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#Miya osamu x y/n
quirrrky · 1 day
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—LEAVE ME LOVING YOU [miya osamu x reader]
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❝The sun is setting in purple and blue. Is there no getting closer to you?❞
Miya Osamu, your crush's twin, secretly pretended to be his brother to save you from embarrassment. It was supposed to be just for a day, but he never expected he'd yearn for more with you.
Will you be able to see right through his facade? Can he leave his brother's shadow before it's too late?
𐑂 inspired by jackson wang's LMLY 𐑂 secret admirer, unrequited love? timeskip, mini-series 𐑂 ongoing; weekly 𐑂 taglist: drop this emoji 🍙 on the ask box or on the reply section to be added    —𐑂 
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LMLY [moodboard]
✦ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (october 5!) reaching out for you to bring you to me
✦ 𝐭𝐰𝐨 what if I just hold on for a while?
✦ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 baby, there's no drug quite like denial
✦ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 if you're out of this when I'm all in, I need a warning
✦ 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 if you don't feel it too, whatever you do, don't leave me loving you
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#𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀
this idea is in my head even before nonnie-chan requested for an osamu fluff. I know I did a serious damage with glimpse of us. I may have broken hundreds of hearts, so now I'm fixing them. while reading the request, I was listening to this song and the plot thickens. I just cried at how I imagined the last chapter to be. I'm just so excited! ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧
© quirrrky 2024 - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, reposted, modified, translated in any form or by any means.
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samu coloring by @/hiddeninventories | @pixelcafe-network
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sweetmarmalade · 21 days
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Osamu stood behind the counter of Onigiri Miya, meticulously shaping a rice ball, his hands moving with practiced ease. The lunchtime rush had just ended, leaving the shop in a peaceful lull. You sat at one of the small tables, watching him work, a soft smile playing on your lips.
"Yer starin’," Osamu called out, his southern drawl thick, though his eyes remained focused on the task.
You chuckled. "Can’t help it. You look cute when you're in the zone."
He smirked, glancing at you for just a second before returning his attention to the onigiri. "Cute, huh? Don’t think anyone’s ever called me cute for that before."
"Guess I'm the first, then," you teased, leaning back in your chair.
Osamu finished shaping the onigiri and set it on a plate, washing his hands and wiping them in towel. He walked over, placing the plate in front of you. "Here. Taste test fer me?"
You took the onigiri, feeling the warmth of the freshly made rice. As you bit into it, the perfect blend of flavors hit your taste buds, and you hummed in satisfaction. "It’s amazing, as always."
Osamu leaned against the counter, watching you with a proud, satisfied grin. "Good. Got plenty more where that came from."
"Maybe I’ll have to hang around more often then," you teased, though you both knew it was a promise more than a joke.
"Wouldn't mind that at all," Osamu replied softly, his eyes lingering on you just a little longer before returning to his work.
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noosayog · 11 months
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002 get him back!
✧ wc: 4k
✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,
✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist
divider from @/cafekitsune
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It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.
“Well you dated me didn’t you?!” 
“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly. 
You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile? 
“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says. 
“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble. 
“True. But he is an idiot.” 
You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale. 
“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.” 
You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter. 
“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.
“Huh?” 
“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?” 
Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen. 
“Why not?” 
He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it. 
He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you. 
And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl. 
“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently. 
You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in. 
“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.” 
Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps. 
The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating. 
“So, found a guy to take you out?” 
“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have. 
“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.” 
You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this: 
“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases. 
“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both. 
“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?” 
With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation. 
When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim. 
It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant. 
When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child. 
“Now yer turn. What was that about?”
“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!” 
“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”
You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently. 
“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.” 
That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice. 
“‘Samu…” 
“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.” 
It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you. 
Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted. 
He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight. 
At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.
And it goes on. 
As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular. 
When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter. 
You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.” 
He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before. 
Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.” 
“Dude, nice try,” you had said. 
But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night. 
He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break. 
“I’ll walk with ya.” 
“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?” 
He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit. 
Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time. 
You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight. 
As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway. 
“I’m onto ya,” he starts. 
You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.” 
It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.
“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you. 
“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.” 
The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.  
Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face. 
It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself. 
It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had. 
His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway. 
Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone. 
He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs. 
“Why do ya let him get to you like that?” 
You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes. 
“Who?” you mumble. 
But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air. 
“I don’t know… I just…” 
“Are ya still in love with my brother?” 
“No,” you answer honestly. 
Osamu raises his brows. 
“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.” 
“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?” 
“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off. 
He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin. 
“I wanna get him back,” you admit. 
Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.
“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!” 
“Huh?” 
“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-” 
“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.” 
You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation. 
“Osamu…” 
“Am I wrong?” 
He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before. 
But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used. 
His question goes unanswered. 
– 
The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu. 
It doesn’t make you miss him any less. 
You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around. 
The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.
And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision. 
That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock. 
The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth. 
“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?” 
There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.
“Uh,” you stutter. 
“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-” 
“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say. 
“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”
“Just wait a minute, okay-” 
“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”
“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu. 
You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.
You instantly feel the panic rise in your system. 
“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone. 
Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.” 
Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks. 
You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.
Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act. 
When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory. 
Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do. 
“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-” 
Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out. 
“Hey, ‘Samu!” 
“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face. 
Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope. 
He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy. 
“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you. 
He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly. 
“You just…?” he prompts. 
The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself. 
Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.” 
His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?” 
His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him. 
“Missed you,” you whisper. 
Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you. 
“And I like you so much, Osamu.” 
He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap. 
You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?” 
He stops stroking your hair. 
“What, ya don’t like it?” 
You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk. 
He’s teasing, you realize.
You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him. 
You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time. 
“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?” 
You nod shyly. 
“I need to hear it, sweetheart.” 
“I want it.” 
“Alright. C’mere then.” 
You oblige. 
“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck. 
You nod. 
“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?” 
It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle. 
“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” 
It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.” 
You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth. 
He’s nonchalant when he shrugs. 
“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”
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doingitforbokuto · 7 months
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Osamu x female!reader
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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."
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clawsdevour · 6 days
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his marks
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wc: 0.2k content warning: osamu x reader, suggestive, mention of marking/lovebites, hc that osamu loves to see u w/ his marks..., not proof read
ׄ 𓂂 ઇ⠀⠀⠀ ׅ
Head spinning in tune with the increasingly intimate atmosphere. The sounds of Osamu's lips sucking on your warm skin, sloppy wet noises resonating in your ears the more he goes up and down your neck.
Leaving behind his red and noticeable marks that showed others that you are his. His droopy big eyes exchanged snarky glances from beneath.
Your fingers gripping onto the back of his grey and dark brown hair, stroking his locks in between your digits. His heavy body casually lays on you, arms wrapped around you to secure you in place.
The breeze whooshing over the red bruised looking love bites on the top of your chest, just right above the hem of your tank top. The glistening leftover saliva sitting in small pools on the surface of your skin.
His soft nips work at the contours of your face. Moving down to kiss your jaw, as if sampling all of you. His hand is under your thin tank and on your bare breast, kneading and massaging your tit like dough. A nipple in between his two thick fingers, almost in a pinching motion while you whimper in arousal.
