#Osamu

[kotton-kandy953]

━ 𝚂𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙴

➛ yandere!male headcannons × fem/gn!reader

title page┆word count: 0.5k┆warnings: second-person pronouns, slight anime spoilers (what he did before joining the ada), manipulation, methods of murder (bludgeoning, burning), murder, obsessive tendencies, suicide mentions, torture, toxic relationships, yandere themes┆a/n: this took me way too fucking long to write. writers block suckkkss

general ! yandere ! osamu dazai hc’s x g/n ! reader

❝ can I at least die knowing that you loved me as much as I love you? ❞

Osamu Dazai would be an overall unpredictable, manipulative, and possessive yandere; knowing exactly how to control you emotionally and physically.

Due to Dazai’s eccentric and unpredictable personality, you never know what he’s thinking in that suicidal brain of his. Especially whether or not his romantic advances toward you are genuine.

Dazai relentlessly flirting with certain people around him is completely normal, but there’s something about you that has especially captivated him. Was it the way you reacted to his romantic advances or… no, it was something completely different, right?

Its a well known fact that Dazai is quite literally obsessed with the concept of suicide. More specifically, committing double suicide with his lover. It’s not uncommon for him to constantly pester you with the idea, desperately pleading for you to hear him out on the offer. But as a person that values your life (I hope) you always decline his… kind offers…

Manipulation is easy for someone as smart and as skilled of a detective that Dazai is. It won’t take long for him to have you wrapped around his finger; but first he wants to come off as a friend. If you work for the ADA maybe even a close coworker, an annoying one, but still. He needs your trust in order to have your love.

Just think of it, maybe his manipulation could drive you into agreeing to do a double suicide with him? Now wouldn’t that just be beautiful? to him

Moving on, I do believe Dazai would kill for you. As a matter of fact, he would get rid of literally anyone for you, himself included; nevertheless, he would never even attempt to harm you.

But of course, an ex-mafia member wouldn’t mind getting his hands dirty for you, his darling. When he murders someone he deems a “threat”, it definitely isn’t pretty.

Long-suffering torture is the only way he’ll deal with them. Like watching them bleed out after being bludgeoned to death, or burned to death in an abandoned building, maybe even as simple as stabbing. No matter how gruesome or messy he has to get, Dazai will do to get them away from you, his love.

When Dazai has finally kidnapped you, he won’t be very strict when it comes to escaping. As a matter of fact, he’ll try to make you fell as comfortable as possible when with him. Providing you with shelter, food, a place to sleep… Despite kidnapping you against your will, Dazai doesn’t want you to hate him. Even if you never love him back, a simple case of Stockholm Syndrome will have to do. Because you’re never escaping him.

And if you ever do manage that feat, or at least try to, he’ll always find you and drag you right back to where you belong; right next to him. Right next to him forever.

THIS IS THE MOST IVE EVER WRITTEN FOR HEADCANNONS???? OMG!?? <333

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[kitasuno]

with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader

in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 

Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 

Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.

He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.

[bokutoko]

osamu didn’t really have a favorite color.

it wasn’t until he saw you after school one chilly autumn day, your face lighting up with the question, “is that jacket new, ‘samu?”

he nodded—he didn’t think too much of it when he got it for his birthday, so he surely didn’t expect anyone else to notice. “a gift from ma.”

“i like it, it’s my favorite color,” you took in his full appearance, your eyes looking him up and down, “it suits ya.” a cackle escaped you at osamu’s flustered face, only growing louder with him grumbling, “shaddup.” osamu’s biggest tell was always his accent thickening, and you knew it.

as winter came, osamu found himself wearing that same jacket to and from school every day, ignoring atsumu’s relentless “whadda simp” comments, as a part of him hoped you’d one day be chilly enough to need his coat.

and when that day came, with his jacket hugging your figure as you nuzzled in his leftover body heat, osamu found it hard to breathe.

in that moment, he realized he’d found his new favorite color—yours.

a/n: sorry osamu if reader’s favorite color is pink😔 bro’s looking like pepto-bismol.

