," he said.

His s/o leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead before resuming her ministrations. "It's relaxing, you know?" she said. "Just sitting here with you, playing with your hair."

Fyodor closed his eyes again, letting out a soft hum of agreement. "It is," he said. "I feel...content."

They lay there in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company. Fyodor's s/o continued to play with his hair, and he continued to relax into her touch.

Finally, Fyodor spoke up. "Thank you for being here with me," he said.

His s/o looked down at him, a soft smile on her lips. "Always," she said. "I'll always be here for you."

Fyodor reached up and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. "I'm grateful for that," he said. "Truly."

—𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚

Sigma was comfortably lying on his s/o's chest, his long hair fanned out around him as his s/o played with the soft strands. He was engrossed in the book he was reading, but he couldn't help but smile contentedly at the feeling of his s/o's gentle touch on his hair. It was one of the many small things he loved about their relationship.

As his s/o continued to play with his hair, Sigma let out a small sigh of contentment. "You know, I could get used to this," he said, glancing up at his s/o with a smile.

His s/o chuckled softly. "I'm glad you're enjoying it. I love playing with your hair."

Sigma closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of his s/o's fingers running through his hair. "It's so relaxing," he murmured. "I feel like I could fall asleep right here."

His s/o laughed again, their fingers continuing to work through the tangles in Sigma's hair. "Well, if you do, I promise to keep you safe," they said teasingly.

Sigma chuckled softly, snuggling closer to his s/o. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he said, the warmth of his s/o's body seeping into his own.

For a while, the two of them simply lay there in silence, the only sound the turning of pages as Sigma read his book. But eventually, Sigma set his book aside, turning to look up at his s/o with a smile.

"Thank you," he said softly. "For everything. I love you."

His s/o smiled back, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Sigma's forehead. "I love you too," they said, their fingers never stopping their gentle movements through Sigma's hair. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And with those words, Sigma closed his eyes, feeling safe and content in his s/o's arms. He knew that no matter what happened in life, he would always have his s/o by his side, ready to offer comfort and support whenever he needed it. And for that, he was eternally grateful.

Do Not Copy or Plagiarize Any of My Works. Reblogs Are Very Appreciated.

[chocsra]

✧ you stir away from dazai's embrace when…

he pulls away softly, exhaling gently as he gazed over your disturbed face and overly relaxed body. burying your face into the junction of his bandaged neck further.

"[y/n].." the brunette feigned a chuckle and stroked your velvety locks to capture your undivided attention, "[y/n]." dazai whispered, the slightest smile appearing on his usually cryptic features. but you further concluded through a hazy gaze, that his smile, usually concealed with a layer of deceit, was ever so genuine. "hmm?" you smiled back, a subdued groan pulling from your chest as you stretch your limbs, arms quickly encircling back to hugging his slim waist. "i wanna show you something.." he murmurs, lips placed on the top of your head with a pout. raising a brow at your boyfriend's proposal, you lift your gaze to his umber eyes.

"my bandages." dazai fiddles with his fingers almost awkwardly, grazing over the rougher texture of the bandages; a rather different approach compared to his skin. "what about them?" you question, reckoning to leave his turbulent concerns and just bury yourself back into his chest. the young detective huffs out a frustrated sigh; almost childishly, annoyed that you were completely fine with his bandaged limbs and didn't get what he wanted.

"off. i think i wanna take them off." —a phenomenon you would've never thought dazai osamu would ever allow to, especially suggest. you slowly nod, your fingers grazing over his knuckles, "you sure?" dazai liked the texture of bandages, it hid his skin, what laid underneath, and the texture was just.. comforting. a proud pleasure of his the detective never tried to hide; the shielding feeling of bandages. the brunette seemed nervous, almost terrified that he was going to let this go right now. dazai figured that if you were going to be with him, you should be with all of him. "mhm, i.. i wanna feel you forreal."

and so, carefully, he unwrapped the bandages off his fingers, then his arms, then his neck. and soon, the brunette sheepishly bared all of him to you—his version of all of him, at least.

