#Miya Osamu x reader

[haikyu-mp4]

Passion – Osamu x reader wc 378 – gn!reader

You slumped down into the first free seat you saw at a random restaurant that seemed eerily abandoned. A voice greeted you in the distance when you entered, but the frustrated tears were already pushing at your lashes and you barely registered the owner’s words.

Resting your face in your hands, you silently let the tears flow. Sure, you could write a more general master thesis in marketing, but you wanted to write one on the process of helping a real business. The problem is, no businesses wanted you.

A plate with two onigiri was placed in front of you, and you looked up to see a handsome young man. Hastily and a bit embarrassed, you wiped the tears off your face as best as you could. “Thank you.”

“It’s on the house,” he assured you before turning away and heading back to the kitchen. When he left, your eyes made contact with the poster on the wall, a poorly made commercial poster you had seen hanging around the city and frowned upon.

Glancing down at the food you were given, the smell finally hit you. Heavenly, it was.

Taking a bite of food, you kept looking around the restaurant and using everything you’d learnt in the past four years of your degree to make an assessment.

The food tasted even better than it smelled, and you decided right then that this would be your master project.

Taking Onigiri Miya from rags to riches.

Your eyes now zeroed in on the chef who hummed along to the radio in the kitchen, seemingly making onigiri for no customers.

It all starts with him.

“Miya,” you said a bit loudly, hoping that was his name like it said on the sign.

His head snapped to you curiously. “How can I help ya?”

“I’d like to be your marketing agent, free of charge.”

He scoffed but there was a glint in his eyes, like he recognised the same drive he had for food in you. “Don’t like my posters?”

“You obviously have a passion, or at least talent, for food. Those onigiri are the best I ever had. Marketing, on the other hand, is my passion. Together we could be unstoppable.”

“Sit back down and we’ll discuss the details. I’m… interested.”

masterlist

[evamame]

comfort for your longest and hardest days ft. osamu miya

part 1 of this series of how haikyuu men comfort you after having a bad day cw: sfw, angst to fluff, gn!reader, established relationship, post timeskip!osamu, pet names, comfort word count: 858 author’s note this is part 1, come back to read the other parts! taglist your honor i plead guilty to loving this man

masterlist

kageyama tobio kuroo testurou oikawa tooru

you open the front door a little later than usual and walk into the entrance, quickly taking off your shoes and putting them to the side. you throw your jacket on a hook on the wall, toss your bag on the ground, and then swiftly make your way down the hall.

osamu—who had already returned home from the restaurant—hears the pitter-patter of your feet on the hardwood floor and calls out from his seat on the couch, “welcome back, hon!” hardly acknowledging him, you pass the living room and make your way to you and osamu’s shared bedroom. walking in you unintentionally slam the door behind you. as you walk past, visibly upset, osamu furrows his brow in confusion. you would usually run straight to him the moment you arrive home.

and you would’ve today too, but you really didn’t want to talk right now. you just need some space after everything that happened today at work. nothing had gone your way, no matter how much you tried to stay positive. you spilled coffee on your freshly ironed blouse. you tripped walking up the stairs. your files crashed after you were about to submit your final report for the big meeting tomorrow. and then, you had to stay overtime to try and recover them. finally, as the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae, your phone died on the commute back home. everything piling on top of one another was too much for you to handle, so you reached your breaking point.

you throw yourself on to the bed, burying your face into a pillow and curling up into a ball on your side. you let the soft pillow case collect the tears silently running down your face, letting out a few sniffles. after a few minutes of complete silence other than the sound of your quiet sobs, you hear osamu’s slippers gliding across the floor that come to a stop as he softly knocks on the door. his voice is muffled from the other side as he asks, “hun? are ya alright? everythin’ okay?”

you hear him, but are too mentally exhausted to even bother answering. you hope your silence will just make him leave you alone, but instead the door slowly creaks open and osamu steps in. he closes the door behind him and silently takes a seat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the tear stains on your cheeks and the pillow case. “bad day?” he questions quietly.

you nod and reply with a weakened voice, “i don’t want to talk about it.” you glance up at him for a quick moment to see the concern etched on his features before burying your face deeper in the soft and silky sheets. osamu tenderly runs his fingers through your hair as he thinks with a soft hum, leaning down to kiss the top of your head after a moment.

he slowly stands up from the edge of the bed, walking to the door and looking back at you. “i’ll be back soon,” he tells you before he closes the door behind him with a soft click. you lay in silence drowning in your own thoughts, your eyes mindlessly drifting around the bedroom.

osamu opens the door with a slow creak after you’ve dozed off for an amount of time you hadn’t been able to keep track of. he speaks softly in an attempt not to startle you, “hun, are ya asleep?” as the air from outside the bedroom door begins to flood the room, you’re hit with the comforting smell of his cooking. you shift in the bed, slowly getting up and dragging your feet across the room to reach him at the door. the scent is a silent calling, willing you to move forward. “i made all yer favorites,” he says in a slightly sing song voice as an attempt to cheer you up, even just a little bit.

you follow behind him as he leads you to the kitchen table, your tired eyes widening as you see the massive spread he prepared for you. in his typical chef fashion, he managed to make all of your favorite dishes, which he of course keeps a mental list of in his head at all times. “‘samu, all of this is for me? you really didn’t have too… i’m fine you know.”