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please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[makkir0ll]

private chef! osamu x ceo!reader.

you hired him because you had little to no time to make healthy meals, living off of microwave ramen most of the time. incredibly unhealthy so you hired a private chef. you didn't see him often, only in the morning for a couple of minutes as you ate your breakfast and occasionally he would stand across the counter preparing your lunch.

you can't deny that he's cute, brown hair and big biceps that are constricted from his black compression shirt, the way his muscles are flexed every time he moves. his cooking skills are an added plus. you thank whatever angel is watching over you to give you such a hot man who can cook your meals. but obviously, you had to keep it professional but that doesn't stop you from ogling at him and he doesn't notice either so there’s no harm. (he has noticed.)

and he's not one to complain either. he particularly likes it when you come home late. hair in a messy bun, the first couple of buttons from your work shirt unbuttoned a little bit and at certain angles he can get a peek of the lacy black bra you decided to wear that day.

but his top favorite is when you come out of the shower on those late nights, dressed in your victoria secret silk pajama set, hair wet, and cheeks red from the heat of the shower. you smile softly at him as you take a bit of the dinner he cooked that night and he always falls to his knees weak at the sight of your smile rather than the usual scowl on your face due to the annoying people you have to deal with at work.

and when you fall asleep on the couch as he cleans up the dishes he freezes, he's never seen you so peaceful. would it be breaking boundaries to carry you to your bed? no he thinks, i mean you back would hurt if you slept here all night he justifies as he slowly picks you up and places you softly on your bed.

one day he will get to do that and sleep with you in his arms. but right now he had to plan out your breakfast for tommorow.

@cottonlemonade bc it’s infesting my brain

[sun4r1nnity]

miya osamu x reader drabble

osamu hates it when someone else is in the kitchen with him.

he personally thinks its a hassle and slows down the work when there are more than one person in the kitchen. whenever someone offers help, he immediately declines, insisting that he can do it on his own. one time he got super grumpy because atsumu is too stubborn to leave him alone in the kitchen and fucking up the chopped vegetables. thats why he prefers to cook alone.

you, however, he doesnt mind. not that he lets you help him though, but he needs to feel your presence in the kitchen, " 's moral support," he said. he lets you yap while hes cooking, and will give comments and reactions to your conversation. 'oh d'you know about that old lady two houses across?' , 'i think im actually good at cooking, 'm just lazy,' , 'can we go to the ramen diner some time? heard it was good,' , ''m getting fat if you keep feeding me with your cookings,' . you may be quite the conversationalist, but osamu enjoys listening to you.

miya osamu may not enjoy others in his kitchen space, but for you, he would make an exception. even if you poorly chop the ingredients or botch the sautéing by overheating, he'll let it slide.

[toastyyjams]

may i suggest girlfailure fem dazai

[iinoruu]

sweet summer🍒

[nickolashx]

Eastern Mind: The Lost Souls of Tong Nou (1994)

Eastern Mind: The Lost Souls of Tong Nou is an unnerving 1994 point-and-click adventure game by Japanese artist Osamu Sato.

Rin wakes up to find that his soul has been stolen by a living island known as Tong-Nou. In his quest to restore his soul, he reincarnates as several different creatures, fulfilling their respective lives.

[cottonlemonade]

Pancakes After Sex

warnings: suggestive, mdni

Pancakes after sex have become somewhat of a staple for you and your husband Osamu. It started off as a weird craving when you began dating. That first time it ever came up was around 2 a.m. and you lay happy and satisfied in his strong arms while he played with your hair and brought your hand to his lips. His fingertips drew lazy patterns over the soft rolls of your hips and tummy and he wished he had as much stamina as he used to in high school to go on further. You were about to drift off to sleep when his stomach growled loudly and once your giggle fit had subsided you offered a short excursion to your kitchen to see what you could scrounge up for your ever hungry caterpillar of a man. Nothing. Not even a stray expired pack of ramen in the back of your pantry.