"Ya taste so good.. I can't stop."
masterlist here
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teamatsumu · 11 months
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kinktober 2023 -> day 31
breeding kink - miya osamu x reader
word count: 1512
A/N: so this is it! thank you so much for everyone who stuck around for this kinktober event. 31 fics in 31 days, its the biggest project i have ever done. thank u for all the love and support ❤️
kinktober masterlist
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What is stopping you?
Your mind repeated the question in your head every day, and it felt like your brain was yelling at you in frustration and confusion, wanting to know why exactly you were tongue tied in this situation. It made no sense to wait anymore. The time was ideal.
Truly, there couldn't be a better time to bring it up. You were happy with your job, Osamu’s business was flourishing; he had just opened another Onigiri Miya in Tokyo. He had a good staff now, an organized system on how to manage it all. He didn’t have to be the only person worrying for the business anymore, since he had hired experienced managers. It allowed him enough breathing room to come home early, cook a nice, hearty dinner for you both that you enjoyed while sprawled on the couch in front of the TV. Money wasn’t a worry anymore.
So really, what was stopping you from bringing up the topic of kids?
You seemed to have become lost in the same thoughts again because you only came to when Osamu nudged you, making you blink and tear your eyes away from the TV screen. He was looking at you questioningly, and you could see a hint of worry behind his dark eyes.
“What’s on yer mind, doll?”
You shook your head and smiled, shrugging a bit. “It’s no big deal ‘Samu. Just a project at work.”
He hummed a little, shoving more noodles into his mouth and sparing you little glances as he did so. You knew he didn’t believe you. Your husband knew you too well to fall for such an obvious lie. But you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out how to broach the topic that was itching in the back of your mind for the last few days.
What do I even say? Put a baby in me?
You swallowed down the little knot that formed in your throat at the thought. Fuck. Was this turning you on? You grit your teeth tight enough that it hurt your jaw, scolding the little voice in your head to not do anything stupid.
When has your brain and lack of filter ever listened to you, though?
The next night, when Osamu had you sprawled on his lap, your back against his front, two fingers buried knuckles deep inside you and having pulled an orgasm out of you already, you babbled out the thought that had been plaguing you for many, many days.
“‘Sa- Samu,” you whined, long and desperate, dragging out his name. “Need your cock. Need your cum. Please.”
Osamu groaned in reply, pulling out his drenched fingers from your core and laying you on the bed. You pulled your legs up on instinct, spreading them wide, knees brought up to your sides. Osamu’s responding moan was sinful.
“S-shit, baby,” he breathed, clumsy hands quickly discarding his shirt and sweatpants. “Ya want it that bad? So ready to take me?”
You nodded your head frantically, back arching when he finally sunk his big, throbbing cock into you. The slide was comfortable and easy, considering how long you had spent spread apart on his fingers. Osamu wasted no time in immediately picking up speed, knowing exactly what spots to hit that had you reduced to a weepy mess.
You fumbled around until you had grabbed Osamu’s hands, hooking both of them under your knees and applying pressure. Osamu stared at you in realization before he shifted a bit and used his weight to hold your legs apart. You wanted him to put you in a mating press.
“This what ya want, sweetheart?” His voice was so hoarse you felt like you could cum just at the sound of it. “Fuck, ya look so sexy. All spread out fer me.”
Osamu was big on dirty talk, you knew. He loved speaking during sex and he loved when you spoke during sex. Over the years, you two had tried any and every thing in the bedroom that you possibly could, and you had lost all shame when it came to voicing your desires. The filthier, the better actually. Osamu could easily cum if you talked him through it.
Pair that with your days-old ruminating thoughts, and everything spilled out of you like word vomit.
“‘Samu,” you gasped. “Fuck me hard and deep, please. Please. Need to- need to be filled up with your cum, daddy. Need it.”
Osamu’s thrusts sped up and he cursed under his breath. “You’ll get it, babygirl. You’ll get daddy’s cum. Every last drop.”
You nodded frantically, crying out at a particularly well aimed thrust. “Yes! I- Osamu!” You wailed when his thumb made contact with your clit. Your nails dug into his back as you scrambled to pull him close. “Gimme. ‘Samu, gimme.”
Osamu was moaning into the skin of your neck, your legs over his shoulders and your body bent in half. “What’s gotten into ya today, baby? So greedy.”
You wound a hand through his hair, feeling the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter. You were seconds away from an orgasm. You pulled his head up by the hair until he was looking into your eyes. Your tears-coated, weepy eyes.
“Get me pregnant, Osamu. I want your kids.”
You didn’t have the time or the mental coherence to look at his reaction, because your orgasm washed over you like a freight train. Osamu’s movements stuttered, as a result of your words or you reaching your peak, you didn’t know. All you could do was feel the waves of electricity wash over you as you tried to breathe through the overwhelming feeling.
It was only when Osamu slowed to a stop in you, still twitching and throbbing, that you opened your wet eyes. He was looking down at you with mouth slightly open in shock, breathing still labored from his previous exertion. His dark hair was messy, stuck to the sweat on his forehead. All was silent between you.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, trying to see through your post-orgasm face. You nodded slowly.
“Thought about it a lot.” You admitted, tightening your legs around his waist a bit. “I’m ready if you are.”
A few more seconds, before Osamu bit his bottom lip and groaned, eyes falling to half mast again. He breathed deep, shaking his head. The corner of his mouth twitched up a bit.
“Do ya know how long I’ve waited fer this?” His voice was husky. He pulled himself up and unwound your legs from his waist. Then he bent you in half again, before setting a fast, bruising, brutal pace.
You gasped and threw your head back at the sudden change, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm, jaw going slack. His cock pounded into you with all the ferocity he could summon, one of the roughest sessions you two had had for a while, burning through you like embers crawling under your skin.
“Thought ‘bout it so much.” He continued choking out words, not slowing in the slightest. “The thought of ya all fat an’ swollen with ma kids. Fuck. Yer gonna look radiant.”
You moaned with him, picturing your pregnant belly, glowing face. Picturing a little human that you will birth. A human that Osamu could potentially put in you now.
“Daddy,” you whined. “Need…. I need- please.”
“Need what, baby?” Osamu had a little smirk on his face. His skin was flushed and damp, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out his pupils. He looked feral.
“Need my load in ya? That it? Need ta take every last drop, yeah? Can’t risk wastin’ it.”
His hand came up, winding into your hair and tugging hard until you yelped.
“Take it, doll. Take it-”
His voice broke into a long moan as his hips stuttered and you felt warmth flood your insides, his bulging biceps trembling as he tried to hold his weight up through his orgasm. He was loud through it, coaxing you with rough words and even rougher fingers pinching your clit until you came one last time with a heaving cry, eyes rolling up into your head.
You had barely caught your breath when Osamu reached up to grip your face tightly with one hand, your cheeks squishing together. You stared at him with zoned out, misty eyes.
“Don’t ya dare waste a single drop.” He whispered so close that his lips brushed your puckered ones. “Keep it inside yer pussy like a grateful slut, ya hear me?”
