#Osamu miya comfort

[emmyrosee]

Give us 22 with our boy osamu 😭🌷

22 with osamu… comfort 🥺

Your nails dig into your palms as you stare, blankly, at the book in front of you. You haven’t absorbed a word in the past twelve minutes, and it’s a book you haven’t touched in months. You should feel invested.

But you don’t. And it’s killing you.

You’re not quite sure why, but the happy whistling coming from Osamu has a well of tears flooding to your waterline, the books words start melting together and your breathing picks up at his happy, “hey baby.”

When you ignore him, you feel his gaze bore into you. “Uhh… babe? You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You… positive?” He says, and you screw your eyes shut. “I don’t want to prod you, but you seem tense, and I don’t like it for you.”

“Im fine, Osamu,” you grit your teeth. The next thing you know, a cup of juice gets placed next to your book, and he’s next to you, a warm hand on your back as he rubs soothing circles and god, you don’t want to take this out on him. Not when he treats you so good, not when he cares so much about you.

Not when you can’t do anything right, and yet he’s right there to love you.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, and you screw your eyes shut and shake your head. “Please? Let me in.”

You take a deep breath in and can’t help the wobbling in your voice, “I can’t… even… read correctly.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t read correctly!” You repeat, this time in a sob as you throw yourself into osamu’s stomach, his head immediately cradling the back of your head. “I’ve been trying and trying for the past twelve minutes, and I’ve retained none of it! My back hurts and my eyes keep vibrating, and I can’t even read correctly, for the love of god!”

He shushed you softly as his thumb gingerly rubs over your head, letting you cry it out for a bit in his shirt. You feel his breath pattern even out as an attempt to encourage you to do the same. You finally are able to stop crying long enough to breath, and he clears his throat.

“Are you doing your best?” He asks.

“What?” You ask.

“Are you doing your best right now?”

He’s not talking about reading. His words are carefully crafted to not just be about reading, and you wail into his stomach again. You nod, and he clicks his tongue, “then that’s okay. It’s okay to feel frustrated right now. But you know how to read, baby. You know how to open a book and retain every word that’s printed- you know that.”

You nod against him, and he continues, “you’re doing your best right now, and that’s plenty. I’m proud of you for all you’re doing. It’s enough- I promise you.”

“I don’t feel like it is,” you sniffle. “I don’t feel like it is enough.”

“It’s plenty,” he repeats. “Dont sabotage yourself into thinking otherwise.”

“Okay,” you whimper. You pull back to flick your eyes up at him, “I want to stop reading, please.”

He chuckles and grabs your bookmark to slip into the page, “what do you want to do?”

“I want to stay here, and cry more.”

“I can do that,” he promises, fixing his stance to be firmer and he guides you to rest your head back on his stomach. “Anything, for you.”

“Thank you.”

“Any time, babe. You know that.”

[sexyandcringe]

Hopeless romantic

Part 1 ◇ Part 2

Warnings: none except mentions of readers past traumas, mention of sexual objectification.

Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt no comfort.

A/n: it's my first long-fic, please be nice :)

You're not used to being loved.

Your parents were always strict, hardly ever showing their affection, you didn't even have any close friends until you started working, where you found your best friend who showed you the blessings of a platonic love; but time passes and things happen, you had to move out of the town, leave your one true friend behind.

You are not used to love but especially romantic love, because all men did was see you as the object of their sexual desires, or maybe a good time-pass until a better one came along. Never as a person with feelings, never as a woman who loved them more than they loved her.

Sometimes you were too much, sometimes you weren't enough.

Too affectionate, too clingy, too dramatic, too loud. Not pretty enough, not smart enough, not horny enough. You tried and tried to be more, to be less, to be loved, but despite your efforts, love remained elusive, even with women.

So, after years of hoping and yearning, you resigned yourself to a loveless existence.

It is not to say that you never felt happy; even if you didn’t have love, you had fun and drama, you had friends to drink with (accompanied by the ting of pain the day after), you had a lot of books to read (leaving a bitter taste in your mouth whenever you finished one), you had dates and clothes and all the good and beautiful things in life and you've learned to appreciate these fragments of happiness.

But sometimes you get lonely.

You are used to it at this point, the crushing weight in your chest at 11 PM is your daily ritual before you finally give in to sleep.

So when you see Osamu Miya’s warm smile as he greets you in his restaurant, you battle to stop your stupid crazed heart, which is currently trying to jump out of your mouth.

You are just a client, his smile doesn’t mean anything, he is only doing his job, and you have seen him give the same smile to the old ladies who only order a coffee and linger to chatter for more than two hours, too. He’s a professional, after all. You are a regular and all he wants is your money, the bastard.

(you completely ignore the fact that he remembers details about you that no one bothers to remember; like the colour of your jewellery, the names of the dogs in your shelter or how your eyeliner is a little glittered today.)

Still, you are glad you got to know him. If anything, at least he is a good friend to you, always listening to what you have to say and filling your stomach with delicious food.

“ ‘Evening, Y/N. The usual?” He asks. You nod as you sit on the corner of the counter, the same seat you sat on the first day you came in.

(Osamu puts a “Reserved” sign on it every day until your arrival, not letting anyone else sit on it because it’s yours. But you don’t need to know that.)

You chatter with Tsumoto, the part-timer student who works in his shop, about his new crush, giving him advice you wouldn’t listen to nor follow from somebody else, and just as you are about to tell him that he should just write love letters to his crush, the doorbell rings; a pretty girl with dark long hair and the body of a goddess walks in, looking around for something, or better, for someone.

“‘Samuuu!” she calls him just as he comes out of the kitchen, and his face lights up, his arms envelop her figure and her lips meet his cheeks in an affectionate gesture.

… what?

“Emi! How are you, doll?” his voice holds tenderness as he guides the girl to one of the seats available, “Have a seat, I'll fix something up for you.”

She is a beautiful girl indeed, her hair flutters in the air like sea waves and her deep green eyes would make any man weak in his knees. She graces him with a smile, her flawless teeth gleaming.“A coffee is enough ‘Samu, I’m going to meet a friend soon.”

“Roger that!” he nods, signaling to Tsumoto for the order, before returning his attention to her.

He looks happy, you don’t think he has ever looked at you with this much fondness, and you’ve never witnessed any girl embrace him, let alone kiss his cheek. Hell, you didn’t even know if he had any female friends who were not his friends’s girlfriends.

(You feel your vision blur and something clenches in your chest. You swallow it down.)

You have no idea what they are talking about, you are not listening, all you can think about is how much you feel so so stupid. You didn’t hope for anything, you tried not to hope for anything at all, but feelings are hard to get rid of, especially if you see the one causing these feelings every week.

You look at them talking like best friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time and the feeling of inadequacy gnaws at you. You wonder if you ever even stood a chance to begin with. You yearned to be someone close to Osamu, someone who could give him hugs and kisses easily, someone who knew everything about him; you yearned to be part of his inner circle, but now you feel utterly stupid and delusional. Of course, he would never see you in that light, his affection is reserved only for a pretty girl like her. Of course he wouldn’t even think about getting physical with you. What were you even thinking?

Of course, you can’t be part of his world.

Reblogs are really appreciated! - Part 2

[sugawarassoccerlover]

“Let your pain out. Just let it all out, okay? You’re allowed to cry. Even if it means taking your time. I'm not in any rush, sweetheart, and you shouldn’t rush yourself either. It’s okay to not be strong for now. Don’t force yourself to be strong. I’ve got you. I know you're struggling. I know you're tired... I know you're exhausted. Just rest, sweetheart. In my arms, I'll catch you when you fall. I won't let you hit the ground”

Koshi Sugawara, Osamu Miya, Kita Shinsuke, Daichi Sawamura, Takashi Mitsuya, Suehiro Tecchou, Sanji Vinsmoke, Kyojuro Rengoku, Kazuha Kaedahara, Kaeya, Satan

[sweetlyvibe]

𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡

PAIRING : Osamu Miya x F!Reader ,

GENRE : angst/comfort

WC: 2.5k

SUMMARY : Osamu Miya always felt second to his brother, Atsumu, especially in love. But when you confess your feelings to Osamu, he’s shocked—especially when he discovers Atsumu likes you too.

CONTENT/WARNINGS : Insecurity, love triangle, jealousy, emotional conflict, unrequited love, use of y/n, Imk if i missed anything!

Osamu Miya wasn’t one to get hung up on things. Life was simple for him—school, volleyball, helping at the family restaurant. He wasn’t chasing after big dreams like his twin brother, Atsumu, who wanted to be the best setter in Japan. No, Osamu was content with keeping things balanced. It was probably why everyone gravitated toward Atsumu more than him, and he was fine with that. At least, he used to be.

But it started to sting a little when it came to you.

Every time he saw you laughing at one of Atsumu’s jokes, or worse, when he caught his brother bragging about how you looked at him during practice, it was like a knot in his stomach that wouldn’t loosen. Osamu knew Atsumu had charm, that magnetic pull that brought people in effortlessly. Atsumu would get confessions left and right, girls practically fawning over him, while Osamu stayed on the sidelines. Not that it bothered him most of the time—those girls didn’t even bother to learn the difference between the two.

