#osamu fluff

[evamame]

osamu tattoos your daughter’s name on his wrist when she’s born. the day of her birth was an absolute miracle for him, being able to hear her cries and hold her fragile figure in his arms for the first time. as a way to show off his undying love for his little angel, he gets her name inscribed in small cursive letters across his right wrist. now he can carry her with him to work, smiling to himself at the thought of her adorable babbles and loud giggles every time he catches sight of it while shaping onigiri. his daughter is one of the most precious things on earth to him—coming up second just right after you—so his small tattoo is a homage to his overflowing love for her. it’s a way to commemorate every grabby motion she makes for him to pick her up, every stumble as she determinedly tries her best to walk, and every hand wave followed by a yell of “papa!” when he arrives home that fills his heart with an overwhelming warmth.

[6okuto]

osamu x gn!reader | suggestive! a little butt grabbing :P

"the fan's blowin' straight at me and it's still too hot."

"take your shirt off then."

from his spot on the other side of the couch, osamu turns to you—slowly, as if giving you a chance to speak before he does. but you say nothing, fan filling the silence instead, and meet narrowed eyes when you look up. osamu's voice is laced with amused disbelief, "say that again?"

"...i—sorry—" you sputter and snort, finally processing what you said. osamu stares as you cover your mouth and try not to laugh. "sorry. reflex."

he tucks his chin in and raises his brows. dropping his voice half an octave, he asks, "you tell guys to take their shirt off often, huh?"

(the way his lips try to quirk upward betrays his feigned offense.)

"stop, wait, stop, i meant like, an impulsive joke, samu, wait—"

osamu's gaze is locked onto you as he sits up and starts moving closer. "who exactly are you tellin' to get naked?"

"woah, i did not say get naked!"

extending your arms out in defense, a laugh escapes your throat. the couch dips with each of your boyfriend's movements, and your attempts to flee only lead you deeper into the corner where back meets arm. you think you'd be inclined to try harder, to roll off, maybe, if this wasn't a front-row seat to osamu's arms flexing with each predatory crawl forward, a playful smirk donned on his face.

he's at your feet when he asks, "y'ask atsumu?"

"oh my god, no!" you scrunch your nose and laugh again as he grabs your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. his hands are warm, palms sticking to yours as you push into each other, playful rather than aggressive.

osamu moves closer to kneel between your legs, thighs pushing yours apart, and you hum at the sight of him. you bite your lip then grin, cheeky with intent. "but you know, if you want to get naked, go for it."

osamu blinks.

then he snorts, lets himself tumble on top of you—"oh my god, babe."

"agh," you groan through a snicker. "samu, get off, you're heavy and hot."

"oh really?" he drawls, amusement clear in his voice. arms encircle your figure, and a hand slides down to your ass and squeezes. dark strands of hair tickle your jaw as he nips the side of your neck. "thought y'wanted t'get hot and heavy?"

"okay, well, this is too hot," you complain yet make no move to escape his grasp.

osamu hums against your skin, breath warm. then the arms around you pull, and you yelp as he falls back to the other end of the couch.

the fan, set to the highest setting, blows his bangs across his face but barely cools the new heat coiling in your stomach pressed against his. osamu grins up at you with a new heavy-lidded gaze that flickers between your eyes and lips.

"how 'bout now?"

[omisubi]

𓂅 SIDELINES — M. OSAMU

plot : You’re a model in Tokyo’s limelight that is crushing on your best friend’s brother. Except, your usual charm doesn’t work on the impassive cook.

contains: fluff, comedy, reader lacking flirting skills, osamu playing hard to get, atsumu being atsumu, 1.3k words.

.

.

.

Cameras seem to love you.

It’s what Osamu thinks when he sees you on the cover of yet another magazine that piles on top of many others. He turns on the restaurant’s TV and then there you are again on Japan’s Entertainment News. And there’s his brother right next to you.

You and Atsumu were notorious best friends. There were numerous photographs of the both of you at exclusive parties, always dressed to the nines, promoting whatever popular brand.

Of course, just like everyone, Osamu thought you were pretty. Gorgeous. Whatever. He believes you are most definitely annoying. Because who hangs out with Atsumu that much? He did it for eighteen years and he barely made it out alive and you’re voluntarily doing it? You’re insane for sure.

He’s made an effort to know more about your relationship with his brother. Dropping subtle asks to Atsumu like so I’ve seen you on the news with that model. New girlfriend? but oddly enough, Atsumu talks about you like a friend. A good one, at that. To Osamu’s surprise, Atsumu has said the words she’s like my sister.

So, there it was. His opinion of you: indifferent. Yet, there he was, finding himself freezing up when you walked into his store with a million dollar smile as you end your conversation with someone on the phone.

He tells himself its just shock so his calm demeanor comes back when you reach the counter.

When he looks up at you, you’re freezing up. He’s really.... handsome. Of course, he has the same face as Atsumu, but it’s different? Osamu’s confidence is calmly exuded, in contrast to Atsumu’s. His dark hair frames his face nicely under the cap. Wow, is all you’re thinking. His biceps flex as he reaches the tablet at the cashier. That black fitted shirt makes you wonder if half the customers come in just for him, just to stay for both the man and his good food.

“Miss?” The girl at the cashier is looking at you with a concerned expression. You realize you should be speaking, rather than ogling.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I—“

“Hana, could you take the trash out before you leave? I’ll make the order and close.”