So Osamu whipped up some pancakes since milk, flour and an egg was at least available. You leaned on the counter, laughing softly and feeding each other bites before heading to bed for a good night’s sleep.

Now you watched your husband in his grey sweats whisking the batter, letting your eyes roam appreciatively over the rippling muscles in his back, so very glad he left his shirt on the floor where you’d tossed it a few hours ago.

Osamu makes the best pancakes and he is always happy to serve you a midnight snack.

[haikyu-mp4]

Top ten anime betrayals

word count; 541 – f!reader

Atsumu opened the door, a frown permanently etched on his face ever since he found out you invited your new boyfriend over for dinner. Osamu followed right behind him, eyeing the bat you had stationed behind the door.

Apparently, your mother already met their little sister’s boyfriend while he was sneaking out of the house, and she hadn’t told the twins. And being a Miya, she invited said boyfriend over to dinner to meet the family.

On the other side of the door stood Suna, dressed up in a white shirt and jeans, the top shirt buttons left open in typical lazy fashion. Your brothers sighed, disappointed. “We can’t hang out today, Sunarin.”

Osamu’s eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the two bouquets Suna held in one hand. “You brought us flowers, man?”

“They’re not for you, dipshits.” Suna pushed past the twins with a smug smirk that turned sweet the second you came running around the corner and into his arms.

The twins gasped in perfect synchronization, Osamu covering his mouth in horror and Atsumu clutching his chest in shock. “Suna’s your boyfriend?!”

As you pulled away from the middle blocker, completely ignoring your brothers, your eyes turned to hearts as Suna handed you one of the bouquets. Adding salt to the wound, your mother also arrived on the scene and thanked Suna very much for the other bouquet.

“You’ve always been a charmer,” your mother cooed, squeezing Suna’s cheek before taking the flowers from you to ensemble everything in vases.

The twins took each of Suna’s arms when your mother was out of sight, pulling him backwards into the hallway and then their room, slamming the bedroom door shut in your face as you tried to follow.

“Is this a prank?” Osamu asked, crossing his arms and frowning.

“There is no way you’re dating our baby sister,” Atsumu added.

“She’s not a baby, she’s one year younger than us.” Suna typically slouched but did his best to straighten up and use those few extra centimetres of height to his advantage. “And I think she’s really cool. And smoking hot.”

“Obviously, she’s a Miya,” Atsumu mumbled, only to get a slap in the back of the head from his brother.

“Our mom said you were sneaking out of her room the other day, you dirty pig.” Osamu stepped closer, poking a harsh finger into Suna’s chest.

“Ouch, enough with the name-calling.” Suna sighed, whipping his phone out of his pocket and swiftly unlocking it to find his camera roll. “What we do in private is none of your business, but here-” he said and held up the phone to show the twins a picture of you and him on a date, where you smiled joyfully at the camera and Suna watched you with ridiculously sweet eyes.

The twins looked between the picture and Suna’s face suspiciously a couple of times, before turning around and whispering to each other in an attempt to reach a conclusion.

Suna rolled his eyes, taking the time to text you about what was going on and let you know he’d be out in a second, but put his phone away as the twins turned back.

“We will allow it but you’re on thin ice, Suna Rintaro.”

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[bedcchem]

been on an osamu kick recently, so i’ve been stuck on the idea of a date night with him… he makes you your favorite dish, and he buys a nice bottle of red wine for you both to share.

with that nice fuzzy feeling in your minds as you sit together on the couch, glasses in-hand, one thing led to another, and suddenly, you’re looking down at osamu on his knees, right in between your thighs. his mouth hovers over you, his tongue just barely darting out to give the wet spot on your panties the faintest kitten lick.