You moaned in response, nodding weakly against his grip. He pulled out then and you clenched tightly, but you could feel it as a little bit trailed down your crack. Osamu hummed in disappointment, holding your legs open and watching as his cum leaked out.
“Poor baby. Couldn’t do it, could ya?” You felt him lean forward and brush a surprisingly soft kiss below your ear.
“I guess I’ll just have ta keep goin’ until I know yer pregnant fer sure.”
Taglist:
@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy y @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein
A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!
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haikyu-mp4 · 3 months
Text
Foreign
word count; 1664 – f!reader, chubby reader
this is dedicated to the amazing writer and my very good friend, @cottonlemonade <3
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You were new to Inarizaki this fall, starting in the middle of the semester. What a great time to try and make new friends, right? It is even better when you’re moving from another country and not fluent in the language. Sure, you understood Japanese well, but you could be quite slow in answering, so many of those you tried to interact with simply couldn’t be bothered, especially teenagers.
So when the principal sent an e-mail a few days before you started school, informing you that Kita Shinsuke would be showing you around on your first days, your expectations weren’t very high.
Needless to say, you were proven wrong. You got along very well with the kind boy who had the patience to wait for you to gather your words. It didn’t take long for him to suggest you join a club, asking if you might be interested in managing his volleyball team. He insisted that it could give you a boost into the social circles, but made sure you knew it was all up to you.
Here you are, two days after starting Inarizaki and standing at the entrance of the volleyball court with a tray of one of your favourite recipes from your home country. The tray was pushing into your squishy stomach as you clutched the sides nervously and tried to take a mental note of all the names you knew and the ones you would have to learn.
Everyone’s attention shifted when Kita cleared his throat and gestured towards you while looking at some of his teammates with strict eyes. “This is the girl I told you about, she will be trying out for manager this week so I expect you all to behave.”
Their gazes went to you and you gulped, quickly lifting the tray. “I brought a peace offering,” you said, having practised saying that in Japanese in the minutes before Kita met up with you.
Most of them slowly started coming over, but one seemed particularly drawn towards you, making his identical twin try and speed past him to reach you first. “What is this?” the silver-haired twin asked while fighting off the other one so he could grab first.
“It’s a recipe from my home country…” and as you explained it to him, you were thrilled to see he didn’t immediately get bored of you taking your time with finding the words. While all the other team members came and grabbed their pieces before settling somewhere in the gym to stretch and eat, Miya Osamu, who at some point remembered to introduce himself, stayed put in front of you to listen while munching on and appreciating the delicious homemade food.
“So you’re a foodie too, have you cooked any Japanese food yet?” he asked, and you tucked the tray under one arm now that it was empty, following him as the two of you walked over to where the manager should be.
“I haven’t, my parents don’t know much about it too,” you answered honestly.
Osamu chuckled. “Either,” he corrected, giving you the right Japanese expression for it. “They don’t know much either.” You blushed, looking to the side and only then noticing that the others were gathering to start practice. “But I could show you sometime? My mom and I love cooking.”
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That is how you ended up in this predicament, wearing a matching apron with Osamu while Atsumu sat by the kitchen island with a judgy look.
You were a bit uncomfortable at first, wondering if the apron was too tight and exposed one too many of your curves for him to look at you like that, but you tried not to think about it when Osamu was being so nice and lending his time. After all, Osamu had not-so-subtly touched your waist or lower back whenever he had to move past you even if there really was no reason to do so.
“Hey, Atsumu,” you started, using your kindest voice, not noticing how Osamu sharply looked up from where he was preparing the last fillings. “Since I’ll be the manager, why don’t you tell me about being a setter?”
Atsumu leaned on his hand with his elbow on the counter and let his face slowly fall off it with his eyes closed. “Sorry! Almost fell asleep there, you were taking so long.”
Osamu was about to launch a whole spoon at his brother’s head “Ya stupid-“ when you burst out laughing.
It made Osamu’s stomach do flips as he watched you laugh with one hand leaning on the counter and the other clutching your chubby stomach. “You’re quite rude, aren’t ya?” you asked rhetorically, having already picked up a piece of their dialect.
Atsumu perked up in his seat when you didn’t seem to break under his insult, fighting back a smile of his own at how your laughter rang off the kitchen walls. “Pff, shut up.”
“You seem pretty intent on staying around so I can’t be that bad,” you teased, and it held just enough charm for him to accept it.
Atsumu squinted at you before going back to leaning on his palm. “I was just hoping to steal some food.”
You looked at Osamu with your sweet smile and said “What’s next, chef?”
The redness creeping up Osamu’s neck was not easy to hide. “Uhh, right. Just to shape them, really.”
“Is there a trick to make it nice?” you asked, holding some rice in one hand and eyeing the filings.
“If you count rounds, it’s easier than just squeezing randomly, so work your way around the shape-“ he explained, showing you with his rice ball as he talked.
You stared at your hands before shaping some rice and filling it, before grabbing another half of rice and… not making it quite as pretty. “Sorry, could you show me one more time? I want to do it as well as you without using moulds.”
Osamu started picking up more rice before stopping abruptly, throwing it back in the bowl and moving closer to you. That dummy had watched enough clichés to figure this was the perfect opportunity to wrap his hands around yours and show you. He executed said cliché perfectly, and the way your warm hands felt was almost enough to distract him from the task.
“Disgusting, right in front of my salad,” Atsumu complained before finally walking out of the kitchen to presumably bother their mother instead.
The two of you started filling and shaping the onigiri, bumping into each other now and then and throwing out flirty comments. If all the students at Inarizaki were so welcoming, you would be more than fine.
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On Friday, after your last class, Kita stood outside your classroom and patiently waited for you. He bowed shortly after you exited, making you return the gesture. “Kita! What a pleasure,” you said.
He gestured towards the hallway so you could start walking together. “I wanted to ask how your first week has been.”
There’s a little skip in your step as you start thinking of this week. “I had trouble with some girls in the cafeteria, but I’m already feeling like my Japanese is developing much quicker so I’m sure it will all work out.”
Kita hummed under his breath, seemingly in thought for a moment before responding. “I see, I’m glad you’re looking on the positive side.” He turned a corner, making sure you followed as he steered towards the gym. “And the team? How are you feeling about the manager position?”
“They’re all very nice. Chaotic but fun,” you said with a soft chuckle. “Osamu has been especially welcoming, even though Atsumu gave me a hard time at first,” you continued, laughing at the last part.
Kita frowned, slowing down slightly. “A hard time? I hope you don’t feel pressured to accept the position, Atsumu can be… he has an attitude, but he works hard,” he excused, using his hands to gesture, and it was the first time you saw Kita look even a tad unsure.
Your short laughter made him stop, looking curiously at you. “I was going to say that if you’ll still have me, I’d love to accept the position.”
“That’s great news.” A small smile appeared on his face and that was enough for you, as you opened the door to the gym and gestured for him to walk first.
Osamu came jogging over the second you entered. “Hey, captain!” he greeted Kita as he passed him, heading straight for you. “How do you feel about trying something more complicated this weekend?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as if suggesting something much dirtier than cooking.