“yeah, well, i wanted to. come sit. eat up,” osamu says as he takes a seat himself, patting the chair next to him. you oblige, picking up your chopsticks and marveling over the dishes, thinking of what to take first.

“i can’t eat all this myself,” you mutter as you grab a rice ball to put on your plate.

“i’ll help you,” osamu replies back, taking a rice ball for himself. he watches as you take your first bite, a knowing smile appearing on his face when your eyes light up at the delicious food. “feelin’ any better?” he asks.

“so much better. thank you,” you reply.

“good,” he says back, and you can catch the satisfied gleam in his eyes at your response as you take a quick glance at him.

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[lale-txt]

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔: 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬

♫ Mel Bryant & the Mercy Makers - ILYIS pt. 2

I love that you're so gentle And I'm sorry I'm so hellish I love it when you hold me Cause I'm sorry I'm in pieces But you put me back together And you make me feel what peace is

✰ 𝐜𝐰: alcohol mention, second conversation between Y/N and Osamu is pretty suggestive

⭅ back to m.list

•┈••✦ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

Kita and Aran stayed till 2am in the morning and everyone got along really well (once Y/N managed to look them both in the eyes again) and Kita invited them to visit the farm soon

the Tokyo group came by car and was supposed to stay over at the MSBY house (Atsumu moved into Sakusa's room for the time being so Yukie & Makki could have a bed, Akaashi stayed with Bokuto ofc, Suna always takes the couch) but somehow they all ended up at Osamu's place after going out together

Osamu and Y/N are pretty shameless now their official (we love to see. they have a lot to catch up)

Sakusa got his fair share of Y/N while she was in Osaka but it will never be enough until they can live on the moon together, just the two of them

eggyrocks maneater mention <3

Sunarin got possessed by me for a second my bad

they all took the Inarizaki motto very serious for the night and had little to no memories in the morning (they puzzled evidence together from tweets and photos)

the arm sleeves stayed ON

should've put an Oikawa cw at the beginning too sorry

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@brithedemonspawn @gigiiiiislife @yuminako @notverymarley @krissiekris

@wyrcan @kentocalls @maybespiderman @uncovered-mad-man @honey-deku

@yukichan67 @dailyakira @zq13 @morgan-lowell @angee444

@ellouisa17 @toges-cough-syrup @mahalsuya @itsdragonius @bakingcuriosity

@nekomasmngr @spacekedi @nymphsdomain @thatprettybunny @joseimukeaddict

@writing-for-the-hell-of-it @honeytwo @estreya05 @jisookdays @blueballslock

@lonelycrystal-star @weezerbby @iluv-ace @s777athv @kameyyy

@localgaytrainwreck @mirkaaaluv @elliesndg @mollysmovingcastle @weirdgirlbrina

@nobodybutnnoorr @blueflamebimbo @softpia @pet-plasma-bubble @meekydeeks

taglist open! fill out this form to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[sunarots]

taste ━━━ suna rintarou & miya osamu

11. people change ♡

"Hey, wake up."

Your eyes flutter open as someone lightly nudges you awake, a hand rest on your knee. You lift your head from Osamu's shoulder, rubbing the sleep from your eyes to wake yourself up. "Sorry, was I asleep for long? You should've woken me up." You wait for Osamu to get out of his seat before shuffling from the window seat, taking your rucksack from him as he grabs his own.

"Wake you? I'm not that dumb. I've heard the stories," he scoffs, leading you off the bus. Though he's not looking, he knows the exact look on your face.

You follow him with a scowl. "I'm not that bad..."

"You are," Kuroo agrees, hauling your suitcase and his towards you. "You have the itinerary handy?"

You nod your head and rummage in your bag, pulling out the crumpled sheet of paper. You lead Kuroo to the front of the group, comparing the time on your phone to the timeline on the sheet. "Damn, we lost some time. I said to everyone to use the toilet before we left, but did they listen?"

"They never listen to you," Kuroo teases, lightly nudging your arm.