But you weren’t like most girls. That’s what made it harder for him. And maybe that’s why Osamu was convinced you’d never look at him the way you looked at Atsumu.

Because who would?

Osamu couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he realized he liked you more than he wanted to admit. It was probably one of those quiet moments after practice, when you smiled at him like he was the only one in the room. But then, without fail, Atsumu would butt in with his usual confidence, and you’d shift your attention back to his brother. Osamu would shrug it off, pretending like it didn’t matter, like he didn’t notice the way Atsumu’s eyes lit up whenever he saw you.

As much as it bothered him, Osamu didn’t hate his brother for it. Atsumu was his twin, after all. They didn’t talk much about feelings, but Osamu could tell that Atsumu liked you too. That should’ve been enough to stop him from getting his hopes up. Atsumu was always the one people chose—why would this time be any different?

Osamu tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter. He was fine just being your friend, having quiet conversations with you when Atsumu wasn’t around to steal the spotlight. But the more he thought about it, the more it felt like he was stuck in his brother’s shadow, unable to step out and tell you how he really felt.

He wasn’t flashy like Atsumu. He didn’t have the same loud confidence, the same need to be seen by everyone. And maybe that’s why he believed he didn’t stand a chance with you. You were friendly with him, sure, but so was everyone else. To Osamu, he was just the other Miya twin—the quieter one, the one you probably didn’t see in the same way.

The day everything turned upside down started off like any other. It was a slow morning after practice, and Osamu was heading to the lockers to grab his things. His mind was still on the game—what they could’ve done better, how Atsumu had nagged at him for missing a spike, the usual banter. He didn’t even notice the small piece of paper sticking out of his locker until he was pulling out his shoes.

At first, Osamu thought it was some leftover flyer from the school festival or something, but when he opened it, his stomach dropped.

It was a letter.

A love letter.

Osamu stared at it, his mind struggling to catch up. The neat handwriting spelled out his name, and a few lines below, a simple but direct confession. His heart started beating faster than he wanted to admit, and for a second, he wondered if this was some kind of joke. Him? Getting a love letter?

But then, he saw the name at the bottom.

Your name.

Osamu blinked, rereading it, making sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But there it was, in your handwriting, as clear as day. You liked him?

He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to think. All this time, Osamu had convinced himself that you were like everyone else, that you probably had a crush on Atsumu like most people did. But this letter—it was real. You liked him, not his brother. It was like the ground had shifted beneath him, leaving him standing on unsteady footing.

A part of Osamu felt guilty. He knew Atsumu liked you—he could see it in the way his brother tried to impress you, how he talked about you after practice like you were someone special. And here Osamu was, holding the proof that you liked him instead.

Later that day, when Osamu saw you, his heart did this strange thing, like it couldn’t decide whether to race or stop entirely. You didn’t seem different, didn’t act any different. You were just you, smiling at him like you always did when you passed by.

Osamu thought about how easy it would be to just pretend he never saw the letter. Maybe it would be better for everyone. He could ignore it, let you and Atsumu have a shot at each other. Atsumu was better at this sort of thing—more confident, more open. He wouldn’t hesitate like Osamu was doing now. Maybe it was selfish for Osamu to think he deserved your attention.

But then he remembered the way your handwriting had spelled out his name, how you’d written that you liked him, not Atsumu. And that was enough to push him to act.

Osamu found himself waiting for you after class. His nerves twisted in his stomach the whole time, but when you finally came out, you looked surprised to see him standing there.

“Hey,” Osamu said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Can we talk for a second?”

You raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Sure, what’s up?”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the folded letter. “I found this… in my locker.”

Your eyes widened when you saw the letter, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. Osamu couldn’t read your expression, and he didn’t know what to expect. Did you regret it? Was it a joke? Had you written it by mistake?

“I… I didn’t know if I should bring it up,” Osamu admitted, unsure of how to navigate the situation. “But… is it real? Like, do you really…?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down, nodding. “Yeah, it’s real. I wasn’t sure if you’d see it, or if you’d even want to talk about it, but… yeah.”

Osamu’s heart was pounding. This was real. You really liked him. After all the doubts, after convincing himself that you were just like everyone else, you had chosen him.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think you’d feel that way about me.”

You smiled, a small, gentle smile that made Osamu’s heart race all over again. “Why wouldn’t I? I like you because you’re you, Osamu. You’re thoughtful, calm, and funny in a way that doesn’t need attention. You don’t try to be anyone else. I like that. I like you.”

Osamu could hardly believe what he was hearing. The words didn’t feel real, like they belonged in someone else’s life. Yet here you were, standing in front of him, looking at him with eyes that said you meant every word.

“I like you too,” Osamu finally managed to say, the words clumsy but honest. “I just didn’t think I had a chance.”

You stepped a little closer, your voice soft but clear. “Well, now you know. You do.”

The next few days passed in a blur, Osamu floating through them with a mixture of disbelief and happiness. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, about the fact that you had chosen him. For the first time, he didn’t feel like he was just the other Miya twin. He was someone you saw, someone you liked.

But there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Atsumu. He hadn’t told him yet, and he wasn’t sure how to. Osamu knew his brother better than anyone. He knew that Atsumu didn’t take rejection well, especially when it came to something he cared about. And even though you hadn’t outright rejected Atsumu, Osamu knew that his brother liked you. A lot.

The storm was coming, and Osamu couldn’t avoid it forever.

It came sooner than he expected. A few days later, after practice, Atsumu cornered him in the locker room, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

“Oi, Osamu,” Atsumu called out, leaning against the lockers. “Guess what? I think Y/N’s about to confess to me.”

Osamu froze, pretending to busy himself with his things. “Oh yeah?” he muttered, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah,” Atsumu went on, oblivious to the tension building. “She’s been hangin’ around me a lot more lately. It’s only a matter of time, I can feel it.”

Osamu’s stomach twisted. He knew this moment was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Atsumu continued talking, his voice filled with excitement. “I’ve been waitin’ for this. I think she’s finally gonna make a move.”

Osamu clenched his fists, his heart pounding. He couldn’t avoid it any longer. “Atsumu… about that.”

Atsumu frowned, his smirk faltering as he noticed the serious tone in Osamu’s voice. “What? You jealous or somethin’?”

Osamu shook his head. “No. It’s just… she already confessed.”

Atsumu blinked in confusion. “She already confessed to me?”

“No,” Osamu said quietly, feeling the weight of his words. “She confessed to me.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Atsumu stared at him, processing what Osamu had just said. Then his confusion shifted into disbelief, followed by a slow dawning of understanding.

“Wait… what?” Atsumu’s voice was quieter now, almost cautious. “You’re tellin’ me… she chose you?”

Osamu nodded, his chest tightening. He didn’t want to hurt his brother, but there was no way around it. “Yeah. She left a letter in my locker. She told me she likes me.”

Atsumu’s face was unreadable for a few seconds, the smirk completely gone now. The playful, teasing edge that usually colored his voice was nowhere to be found.

“So, she… likes you?” Atsumu asked again, his tone flat, like he was still trying to wrap his head around it.

Osamu felt a surge of guilt. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I didn’t plan this, Atsumu. I didn’t think she’d—”

“It’s fine,” Atsumu cut him off, his voice sharp. “You don’t need to explain.”

The air between them grew tense, and Osamu could see the hurt flicker across Atsumu’s face, even though his brother was doing his best to hide it. Atsumu had never been good at dealing with rejection—he thrived on being wanted, on being the center of attention. And now, for the first time, someone had chosen Osamu over him.

Atsumu let out a bitter laugh, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, ain’t that somethin’. Guess I’m not as irresistible as I thought.”

Osamu winced at the sarcastic tone, wishing there was a way to make this easier. He knew Atsumu’s pride was bruised, and no amount of explanation would change that.

“Look, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Osamu started, but Atsumu held up a hand, cutting him off again.

“It’s fine, Osamu,” Atsumu repeated, though his voice was tight with frustration. “You don’t have to explain.”

The silence that followed was heavy, both brothers unsure of what to say next. Atsumu ran a hand through his hair, glancing away as if trying to process everything.

“Guess you finally one-upped me, huh?” Atsumu said with a forced smirk, though the bitterness in his voice was hard to miss.

Osamu wanted to say something, anything to make this less painful, but before he could, Atsumu turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Don’t worry about it, ‘Samu. I’ll be fine.”

And with that, Atsumu walked out of the locker room, leaving Osamu standing there alone, a mix of relief and guilt swirling in his chest.

The days after that conversation were strange. Atsumu wasn’t the type to stay upset for long, and soon enough, he was back to his usual self, at least on the surface. He still joked around, still bragged and teased, but there was something different in the way he interacted with Osamu. It wasn’t obvious to most people, but Osamu could tell. There was a slight distance between them, an unspoken tension that neither of them wanted to address directly.