“‘samu,” you breathlessly chide, your mind already a mess, “don’t tease me tonight…”

his eyes shift to you from his spot between your legs, his tongue still poking out as he dares to give you another little lick. “hm?” he asks coyly, “but that’s the best part, darlin’.”

gently pulling your panties down your legs to discard on the floor, he’s staring. hard. it’s a ritual at this point—he knows he’s done this many times before, but he also knows he’ll never get tired of seeing that pretty pussy of yours…

taking the last swig of wine from his glass, he licks a fat stripe from your entrance to your clit, listening for that little gasp from your lips that quickly turns into the faintest moan. every time.

delving into your folds, so wet and inviting, he relishes the delicious mixture of alcohol and your essence on his tongue. his hands grip your thighs, his fingers digging into the plush skin, as he holds them up and spreads them to get that perfect angle.

“s-‘samu!” you cry out when his tongue swirls around your clit, slow and steady; your hands move to his hair and tug, like clockwork, and he lets out a low groan, feeling the vibration pulse through your body. you feel like you’re on fire in the best way possible.

your head falls back against the couch as he alternates between suckling on your sweet little clit and tongue fucking you, and, as always, his pants suddenly begin to feel so painfully tight. he’s so messy with it, with your juices dribbling down his lips and chin and his cock throbbing in his boxers.

“‘sa—‘samu, oh my god—“ you gasp out, feeling that all too familiar coil winding up in the bottom of your tummy, “‘m close, please…”

you can sense the smirk on his face as he pushes you further into the couch cushions, letting out strangled, muffled moans of, “ya taste better than the wine, darlin’” and “so fuckin’ good…”

when you come on his tongue, he’s always there, licking up every drop. his eyes are closed, on another planet completely—absolutely pussydrunk from the taste of you.

“fuuuck, baby, that’s it. good girl…” he groans against your folds, making sure he’s cleaned you up nicely and to his liking.

and so every week, osamu asks you what you want to do for date night, fully knowing where it would always lead to…

and he loves it.

a/n: wow this was not meant to be this long ANYWAYS

enjoy my masterlist!

mdni. do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bedcchem 2024.

[tetskuro]

osamu doesn't like people using his kitchen. but for you, he makes an exception.

for the past hour, he's been listening to the rattling of pots and clanging of pans after you forbade him to enter his own turf. trust the chef, you had said jokingly.

finally once you're done with your masterpiece, you approach osamu sitting on the couch and cover his eyes.

"what're ya doin'?" he sounds amused.

"we're gonna play a little guessing game," you reply, guiding him to stand up and walk towards the kitchen. "if you guess the cake flavor correctly, then i'll grant whatever wish you make when you blow out your candle."

"anythin' i ask for? i better get this right then."

helping situate osamu in front of the freshly baked cake, you watch as he takes a whiff. he pretends to be deep in thought, successfully catching you off guard when he licks some of the remaining cake batter off your finger. you yelp in surprise.

"hey that's cheating!"

osamu merely chuckles as he gently pries your hands away from obscuring his vision, rubbing his thumbs over your skin.

"ya think i don't know the smell of chocolate when you've been bakin' it for the past hour?" a smug grin sits upon his face.

you sigh exaggeratedly and cross your arms, like you didn't already expect him to guess the obvious answer. "fine, fine you win," you concede. "guess i have no choice but to make your wish come true."

on the kitchen counter sits a simple chocolate cake with a single candle atop, its flame flickering under the draft of the air conditioning. osamu's heart squeezes in his chest when he sees your face illuminated by both the candlelight and a bright smile. god he loves you so much.

"happy birthday, 'samu. make a wish!"

osamu could wish for a lot of things: opening new onigiri miya locations, getting higher quality tools for his restaurant, being able to see his mom and atsumu more often. but as he blows out the candle, there's only one thing on his mind. he wants nothing more than moments like these—to be with you for the rest of his birthdays.

he looks at you and resolves his mind.

"so 'bout that wish..."

a/n: happy birthday osamu! atsumu bday drabble coming up soon hopefully 🤞🏽

for more works, check out my masterlist

© tetskuro 2024. please do not repost or modify my work.