Rolling your eyes and dismissing his comment, you wait for everyone to gather around you and Kuroo before proving him wrong. "Okay, everyone! We're late to the games but we're in time for dinner. You all have your room assignments, drop off your bags and get settled. We'll meet in the common area in ten minutes with Sendai's team and make our way there together. Be on your best behaviour, just because coach is sick doesn't mean we can slack off and misbehave. Any questions?" You spot Bokuto's hand shoot up, already knowing what he'd ask - again. "No, Bokuto, you cannot share with Akaashi. We've been over this. Now, go get settled. If you need me, I'll be in room seven with Sendai's manager. I'll see you all soon."

You hang back, waiting for Osamu to send his brother off into the unknown so he can walk you inside. Atsumu goes bounding off ahead, almost tripping up a step on the way. You bite back a laugh and turn to Osamu, now by your side. "Maybe he'll get lost."

He switches his case from one hand to the other to drape it around your neck. "One can dream. So, who are you rooming with?"

"Sendai's manager. We've met a couple times, all the managers have a group chat...well, the girl ones. Kuroo keeps up with the guys," you explain, smiling at the student holding the door for you both. You lead him past the common room and towards the dorm.

"Why does Kuroo keep up with the men?"

"Because they're just so... Weird. They act crazy." You glance over your shoulder to make sure no one's following. "So, what's the plan? With me and you, I mean. We need to try make it really convincing for everyone. Well, I'll probably tell Kiyoko because we're always gossiping, but everyone else needs convincing."

"Well, I think if I kiss you on the cheek at some point when people are looking it could give Iwaizumi a stroke," he comments, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought. "I know he's not the target, but it would be funny."

"That would be funny." You knock a couple times on the door to the dorm room, turning to face him. "We can do that tomorrow morning. That would wake everyone up."

"Or kill someone..." He pauses in consideration and turns to you as the door opens. "Worth it."

"Who are you killing? I'd rather not harbour a fugitive." Kiyoko keeps one hand on the door as she eyes you suspiciously. "Unless it's Rubi. In that case, I can be your alibi."

"See? This is why Kuroo deals with the men and I befriend the women. We stick together," you tell Osamu before properly greeting Kiyoko. "Thanks for letting me room with you again!"

Kiyoko waves a hand and opens the door for you to step inside. "It's no problem. I like not having to share my dorm, but it's nice to have a guest once in a while."

"I'll see you in the common room with everyone else, okay? If Atsumu's late, kill him for me." You flash Osamu a smile before closing the door to the dorm, leaning back against the door.

Kiyoko has her arms crossed over her chest, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Is that pretty boy? He's cute."

"Hey, back off! You have one already." You lightly swat at her arm, pulling your case over to the empty bed and setting it on top. "How is he?"

Kiyoko sits on her bed, eyes scanning over the pictures on the wall. "He's good. He's enjoying his course and likes being able to have more control in the team. I think he was excited to see Iwaizumi-san and exchange tips." As she speaks, she watches you pull out a bag of toiletries from the case. "But enough about Ryu. How is Osamu?"

Instantly, you press your lips into a tight line. "Well... We're pretending. No one knows but you. Also, Ugly and Osamu has a fight and Osamu called him Ugly."

Kiyoko's jaw drops open as you speak, scouring her mental dictionary for an appropriate reaction. "Oh my- You're faking? Is that a good idea?"

You shrug your shoulders after a moment of thought, settling at the edge of the bed. "I mean, maybe?"

"Is this because he doesn't like you back?"

You gasp more dramatically than intended, hand on your chest. "I'll have you know that he liked me when I first started dating Ugly."

"But does he like you now? People change, y/n."

# fun fact !

kiyoko tries to stop y/n from getting too lost in her perfect world after hearing about suna

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when your ex starts dating your least favourite person on campus, your ex-best friend from high school, you can’t help but feel a little betrayed. you quickly realise a way to get back at him: his best friend.

taglist (open!). @v3nusplanetofluv @mdmraz @thoughtswithbbg @fireinyoureye @wakashudou @jisookdays @tespho @frootloopscos @gigiiiiislife @walllflowerrrsss @tangerinelovr @datonegaybestfriend @sturnprincess @jpegarchives @justanotherweeb666 @1yeah1 @rrosiitas @yuu-via @zazathezaer @softpia @animenaces-world @loveelylani @punkhazardlaw @to-dino @nanamis-right-tiddie @aboutkiyoomi @arusio @aloore @dailyakira @alexithemiyatic

[morosluvbug]

osamu miya who falls in love with a picky eater

osamu miya who learns from a very young age that you’re not willing to touch most foods. he (not so) secretly watches at lunch everyday to see what parts of you lunch you end up neglecting.

osamu miya who never teases you about being picky, after all that’s what makes cooking for you more rewarding right? nailing the flavors that you love and hiding the ones that you have no taste for.

osamu miya who attempts (and succeeds) at wowing you through bringing you lunches that he knows you’ll enjoy.