dazai.. no, osamu, took this time to run his bare fingers through your silken hair. lips parting ever so softly as a pink blush tinted his cheeks, unfamiliar to this stricken feeling of just you. the detective giggles softly at your lovestruck smile, admiring such a rare and beautiful sight. osamu reached beneath your shirt, hands ghosting over your waist delicately, pulling you in closer for his fingers to stop and caress your lower back. you happily conceal your face into his bare neck again, intaking the soft scent of alcohol and fresh laundry. when your lips are pressed against his neck, dazai stirs and giggles faintly, moving his arms into encircling your shoulders, pulling you close to just card his fingers through your hair. intake your delightful and familiar scent, and giggle at each other's intimate vulnerability.

during a night such as this, being completely vulnerable to each other was rare, but you'd continue to bask in it for many nights, evenings, and days to come.

w/c: 524

✧ chocsra™

[cryslut]

Yan BSD Men - Lengths

「 Fyodor ~ Chuuya ~ Dazai ~ Tetchou ~ Jouno ~ Nikolai 」

- in which the bsd men cast go to certain lengths to be with you

- gender neutral reader

- content warning: yandere themes, mentions of: manipulation, torture, murder, mental, emotional n physical abuse, etc

(some of this may potentially be out of character)

not proofread so possibly grammatical errors.

↳ Fyodor Dostoevsky

Fyodor is one of those men who just love to play around with what is his. When he sees what he wants, it will be his. And that goes for you. Since he's very calm in any situation he ends up in. He happens to remain his composure completely around you. You belong to him. You just don't know it yet.

The things he does just to get you to be his is almost anything. He doesn't show his emotions all while doing so either to throw you off if you ever noticed or took hint what was going on.

He found his way to manipulate you into joining alongside him in the 'Rats in the House of the Dead'. That way he'd be closer to you than he was before, which mostly consisted of him stalking you from time to time. He had to keep an eye on what was his after all, right?

He eventually took action into his own hands, he wanted to get close to you as much as he could. He just had to draw you in. So the best way to do that, was for him to drag you around wherever he went doing whatever he was doing. Almost like it was your newest job and it had to be done and fulfilled by you, being his newest partner.

You of course obeyed his every word, cause he was your boss after all, and you had to obey him. Plus the chance of a lifetime was being able to work alongside him as a partner. At least that's what everyone thought and what everyone strongly truly believed. You however didn't have a full opinion.

But Fyodor knew this and he would soon make you believe the same. Pulling you in more and more. Wrapping you around his finger until eventually you really fell for him.

But in the meantime, he's just going to have to stick to what he's been doing for a while. Keeping you around as much as he can. Making sure you're safe. And best of all make sure that he can make you his, he wouldn't stop until he achieved this after all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya has lost a lot, and knowing this fact he was solely convinced of the fact that he would lose you too. So this made him very crazy when it came to you. He would find any way to make sure you were around him at all costs.

After joining the Port Mafia, he grew a strong interest in you and eventually you two were paired up for an assignment so this gave him a window of opportunity to get closer to you than he was before. On said assignment, he made sure you were okay at all times but all the while trying not to completely show it because he didn't wanna seem like he cared too much.

Chuuya overtime had such an unhealthy obsession with you it drove him insane. Seeing people trying to get near you really drove him towards the edge — making him want to kill said people. If someone hurt you or attempted to, they would get their ass handed to them. He'd always be there for you for certain things.

He'd try not to show it but eventually it would through his actions when those that get in the way that were a threat would disappear without nearly any trace. And those who tried to do anything bad to you, he'd either blackmail or just kick them to the curb. He's super overprotective overall.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Dazai Osamu

Dazai like his usual normal self is very flirty with you — and seems just overall sweet like his usual self. After you joined the Armed Detective Agency, getting to work with the brunette haired man, it came abundantly clear to himself that he was really fond of you. He was starting to have deep strong feelings for you that grew into an unhealthy obsession.