You shot him some finger guns, smooth as ever as he walked backwards towards the bench area while you faced him. “You’re on!” you responded cheerfully.
“Is my place still okay?” he asked, just as Atsumu walked over and bumped his shoulder, making him trip over his feet. You frantically held your cute, chubby hand out and he grabbed it before you helped him up again. You must have been a sight to see with your matching red cheeks.
“You lovebirds gonna take up the kitchen again?” Atsumu sighed dramatically. You noticed over his shoulder that Suna was filming this as Osamu caught his brother in a headlock.
“Leave our new manager alone!” Aran said in an authoritative yet fond voice. Kita stood beside him with his arms crossed, so you assumed he had told Aran that you accepted.
“So it’s decided?” Osamu asked, and the excitement in his voice was palpable.
“I will was your manager starting today!” you announced, already picking up the basket with their water bottles to go fill them up.
“Will be our manager,” Atsumu corrected, probably about to make another quip at you, only to be interrupted by Osamu chuckling affectionately and coming over to take the basket from you.
Kita shook his head at their antics. This would be a fun year with his team.
masterlist
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forusomimiya · 6 months
Text
@coyloves ship & prompt: “Look how messy you are” w/ Osamu Miya ˚₊˚✧🍙✧˖°🍂
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"I've been thinking about bending you over this table and just having my way with you" His knuckles caressed your chin before he gripped your jaw and made your head tilt to the opposite side of his face, to have easier access to your neck and kiss it. He smiled when he felt you straighten up, product of shivering. "You like the idea?" you thought you nodded, but it was so subtle your movement that it was enough for Osamu to understand that when you were speechless, it was because you found his proposal more than decent.
It wasn't the first time you had sex in the store. The routine would end up being the same as all the other times before: Osamu wooing you until he had you right where he wanted you, clumsy hands caressing each other's body, quick and warm kisses, and discretion in moaning so he could pay attention to the door bell in case Kita came carrying bags of rice. The last time was fun, despite the fact that you almost got caught red-handed.
"We should be quick."
"Yeah" Osamu said in a sarcastic tone. "I can see you're in a hurry" He pointed his gaze at the wetness in your panties, licking his lips, holding back from touching you still. "Look how messy you are".
"Samu! are you even listening to me?"
"I'm trying to pay attention, but you're just too sexy. Not gonna lie."
"Then, tell me what you want me to do" His grayish eyes bore into yours, able to read what they expressed.
Then Osamu lifted you up and sat you on the cold marble table of the warehouse, taking a quick glance at your body, stunned by the beauty of your curves, savoring them in his mind, decanting and amusing himself with his favorite parts.
"Let me hear your beautiful moans a second time today, darling" His thumbs played with the inside of your thighs, spreading them open, allowing a glimpse beneath them of your chubby pussy. "Hah… shit" He exhaled excitedly. His hips rocked forward instinctively, needing to have you lying there on your back for him, legs spread wide.
The throbbing in his chest began to ache as you lay back on the table and circled his hips drawing him to you, pulling your shirt up and exposing your large breasts squeezed into your bra.
"You're going to fuck me?"
"Fuck… Of course I do" In a quick set of hands, Osamu unclasped your bra as he worked his way under your boxers, reaching for his cock and pumping it a couple of times while his mouth was distracted with your breasts. He didn't skimp on making as much noise as possible as he savored and kneaded them at the same time, sucking your nipples and pinching them on his lips before releasing them. "They are so perfect… just mine" He kneaded relentlessly, and when he noticed that his cock was about to burst through his underwear, he released it as best he could, —caused by nervousness and quickness by the impatience of being inside you—, and pushing aside your panties, he entered you ever so slowly without losing sight of the expression on your face as he filled you.
"Atta girl, fucking your boss in his own warehouse, huh?"
He settled into a steady rhythm, and cursed himself for not having taken you earlier at that table. The movements of your body in response to his thrusts were something Osamu had yet to deal with. The bouncing of your tits followed by pithy gasps flooded his mind so quickly and directly, that in order to speed up the command his brain sent to his cock, he had to take possession of your hips and lighten the pace. His mind clouded as your insides tightened and his ears filled with his cursed name, thus ignoring —though not willingly—, your warning you were cumming. Osamu forgot the discretion agreed upon at the beginning and made sure to fuck you in the roughest way, letting anyone planning to enter the store know that he was busy to attend to any customers or receive any packages.
Maybe that day, the "closed" sign would remain hanging on the door for another hour.
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shaisuki · 4 months
Note
i wonder what will bully! miya twins and bully! suna react when they find out manager! chubby reader is sick? or maybe in their period with the most painful cramps known to mankind? hahaha been thinking this for a while now😓
they get a little worried. yeah, worried.
it was annoying at first why you didn't show up at practice and it was boring as hell. the drills they were doing was little less entertaining without you. they don't see your body jiggling, chasing the stray balls to be put away and you're belly being squished from how many water bottles you are carrying or see yourself trip.
so when one late afternoon practice, they don't see you prepping up for the practice they just shrugged it first. maybe you're running late or you're putting up for the paperwork. when you didn't show up something is definitely wrong.
as bad you don't want to join the practice, you didn't want to ditch your duty as the manager even it costs being made fun of those trio whom you always made their days complete when they get a good laugh out of you. you just have to make this cramps go away or whatever call the saints or something just to get through with your monthly problems.
they find out you were curled up in the nurse's office. a heating pad in your stomach while you passed the time in your own little area until atsumu's voice rang to the small office and finding you resting on the bed.
“awww, poor baby.” atsumu feigns concern. plopping beside you and the two following suit. you remained motionless not wanting to move in order to avoid putting pressure on your abdomen. “does this hurt so much?” suna asks. you nodded and his cold hands creeps under your shirt to rub your round belly. squirming, you found yourself to be in more relief, you wouldn't say that.
“i heard sex helps with cramps.” atsumu commented. looking at his twin with a mischievous smirk in his face. “oh, really.” osamu's replies in a monotonous voice but his hands are in your thighs pawing at your skin.
“then, maybe let's put it to test.” and they all nodded in agreement.
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asunflowerana · 30 days
Text
lotus love
summary: who knew a festival miles away from home would help Miya confess his feelings.
with: Osamu Miya
warnings: friends to lovers, oblivious reader, tatoos, dear osamu is so patient i can't 😅 fluff fluff fluff
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Another road sign appears in your field of vision, a red ‘60’ stamped on the painted wood making Osamu slow down while driving, a gentle wind now coming through the open window and running your skin. It’s been almost three hours since you guys started the road trip to Kanagawa, and even though you enjoy watching the beautiful landscape sideways, your stomach is making a riot inside for food.
Being the copilot, you check out your current location on your phone’s map, letting out a relieved sigh as you notice a small festival going on a few miles away.
This is it.
You hear him chuckling, having no idea that he actually heard that sigh along with your now pleased expression. “Did ya find our next stop?”
“Lotus Festival, five kilometers away.” You answer him, scrolling through the event’s pictures. “Oooh, I found a yakitori stall there! Okay, we need to stop in this place.” Just imagining the seasoned grilled chicken skewered in a kushi makes your mouth drool faster than the car’s wheels.