osamu miya who spends the rest of lunch trying not to grin ear to ear while watching you happily eat the lunch he brought you.

osamu miya who knows it’s now his life’s mission to make sure you enjoy food as much as possible.

osamu miya who loves the way your face lights up when he finds a place with lots of options for foods you like. whether its due to dietary restrictions, allergies, or a distace for certain foods, he will make sure there’s many options for you everytime you eat out.

osamu miya who cooks for you as often as you like. if you're ever feeling unmotivated and unwilling to cook he will show up and help you.

osamu miya will reach out to your parents for childhood recipes and loved dishes you may not have told him about. he wants to have your comfort foods at the ready whenever you're craving them.

osamu miya who never fails to wow you with how well he remembers your favorite foods. craving a certain cuisine but don’t know what you want? trust me, he knows way before you do and politely suggests it.

osamu miya loves seeing your reactions to new foods you discover. he’s always so proud when you try something new, and is even happier when he watches your face light up from the flavors.

osamu miya will order for you if you need to sub out items on a dish but are to embarrassed! food is meant to be enjoyed! not picked apart to avoid certain aspects of it.

osamu miya who will do anything to make sure you’re happy, healthy, and not hungy!!

A/N: projecting so hard onto this fic i am so picky about foods!! trying to be better but i fear i am doomed for life :( osamu save me

[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.

masterlist | navigation

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

[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.

[noosayog]

[3:47 pm] ft miya osamu

wc: 700

--

When you slam open Atsumu’s bedroom door and plop yourself onto the carpet next to him, he barely looks up from his phone. 

“Ever heard of knocking?”

You lay belly down on the floor and scream into the worn fuzz of the carpet. 

“Gross. You know our bare, unwashed feet walk on this floor right?” 

He offers you a pillow and you take it, squishing it between the floor and your face. Atsumu waits for your breath to run out. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Atsumuuuuu…” you bemoan. “I’m going through a crisis.” 

He says nothing, continuing to scroll on his phone but you can tell you’ve garnered some of his interest. 

“I have a secret. Like one that I can’t tell anyone.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s so shameful. I’ve been keeping it to myself for, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I bet I couldn’t guess what it is.” The sarcasm is completely lost on you. 

“Yeah. You’d make fun of me. It’d be material for you to tease me for a lifetime,” you pause, take a deep breath. “I-

“-have a big fat crush on my brother?” 

You gape. “What?” 

He looks up from his phone. He blink at you, like you’re any simpleton. “You,” he says slowly, punctuating each word, ”have a big, fat, embarrassing, crutching, debilitating crush on my brother.” 

“I didn’t even realize you knew so many big words-”

“What?” 

The two of you freeze up. 

“‘Samu!” Atsumu exclaims. “Thought you weren’t gonna be back until later tonight.”

“I wasn’t.”

He gives no other explanation. You stay still, hoping that if you don’t move or breathe, he won’t notice you. The silence stretches.

“Ohhh.. kay. Well, I better go. You kids-”

You jolt awake at that, in disbelief that Atsumu would flee alone after what he’s done.

“I’ll go with!” You turn and run, making monumental efforts to avoid a dark eyes trained on you. 

You’re about to squeeze past when a hand slams against the doorframe, arm now blocking off your exit. Osamu stares hard at you while your gaze stays glued to the exit beyond, though it’s more like you’re staring at his bicep which is now stationed at your eye level. 

“I’m just gonna go…” you hear Atsumu mumble, ducking under Osamu’s arm barrier, stealing your escape route. 

“Jackass-” you mumble.

“Hey.” 

The low voice comes from right above your head.

“Osamu,” you greet, still staring at his arm. “I gotta go. I have plans-”

A finger comes up to lift your jaw. It’s careful, but still forceful. When your eyes finally meet his, the one finger turns into two which grip your chin in place. 

“Was what Atsumu said true?” 

It takes a lot for you to hold back a stutter. “Sounds like you heard him loud and clear to me,” you say, ready to slap his hand away. 

“I did.”

“Then why are you still asking-” 

“If it’s true,” he leans down, talking slowly. It makes you start to hyperventilate. You need a paper bag or something. “I don’t wanna hear it from my stupid brother.” 

His eyes are mesmerizing, captivating. Not even the many, many years of knowing him dulls the effect of his straightforward gaze on you. You think you hear someone concede, “it’s true.” 

“What’s true?” he whispers. He’s so close you feel his words ghost your mouth.

Autopilot talks. “That I have a big fat crush on you.” 

He eats up the next millimeter of space. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

Suddenly, his neck is caged inside of your arms and you’re licking up his familiar minty breath and surely this all isn’t your doing because your brain is still catching up. 