This led him to doing things just for you. He'd of course keep you safe, he'd find whatever ways he could to protect you. He's a confident man so his confidence really hid the fact well — that he was doing everything in his power to keep you for himself. His protection turned into manipulation. Then his manipulation turned into a violent need to hurt those who you always got into fights with you.

He's able to persuade you in any way and you fall for it everytime. You fall for his tricks, his lies, his manipulative behavior, everything he does though is for you, right? His need for you is his reason for his need for blood shed and doing things you would never imagine him doing. But again, it's all for you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Tetchou Suehiro

Tetchou is a little different than the others, he doesn't seem like he'd be into anyone but he grows quite the thing for you. After you ended up becoming apart of the hunting dogs, he admired you for your hard work and dedication towards the cause. He also admired you for your strength and your abilities.

But overtime this normal admiration turned into him being in love with you, obsessed with you. This man is more of a strong need for justice type so he doesn't use murder to get with you. He doesn't use lame tactics like manipulation either.

His admiration went from obsession which meant he would be very overprotective over you, making you feel safe with him more and more — in case there was never a fight you couldn't handle, he'd be there to protect you. He'd be there to help you through it. He tends to get himself closer to you by spending more time with you, alone time to be precise. He'd take you out on little friendly dates for brunch or something of the like. These dates were more than friendly for him — as for you, you weren't aware.

He'd make you help him train which in return he'd help you train. Making you stronger so he'd make sure if there was ever a moment you needed to be safe — your strength alone would be enough. In case he wasn't there to protect you, to help you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Jouno Saigiku

This man looks so sweet but on the inside he can be quite sadistic in nature, enjoying the thought of messing with his victims in the worst way. This is usually the case with criminals — but when he met you, this quickly changed. He didn't really care who it would be, he would hurt whoever just about got in his way of you two being together.

After you joined the hunting dogs, you got close with some of the members and he was fine for a while until eventually an obsession grew for you. His undying love sunk in and he became the worst.

And if you did something he did not like that would upset him, he'd keep his normal composed attitude in the light — his very dark hint of his personality however was there, you just didn't see it. If you don't do what he wants he will threaten it out of you. He will find any thing he can use to his advantage to get you to be willing to do as he demands.

It could be threats to your loved ones, to you, to your friends, to anyone you deem close to you. He will threaten and blackmail you to his hearts content if it gets you to listen.

His other methods would also include hurting you. Torturing you in any way he could. Whether that be mentally or emotionally or just physically if it ever got to that point. He'd mostly mess with your head. Psychological torture was best fitting because he wouldn't want to hurt his beloved, now would he? He'd be so upset if he ever had to lay a hand on you but he always tried his best not to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

↳ Nikolai Gogol

This man is so cheerful at times and it throws you off a lot. He always has to question you alot and annoy you with his usual quizzes. He was like this towards you when you first met him. After meeting Fyodor and becoming a member of the Decay of Angels — he found you quite the interesting one.

That little small interest eventually grew into him having strong deep feelings for you, and he realized this too. Overtime his quizzes got more frequent, his happiness got more loud and obnoxious. He was around you way too often. He practically clung to you. You just brushed it off as Nikolai being Nikolai.

But eventually when the jealousy kicked in when it came down to you, the rage did too. Anyone who tried to harm you, threaten you, or even flirt with you — this man did not like it one bit. Every single person who flirted with you disappeared. Every person who would harm or threaten you — would soon meet a terrible fate.

This man would constantly use his ability to torture them while laughing as it was happening. He didn't care cause he was doing it all for you. It was all because he loved you, he adored you, he wanted you, he needed you — and he was gonna have you.

He wasn't going to stop there until everyone who was an obstacle in his path would be gone, would feel every ounce of pain he could give them. He'd mess with his victims mentally and physically with his ability. Asking trick questions just so they felt like they'd got the answer right but in the end they didn't and he could hurt them all he wanted.