“You got it.” Osamu smiles, also liking the idea of filling his tummy to the brim with food. “But, why Lotus?”
You search for the meaning on the web. “It says that this festival happens in the blooming season, which represents the 'rejuvenation of love’, in a few cultures. It’s most visited for old couples to rekindle their relationship, and singles searching for love. It’s really sweet…” You add, looking at some old married folks hugging each other. “But it’s kinda weird? Like, imagine someone traveling there just to find love? What if they find nothing and return home with a broken heart and less than twenty bucks?” You ponder out loud.
“Yeah, that sucks,” He mumbles, suddenly getting more interested in this festival. He turns to look at you, still paying attention to the empty road. “But it’s not the end of the world. The love of your life might be right beside ya, right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” You’re too worried about the hypothetical heartbroken person to notice Osamu’s eyes lingering on you a tad longer before his shoulders slumped in defeat and his brown eyes return ahead.
Ten minutes later, and the “Welcome to Lotus Festival ” banner appears, its spring colors matching the flowery environment. It’s so beautiful, the greenish square full of lotus with different colors, bringing such a delicious aroma that it attracted several little birds on the way, drinking their nectar like they’re in a feast.
Osamu parks his blue jeep alongside a truck, and together you both walk to the festival, leaving your bags behind and carrying only the essentials inside your purse — wallet, phones, some painkillers, and your small polaroid camera.
There’re a lot of stalls selling bouquets, natural lotions, hair accessories and floral jewelry, clothes, as well as food and beverage stalls. In the middle of the square, a white bandstand decorated with fairy lights and leaves, with mistletoe hanging in the center.
There’s so much to see, that you might be staying there for more than an hour's break.
But first things first, you carry the grey-haired man by hand through the festival, ignoring his confused questions until you finally found your target.
The smell of yakitori invades your nostrils and takes all of your self-control to not steal a bit from a kid who just got their steaming portion. You both look at each other for a second, hungry gaze in your eyes before you two run to the booth, money in hands and mouth begging for food.
“Four yakitoris for the couple.” The seller says evenly, handing you the warm skewers. Osamu forgets his food desire and gazes surprised at you, but you’re already devouring your grilled chicken like a starved lion.
“…Thanks.” Hesitant, he doesn’t correct the seller, handing him the money and moving away in your direction.
Did you really not hear what that guy said?
“Mmmmm… this is heaven.” You hum in delight, savoring the good taste as you finish your first skewer in record time. You look at him more pleased than before. “Thanks for the treat, ‘Samu. Choose whatever you want next, I’m buying.”
He nods in agreement and decides to forget the matter, taking a bite of his yakitori.
He doesn’t stop until it’s all gone.
You guys keep strolling, you buy some sweets for him while he treats you with a warm drink for the chilling weather, walking on the grass until a different booth catches your eye. On the sign, it shows that it’s a henna tattoo booth, choose one of the holiday models and you get a discount.
You get excited, having a new tattoo sounds super fun and it adds to the memories of this trip. And by the way Osamu is grinning down at you, he agrees with the idea as well.
Approaching the booth, you both look through the catalog, each model more beautiful than the other, making you undecided about the best.
“We could do matching tattoos.” Osamu proposes, pointing at the matching models on the second catalog page.
You nod, looking through the sketches. “They’re all so beautiful… I’ll let you decide.” You don’t usually trust him with those stylish things, but if you were to choose, you’d stay 30 minutes just gazing at them.
He hums for a moment, before pointing out at a beautiful Lotus sketch. “How about this one?”
“Rejuvenation of love. It’s a great choice, lots of couples order this one.” The woman owner of the booth says, a small smirk plastered on her face; Your brows raise, and Osamu is nervous, expecting a possible rejection, but you surprise him with your reaction. 
“That’s so genius ‘Samu! That way, we won’t even forget about this festival!”
Both of them deadpan.
“Good luck buddy.” The artist mumbles close to him, patting his shoulder before guiding you both to your seats. Another missed shot.
As it was on the sign, about thirty minutes passed before the tattoos were finally done, a lotus flower now decorating the inside of your forearms. The woman even did a thin stalk in both, which when the two forearms joined, would connect the flowers into a single branch.
This is so meaningful, but Osamu isn’t sure if it has the same meaning for you as it has for him. He thought his feelings would be clear as the sun's rays by now, but you’re still oblivious to them, he doesn’t know what to do anymore. The hints aren’t landing, and the wonder of whether you like him back or not is eating his brain alive, for a long time.
He can keep this trip friendly as planned, visiting Kanagawa for the day before returning to Shibuya as best friends. But there’s a growing chance that someone else might get the shot that he wants so badly with you, and if he doesn’t take this moment now, he might not have another one.
So after paying for the tattoos, he leads you to the white bandstand, wanting to “take some pictures” there. He waits for the right moment when no one is there, and takes you by the hand to the middle.
He doesn’t let go of you.
“Is everything okay?” You notice the way he’s nibbling his lower lip with his canine, something he usually does to calm down. He takes a deep breath, gazing at your eyes with determination.
“I like you.”
Osamu never liked to stall, so it’s best to just rip off the bandage. He keeps a firm grip on your hand as your brows finally raise in realization. “I like you. I don’t know when it started, and I don’t really care, I just know that it will never stop. I can’t stop wanting you. And I don’t know if I didn’t hit it right, or your pretty head is too oblivious to notice — Okay, sorry but you know it’s probably the second.” He chuckles, letting out the adrenaline from his pounding heart. “…I’m in love with you, _____.”
He recites as if they are the most important words to him, moving closer to you as he stares with passion at your shining, surprised orbs. He takes your face in his free hand, and his heart skips as you accept the caress, interlacing his fingers with yours while still speechless.
He doesn’t need an answer to see that you feel the same.
He looks above to the ceiling for a moment, your eyes following and noticing that you both are right under the mistletoe. He grins down at you, one of his cheeky smiles that makes your heart throb in adoration.
“Not that I need one of those to kiss you, but since this is our first—” He nuzzles his nose with yours, his skin gently grazing and soothing you. He whispers close, not taking his eyes off yours.
“Can I kiss you?”
Enchanted by his spell, you give him a small nod, granting him the freedom to lock his sultry lips with yours, making you forget everything else and focus only on the magical feeling of his passionate kiss, legs weakening and body resting inside his warm embrace.
You can’t hear some people applauding you from afar, nor feel the present flower scent around the place. But the lingering thought of your tattoos brushing against each other doesn’t leave your head anymore.
Rejuvenation of love. Lotus Festival is true to its word.
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a/n: i confess, i love when boys are the one pining around.
© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.
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kairiscorner · 1 year
Note
Hiii can I request prompt 59 with osamu!
"ah, sorry, i... oh, your hand's really soft."
OFC DEAR SKSMJDKDKSJSISKDKEK i wanna eat him he's such a LOVER BOY but is very lowkey about it, so SHY AND ADORABLE I EKDKSJKWNSIEKEJEKEK
"your hands are so... warm."