But despite the guilt Osamu felt, there was something else too—something warm and undeniable that came from knowing you had chosen him. Whenever he saw you, his heart would race in that unfamiliar, but welcome way. You were still you, kind and thoughtful, treating him the same way you always had, but now there was something more between the two of you. Something real.

Osamu still wasn’t used to it, the idea that you liked him, but he was trying to get there. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be the one in this position—that Atsumu was supposed to be the one who got your attention, not him. But every time you smiled at him or laughed at one of his dry comments, those insecurities faded a little more.

One afternoon, a few weeks after the confession, Osamu found himself sitting next to you outside the school, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the courtyard. You were talking about something—Osamu wasn’t really paying attention, his mind too busy replaying everything that had happened over the past few weeks.

“Osamu?” you said, nudging him gently. “You’re spacing out.”

He blinked, realizing he hadn’t been listening. “Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just thinkin’.”

You tilted your head, giving him a curious look. “About what?”

Osamu hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should bring it up. But something about the way you were looking at him made him feel like he could be honest. “I still don’t get why you chose me,” he admitted quietly. “I just… I didn’t think I was the type of guy someone would go for. Especially when Atsumu’s right there.”

You frowned slightly, shifting closer to him. “Osamu, I already told you. I chose you because you’re you. Atsumu’s great, but… he’s not you.”

Osamu looked at you, a mixture of surprise and warmth filling his chest. He’d heard you say it before, but each time, it felt like he was hearing it for the first time.

You reached out, gently resting your hand on his. “You don’t have to compare yourself to him. I don’t. I like you for who you are, Osamu. And nothing’s going to change that.”

For the first time in a long while, Osamu felt like he didn’t have to live in his brother’s shadow. You saw him, just as he was, and that was enough.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked at you. “Thanks,” he said softly. “That… means a lot.”

You smiled back, squeezing his hand gently. “Anytime.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Osamu Miya felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

. 🏐 〃 ⋯ TAGGING : : @0samuslove @yoghurtsan @lxdymoon0357 @achy-boo

[admiringlove]

[13:21] . . .

out of nowhere, one summer afternoon, your best friend asks you a question you never thought he would.

“you still got a thing for me?”

you raise your eyebrows, eyes poring off the book you were reading as you laid on your stomach in bed. your legs, blissfully held up in your knees find their way back to the bed, as you watch him. he’s playing with some trinket he found on your windowsill; an old figurine you loved to collect back in highschool. he’s not looking at you—he won’t look at you, and you know it.

the summer air hadn’t bothered you until now. now, it just felt too hot and too stuffy and too humid in your room. the bedsheets with cherries printed on them felt too childish and you felt as if you were being transported back to the times in highschool when you trailed after him like a lost puppy even though you were his best friend and his partner in crime after his twin brother.

“osamu, you knew?” for the first time, you call him by his name. not “‘samu”, or “bear” or any cheeky nicknames you’d given him. just plain old osamu. you had half the mind to fuck with him and call him “miya” but you think it’d take it too far.

that’s when he looks at you. he’s laying on your bed too, with his back against the fluffy pillows you like. you’re laying half-way down the bed, whereas he’s on your right, a little above you. the window above his head is open, and a small breeze flitters its way inside, the linen curtains swaying above his head as you watch him. your glasses perched on top of your nose as you scrutinize him. you’re judging him—or at least that’s what he thinks you’re doing because you never ever call him by just his name.

“i had an idea, i think,” he says, looking back at the figurine in his hand. it was some video-game character, he reckons. you and atsumu used to fight to play it in the arcade with your pocket money for the week. and then osamu had to buy all three of you meat buns because you’d run out of money at the arcade.

“right,” you say, a bitter and avoidant tone lacing your words as you look back at your book. he can’t tell what you’re thinking, and you can’t tell what he wants.

had he always been like this? were you too much in love with him to notice that he knew all along and didn’t bother to say anything?

“you didn’t answer my question,” he says. and it makes you wonder how much audacity he has running through his veins. you make a face, as if you’d smelled something pungent. your lips scrunched and your eyebrows knotted as you try to think how to respond, “i don’t want to.”

“why not?” he asks, perching himself up onto his elbow. you look back up from your book, and the sunlight that falls on his face and highlights his freckles makes you almost swoon. you catch yourself though. “because i don’t want to, miya.”

a deep physical pain festers itself in his chest when he hears you say his last name with gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. he blinks, sitting up, the figurine still in his hand as he rubs its face as hard as he can with his thumb to ground himself. “but i want to know.”

“and i don’t want to fucking tell you,” you quip, sparing him nothing but a dirty glance. he sucks in a sharp breath, watching you. had he distanced himself from you so much that being near him hurt you too? but he’d only been busy. in the last year of highschool, there was some obvious tension in between you, him and atsumu because of osamu’s decision to not pursue volleyball. you’d been crushed in between two men with big egos and big dreams, and you’d somehow managed to stay neutral. and then college happened. everyone moved to different places. osamu and you to tokyo. atsumu to okinawa for camp. then osamu got busy with his multiple part-time jobs and certification prep for his restaurant. he’d exchange five to ten minute phone calls with you once a week. but in the last six months, he hadn’t managed to do that either.

so he’d thought, at least it was summer now. he’d have more time to slow down and look around him.

“why not?” he asks, voice shaky and intuitive. he wants to read you again. he wants you to be his abditory again. he wants you back in his life the way it used to be before tokyo. he remembers the feeling still—you and him, standing in his kitchen in hyogo, as you try something he’d cooked. you’d always have that excited look in your eyes. and he’d always assumed you’d continue to have it till the end of time. maybe he was wrong.

“because it wasn’t a stupid fucking crush, ‘samu,” you laugh, but it’s not funny, “i was in love with you and you never noticed. as simple as that.”

“i said i had an idea,” he furrows his brows. it’s like you didn’t want his company anymore. did you not like being around him? what was the problem? he had taken notice, he just hadn’t taken any action. he reckons he wasn’t ready.

or was he just scared? he doesn’t know. but he watches as you turn your attention back to the book, and he feels a crack form under the two of you. as if you were slowly slipping away, and he couldn’t do anything about it. he scoffs slightly, prying the book away from you and placing it somewhere on the bed haphazardly as you protest. “osamu, seriously, stop being such a dick!”

“i’m talkin’ to you,” he says, sitting up straight. he rubs his thumb against the figurine’s face feeling its nose against the pad of his finger. he presses down hard, wanting to feel something. he hopes you’d notice how nervous he is.

“and i don’t want to talk to you because you’re a selfish prick,” you say, taking off your glasses and running a hand through your hair. you’re looking up at him with an emotional he can’t quite place, but he thinks it aligns somewhere with disgust. it makes him sick.

it’s not like he never noticed. he knew that the way you clung to him when you were younger had to be more than platonic. you’d stare at him with big eyes, blinking as if he hung the world together by strings and stars—and he’d feel that flutter in his stomach as if he were a child.

you’re both sitting in an awkward silence, the tension thickening the air like the humidity outside. osamu looks down at the figurine, its face now marred by the rough treatment. he feels like it’s a metaphor for you and him—something once cherished, now tarnished by neglect and misunderstanding.

“do you remember that summer festival in hyogo?” you suddenly ask, breaking the silence. the question catches him off guard, and he looks up, momentarily surprised that you’re shifting the conversation back to a happier time. but it’s a welcome distraction, he thinks.

“which year?” he replies, leaning back slightly, curiosity flickering across his face.

“the one where you tried to eat all the dango, but ended up just staring at the fireworks with half a stick in your mouth,” you chuckle, and it’s a sound he’s missed. the soft melody of your laughter contrasts sharply with the heaviness that has settled between you.

osamu feels warmth creep into his cheeks at the memory. he remembers the way the sky lit up, vibrant colors bursting in the night, mirroring the excitement in his chest as he watched you watch the fireworks. you had looked so beautiful, illuminated by the kaleidoscope of colors, your eyes sparkling with wonder. he had been so caught up in how pretty you looked, he forgot to chew. perhaps that was some kind of infatuation that he just didn't understand at the time. maybe if he simply had-

he shakes his head at the thought. there's no use thinking of what could've been.

“yeah, and ya made fun of me the entire time,” he smiles, trying hard to lighten the mood and to forget his current train of thought.

“because you looked ridiculous!” you tease, but there’s a hint of painful nostalgia in your voice. “you had this concentrated look like you were on a mission. i couldn’t stop laughing.”

he chuckles softly, but the sound feels hollow. “you were just jealous i because I could eat my weight in dango.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now, and he takes that as a small victory. “i don’t think i ever ate that much. but-” your voice trails off, and he can see a shadow passing over your face. “it was nice, wasn’t it? being young and… oblivious?”

“yeah, it was,” he admits, a hint of melancholy creeping into his tone. “we had so much fun back then. it feels like we were invincible.”

and it did. back then, when he'd drag you out to try random foods at stalls or simply to go on a walk. it felt as if he could do it forever. have you by his side as his constant in this ever-changing world of his—where his brother was a professional volleyball player and he would simply be a restaurant owner someday.