His smile widens against your lips and you can feel the smugness radiate off him. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted, then.” 

That clears the fog. You shove his shoulders away and try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t go very far.

“Why?” you demand. 

He kisses you again. “‘Cause my brother’s got a big mouth.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. Osamu takes it as an invitation to slot his face better against yours. 

His kiss almost makes you forget your train of thought, but that’s okay because he answers your question anyway. 

“And he probably would’ve blabbed that I have a big fat crush on you too.”

[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

[riddlesrose]

osamu miya who believes you’re close to him because you’re interested in his twin. it takes a while for him to fully accept that you don’t want atsumu, you want him. it really set it when you start bringing him the snack he pointed out in your lunch, setting it in front of him while you basically ignored a whining atsumu.

post graduation osamu who was so sad when atsumu was mad at him for quitting volleyball, he comes to you with his troubles, hoping you can help. you let him spew all of his feelings uninterrupted while pressed together on your bed. you wipe a stray tear from his eye and pull him impossibly closer for a hug.

college osamu who calls you almost every night, complaining about the work load he’s been given, or the fact that he wants to come back. when he does it’s the holidays and he celebrates with you first, then his family, and yes you’re there too. (his mother is a huge fan of you, she loooves you like her own:((( )

onigiri miya owner osamu who brings home extra food from his shop because he knows you love it. he totally didn’t make extra before closing. nope. you come to onigiri miya most days to visit him, despite living together. something about him and his uniform does something to your mind.

osamu miya who’s loved you since highschool <33

masterlist

[miiyas]

osamu turns his body to face you in the dark room of your shared bed, a frown etched on his face as he wraps his beefy arms around your waist.

“‘yer stomachs growlin’.” he states, breathing in the scent of your lotion that lingered gently on your skin from after a warm shower. you hum tiredly as your thumbs doom scroll across your phone, the lights highlighting your face gently. from your lack of response, your husband sighs and sits up on the bed, tossing the covers away from his side, grabbing your attention away from your phone.

“‘samu ? where’re you going ?” you put your phone away from your face slightly, eyes wide and confused at the sudden action. you see osamus shadow tap the lamp on from beside the bed and run a hand through his bedhead, feet shuffling out of the bedroom without another word to you.

“‘samu ? dude, what are you doing ?” with the sudden ‘dude-zoning,’ you can hear his voice call from … the kitchen ..?

“are ya feelin’ somethin’ light or heavy ?” he calls, causing your brows to furrow in confusion as you slip out of bed, placing your phone down on the mattress. you tiptoe to the kitchen, seeing osamu having his head popped in the fridge. you couldn’t help but stifle out a laughter, the sight of your husband in nothing but a simple shirt and boxers tickled your tired, hazy mind.

“what in the world are you doing, ‘samu ?”

“yer stomach was growlin’ since we got into bed.” he mumbles, picking up a carton of eggs and counting how many was left before placing them down again. “you feelin’ pancakes ? i can make the meanest pancakes, y’know.”

you sigh out a chuckle before moving over to the small dinning table, bringing your legs up to your chest to keep a bit of warmth in your body from after leaving the bed. “i know, ‘samu. i’ll have whatever’s easier.”

“alright, pancakes then.”

osamu pulls out the carton of eggs again and a stick of butter, pushing them on the kitchens island before closing the fridge to find more ingredients. you eye your husband roam around, your eyes fluttering as you drift in and out of consciousness as a soft, content smile lies gently on your lips.

it’s okay, though. because you know that osamu will wake you up when your stack of pancakes are hot and ready. he’ll give you a big kiss on your forehead before sitting beside you, resting his elbow on the table as his head props up with the support of his big hand, a lovesick smile drowning out any sleepiness in him.

[whisperofwonder]

Oh, Baby | Part 1

Haikyuu men x pregnant!reader

Part 2 is here - after baby is born

Featuring: Miya Osamu, Kuroo Tetsurou, Kageyama Tobio, Sakusa Kiyoomi (~ 400 - 500 words each)

Most likely to be followed up at some point by scenes after baby is born because I have absolutely no chill

MIYA OSAMU

You pick at your dinner, trying your best to eat enough to satisfy Osamu. It's not that you aren't hungry, really. It's more that what you're hungry for isn't this. Osamu already worked hard to make it, though, so you'll make yourself content.

"What's wrong?" Osamu isn't fooled. He points at your plate with his chopsticks. "Isn't it good? I knew I shouldn't a' switched out the spices."

"No, it's good!" You insist quickly. "Really. I just - you're gonna think it's silly." You warn.

"Try me," He says, sitting back in his chair and watching you expectantly. You have no choice.

"I'm just really craving something in particular. Something different," You try to mask your disdain as you gesture at your plate. "I want onigiri."