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a long day of volleyball practice and studying prompted you to ask osamu if he wanted to go get some soda with you at the nearest convenience store. he agreed, not that he had any reason to disagree, since you were only the cutest and sweetest person he has ever had the pleasure of meeting.
you two entered the convenience store, and like an obedient little puppy–or fox, rather–he quietly walked with you along the aisles of the store, listening to you as you spoke, nodding and shaking his head all sleepily, looking over at you with half-lidded eyes that were full of subtle adoration and love for you.
you spoke to him all about what happened today, about all the little things and the bouts of excitement and disappointment all throughout your day; it was the highlight of osamu's day to hear all about yours, really–and hopefully he wouldn't sound creepy if he were to admit that he gets a little sluggish when he doesn't get to see or hear from you at all from the day.
"hey, wanna try this one?" you ask him as he moves closer to you, looking over your shoulder to get a better look at the drink. "oh, as long as it isn't too sweet or strong, i'll take it." he said as you smiled. you two exited the convenience store and sat down at a nearby bench, just relaxing after a long day of work, studies, and practice. you rummaged in the bag, and you pulled out the drink you introduced him to. "here ya go, samu." you said as you handed him the drink, with osamu thanking you in a small mutter as he reached for it.
there was a split second when his whole body jolted up and froze–and it was in the very instance that his fingers were wrapped around yours. you didn't flinch, you found nothing wrong with the way he was holding your hand, you felt a little warmed up at the feeling, really. osamu blushes a bright pink when he realized just what the soft, gentle feeling was underneath his fingers was, and he tried pulling away, but his mouth ran quicker than his hand and his mind, and he blurted out:
"ah, sorry, i... oh, your hand's really soft..."
"you... really think so?"
"i-i mean... you feel... just right, i mean...!" he blurted out again, trying to cover up his embarrassing confession, merely blushing even worse while you stifled a giggle and smiled right up at the flustered, pink mess of the boy that he was. he could be serious, calm, and deadpanned at times–but around you, his one and only weakness, the only person who can pull him to be more expressive, emotional, and fired up at times–he can be a shy, cute little lover boy. and he doesn't mind getting used to being rattled by how much you make him melt, he adores being made into an embarrassed puddle of adoration and devotion to you, always.
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kairismess · 11 months
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pocky challenge with him. (part 3).
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osamu miya. — cookies and cream pocky.
osamu loves the taste of the chocolatey cookie bits and the sweet cream coating the biscuit... but he loves the taste of your lips even more. he may not seem like it, but osamu enjoys seeing you lose your composure as his seemingly calm face gets closer and closer to you. he wordlessly chomps down generous portions of the biscuit, his unfazed expression unchanging as his lips are only a hair's width away from you.
he bites forward, looking into your eyes as you get even more flustered and shy. pulling the remaining bits of the pocky away from you, osamu eats the biscuit up, kinda disappointing you because he hadn't kissed you... until he leaned over and pressed his lips against yours, pushing the piece of the pocky biscuit he was going eat into your mouth.
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atsumu miya. — mango pocky.
atsumu loves being a teasing little shit, chuckling and pointing out how cute you look when pissed off at his smug grinning. he purposely takes big bites out of the pocky, and every time you pull away or back out, he insists on doing the challenge once more.
the blonde's determined to get a kiss from you, though he doesn't wanna be the one to initiate–he wants you to kiss him, he wants you to want to kiss him. after multiple failed attempts, his confidence slowly starts to wane as you show zero interest in kissing him.
until you break off a piece of the pocky again, and unexpectedly, you cup his face in your hands and kiss him, leaving him all red and pink, flushed–all the way down to his neck and shoulders.
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bokuto kotaro. — almond crush vanilla pocky.
bokuto enjoys eating the crunchy biscuit, though he enjoys seeing your face directly across his when he's biting into it. he doesn't exactly know what's so challenging about eating up a pocky stick with you, but he does love seeing you stare into his eyes and get a bit shy when he's staring back at you with a sweet smile.
he swears the pocky stick tastes even sweeter now, and he doesn't know why! maybe he should share his pocky with you more often, though why do you look so sad when he lets you have the bigger piece when you're both finishing the pocky up?
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moonswolfie · 3 months
Text
Princess of the commoner cafe
Oikawa, Miya twins, Ushijima, Hinata, Akaashi x fem!reader
ohshc AU!!
I've been watching a bit of ouran high school host club lately (still havent gotten very far but i am HOOKEDDDDDD) and i'm sure others have written something like this before but i wanted to throw my own hat in the ring and write this delulu ass scenario
also i apologise PROFUSELY if anyone is ooc it has been a WHILE since my last haikyuu rewatch
(btw i am working on your request anon dont you worry ;) )
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Somehow, you managed to get into the prestigious Ouran Academy based on your academic success alone. Your parents were overjoyed to send you off, even if you felt embarrased about not even being able to afford the official school uniform. You stuck out like a sore thumb on your first day, that's for sure.
At first, you thought you wouldn't fit in with anyone here. Your hypothesis was mostly correct. Everyone in your class is always talking about their latest designer bag or bragging about their new lambo or bugatti. Needless to say, it's like they're speaking in a foreign language.
They quickly lost interest in you after you couldn't list your top ten designer brands (with reasons as to why you chose those specific ones!!!). Yeah, friends are kind of out of the picture.
So when your curiosity got the better of you one day and you visited the host club all the girls in your class keep squealing about you didn't expect things to develop like this.
"Are you gonna visit today too? Are you?!" Hinata, the boy from the other class attached himself to your arm and looked at you with sparkling eyes. "Of course I am." you smiled at him, a little giddy about returning to the club once more.
"We have a special theme today, just for you..." he told you that while wearing a mischevious grin but refused to elaborate. The boys at the club always go through great lengths to get you curious and draw you back into the club. Not just Hinata, all of them.
Let's just say you've become quite the sensation among the hosts of the Ouran High school host club. You aren't exactly sure how you managed to get yourself in this situation, but you aren't really complaining, either. You'd definitely take being adored by the 6 hotties of the school over being ignored by everyone for all your 3 years of high school.
All you did was visit the club a few times out of curiosity, far too afraid to actually openly interact with the hosts considering the crowd of girls always gathered around them. Not to mention you'd definitely get gawked at for your clothes, mannerisms and conversation topics (and not in a good way).
Akaashi was the first to take notice of you, and somehow that evolved into every other host becoming interested, too.
Anyways, Hinata seemed very satisfied with your promise to come visit once again and ran off, shouting that you have to promise to come visit him first.
Well, there's nothing to it but to do it, you suppose.
.
"Welcome, dear guests, to the host club!" all the guys greeted you and a group of other girls who also came as soon as they possibly could. They were practically pushing eachother in front of the door. Not that you can blame them.
As soon as you stepped into the room, you felt like you were standing at the local cafe located just around the corner from your house. It felt warm and homey. So this is what they went for this time. A strange choice, considering their usually extravagant themes.
"Heya, gir-" Atsumu's smug voice greeted you from behind and you turned around to see that he was about to envelop you in his arms. "Hey, ya lost the bet. I get her first." Osamu pulled Atsumu back by his barista apron before he could actually touch you. Atsumu grumbled something you couldn't quite hear, which you presume was some not so nice words directed towards his brother.