“were we?” you asked, voice incredulous as you tilted your head, “the whole time, it kinda felt like you were the invincible one and i was just there. it’s like how you feel with atsumu.”

this makes osamu pause. had you really felt that way all this time? inferior? the thought lodged itself deep in his chest, a heavy weight he couldn’t shake off. he had never meant for you to feel that way. in his eyes, you had always been the spark—the one who brought color to his world when everything else felt gray and predictable.

“i never thought that, you know?” he finally says, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “i thought- i thought you were always the brave one. always ready to dive into new things, while i was just there. playing it safe.”

your brow furrows as you process his words. “brave? me? i was just following you around, trying to keep up,” you reply, a hint of bitterness creeping into your tone.

“but you did keep up. you were always right there beside me,” osamu insists, his gaze searching yours, desperate for you to understand. “you made everything more fun. without you, i’d just be-” he hesitates, the reality of his words hanging in the air, “i’d just be some guy in a kitchen, flipping meat buns and rice balls.”

“but that’s what you want, isn’t it?" you challenge, a fire igniting in your eyes.

“it is,” he admits, his heart racing as he watches you, “but it’s not the only thing i want.” he swallows hard, unsure if he should say more, if he should reveal the way you had always been a part of that dream, a silent partner in the chaos of his life.

the silence stretches between you, charged with unspoken words and tangled emotions. osamu feels a wave of uncertainty crash over him. the weight of his thoughts, his feelings, it all feels too heavy to carry alone. “sometimes, i wish i could go back,” he confesses, “to the way things were before everything got complicated.”

a small flash of a memory passes by in front of his eyelids. just for a split second, he sees a younger version of himself chasing fireflies alongside you in his backyard. jumping up to the first branches of the apple tree his grandfather had planted, the two of you miserably failing. the thought makes his lip curve upward.

“complicated? bear, we’re not kids anymore. we can’t just go back.” your voice is firm, but there’s a softness in your eyes that he can’t ignore.

“i know,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “but sometimes it feels like... like i’m losing you in all this.” he gestures around, to the walls that had once held laughter and secrets but now felt like a cage.

“losing me?” you echo, your expression shifting to something more vulnerable. “do you even know how many times i’ve sat here wondering if you even wanted me around anymore? it’s like you’ve been drifting away, and i- i don’t want to be just a memory for you.”

the truth of your words hits him like a cold splash of water, and he’s left grappling with the realization that he has indeed let the distance grow between you. osamu feels his heart ache, the weight of regret settling over him like a heavy fog.

“i never meant to push you away. life just... got in the way. and with 'tsumu doing so well, it’s hard not to compare myself.” he pauses, the vulnerability of admitting that laying bare the fragility of his ego. “i thought if i focused on my dreams, i wouldn’t lose you in the process.”

“but that’s just it,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “you’re so focused on what’s ahead that you forgot to look around and see what you have right now.”

osamu feels the sting of your words, a deep ache forming in his chest. “i don’t want to lose you,” he says finally, the honesty hanging heavy in the air. “but i don’t know how to fix this.”

he feels an estranged sensation pool at the pit of his stomach. it’s an unsettling mix of longing and disillusionment, a swirling tornado of emotions that seems to siphon away the warmth he had once felt in your presence. he remembers a time when everything between you had been easy—like a favorite song playing in the background, its melody effortlessly weaving through the fabric of his days. his relationship with you was always like a distant childhood memory; as if he were sitting on his bed whilst rain poured outside and laughter could be heard in the next room.

he can’t help but feel like he’s caught in a dream that has turned surreal, where the colors have faded, and the edges of reality blur into something unrecognizable. the laughter that had once come so easily now feels like a ghost haunting the hallways of his memory, a faint echo that reminds him of what he’s lost.

"maybe it's not about fixing it," you say, sitting up. he blinks a few times, as you push up your glasses. his eyes focus on your frame—the way you criss-cross your legs and look at him with that expression he could never pinpoint properly. something like how an older mentor figure would in disappointment, but with a hint of hope. "maybe, it's simply about trying."

and maybe, just maybe, he wasn't trying hard enough. maybe he wasn't trying at all.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[fluffyf0x]

Miya twins with little sister!reader

There was never a boring day with your two older brothers around. They found new ways to cause trouble, new reasons to fight, new possibilities to have fun.

The way you started playing volleyball because of them. The way you love your big brother, Osamu's onigiris. The way you went home every valentine's helping them bring home large amounts of gifts and letters from their fangirls. The way you watched them in every game they competed in the nationals. The way the three of you huddled together, watching a movie after your first breakup. The way you felt so at home, so at ease with them.

But now it's gone....all gone

Osamu and Atsumu were still close, even after Atsumu left to play for MSBY, even after Osamu chose to stop playing volleyball and decided to open up his own restaurant.

But you? You felt so detached from them.

Atsumu moving left you in pieces. Osamu who stopped playing volleyball messed up your system. You, who sat alone in your classroom, knowing that you won't be going home with the twins after class or after practice. You, who didn't really watch Inarazaki's matches as the twins wouldn't be seen on court. They were such light things. But it was such a big deal for you. Everything changed. Everything is changing. It scared you. It scared you so so much.

"Stop being so hung up on what happened y/n"

Osamu's voice snapped you out of your train of thought. Tears were welling up at your eyes and you couldn't stop it.

"'Tsumu is still alive, somewhere in Japan, I'm still here. We'll still be your brothers no matter what."

You looked down, your eyes trailing at the plate of onigiri Osamu made for you. Osamu smiled.

"Eat, and stop being a whiny baby, mom's gonna get worried again."

Right, the world's not ending. They'll still be here, they'll still be your brothers.

You noticed Osamu answer a call, and he put it on speaker.

"SAMUUUUUUUU, WHERE'S Y/N"

"SHUT THE HELL UP SHE'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME"

You laughed. Right, still your brothers.

<3

[kemistre]

εïз┊𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 — feat. bokuto koutarou, suna rintarou, oikawa tooru, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurou

synopsis. how haikyuu boys comfort you when you've had a bad day

— content warnings. none! just comfy stuff <3 — word count. 670

εïз┊author's note. here's this inspired by the awful birthday i had today!!!

εïз┊b. koutarou

his excited grin turned into a concerned frown as you walked through the door with teary eyes. he mumbled your name, his furrowed brows and small voice crack showed how much it hurt him to see you this way. with daunting steps, he hugged you tight, pulling you into his chest while whispering little words of comfort into your ear. his callous hands rubbing circles into your back made you sink into him, huggin him back even tighter as he spoke. "hug me as tight as you need baby." he calmed you down, little by little until you told him what happened for you to be so, so upset.

εïз┊s. rintatou

he heard the front door shut forcefully as he laid on the couch, his phone in his hands. he paused, hearing your quiet footsteps coming towards him as he glanced up from his phone to see you with watery eyes and a scowl on your lips. he set his phone on his chest, slowly raising himself up so he leaned his back on the arm of the couch. he stretched out his arms, motioning for you to come over and without a second thought, you nuzzled into his chest and hugged him close. he smoothed back your hair as you sobbed into him, placing a delicate kiss on your head as his other hand snaked around your lower back. "just let it all out, don't hold anything back, okay baby?"

εïз┊o. tooru

it wasn't soon after you'd gotten home that he realized you weren't yourself. it didn't take him long at all to figure those kinds of things out. so, he approached you in the kitchen where you'd set down your things, opening his arms with those kind, understanding eyes, his lips curling into a sad smile. you let yourself fall into him, the tears finally streaming down your cheeks from the day of holding them in. you held his jacket for support as he swayed, humming a little tune as to calm your racing thoughts. "you're doing so amazing, angel, i'm so proud of you for getting through the day."

εïз┊m. osamu

he never thought of leaving your side as you sat on the couch, you head in your hands. he rubbed circles into your back, hoping to calm you down without knowing what caused your breakdown. you sobbed into your hands, fear of speaking and making yourself cry more. you felt him get up from the couch, his hand smoothing back your hair as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "ya don't have ta say anythin' darlin', but let me try ta cheer ya up, yeah?" he took your hands from your face, pulling you up from the couch slowly as his worried frown soon turned into a kind smile. he took your hand in his, leading you to the kitchen where he turned on some soft and relaxing music, showing you how he always made your favorite meal.