"Really?" A smile breaks across his face. "Little guy wants onigiri, huh? Well that's not so bad. I can whip something up-" He's already out of his chair and poised to root in the fridge. "Whaddya want? We got tuna, umeboshi, or maybe..." He pauses to shuffle things around in the fridge in search of more ingredients.

"No," You interrupt before he can get too far, bracing yourself for what the baby is making you say next, "Actually, I was kind of thinking, well, peanut butter?" He goes still, head stuck in the fridge. "And, jelly?" You add more quietly. Slowly, he backs up and pivots, fixing you with a penetrating look.

"Sorry. It was all muffled in there. What sorta filling did ya want?" You repeat yourself, and watch as the smallest part of your husband dies. He blinks once, twice, then nods very slowly. "Okay," He says, quietly, almost as if he's steeling himself. "Okay." He repeats.

Hands resting on your growing middle, you watch as he methodically prepares the onigiri, with the exact fillings you'd requested. He hesitates with his spoon in the peanut butter, but he does what you asked. "Are ya sure this is my child?" He asks despairingly as he presents you with three perfectly formed onigiri.

"Positive," You assure him with a small chuckle. You can't help it - you're itching to dig into these onigiri, so you do. Is it an absurd combination? Yes. But does it satisfy the craving you'd been trying to ignore all day? Absolutely. You can't disguise your delight as you eat, humming happily as you savor the food your husband had so lovingly prepared for you, despite the desecration.

When you look up, you're surprised to find him smiling at you, head propped on his fist as he watches you eat.

"What're you grinning about?" You ask teasingly.

"Can't help it," He grumbles, "I'm just happy you're enjoyin' the food, even if it is an abomination. I love you." He gives your cheek a gentle pinch, then your stomach a loving pat.

"I love you too, Samu. We both do." You pause. "Want a bite?" You ask, holding the last onigiri out to him.

"Absolutely not."

KUROO TETSUROU

You're in bed, and it's barely 8:00. You never expected your normal day-to-day routine to tire you out this much, but then again you've never been 7 months pregnant before, either.

"Aw, come on," Tetsurou is cooing at your stomach, stroking it gently. "Just a little tiny kick? Mama gets to feel you move all the time." He's curled up with his face inches from your stomach, a dopey smile on on his face as he chatters to the baby as has become his nightly routine. You reach down to run a hand through his unruly hair.

"If you want someone to kick you in the bladder, that can probably be arranged," You say drily, snorting out a laugh when he looks up at you with a pout.

"I just want to feel her move," He sighs, "I feel like I always miss it. Everybody acts like it's so special."

"It is," You say softly, resting your hand on top of his. You can't deny that. "It'll happen," you say optimistically. With how bad he wants it, it has to, you silently tell your daughter.

"Yeah," He doesn't sound convinced, rolling to a sitting position. "Guess I'll go brush my teeth," He says, heading for the bathroom. You roll onto your back, reaching for your phone on the bedside table. You've just opened a conversation to respond to a text when you feel it - the faintest movement.

"Tetsu!" You call, "Come here!"

"What?" He's at the doorway in half a second, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and a frown creasing his brow, "Wha's wrong?"

"She's moving," You say, and shift to a sitting position. You hear him spit the toothpaste in the sink, and he's there in a heartbeat, hand on your belly. Right beneath his hand, you feel her kick. You watch as the look of wonder crosses his face.

"Hi, baby girl," He breathes, focusing all of his attention on the movement of your daughter beneath his hand. "I love you so much. I'm so excited to meet you." He turns to look at you then. "Finally," He grins, and you can't help but return it.

"Didn't I tell you?" You say smugly.

"Yeah, yeah." He silences you with a minty kiss.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

At this point in your pregnancy, there's very little that soothes your aching back. Lying down, standing up, moving around, the pain is always there in the background to some extent. That's why you find yourself in the living room in the middle of the night, propping yourself up between the arm chair and wall in search of a position that will provide some relief.

"Are you alright?" You nearly jump out of your skin at the touch of Tobio's hand on your back. When you left the room, he'd been sleeping like a rock as usual.

"Fine," You assure him, stretching to a slightly more dignified position. "My back's just a little sore."

"Oh," He runs a hand gently up and down the muscles of your back. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Hold this for a second?" You say with a breathy laugh, mostly joking as you press a hand beneath your round stomach.

"I can try," He says seriously, moving behind you. You're about to tell him it was just a joke, but then you feel his chest pressed against your back and his hands gently supporting the underside of your belly. Instead of the protest that had been forming on your lips, you let out a groan of relief.

"Was that good?" He asks uncertainly.

"Very good," You're quick to assure him, letting your eyes close. He only hums in response, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. You'd forgotten it was possible for your back to feel this normal. It's blissful. You could almost fall asleep right here and now.