"Actually, I made a promise to Hinata that he'd be the first one I visit." you smiled at the twins apologetically. Neither of them seemed too pleased about the prospect of that, though. "Why? Ya like him more than us?" Atsumu placed his hands on his hips, glaring at you.
"Hahaha, a promise is a promise. I'll be back for you two right after, don't worry." you waved the twins off, winking. That seemed to soften their expressions a bit. But maybe it wasn't the smartest idea, looking back on it. They're definitely going to fight over which one of them you winked at later.
Hinata greeted you enthusiastically, looking overjoyed at seeing you. His cheeks blushed a nice pink color when he smiled at you. "Wait here, wait here." he held out an antique looking chair for you and you sat down behind one of the tables. Then he ran off somewhere.
You're always impressed by how lavishly they decorate their club. I guess being rich can really do wonders for club decor.
"Are you enjoying today's theme? I made sure to pick out some fitting decorations." Akaashi suddenly appeared behind you. You could have sworn you didn't hear his footsteps. Maybe you were just too absorbed in observing the theme, though. Haha, even all the hosts are dressed like baristas.
"Yeah..." you looked into Akaashi's eyes, admiring their color. You've always found him to have a calming presence, even if he can be mischevious at times. That just adds on to his personality, doesn't it? You think it's quite a shame that he isn't as popular as a certain someone in the club.
"It seems to me you're enjoying something other than the theme." you got snapped out of your thoughts by Akaashi's voice. Oops, you must have been staring at him again. You turned away, making a quick apology. You felt a little giddy all of a sudden.
"Oh, but when did I ever say I dislike the attention?" Akaashi gently grabbed your chin, turning your face back to him. Somehow, he seems more affectionate towards you than he does to the other girls who request him. Atleast you've never seen him grab other girls' chins. You were sure you probably looked awestruck in this moment.
"Hey! Stop hogging her to yourself!" Hinata was running back to the two of you, holding a fancy cup of (presumably) coffee. On his way to stop Akaashi from wooing you, he didn't notice a wire below his feet and he tripped over it.
...Which happened to spill hot coffee all over your shirt and shattered the cup to pieces. "Ugh... I'm okay, don't- AAAAH!" Hinata yelled upon seeing your shirt.
"I'll go get new clothes!" Akaashi seemed tense, quickly turning on his heels and running off.
Luckily, the coffee was cool enough to not give you burns. You aren't even worried about the shirt that much either, you've been on the fence about donating it anyways.
"Aaah, I'm so sorry. I'm so so so sorry." Hinata seemed almost dramatically apologetic, bowing down before you in apology over and over.
"What is going on over here?" you heard a smug voice that could belong to one person and one person only. The leader and self proclaimed king of the club, Oikawa, was now approaching the two of you. And he didn't seem very happy, mind you.
"Ah, Oikawa! It's, umm..." Hinata nervously whipped his head around to meet Oikawa's charming chocolate eyes.
"Hinata accidentally spilled coffee on me." Hinata looked at you sadly, like you just betrayed him. You gasped, realising you weren't supposed to reveal that unless you wanted Hinata to feel Oikawa's wrath. Normally he would just scold Hinata for his clumsiness, but when it comes to you specifically, he gets protective. Somehow, he even looks like a supermodel while wearing a barista uniform.
"He... Oh, that won't do. You should spend less time with clumsy good-for-nothings and spend more time with..." he tilted your chin towards him "...Me."
As much as you think Oikawa is an obnoxious jerk, he always manages to charm your negative feelings away when he does something like that. Gets you feeling all giddy like the main character of a badly written shojo anime.
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, bro." you kept your face as cold as you possibly could in that situation. It seemed to you like the word "bro" was a direct stab to his heart, but he quickly recovered, putting on his best flirty face. "I will help you clean yourself up, my princess. We simply must get you out of that dreadful shirt." Oikawa shot poor Hinata a glare. You're definitely buying him "that one good commoner chocolate" (as Hinata likes to call it) later.
"Uh, Akaashi's already-"
"Now now now, what's goin' on here?" things are about to get a lot more complicated, you reckon. Because now the twins have showed up.
"We heard precious china shatterin' and wanted to see what caused it." Osamu added. A few girls were blushing a few meters behind the twins, probably too nervous to approach the two right now.
"Ya said you'd come visit us right after! And now yer here with this a-" Atsumu immediately stopped complaining when he saw your shirt. Both the twins shot poor poor Hinata a glare. (One "poor" for each twin.)
"See, I told ya I was a better fit for ya. I'd never spill coffee on ya." Osamu crossed his arms.
"What do ya mean "the better fit for ya"? Clearly, I'm the better one 'round here. And say the wink was meant for me while we're at it, won't ya?!" Atsumu's anger was now directed back at Osamu. (Akaashi would joke that it's back to where it's supposed to be.)
"I was kinda winking at-"
"Oh, please. Don't joke around with me. We all know I'm the best fit for her." Oikawa posed dramatically, which looked funny because of his not very prince-like outfit.
This always ends up happening. At this point you've given up on stopping it. The twins start bickering with Oikawa while girls on both sides squeal for them to calm down, tearfully inviting the boys back into their embraces.
You look behind you, where Ushijima is staring at you knowingly. You give him a relieved smile, knowing what's about to come. Whenever the other guys get into duels over who gets to recieve your attention, Ushijima is always there to pull you out of the situation.
The duels get so heated that you get to spend a few minutes alone with him before the others even notice you're gone. And so you follow the routine of letting him whisk you away to a lonely corner of the club room.
"Do you know why the theme is a commoner cafe?" he asks after a few moments of silence. He's looking at you with complete seriousness, but you don't miss the hint of a smile on his face. Enchanted by such a sight, you shake your head no dreamily.
"It was to impress you. Akaashi thought of the idea." Your eyes widened. Now you just feel giddy that Akaashi actually remembered that one time you told him you used to visit a cozy cafe close to your house with your parents growing up. It was all the way back when he first acknowledged your existence and decided to sit around with you for a few minutes, sipping tea from a cup that probably costs more than your phone.
"Oh... I like it. I really do." you smiled up at Ushijima. You could swear a bit of blush appeared on his cheeks. He silently put an arm around you, pulling you close to him. You like when he does that.
When all of the hosts are swooning over you like this while wearing barista uniforms, you feel like the princess of a commoner cafe.
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noosayog · 1 year
Text
[baby fever] ft. miya osamu
wc: 400
iwa | ushijima | atsumu | sakusa | kageyama | oikawa
--
You adjust the gemstone earrings as you finish up the final touches of your outfit. It’s been a really long time since Osamu has been free for date night and he was sweet enough to make reservations for tonight. You’re just about ready when he pops his head in to check on you. 
“Ya ready, babe?” 
“Just a sec!” 
You grab your purse and make your way out. Osamu is waiting for you in the entryway, standing at his full height and dressed in a crisp, white button-up shirt. His usual attire of a plain black t-shirt is already enough to make you stare, but seeing the way his chest fills out the shirt and just the slightest bulge in his tummy makes you practically salivate. 