εïз┊k. tetsurou

he stared at your quivering lips, your teeth biting your bottom lip as you walked into your shared bedroom. he sat in bed, reading a book on chemistry as he'd done every night before bed for months. he sighed, giving you a sad smile before getting up from where he sat, holding your cheeks in his hands. his hands slid down to your own, slowly leading you to the bed where he pulled up the covers, letting you plop onto the bed as you stared up at him with doey eyes. before you knew it, he had helped you into your pajamas and gotten you ready for bed and getting back to his spot. he pulled the blankets over the two of you, wrapping his arms around you and lightly resting his cheek on your head, every so often placing a simple kiss upon your head. he hugged you tighter the more you cried, and he was willing to wait as long as you needed to be able to talk to him. "i'm here for you every step of the way, my love."

taglist :: there's none at the moment but just send me a message to my inbox if you wanna be tagged :3

[areioshq]

Osamu to bless your 2024 🤍🍙🤍

[aboutkiyoomi]

onigiri cravings | prelude

"i'm really craving onigiri." was your most common saying during the calmer years of nursing school. your soft-spoken boyfriend was always the first to offer up the idea of going to onigiri miya for dinner, well, whenever he was home or free to offer up any ideas.

life for you had been fairly simple, you lived in tokyo for majority of your life and graduated high school with amazing marks. once you left high school, you had immediate plans to get your bachelor's in science and nursing. something about interacting with patient's every day and maybe even brightening their days or just making them feel better, sounded like a perfect career for you. during uni, you met a young man, who happened to be a mutual friend of a mutual friend. things kicked off and you had been with him for pushing 3 years now.

the relationship has been and is great? your boyfriend, akaashi keiji, was a sweetheart and the most sensitive soul known to man. he was kind and gentle, everything you needed in a boyfriend. akaashi was textbook perfect but, lately he's been a bit flooded with his studies. as he aspires to be a doctor, he has a significantly larger workload than you and is rarely home and when he is, the two of you barely interacted.

fleeting touches and short murmurs of adoration. you began to feel neglected but you didn't want to desert him, in possibly the most difficult stage of his life. as much as akaashi cares for you, his lack off attention and focus was really displeasing for you.

however, as you closed in on the last couple months of nursing school, you decided to get a job at onigiri miya. your favorite restaurant in possibly all of japan. as you came to a close on your final years of schooling, you thought it might be great to use this job as an opportunity to steal recipes from the fated brand and to save some money for student loans and other unforgiving adult debts while you looked for your quote en quote 'big girl job' .

"hey keiji, i'm off to work." you mumbled, peeking your head into the "office" space, the two of you designated when you moved into your small apartment.

"mm." was the short, quiet response you recieved as akaashi rubbed his temple, eyes burned through his study book.

eyes rolled slightly, you grabbed your bag and rushed out of the door. you were very prideful in your time management skills, so although you weren't late, you hoped to arrive to onigiri miya with ample time to settle in and prepare for your very first shift, albeit training.

onigiri miya was nothing but a mere 15 minute walk from your quaint downtown apartment. the walk was refreshing, the cool january air brushing against your face, tickling your nose a bit. the buzzing and bustling of downtown tokyo, quietly muting as you stood in front of the bright red lights of onigiri miya. in all it's silent glory.

you prepped a shallow breath before pushing the doors into the warm atmosphere, filled with savory scents that made you feel cozy, in a way that you typically only get from a quiet winter night, snuggled into your bed.

as you walked deeper into the store, you were greeted by the hiring manager. a short girl with cute blonde hair, a bright smile adorned on her face. she showed you the break room and the locker where you could place your belongings before bringing you to the back of the store, where a tall man with silver hair, that could almost be mistaken for an elderly gray.

"this is suga, he'll be training you and giving you a tour of the store. if you have any questions, you can ask him or me. good luck, y/n!!" the hiring manager, yachi, shot you a thumbs up before waltzing away to her office.

"i'm sugawara kōshi, most people call me suga." he smiles, his hand extending warmly.

"nice to meet you suga, i'm y/n. soo, how long have you been working here?" you asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"almost 2 and a half years? i'm working on my doctorate in elementary education and childhood development. so, as i contemplate my life trying to write my thesis, i've ended up working here." he began, leaning against the counter before continuing. you chuckled slightly at the dry humor and also because you were thoroughly impressed with his educational background. "enough about me, i'll be giving you the grand tour and teach you a bit about the place. let me know if i'm going too fast or if you need help." his smile gentle and warm.

"sounds great. also, props to you for going back for your doctorate. i'm about to graduate nursing school and i don't think i could ever imagine going back." you chuckled dryly, head shaking slightly because school truly felt endless. especially as a nursing major.

"a NURSEE?? and you decided to work here?" suga raised his eyebrow, waving you into the kitchen.

"well, i love the resturant. a little too much andd i needed a side job while i look for my first big nursing job." you answered, unashamedly as you glance around the large, almost empty kitchen.

"well, props to you. this is the kitchen, we really don't do much back here. but here." he motions toward the window that separated the kitchen from the lobby of the resturant. "is more important, ya know, we receive the food and double check orders." he explains before moving forward through the doors to the lobby.

"the lobby, i'm sure you're familiar with it. all i really have to teach you is to make teas and drinks and take orders but thank everything that samu' got us an easy pos system." he briefs as he taps the ipad and enters it into training mode.

"samu? is he one of our coworkers? actually...do we have any other coworkers?" you ask, glancing at the empty store.

"we do. samu' however is the owner, he pops up sporadically. usually just to pick something up or explain a new promotion. he's really cool, we're good friends. we also have some coworkers that aren't here today because it's a calm day, not super busy. i'm sure you'll meet hajime and semi, super soon." he rambles, leaning against the counter with his head thrown back. you nod, silently taking in all the information.

suga takes it upon himself to begin explaining and training you on the pos system, which was impossibly easy for someone who had to learn to insert iv's for months at a time. then he explained how to make the signature drinks and just small details about the store that he felt were important.

"you're a natural." suga giggles as you make a perfect 'hyogo nights', a signature drink of onigiri miya.

"i worked at a cafe back in high school. i've got experience under my belt." you giggle softly before passing the drink off to a customer.

"so, tell me about yourself y/n!! if you're comfortable of course, it just gets really boring in here and usually, we all kinda just chat it out until our shifts are up." he chuckles softly before sitting on the crates placed in the hidden corner behind the register.

"well, i'm pretty boring. i'm a tokyo native, lived here my entire life. been dreaming of being a nurse since my second year in high school. i have a boyfriend, we've been together for about 3 years now. i want to work as a pediatric er nurse, to be specific and yeah. that's the basic y/n breakdown." y/n smiles softly, sat on the crate opposite of suga.

"wow, i grew up in miyagi, so definitely not a city boy. i've been here for 5 years now?? i graduated and immediately enrolled in utokyo and have been there since. 3 years of a relationship is insanee, i need tips because i cannot keep a man if i tried." suga laughs hard.

"pleasee, it's not easy but he makes it easy. he's been told he's a 'perfect boyfriend' time and time again." you laughed softly, your eyes crinkling slightly as you thought about keiji's recent behavior.

"i can imagine! a pretty and smart woman like you could definitely bag one of the romantics. i'm sure he's a catch as well." suga speaks casually, sipping on a tea he's made for himself.

"well, he's in med school so, pretty smart and equally as handsome." you spoke, smile genuine and soft as you think of the first year of your relationship.

the conversation continues and flows naturally, topics jumping from education to living in the city, all the way to your coworkers that you have yet to meet. hajime iwaizumi, who is typically called iwa by suga, is a burly man who is studying to be a physical therapist, which you admired. pt is such an underrated health care field ! semi eita, is your other coworker, lanky and humorous, according to suga. semi is working here while he decides what he wants to do with his composition major. yachi, the hiring manager that you met, has been working here since the opening of the dt tokyo location 6 years ago. she also designed the uniforms, a side hobby of hers. and osamu miya, the owner of the restaurant. suga claims that he is less of a boss and more of an annoying friend who comes to nag at him and that you get really used to him, even though he looks a bit intimidating from a "boss" perspective.

before the two of you could realize, all of the closing tasks were completed and the store was ready to be closed. suga paused as the two of you stood outside, ready to lock the store, it's bright red lights dimmed.

"is your boyfriend going to come get you? should i wait?" suga assumes, hiking his bag further up his shoulder.

"no, he's...busy. i'm just going to walk, i don't live far." you speak, eyes shut to think about the text you recieved from keiji.

"hope you had a great work day, i know you wanted me to pick you up but the study group decided to do a last minute session for our exam in the morning. i'm sorry, love. i'll make it up to you?"

with a sigh, you realize that suga has been saying something to you but you were far gone into your thoughts to realize.

"i'll walk you, if you don't mind. i can't, in good conscience, allow you to walk alone at this time of night. it's wrong." he smiled genuinely and softly.