"You sure are making trouble for your mama," You hear your husband whisper, drawing you back out of your drowsy state.

"It's okay," You murmur, "It'll all be worth it." He presses another kiss to your shoulder, and you sink back into silence.

"I really think we should get you back to bed," He says finally. Even though it means he'll have to let go, you feel you don't have any choice but to agree. "We can do this again tomorrow," He promises as he takes your hand to make your way back to the bedroom. You give his hand a tug and press a kiss to his lips. You'll hold him to that.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

"I'm home," You hear Kiyoomi call from the front door. You freeze, but it's too late to hide the evidence. Soon enough, your husband appears in the nursery doorway, and you're caught red-handed.

"I told you I'd build that bookshelf tonight," He says, striding into the room and plucking the loose shelf from your hand. He takes the bag of screws from the other, sets them down, and then draws you away from your project.

"I know, but I just had to do something," You insist. "I already put all the clothes in the dresser, vacuumed, washed the drapes, and the box was just sitting there." His brow creases, and you realize you've said too much.

"You washed the drapes?" He heaves a heavy sigh. "How did you even get them down? And put them back up?"

You smile nervously. "A chair," You try to sound nonchalant. "They really aren't that high."

"My love," He says, taking your hands in his. "Please don't do something like that again. What if you fell?" You lower your head, biting down on your lip. It truly hadn't crossed your mind.

"Sorry," You whisper, "There's just so much to do! We need to be ready. The baby will be here in just a few months. I just want everything to be perfect."

"I know," He says, now rubbing comforting circles into the backs of your hands, "And we'll take care of everything. Together." He draws you into him and tucks your head beneath his chin. "I promise. I just want you to be safe."

His voice is a comforting rumble against your ear, and you nod your head against him. "I know," You agree softly.

"Good," He says, pulling back and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Now, since you've been busy all day, why don't you let me make dinner?" You open your mouth to protest, but with one look at his face, you close it again. "After dinner, you can read me the instructions. I'll build the bookshelf."

You smile at your husband. "Thanks for taking care of us, Kiyoomi," You say, and his expression softens.

"Of course. It's my job."

[heich0e]

osamu boy dad, with a little army of miyas that reign lovable terror over your home.

it reminds him of growing up with tsumu. always noisy. always rowdy. always fun. and just when he thinks the two of you are done having babies, two lines on a pregnancy test the two of you are staring at in disbelief—in that brief window of precious silence between when the boys go to bed and the day's exhaustion drags you both under—say otherwise.

the first time osamu holds your daughter in his arms he can barely see her through his own tears. she's so tiny. so special. so delicate. he's used to his boys, now. used to tossing them around, and riling them up, and chasing them down just so he can slow them for long enough to put plasters over their bumps and scrapes. he worries for a moment that he doesn't know how to treat her as gently as she needs to be, this itty bitty little girl he loves so much.

the first time he sees his little angel deck her older brother for stealing her favourite toy, he realizes he had absolutely nothing to worry about—she's as much of a miya as the rest of them.

[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.

[clawsdevour]

hold the phone

wc: 0.8k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, osamu x reader, smut, osamu's on call with atsumu but also in you, mating press, not proof read

𓂅 ‧₊ ˚

osamu's large smoldering hands push behind your knees down closer to your chest, as if flattening you into a pancake. a mating press compacted under his large throbbing figure that reeked of lust the more osamu's cock shoves itself in and back out of your sopping cunt that yearned for more.

heaving moans being exchanged amidst the heat and built-up sexual tension in the air while the squelching sounds of your fluids combining rapidly grew louder by the second amongst your damp skin slapping against each other.

however, just when you felt him poke at your g-spot, a buzzing sound that vibrated in the sheets glowed a white screen under the thin fabric.

bzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzz..!

coming to a quick halt, slowing his strokes to become gradual and sensational pace as his rippling torso reaches to your side to check who's calling at this ungodly hour.

"should i pick up? it's my brother atsumu, ugh what does he want?" he groaned in exhaustion, showing you atsumu's contact ringing in the palm of his hand.

"yeah but make it quick 'samu.." you cooed out, eyebrows furrowed as his throbbing cock continued to leisurely move in and out of your overstimulated slick folds.

"m'kay," osamu's husky deep voice trailed along with a slight smirk creasing on the right corner of his mouth, a finger in the middle of his lips subtly signifying you to be quiet.

pressing the receive button with his large thumb, then the speaker icon. osamu's bringing his cell closer to his ear, placing it in the crook of his neck supported by his broad shoulder.

"y'er on speaker," averting his eyes back onto the holy sight under his muscular stature, returning a hand back under your knee with the other drawing tiny circles on your pulsating slippery clit.

