#Miya osamu

[aldebrana]

Mmmmh, Osamu 🤤

osamu. anything osamu and his damn muscles pls 😔

warnings ★ very suggestive, gn! reader, feeling him up !!

xoxo, juno ★ miya osamu is a work of art. nonnie i had so much fun writing this i cannot lie 💓

“angel, ‘m makin’ dinner,” osamu warns, voice a little strained when he feels your body press into his back.

“aww, i haven’t even done anything,” you sigh playfully, hands slipping beneath the hem of his loose shirt. he shivers a little at your touch, fingertips ghosting over his abs and moving further upwards.

“yer doing something,” he grunts, heat rising to his cheeks and coloring them with a flush.

“absolutely nothing. no idea what you’re talking about.” osamu thinks you’re the world’s biggest tease — playing with his nipples and emotions as he struggles to continue cooking dinner. if you distract him like this, he might end up undercooking the beef for the curry, and it’ll be your fault.

“that’s enough,” he hisses through gritted teeth, blood rushing from his burning cheeks to his pelvis now, a familiar tightness developing now that you’re around. “tryin’ to cook us dinner.”

“oh, you’ll manage.”

osamu lifts a bowl of vegetables and adds them into the curry, nearly dropping the thing onto the stovetop when you pinch his nipples too tightly.

“damn— alright, i nearly broke a bowl ‘cause of ya,” he huffs, trying to sound angry about the glass stovetop even though it’s too easy to snuff out the growing weakness in his voice.

“just focus on cooking,” you giggle, your hips now pressed flush against his ass.

osamu shakes his head in disbelief, stirring the curry and questioning how strong his will is. just as he decides he won’t fold over nipple play, your soft fingers run down his chest and stroke over the ridges of his abs.

once, twice, three times.

he moans, fully hard now and unbelievably flustered. “y’know what..”

“what?” you purr, pleased by your handiwork.

“get on the fuckin’ counter now.”

“but what about the curry, samu? i thought you were cooking.”

the way you feign innocence and sudden concern for dinner has him clenching his spoon as he tosses it to the side, splattering sauce over the cool part of the stovetop.

“i said, get on the counter.”

[dfsdgaefh]

a batch of photocards 🥸

[struwberrii]

it’s so sweet ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

you run a bakery across the street from onigiri miya, you and the owner, osamu miya, often visit each others stores. that led you to meeting suna rintarou, one of osamus childhood friends. how many warm chocolate chip cookies will it take to melt his icy heart <3

main masterlist

pairing : suna rintarou x f!reader

status : ongoing! ♡

taglist : comment to be added !

warnings/info : modern au, y/n is kind of girly, mentions of substance use and smoking, y/n also bakes and runs a bakery, suna is kind of sarcastic/mean, all characters are post time skip , maybe a love triangle teehee :)

it’s so sweet playlist

bakery playlist

onigiri miya playlist

it’s so sweet pinterest board

chapter 1 : the usual ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

chapter 2 : dreamy desserts 🍰⋆⟡˖ ࣪

[jasscheeks]

The smau with the haikyuu boys were they thought you were mad at them was so cute....... is it alright if i request you to also do it with akaashi, suga, and kita? It's alright if not tho, thank you for your content.....im feral for these boys

haikyuu! boys if…

…they thought you were mad at them

pairings: osamu, suga, akaashi, kita

so sorry this took so long! i haven’t been writing much since starting college, but now im trying to get to all the requests i have!

warnings: this is literally my first time EVER writing for kita, idk if i nailed it but i feel like it’s close enoughhh, sorry if it’s a little doodoo

ignore the timestamps on this one too <3

m.list | suna, atsumu, kageyama, tsukishima ver.

thank you for requesting!

thank you for reading!!

[poopdings]

the miya’s first onigiri 🍙

idk i just ate sushi yesterday so i decided to draw one 🍣🍣

[kimbapisnotsushi]

if only miya osamu (23) owner of onigiri miya was real and had expanded his franchise into america . . .

[pinemoons]

11/05 happy osaaka day! (based on this tweet!)

[kouraiba]

💔

[justanotherjaydrawing]

more messy pirate/privateer haikyuu au because im having fun

(outfit designs are not my strong point so don't judge too hard lol)

[kkumri]

redraws from the olympics! 🏐🏅🤺🤸🏻‍♂️

[aeonmnei]

— “‘samu, stop,” you whisper, as he finds you at the opposite corner of the bed yet again. “it’s so hot.” the fan drones on, making little creaks as it oscillates. it does nothing to quell the heat. if anything, it just cycles the hot air around you, making the bedroom akin to a rotary oven.

what also doesn’t help is the six-foot human space heater in your bed.

osamu groans, his arm coming around your waist to pull you against his bare chest. “stop kickin’ me,” he mumbles. “i wanna hold ya.” he nuzzles his face in your neck, kissing it.

it would be sweet, if his body heat wasn’t the same as an elephant’s. he’s sweltering, and your shoulder sticks to his chest as you try to move away. osamu practically whines as you do. “stop leavin’ meeeee.”

a blast of heat envelopes you as he tries to pull you close again, and you let out a huff. “m’not leaving you, ‘samu, i told you, it’s boiling in here,” you tell him, hitching a leg over his hip to get some air. “s’not my fault,” he mutters petulantly, his big, hot hand reaching over to rest on your leg.

this boy…!

you give another huff. not even thirty seconds later, there’s a low snore that rumbles behind you. “how are you even asleep?” you whisper incredulously, turning to see his peaceful expression. “m’holdin’ ya,” he mumbles sleepily in reply. he inhales deeply, breathing you in. “i love ya.”

guess you can’t be mad about that.