[doingitforbokuto]

Osamu x female!reader

Osamu does the leg thing and it drives you insane. At first, he is subtle about it, just testing the waters. He slowly moves you with your back to the next wall while he kisses you, one hand on your shoulder, the other on your hip, guiding you to where he wants you. His kisses are slow and deep, sensual in a way you never knew was possible. It makes you feel loved, it makes you feel wanted and when your back hits the wall and his hands start to wander across your body, it makes you feel so undeniably horny.

Small moans and whimpers are muffled by Osamu's lips and tongue, still keeping his composure. But when he feels your hands needily grasping onto his broad shoulders, trying to get him closer to you, to feel more of him, he can tell how much you want him. So, very gently, he moves one of his legs, parting your own, and lets it slip in between your thighs.

You gasp when you feel the muscles in his thighs flexing against your core and, without even thinking about it, you push yourself down, against his leg, enjoying the delicious friction that has your head swimming.

You're already overwhelmed by how his hands feel on your body, how one travels from your shoulder over your throat, tracing your pulse point before moving over your chest to one of your nipples, his fingers finding the hardened peak beneath your clothes. The other one moves from your hip to your belly and the heat that comes off of his palm is almost too much for you to handle. But his leg is what sets you off.

He presses it harder against you when he feels you starting to get yourself off on him, he starts flexing his muscles in sync with your thrust. One of his big hands moves to your belly, putting pressure on the spot where you wish his cock was right now. He brings his other hand down to your hips to help you keep a steady rhythm. When he feels your thrust getting a little erratic, he tightens his grip on you, his fingers digging into your fat.

“Be a good girl and keep going,” he whispers against your neck, where he was leaving open-mouthed kisses just a second ago. “Good girl. Keep going. Come for me, sweet girl."

[adoringhaikyuu]

hii hii ! I saw that you're taking requests, can I please ask for a pt 2 of that scenario where reader calls their haikyuu boy my man for the first time?? I think it was sooo cute !! with kenma, osamu, akaashi & kita or tsukishima? whoever you prefer from that !! ur writing is so amazing tysm!!! take care girl !!💕

YOU CALL THEM YOUR MAN FOR THE FIRST TIME | 2

characters: akaashi + kenma + osamu + (gn!reader)

notes: i actually completely forgot i wrote that pls

part one / part two

★ akaashi tries to act all unbothered but he's literally blushing. and smiling to himself. also he squeezes your hand that he's holding out of nervous excitement.

★ kenma also tries to act unaffected but the blush on his cheeks gives it away. he tries to hide it with his hair but sneaks glances at you. blushes even more when you catch his eye and smile.

★ osamu smirks all proud, will sit back in his seat, putting his arm around you confidently. he's just proud to be your man and he wants everyone to hear it.

[sun4r1nnity]

"samu,"

osamu rolls his eyes the moment you call out his name, while a grin spreads across your face as you throw yourself on the couch next to him. he knows your intentions and what you're about to say, because you've been pestering him about it for days. that damn dyson hair dryer.

osamu didnt think that he'd be one of the victims of what people call the equivalent of ps5 to women. hell, the social media really has a bad influence on his wife. last time something like this happened is when the internet going crazy about those stanley cups, and it rubbed off on you too unfortunately. "sooo... i've been thinking..." you say, trailing off as you trace circles on osamu's chest. "thinkin' about what, exactly?" he inquires, already aware of the unspoken conclusion in your words.

"you know, maybe... if we should get a hair dryer. i mean, wouldnt our life be better with it? like, its a beneficial stuff," you say, avoiding eye contact with osamu, making him chuckles at your act. "enlighten me," he prompts, with a smirk on his face as he leans back on the couch and rests his head on his hands. he felt amused seeing that stupidly cute pout on your face as he waits for you to whine about that hair dryer you've been wanting.

unbeknownst to you, osamu would buy you the whole world if he can. he'd get you anything you wanted, because he gets to see you happy and show his love to you by spoiling you. so, it quite goes unnoticed when a notification pops up on his phone screen, informing that the dyson hair dryer he ordered few days ago will be delivered today.