Osamu doesn’t question the way you gape, only chuckling a bit and getting on his knees to slip your heels onto your feet. He plucks your purse out of your slack grip and slides it on his shoulder, holding a hand out to escort you. 
You have heart eyes all night, keeping your gaze fixated on him instead of dinner. Osamu, a regular receiver of your stares, doesn’t seem to mind and simply opts to feed you bites of his dish when you remain still for too long. 
At the end of the night, Osamu asks for the dessert menu and talks you through the options, pointing at the options he knows you would like. 
You stop him though. You’ve been thinking about having a whole different nightcap all night. “Don’t want dessert, ‘Samu.” 
“No?” he raises a brow, corner of lips curling upwards and thumb brushing over your pulse point. 
“No,” you say. 
“Why not?” he teases. “Not feelin’ well?” He puts a warm palm on your thigh, where 2 of his thick fingers slip just a centimeter under your dress. 
“‘Samu,” you whine, but it comes out more of a gasp. You involuntarily push your thighs together. 
He lets out a low laugh and squeezes your thigh once. When he takes his hand back, his vacated spot feels cold, and he gives your ring finger a kiss in condolence. “I’ll go pay. Be right back.” 
When Osamu comes back, he helps you into your coat and easily grabs your hand to begin the short walk home. You’re silent on the walk, feeling hot. It doesn’t get better as Osamu breathes into your ear, grazes his hand around your hips, and pushes your bangs away every time the wind moves a single strand out of place. 
He’s in an astronomically good mood and finally, you give him the stink eye. “You’ve been teasing all night,” you pout. 
“I thought you liked it.” 
You harrumph and mumble, “you won’t like it so much when we accidentally pop out a kid 9 months from now.” 
He raises a brow, pressing your whole body closer to his side. 
“Says who?”
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hiraethwa · 4 months
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ִ ۫ ּ ֗ – lost and found.
pairing: miya osamu x reader a/n: my ushijima fic procrastination/trying to get the creative juices flowing attempt word count: 700
miya osamu has few regrets in life. one of them was breaking things off with you when things got rough. that was a few years ago back in high school when he was immature and too caught up with trying not to be left behind by atsumu. 
his last words to you then were “i don’t have time for us right now.” he thought he had time on his side after volleyball, after high school, at the next stage of life, but he realizes now that it was childish of him to think that he would have more time in the future. 
with onigiri miya being a success in the city far away from your childhood home of hyogo, he is kept busy with the day to day operations of the shop. not that it would have mattered, since your family moved away from hyogo when he returned from nationals, and he has not seen or heard from you since. 
the eleven digits are still stored under your name in his phone, transferred from his old flip phone he used in high school, even though he had it memorized by heart. he had stared at the numbers for an unhealthy amount of time, unable to bring himself to dial it. 
it wouldn’t have mattered, he told himself, what was the point of barging into your life again when he was the one who ended things? no, he did not have the right to do so. heck, you could have moved out of the country for all he knows.
except he does know, he just can’t remember it. it was a few days before winter break. he vaguely recalls you calling and telling him something about moving in hysteria when he was busy with practice or some other thing that felt insignificant now that he thought about it, but he had brushed you off and told you that he will talk to you later about it. 
and then like the worst boyfriend in the world, he forgot all about it. in fact, he had gone and broken up with you before the team left for tokyo like the inconsiderate asshole he is.
if only he could recall where you told him your family was moving to. 
he taps into his call log, staring at the most recent entry dated last night. atsumu had gotten him drunk after yet another amazing win by the msby jackals, and like the lovesick fool he is, osamu had fucking dialed your number when he went to the bathroom. 
the call had gone through, each ring a steady succession after another, instead of the rapid beeps that signaled an out of service number. to his eternal horror, someone had picked up, his muddied brain registering the change when the ring tone he had been listening to stopped. that was enough to snap him out of his drunken daze and press the red button in a hurry.
but that piece of information did nothing to give him any answers. it could have been you, if you were still in japan and kept your old number. it could have been someone else who is using your number now. and he still didn’t know where you were. 
osamu groans, resting his head against the counter and closing his eyes briefly. it was late at night near closing time, and the person he was waiting for to show up at such an hour would be his horrible twin brother who was running late.
the ring from the doorbell has him perking his head up. finally. “i’ve been waiting ages for ya, ya scrub–” but the insults die in the back of his throat as he realizes it is not atsumu staring back at him with wide eyes.
the customer stands frozen in shock at his words, her form-fitting dress with intricate lace detailing, possibly tailor made, seemingly out of place at his casual establishment. her face is obscured by a mask, and osamu thinks that he may have frightened this poor lady, and is about to blurt out an apology when he meets her eyes. 
he would recognize that pair of eyes anywhere, he’s seen them in his dreams so many times he lost count since that fateful day in hyogo.
“y/n” he breathes.
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clawsdevour · 2 months
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keep your eyes on me
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wc: 0.5k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, cunnilingus, big back osamu, shitty writing, not proofread
ଓ ⁺˳‧₊
Laying down on the couch watching TV, turning your head towards the door when you see your husband Osamu arrive back home from work. It was a hot and humid day, his black fitted shirt clung to his chest and biceps begging to be ripped off. Looking at him, you lick your lips.
"Hey, welcome back" you greeted him from the comfort of your sofa. Osamu's taking off his cap to fix his hair, walking over to give a quick peck on your forehead.
"Hi babe, y’er watching TV?" He sits down at the end of the couch by your sprawled-out legs, catching a quick glimpse at the TV.
You lightly poked at his arm with your foot. Catching his attention, Osamu leans in to hover over you, planting a kiss on your lips.
"Did ya miss me while I was out slaving away, selling the most delicious onigiri in town?" Staring at you for an answer, you looked at him with a sulky expression.
"...More like I missed your lips," Osamu's a bit surprised and chuckled in disbelief. He's pulling his weight away from you, your legs around his waist.
"I'll kiss ya somewhere else.. and make y’e feel better" his warm hands slid up from behind your thighs. Your legs are gently placed on the top of Osamu's big shoulders as he lowers himself close to your intimate area, with a smug smile spreaded on his face.
"I'll give you one chance to show me how good your mouth is, or-" Letting out a huff, he's one step ahead of you. Osamu's tugging down your shorts, revealing your slightly damp underwear, throwing them off to the side. Letting out a shocked gasp, he places his fingers in between your clothed puffy walls.
Osamu pulls your panties to the slide, leaving him face to face with your bare and glistening cunt. His hot breath tickles your clit when he opened his mouth.
Eating you out, his hot tongue circles around your clit. You're sinking into the couch pushing his head down further. The moans you let out made him painfully hard. If he grinded it out on the couch he might end up cumming in his own pants. Osamu's watching your every expression twist while his tongue slides in and out of your drenched pussy.
You slide down so far on the couch, you end up staring at the ceiling as you feel all the sensitive sensations he's creating down there. You continue to moan and whimper. That was until Osamu stopped and pulled his mouth away from your overstimulated cunt. Narrowing his eyes at you when you use your last bits of energy to look at him. His mouth parts, about to say something.
"Look at me or I'll stop."
masterlist here
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