"trust me, suga. i appreciate it but i'll be okay. i'll let you know that i get in safe though!" you smiled appreciatively, before waving goodbyes with promises to let him know you arrived safely.

as you walked, the cold january air feeling bitter against your skin, unlike the refreshing feeling you had earlier. but, you brushed it off to appreciate the new friend you gained from your new job. also, how could you forget to grab an onigiri before heading home...dammnit. now you'll be craving onigiri forever.

notes: this fic just serves an attestment to my writing, i promise i can write ya'll 🧑‍🎤. anyways i am SO excited for this fic and yes, i am letting you know now. akaashi is going to be a tiny bit of an asshole but not a horrible person, just an inconsiderate boyfriend. but, alas read to find out more. also no actual osamu appearance this chapter because it's just a prelude. but anyways, highly super excited.

taglist (open): @wyrcan @nightlybakes @anyalou @boogiemansbitch

[flyingwargle]

tuesdays are the twins’ designated day to spend together. they take turns visiting each other, either in osaka or hyogo, and this week is osamu’s turn to visit atsumu. he waits for his brother’s text to confirm where and when to pick him up, but falls asleep before it comes. when he wakes the next morning though, no new notifications greet him.

weird. there’s no way he could’ve forgotten, when this has been their routine for the last two years. osamu cooks breakfast, sips his morning coffee, reads the newspaper, keeps an ear out for his phone. it still doesn’t go off. he waits until noon, when he knows practice is over, and calls atsumu.

it goes to voicemail. what is that scrub doing? osamu opens his list of contacts, where he has a few of the jackals' numbers saved, acquainted with them after one too many spontaneous nights out at onigiri miya. he calls the one that’s most agreeable and slides the phone to his ear.

“hi, osamu-san!”

“hey, hinata. sorry ta bother ya, but d’ya know where my idiot brother is?”

“huh? aren’t you supposed to be with him?”

osamu frowns. “i mean, we usually have lunch together today, but that scrub never told me where ta go or where ta meet him, an’ he didn’t pick up when i called.”

“oh! we thought so,” hinata mumbles.

“what’s that supposed ta mean?”

“actually, atsumu-san collapsed during practice today. it turns out he’s sick. meian-san wanted to take him to the hospital, but atsumu-san said that you'll take care of him. we weren’t sure whether to believe him or not, but he left before we could do anything. one of our coaches drove him home, so he should still be there.”

dread trickles down his spine. collapsed during practice. that hadn’t happened since their last year in high school. what happened to cause this? “thanks, hinata. i better get my ass over there.”

“bokuto-san, omi-san, and i will stop by later! we just have to get through a meeting first.”

“take yer time. he ain’t goin’ anywhere.” osamu ends the call, swears under his breath, and flies into action. what the heck, ‘tsumu? what happened ta ya?

he cuts the half hour drive down to twenty minutes, pulling into the visitor stall of his brother’s apartment and taking two stairs at a time because the elevator is too slow. there’s no point in knocking; he pulls his keys out and inserts the correct one, pushing it open. “hey, scrub! are ya still alive?”

no answer. osamu closes the door, takes his shoes off beside his brother’s runners. the lights are off, dishes left in the sink, curtains pulled shut. he drops his bag on the couch and steps into the bedroom, where an atsumu-shaped bundle is huddled under the blankets. osamu tugs them aside.

atsumu gives him a weak glare. his nose is red, hair greasy with sweat. he’s still in his practice clothes, socks included. “what’re ya doin’ here?”

“ya didn’t pick up when i called, so i had ta learn from hinata that yer pathetic ass went ta practice while sick.” osamu tosses pajamas at him. “go change, unless ya want me ta drive ya ta the doctor.”

“it’s whatever. i just caught a cold.” atsumu struggles, so osamu helps him. he steps into the bathroom to wet a cloth, returning to run it over his forehead, his brother complaining. “i ain’t a child.”

“sure ya are. who goes ta practice when they’re sick? yer a pro now, ‘tsumu. ya can’t just not take care of yerself.” he fixes his blankets to tuck him in. “go sleep. i’ll make ya somethin’ ta eat.”

there isn’t much in the fridge, but luckily, osamu brought ingredients. atsumu has rice, at least, which he uses for porridge. while it simmers, he texts his manager to hold the fort down for him, and updates hinata that atsumu is, unfortunately, alive. when the porridge is ready, he brings a bowl to his brother.

atsumu is listless as he eats. osamu sits on the desk chair beside him, watches him eat every spoonful until the bowl is clean. he takes it back, leaves it on the desk. “so? what made ya overwork yerself?"

"it’s nothin’.”

“ya were always worse at hidin’ stuff between the two of us.” osamu taps his eyes, indicating his brother’s swollen eyelids. “what got ya cryin’ this time?”

his brother doesn’t look at him, keeps his eyes on his lap. “d’ya ever feel like what ya do is enough?”

“i do. don’t ya?”

“no. i mean, most of the time, i do, but…”

osamu nods. “it gets ta ya, doesn’t it? i know.” they’re cut from the same cloth, after all. both of them continue to run, side by side, always striving to be the best, do all they can, haunted by the same question: is it enough? is there more that can be done? is it okay to stop?

it never is, when you’re competing to see who has a happier life, but if one twin needs to slow down, the other will be there to jog with them.

“i dunno, it just hit me like a tonna bricks. tobio-kun beat me in the rankings an’ as startin’ setter durin’ the olympics. yeah, the jackals got the championship win this season, but that’s after a long streak of losin’, of gettin’ so close, but not enough. an’ now…” atsumu lets out a breath. “ya just gotta do it all over again, an’ again.”

“ain’t that life, though?” osamu replies. “we’re adults now. we just gotta find the lil’ things in life ta make us happy, ta make it seem like what we do is enough. an’ that includes takin’ care of yerself so we can do the things we like.”

atsumu rolls his eyes, though it’s weak and drowsy. “ya didn’t hafta come.”

“an’ what? pretend yer all right when ya didn’t even reply ta me ‘bout today’s lunch plans?”

“oh. that was today?”

“yes, ya scrub. that’s why i’m here.” osamu punches his shoulder, light and exasperated. “an’ i’m gonna stay here ‘till ya feel better, so ya better get some sleep ta rest those eyes that are gonna see me fer a few days.”

“ew. thanks for the heads-up, i guess.” atsumu settles back on the bed, osamu pulling the blanket over him. just as he stands to leave, his brother’s drowsy murmur gives him pause. “thanks, ‘samu.”

“any time, ‘tsumu.” for all their bickering and teasing, they know they can be there for each other, no matter what.

[emmyrosee]

angst, you say?

Like, I am sorry to inform you, but when you and Osamu break up, he can no longer see or make or think about your favorite foods.

Your favorite Onigiri? Not on the menu anymore.

It’s a bizarre recipe too. One he made for you by accident, one you insisted on trying while he was testing new flavor combinations. It was a pain to make, hard to replicate, but for you, he’d do anything, absolutely anything to make you smile.

Now that you’re gone, he saves himself to consistent heartache in making it, taking it off the menu in hopes to combat the sight of you, pleading him to make it, jutting your lip out and clasping your fingers together while he looks you up and down in amusement. Now that you’re gone, he saves himself the trouble of tears stinging his eyes of the memories swirling in his head of you, sitting on the counter as he makes it at home, sneaking bites of rice from him when he’s turned around, only to act like you never did it.

It was on the menu for years. Only one person ordered it consistently. You.

So it’s completely normal why he bites his thumb nail as this damn seven year old, seemingly fresh out of a dance recital comes in, hands and chin hooked on the counter as her mother orders food, asking about her favorite onigiri no longer being served.

“Sorry, Miss, we haven’t had that on the menu in months-“

“But you’ve gotta make it!” She pouts. “I always get it after my dance recitals! It’s my favorite…”

“Yumei, don’t be rude!” Her mother scolds.

Osamu takes a deep breath in and rolls his shoulders, smiling softly at the young girl.

“Maybe I can whip one up. Just for you.” He leans slightly over the register, “but don’t tell anyone, okay?”

She gasps excitedly and bounces on the balls of her feet, squeaking out a “thanks, mister!” as her mother pays.

It kills him as he puts the order into the system for the cooks to make. It kills him as the cooks look at him like he’s got five heads, “we uh… we don’t know how to make this, Miya.”

“That’s alright,” he chokes, swallowing thickly. “Just watch the register.

“I’ll take care of it.”

[sexyandcringe]

Hopeless romantic

Part 2 ◇ Part 3 ◇ Part 4

Warnings: none, osamu feeling inferior to tsumu :(

Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt/comfort

A/n: Osamu's POV! I swear i'm gonna continue the story-line in the next chap.!

All of his childhood, Osamu felt like he was divided in half because of his brother: half food, half clothes, and half affection from their parents. It was almost like people didn’t see him as his own person. To the world, they were “The Twins”, never just “Osamu” and just “Atsumu”.

Time changed, things changed, they each started to become their own person, dreaming of different futures and places to go to.

Osamu always felt like he was the shadow to the light named Miya Atsumu, but he loved him dearly, so much that even today he half-expects to find Atsumu tangled up beneath the sheets of their childhood bunker bed, only to be greeted by the disappointing sight of his mirror, where his reflection gets blurred with the lines of his twin brother.

Osamu loved Atsumu but he didn’t want to hurt people like Atsumu often did; he told his brother that he was never going to become like him, so he became a little less selfish, less stubborn and less greedy.

With you, though, he is greedy. And he wants all of you.

He wants to hold you while you two watch some stupid anime called Haikyuu that you’re obsessed with, he wants to listen to you rambling about your day and your disdain for Alice, the insufferable colleague of yours; he wants to cook for you and feed you with his own hands and he wants to wait for you in your shared bed.