[dfsdgaefh]

just some guys

[drawnbymabel]

happy birthday!!

[struwberrii]

chapter 1 : the usual ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

masterlist

another day goes by, same old same old. you wake up, get ready for work, then head down to the bakery and get things ready for opening. there are some good parts about owning my a bakery though, like being able to look out your stores window and seeing your new friend, osamu miya. you watch as he wipes down tables at his place.

you must’ve been staring for too long because you’re suddenly snapped out of your trance when you see him look up and wave over in your direction, to which you return. before you know it, it’s already time to open.

the day goes by fairly quick, some of your employees come and go, you make some of your signature deserts and making small talk with some of your regulars. honestly, your job wasn’t bad, it had always been a dream of yours to be the owner of a cute little bakery in tokyo, and now you’re finally fulfilling those dreams, you couldn’t be happier, sometimes you just wish you could push opening back a little later, but then you wouldn’t be able to see all your favorite customers who come in for a morning coffee and biscuit or slice of cake before they head of to work.

before you know it, lunch time rolls around, for lunch you usually head out to grab food or go cook at your apartment down the block, but today you decided to go visit osamu. when you first opened up your bakery,“dreamy desserts”, osamu was the first business owner to come welcome you to the strip, he also dropped off some of his famous onigiri, ever since that first bite you found yourself sneaking off across the street to grab an onigiri or 2, sometimes even bringing a few back to the bakery for your workers.

‘ring ring’

that familiar sound of the bells on the onigiri miya doors rang as you pushed the door open.

“ahhh y/n! nice to see ya’ round’ again!” osamu exclaims throwing his arms up in celebration. there were a few people in the store, waiting for their food or just eating at the bars, but you decided to make your way over to the cash register osamu was handling.

“hi osamu! i haven’t seen you in forever, what’s it been like 2 days now” you joked lightly pushing his shoulder. he brushed it off with a smiled and run you up for your usual. as you’re taking your card out you hear the entrance bell ringing again, you think nothing of it until you hear loud conversation between 2 men. then you pause again when you look up and see osamus once lit up face dressed in a smile, now rocking a frown so low you were taken aback.

you turned around to see what all the commotion was, only to see a blonde osamu looking straight through your head at osamu with a sly smirk, and a taller, foxy eyed boy stood next to him, you accidentally locked eyes with him, and it looks could kill, you’d be reduced to a pile of ash by now.

you whipped your head back around embarrassing quick and finished up paying for your onigiri while the two customers made their way to the bar next to you.

“heeeyyyy samu, got anything new fer me and sunarin to try?” the blonde laughed while nudging his darker haired friend in the arm “yeah how bout’ you try getting out of my restaurant”. osamu snapped back, yet his tone still sounded lighthearted.

after you paid for your food you made your way to another corner of the store to wait for your food to be made. scrolling on your phone a bit only to be interrupted by your name being called. you looked up only to see osamu and the 2 guys he was talking to staring back at you

“y/n! you’ve never met my brother, have you?” osamu questioned. “i honestly didn’t even know you had a brother” you laughed in return. “oh… whups”. osamu laughed back “whaattt!!! samu you don’t tell yer friends you’ve got a handsome older brother!?” the blonde snapped back at osamu. “why would i lie to my friends bout' having a handsome older brother?” this little encounter led to a short argument between the two brothers.

“well anyhow;” the blonde said looking back over to you, “i’m atsumu, samus brother, it’s a pleasure to meet you, and who might you be gorgeous” he said holding a hand out, giving you a sly grin. “i’m y/n, nice to meet you too” you say hesitantly shaking his hand in return. "and this guy here behind me is suna, hes actin' all shy" atsumu laughed, his friend looked up from his phone only to give atsumu a distasteful look before looking over to you. "suna, nice to meet you" he says nodding his head at you. such a short interaction and you already felt butterflies in your stomach.

he was so tall and toned, and his voice was so deep, you could have sworn you felt it in your chest. while you were fawning over him in your head you didn't even realize he had turned back to his phone, not even taking a second to wait for you to introduce yourself. oh god, he probably thinks your'e so rude now, just staring him down instead of properly introducing yourself. your'e definitely going to beat yourself up over this later.

"sorry for the wait y/n, heres yer food" osamu hands a paper bag to you over the counter. "wow, yer actually handing her the bag instead of smacking her on the side of the head with it, must be nice" atsumu says frowning at his twin. "maybe im nice to her cause' she isn't a pain in my ass" osamu snaps back. "tch, whatever" atsumu crosses his arms as a response. "see ya 'round y/n!" osamu waves as you make your way out "bye y/n" atsumu says after his brother, to which you wave in response.

on your way back to the bakery all you can think about is your interaction with suna. you thought about texing osamu about him, but decided on waiting until after the lunch rush died down in his store, and of course until after suna left, just incase osamu said something about it to him.

geez, this whole interaction has fully thrown you off your game, all you can think about it what youre going to text osamu tonight.

[plagalkey]

late night takeout (street racing au)

[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.