"'samu..!" you discreetly squeaked out when you felt his fiery imprints on you.

osamu's looking down on you with his droopy sinful eyes, the plastered smirk on his lips spreading to the ends of his face when he started to slowly click his hips with yours, your hands finding their way to your face to block out any noise that'd soon escape from your lips.

"did my package get to y'er address by any chance? it said it was delivered, but i ain't see it at all," hearing his twin on the other side of the call.

"mm.. it might've. i can check after i'm done with what i'm doin'," a chillingly calm response to suppress his grunting.

"aight, just let me know if it came. i'll head over tomorrow mornin' to pick it up," listening to atsumu sigh before a shuffling noise, thinking he's about to hang up.

"soo.. 'samu, how's ya girl been?" questioning his twin with a playful tone, almost taunting him.

it's like that question made osamu harder. just the bare thought alone of watching you get stuffed full of him whilst having a conversation on the side ignited something in him. it just made osamu want to tease you even more.

"goin'– ...great" osamu visibly grunts, hoping the audio caught onto atsumu's end, "she's with me right now actually.. d'ya wanna say hi to her?"

eyes widening in shock as your jaw dropped when you hear osamu suggest that you say hi. making out a 'sure!' from the other end of the line, osamu's releasing his grip on the back of your knee to bring his phone closer to your mouth.

"h-hey..! how you been atsumu..!" you breathed out, trying to steady your heart that raced out of your chest despite osamu's thrusts starting to increase in speed.

"what's good, is 'samu treating ya like royalty?" atsumu joked, replying with a simple, "mhm–!"

shit. you just accidentally let a moan slip by on speaker. looking up at your boyfriend in a blazing red shade, he's got the biggest grin on his face from how flustered you are before taking the phone back.

"sorry 'tsumu, we're in the middle of something. pick it up in the mornin', yeah?" immediately coming to a close to finish what he started.

tossing his phone back into the tangled crinkled sheets, he's going at you with full force making you yelp out loud from the sudden change in pace.

osamu's hot face peppers your pink complexion with his gentlest kisses like a reward. moving down to press sloppy wet hickeys on your neck while you whimpered in pleasure.

"so that's why y'all was acting weird.." atsumu loudly gasped despite being muffled in with the sheets.

osamu forgot to press the end call button.

masterlist here

[6okuto]

timeskip osamu x gn!reader fluff :-)

“is it bad if i say i wish you kept playing volleyball?”

osamu hears your question before he feels your arms wrap around his waist, his arms crossed over his chest moving to hold yours.

you lean to rest your cheek against his bicep and he looks down at you, pinches your arm as a playful threat. “depends on the reason.”

“is ‘’cause you look good in this jersey’ good enough?”

the black and gold jersey in question, wrapped snug around his arms and chest, had his last name splayed across his back, but not for him, not with his number sitting underneath. there was a match tonight—the first one back from off-season—and osamu would damn himself if he wasn’t repping his twin, even if he couldn’t be there in the stands.

“seriously?” the corner of his lip twitches, and he teases, “y’don’t wanna wear ’tsumu’s? it’s the same last name anyway.”

the bolded MIYA greets you when you pull away to look at it, and osamu wonders if it’d be selfish to say he wanted you to say no, if he confessed his heart jumped at the immediate shake of your head—“it’s not the same, though.”

you gently tug at the fabric and name, twisting it between your fingers. “i love ’tsumu, but in a very different way than i love you.”

your boyfriend does his best to tuck a stupidly lovesick smile away, along with the satisfaction and pride swelling in his chest, all behind a deep sigh and hum in thought.

he turns to wrap an arm around your shoulder where he picks stray lint off your shirt. “we have my old high school jerseys somewhere.” and he almost laughs at the speed you gasp and let your jaw fall.

“wait, really?”

“yeah, kept most of our school stuff after we graduated. wanna see if one fits?”

“yes?” you shove his chest, not trying to, but unable to move him all the same. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding your old high school stuff from me.”

“well it’s not like i did it on purpose! had no reason to go lookin’ for it,” he defends himself. and you know he’s right—you met long after the twins’ graduation when it had all been packed up ages ago, and osamu no longer felt the need to take his jersey out just to see it, mind filled with business instead of volleyball, a new black uniform fitted to his form.

“well now we do, miya,” you tease, the last name an old acquaintance sitting oddly on your tongue, “so you better get looking before i change my mind and ask atsumu’s for his instead.”

and osamu, for once, raises his hands in surrender instead of pushing his luck; he doubts you’d do it even if he didn’t find his old jersey, but just the thought is enough. “yeah, okay, alright, anythin’ for you.”

🏷️ | @pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv-rose @ur-local-simp @respitable @hasti-666 @deepenthevoid