Osamu didn’t want a lot of things in his life, except his restaurant and his family, but since the day he saw you walk in with wet hair and drenched clothes, he started to want a lot more than he could afford, from the most mundane acts of waking up together to the intimacy of making love to you.

He is patient though, he lets your relationship grow steadily.

He thought that he would be happy with the leftover crumbles of affection that you gave him, but when you stopped coming to his shop, Osamu lost it completely. 

He was waiting for you around 7 PM like every Friday, he was feeling confident that day and wanted to suggest a casual outing to the neighbouring town's food fair.

(Nothing like a date, just a friendly hang out, he told himself).

His resolve wavered when you didn’t show up, not for one, not for two, but for three weeks in a row. He thought of all the possibilities as to why you didn’t come for so long, and he tried his best not to imagine the worst-case scenario. That can’t be. Nope.

On the third Friday of your absence, Osamu was crumbling. He closed the shop earlier than usual and went straight into the supermarket to get his guilty pleasure: the Butter Cookies.

His grandma always used to get them for him and unlike many other children, he never found sewing tools or anything of the sort in the box; his grandma knew that that kind of disappointment would be far too great for a six-year-old, food-enthusiast ‘Samu.

Well, grandma, that kind of disappointment is too great for a twenty-six-year-old ‘Samu too, because the guy was nearly panicking when he couldn’t find the boxes of Butter Cookies at their usual place. 

He was positive, though, because even after searching everywhere and not finding them, he didn’t lose hope. They will be available in another grocery store for sure. He got his priority straight and redirected his steps to another store across the town.

Luckily for him, the store was still open for another hour and it didn’t take him long to finally see his comfort food, in all its glory, staring at him from the shelf in the second aisle.

He was just about to go and pay for his box when he caught a glimpse of your silhouette, halting him in his tracks and confirming that it was, in fact, you.

Concern etches across his features as he looks at your tired and empty eyes, wondering if you have been taking care of yourself. Did you eat enough? Sleep enough?

The desire to call out to you is strong, leaving him no time to think before he is already approaching you, “That one will go bad in like 2 days.”

You look like a deer caught in headlights, doe eyes staring at him in what he wants to believe is awe.  You smile timidly before saying: “Hi Osamu, long time no see.” 

Yeah, long time no see, indeed. Osamu wants to be mad at you for making him so worried, for not coming to his shop, for not letting him know if you were doing okay, but he is just the owner of a restaurant and you’re just a regular client.

At least, you used to be a regular client. He can’t force you to like his company or his shop, no matter how much he wishes it.

Despite this, he can’t stop the bitter remark that slips past his lips,“Yeah, because someone hasn’t been coming to my restaurant lately.” you visibly wince, though he can’t seem to care enough.

You stutter some poor excuse as he inspects the other vegetables in the aisle, handing you one with a clean surface that will last at least five days, per Osamu’s calculations.

His hands touch yours and it makes him blush like a middle schooler.

You both talk about nothing and everything and in between the mundane banter and playful jabs, Osamu finds himself agreeing to a cooking lesson at your apartment.

And he couldn’t be happier.

Reblogs are really appreciated!

Tags: @lees-chaotic-brain @writingsofanomnivore @pressuredtreasure @k4sumis0u

[petriquors]

POV: you gave your neighbor your spare key

a/n: gn!reader, post-timeskip, breakups, hurt/comfort, pining

You regret giving your spare key to your neighbor, Osamu.

It started with a business trip. You needed someone to water your plants, and he didn’t mind stopping at your place on his way to work. Then, you became friends, and it became an easy way to see each other. After all, it saves you the effort of getting up and opening the door when he comes over.

This time is different.

This time, your response to seeing Osamu walk through your door isn’t a smile with crinkled eyes. It’s a dejected “You should go.”

The door closes. You hear, “Like Hell I should.”

You're laying on your side, wrapped in your favorite blanket on your sofa. Your eyes sting, so you close them and will away another wave of tears. It’s been a long day: what should have been an easy day off for you started with getting dumped by the guy you’ve been seeing.

Over text.

At 5 A.M.

“Sit up,” Osamu pauses, and you hear the rustling of a plastic bag, “or you’ll choke on your own snot.”

“Aren’t you nice?” You mutter and wrinkle your nose but sit up anyway. It’s the first time you’ve moved in over an hour, so your shoulders ache in protest, and your head spins as it reacclimates to being right side up.

After just a few minutes, Osamu brings a cup of tea into your living room. It’s in your favorite mug, and from where you’re sitting, you can already smell that it’s your favorite variety. You watch him warily, unsure what he’s going to do or why he even bothered to come. You were perfectly ready to spend today crying alone, but now there’s someone else in your space.

And if the scowl he wears is anything to go by, he won't let you be alone.

He sets the teacup down on the coffee table. You watch steam slowly billow off the liquid’s surface, wafting through the air at a pace so gentle that you feel your lungs begin to relax for the first time all day.

In the corner of your eye, you see Osamu moving again, and then he fills your vision: broad shoulders, strong jaw, worried scowl. He’s kneeling right in front of you, hands on his thighs, brow deeply creased. He’s silent. Watching you. 

Suddenly nervous, you open your mouth and say, “I’m sorry—”

He puts a hand on the sofa cushion, next to your thigh. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“But—”

He scoffs as if the very notion of you apologizing to him is offensive. “Would you let me apologize to you for accepting your help when I need it?”

You grumble because he’s right, and also because it’s hard to accept the fact that being dumped is a lot easier to deal with when you’re not all alone.

And yet, you can’t help but wonder, “How’d you find out?”

“Group chat,” he says, and that makes you roll your eyes. You told one of your other friends, so of course she metaphorically ran off to the group chat to tell everyone else—probably in the name of ripping off the Band-Aid so you don’t have to.

You close your eyes for a second that feels like an hour. Maybe if you open them again, this will all be a nightmare, you’ll be in your bed, it’ll still be the middle of the night, and you’ll still be seeing the guy who dumped you.

But that would also mean Osamu wouldn’t be kneeling in front of you. Why does the lack of Osamu bother you more than the lack of your ex?

You look down at your hands as if their lines and creases hold all the answers in the universe. They don’t. “I just wanted to mean something to him.”

“You mean everything to people that matter a lot more than him.”

His voice is so uncharacteristically low that your eyes snap up to his. His eyes are a little wide as if he can’t believe he just said that, his lips are parted as if he wants to say something more, and he swallows hard as if gulping down a mountain of emotions.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Why?” you venture.

Osamu thinks that’s an unfair question to ask, and he wants to tell you just as much. But when you look at him with wide eyes that haven’t been free from tears for hours, he realizes that you—strong, vibrant, wonderful you—need a gentle touch whether you like it or not.

He reaches for the steaming cup of tea, now cool enough not to burn you, and places it in your hands. Your fingers touch; his breath catches. Your hands are colder than he expected, so he says, “Drink.”

When you take a long sip of tea, he tries to find a few seconds of peace to sort through his own mess of thoughts. He didn’t account for the fact that you were going to close your eyes, which makes your lashes dust over the tops of your cheeks, which makes him think about wiping away your tears with his own hands.

He shouldn’t touch you like that. Maybe you’d think it’s just a friendly gesture, but he would know that he really means to take care of you better than the jerk who dumped you ever did.

And that means protecting your heart, even at the expense of his own.

He swears to himself that he won’t be a rebound. It’d be wrong to take advantage of you in a moment as vulnerable as this one, and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt you like that. But he’ll be damned if he lets you suffer like this alone.

“Thank you for being here,” you murmur, and your words stab him right through the heart. You have no idea what saying things like that does to him, to the longing he’s been feeling for you. That feeling has become so familiar to him that it feels like it’s a part of him now.

“Of course I’d be here,” he chokes out, forcing his voice to be gentle, gentle. His heart trembles and quakes when he sees what this other guy did to you, but rather than find out where this guy works and ask him what his problem is, Osamu wants to be right here, comforting you.

“You should be smiling,” he continues, unable to stop the words on their rapid descent from brain to mouth. His voice is so soft and raspy that even he doesn’t recognize himself. “You shouldn’t be worrying about what he thinks of you.”

He only wants you to be happy. It really is that simple. It always has been.

So, he silently promises himself and you that he’s going to wait. He’s going to be here for you while you heal from this, and he’ll help you heal from this—and when you’re ready, if you’ll have him, he’ll be yours.

"I brought ice cream," he changes the subject, afraid of how desperate he is to see you smile again. "Want some?"

He already belongs to you, anyway. Who cares if it takes you a little more time to realize it?

[baeshijima]

anyway since my hq!! hyperfixation has reared its head around once more, i shall remind u all of one thing:

iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer (+ argentina player oikawa tooru)

[ninapi]

┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓

For Kimetsu go here

For Jujutsu go here

For Tokyo Rev here

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

❀。• New to this

Akaashi version (Good ending route): Akaashi Keiji falls in love with a single mother and realizes she's all he wants for his life.

Word count: 27,791

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

☆Bonus chapter (Valentines special)

Osamu version (Happy ending route): Osamu fights for his very own chance at happiness when he is reunited with his first love, the mother of his brother's son.

Word count: 20,044

☆ ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

Atsumu version (True ending route): Atsumu gets another chance to get back the love of his life, the mother of his son, and build the family he was supposed to have.

Word count: 23,240

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

❀。• Save me

The beginning: ☆ch.0

Semi version (Good ending route): Semi never thought he would find love where his insecurities laid deep, he never thought someone so broken could be so full of love, he never thought he needed to feel loved as much, until he met you.

Word Count: 24,248

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

☆Bonus Chapter: Good ending Oikawa version

Ushijima version (Happy ending route): Ushijima struggles to understand the concept of love and what is expected of him in said equation, but he finds himself in the predicament of wanting nothing more than to be with the woman he loves even if it gets in the way of his established lifestyle.

Word Count: 19,837

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

Kageyama version (True ending route): Friendship is a fragile thing. Keeping you safe was his priority for the longest time, but overcoming hardships along someone you hold dear form irreplaceable, indestructible bonds, and a childhood friend can easily become the love of your life; or so that was for Kageyama Tobio.

Word Count: 19,958

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

❀。• Forbidden Forest

Premise: Ancient Japan gets hit by a rare disease coming from the birds. Succumbing to it and fearing for the safety of your bird companion, as a last resort you reach a mythical forest full of ancient shapeshifting creatures. Will you be able to find a cure? Will you be safe in the middle of a forest full of unknown forces? Love is right around the corner and meeting different clans will help you find it.

☆ Ch.0

☆ Tengu Clan Path (Sugawara Koushi):

Staying by your bird friend's side was the most comforting path to follow. Will this one lead to a happy ending? Was this the right choice? Love can weigh you down sometimes, but it's wonderful, nonetheless.

Word count: 5782

☆ Owl Clan Path (Bokuto Koutarou):

The promise of a cure had never been this close, being the wisest of the forest clans, the answer might be around the corner, but what if you didn’t want to leave the forest any longer?

Word count: 4764

☆Bakeneko Clan Path (Kuroo Tetsurou):

The possibility to save humanity presented itself, but you would have to leave the forest to chase this opportunity, something that could end your life. What you didn’t know was that chasing it would also mean find a love like no other, one that was waiting for you on the other side.

Word count: 5582

❀。• Fox Village

Premise: The last option to overcome the illness that holds you was very much uncertain. A place only known to be a myth became your last chance to survive. Welcome to the fox village, a place full of mystical beings, a place to finally call home, a place where love knocks in more than one door at the same time and choosing which to open might as well change your life forever.

☆ Ch.0

❀。• Kita Version (Good Ending Route): The connection he had with his past made Kita want you more than any of the others. He wanted to be like his grandma and she had a human by her side, always. Looking for the village best interest he ends up finding the real meaning of true love.

Word Count: 6296

☆ Ch.1 ☆ Ch.2

❀。• Atsumu Version (Happy Ending, Ver.1): Atsumu had never been interested in others, to his family and the village he was a good for nothing, a heartless fox possessed by an evil spirit that feeds on his compassion. But to you, he was just like everybody else. Having someone to listen to you and be by your side sometimes can make a big difference in who you become and what you accomplish in life, and so it was for Miya Atsumu.

Word count: 6348

☆ Ch.1 ☆ Ch.2

❀。• Suna Version (Happy Ending, Ver.2): Being the first born of the most prominent house in the village, it was a pressing matter for Suna to deliver as future head of his clan. High expectations were set for him which sent him your way, only for him to realize you were all he really needed.

Word Count: 6111

☆ Ch.1 ☆Ch.2

❀。• Osamu Version (True Ending): Fighting his own blood for what he wanted had always been an everyday thing for Osamu, but this time was different, he wouldn't let anyone have you, not even his twin brother. Before you, mating was just a concept of survival for them, but love can change someone to unimaginable lengths.

Word Count: 6186

☆ Ch.1 ☆ Ch.2

❀。• Glitched:

Premise: Suna Rintarou unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams through an online game and he does his best to find this mysterious girl in the real world and keep her for good.

Word count: 12,514

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4

❀。• A perfect circle

Premise: When you like the guy who likes the guy that likes you, things get a little out of hand, when a triangle becomes a circle not just one gets hurt. [Yamaguchi/Tsukki]

Word count: in progress…

☆ Ch.1 ☆ Ch.2 ☆ Ch.3 ☆Ch.4 ☆Tsukki’s Ending

....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

[cherrysurf]

Late night onigir 🍙 {drabble}

Osamu x reader

Timeskip,modern au, slight angst, somewhat comfort, ex lovers, they don’t get back together,Based off of the song missin you crazy by Russ not proofread sorry for the typos

You walk into this onigir shop late at night truly not paying attention to the name just looking for something to eat and this was the only thing close by. As you step into the shop you can’t help but get a sense of nostalgia but you can’t pin point why. As you take a seat you see a familiar face emerge from the back that has yet to notice you but you noticed him. Osamu Miya. Your old high school boyfriend whom you ended on awkward terms back your guys second year i mean you were each others first boyfriend and girlfriend. This must be the shop he opened up, how foolish to walk into your ex boyfriend’s shop but I guess there’s no turning back now huh?

Now his eyes finally met yours, his beautiful gray eyes that never changed unlike the rest of him, he looked good. Buff and built despite not playing volleyball anymore. You snap out of the trance as you hear your name being called “Yn?” Osamu says with a faint of confusion as to wondering what you could be doing here. “Osamu.” You say looking at him with a hint of sadness in your eyes. “I’m sorry for coming in I didn’t know this was your shop I was just looking for something to eat.” You say as you look down at the table nervously fidgeting with your hands. “You’re all good yn don’t sweat it. How have you been it’s been too long since I’ve seen you?” He asked you with a warm smile “I’ve been good I almost didn’t recognize you when I saw you at first, you look good.” You say feeling the instant comfort that he always brought. “I’m really glad to hear, I was shocked to see you for a second your hair got longer. What brings ya’ in?”he responded still standing there towering over you. “I just got off work I had to stay late and I wanted to get a bite to eat before I went home.” You say looking up at him and into his eyes “ah I see well what can I get ya?” He says pulling out a notepad to write down the order “uhm surprise me? I trust your taste samu” you say slightly laughing and then it struck you that you called him samu. Ugh of course you would. Now as a faint blush creeps on your face he laughs at it “you got it I’ll bring some things out for you to try.” He says smiling as he walks off.

As osamu brings out the food you can’t help but salivate at the amazing smell coming from the plate “I hope ya like it yn” he says setting it down in front of you. “Thank you osamu I appreciate it.” You say bowing your head a bit, he hesitates as he asks “the restaurants empty..mind if I sit with you, ya’ know to catch up?” As a smile creeps up on your face you nod in agreement “yeah of course I’d like that a lot.” He sits across from you now waiting for you to try the food as you take a bite into the first ongiri absolutely delicious osamu catches a glimpse of your eyes sparkling and your cheeks filled he can’t help but laugh at the cute sight of this he misses you. He’s happy to see you when he never thought he would, seeing you for the first time made memories with you flood back and now it felt like he was reliving the moments of you and him together back when he felt more free back when you too drove up and down 92 with the view of the moon and you in the passenger seat. That was so good he thought but now it’s all gone I mean it is what it is because you both moved on at least you guys have memories and now he has this one too. Then he snaps out of the trance as you call his name. “Osamu?? Are you okay?” You say with slight worry in your eyes. “Nah I’m okay just thinking you know?” He responds looking at the food on your plate almost half gone he smiles “you liked the food?” He questions “ya! I loved it it’s amazing osamu I forgot how good your cooking was” you say laughing “I’m really proud of you for opening this up osamu it’s amazing” you say once more as look at him with nothing but happiness for him because truly you were so proud of osamu for going out and doing what he wanted too with nothing holding him back. Osamu looks at you now “thank you yn I appreciate it I mean if I didn’t do it we wouldn’t have met again would we have now?” He says with a light chuckle but truly grateful he got too see you once more. “Yeah you’re right and I wouldn’t haven’t gotten to try your amazing food” you responded. Looking around at his shop now as we both sit in silence then he says “it’s getting pretty late I don’t want you to miss the train yn” “oh yea your right it seems like I must’ve lost track of time.” You say with a slight smile “where can I pay?” You responded “no no it’s fine it’s on the house don’t worry” osamu says as he stands up “no please i insist it’s too good.” As you stand up and follow osamu. “How about you pay me the next time you come okay?”

You look up at him *next time?* I thought maybe he wants to see you again.. “okay fine next time when are your hours? I don’t wanna come in if you’re about to close” you say as you look up at him. “For you yn it doesn’t matter just as long as you tell your friends about it so I can get more business” he says with a chuckle. You smile and laugh as well “mmh very well then I’ll see you soon samu. Goodnight.” You say as you walk out the shop “see you soon yn.” Osamu says with sadness in his voice ugh how he couldn’t wait to see you again.