“Sure.” She smiles at him, before eyeing you.

“What would ya like?” He asks you. And he almost sounds annoyed. Maybe because it’s a little late. Atsumu did warn you to not come this late, but your shoot just finished and you were starving.

You muster up the courage and with your most charming smile, you say, “Your number.” When it comes out of your mouth, you realize you might just be spending too much time with Atsumu, accidentally picking up his lack of flirting skills. Osamu stares at you. Confused. Unimpressed. So, you abruptly add, “3.” Cough. “Your number 3.. and a cup of green tea, please.”

He gives a nod before registering your cash in and you stand there to dwell on your humiliation.

As Osamu prepares your order he finds himself feeling a little smug because— Wow, you really have no game for someone with a face like that. It could be fun teasing you.

So, he does just that. Every time you come, he gets to play hard-to-get. He finds himself looking forward to Thursday nights. It’s the one day a week you consistently come. He gets to sees why you and Atsumu are friends. You both are somewhat the same, in most aspects. But first, you both are competent in everything but flirting. He gets to see that you’re pretty cute, blushing in front of him like he’s the celebrity.

You, on the other hand, are not having fun. Getting rejected was taking a toll on you. So this is what it’s like to pursue men? Your ego was deflating. Not only do you think Osamu doesn’t like you, you think Hana doesn’t either. Neither of them seemed to enjoy packing your three large orders of onigiri for your management team. They just seemed bothered and inconvenienced for the most part.

You grow sick of it, and it’s evident at your next shoot.

“Are ya sad he rejected you?” Atsumu asks, mocking your evident gloom. You’ve both just finished an athletic gear ad. “Buy tickets to my game. It’ll make ya feel better.”

You roll your eyes. “Nice pitch. But, no. I’m actually feeling rather ill,” you tell him.

It’s Atsumu’s turn to roll his eyes. “Get rejected once and suddenly you’re ill?”

You huff. “Heartbreak is a very serious thing.”

He chuckles. “Sure.”

His amusement doesn’t last long, because he realizes when another model comes in to take your place at the next shoot, that you really might have gone down with something. As an apology for brushing your health off (he realizes how important it is from being with Sakusa all the time), he sends the person he trusts most to you. The person just so happens to be the best at making great soup, too.

Osamu shows up to your apartment, awkward and nervous. He doesn’t know why he agreed too eagerly, even Atsumu had caught it. He could hear the smugness through the phone. But the truth is he missed you. Missed seeing your overly cheery self. Missed seeing you blush every time you two made eye contact in silence.

“Oh!” You smile, surprised but pleased to see him. Yeah, he missed seeing that smile too.“Hi.”

“Hey.” He puts a hand up to your forehead. “You’re burning up. I made you some soup.”

He watches the way your eyes light up, gasping as you look into the bag.

“Really?” When you peer into the plastic bag, you realize there’s two sets of everything. There is more than just soup. You look up to see him looking down, nervously shifting his feet.

“Can I… come in?”

.

.

You watch as Osamu heats up his fresh food and uses whatever scraps you have in your kitchen to prepare a proper meal.

“Are you going to feed me too?” You ask once you both are seated, utensils he took the liberty to set, amused to tease him. Before he can sputter out a retort, “Just kidding. Thank you. Really. And I’m sorry about bothering you the past few weeks. Your food is really good.”

Osamu raises a brow. Bother? You?

“You’re not—“

The microwave beeps.

“It’s done!” You say, excited to get some freshly made, hot food into your system.

The both of you spend the evening together, at your kitchen island. It’s terribly domestic, Osamu realizes, but he doesn’t mind. You both share stories. He learns that you’re not only a great friend to Atsumu, you’re a great person too. He respects the way you explain your career; that it’s not just about the serotonin from seeing your face on billboards and walls, it’s also about traveling and connecting with people. He likes the way you laugh, leaning into him like you’re sharing an intimate moment. He thinks you can make anyone feel at home, just being near you. He understands the draw of it all. Even on photo… he gets it; your allure. It’s the moneymaker all on its own.

“Thank you again.” You say as you walk him to the door.

“It was no problem.” I want to see you again. “See ya Thursday?”

You laugh. “Actually, you’ll be finally catch a break from me. I’m going out of town for a job soon.”

Osamu stops, turning to you. “Oh?”

You nod. “Yeah, for a week or two…”

He steps closer to you, causing you to slow your thinking. He puts a hand to your forehead. The cool of his skin making contact with yours sends you into a frenzy. “Sorry. My mom used to check again after we’d eat.”

You smile at the admission. “Why?”

He shrugs, murmuring, “I guess she wanted to see if her food cured us.”

Your heart swells.

“Well, I feel nothing short of the picture of perfect health.”

Osamu laughs. You feel like a teen again, blushing at the fact that there is a very hot guy in your apartment.

“Listen…” he plays with his sleeve. “When ya get back, can I take you out? I’d really like you bothering me.”

a/n: finally got this out of my drafts! maybe more of this couple in drabbles

[qardenofeden]

contrary to popular belief, osamu miya is not any better than his twin brother, especially when he’s with you.

this must be your fourth date this month, and it’s barely even two weeks in. so, in order to save money, osamu proposes a little life hack. a cheat code, if you will.

“baby, i got this ring at a pawn shop,” he takes a small, rusty ring from his pocket and presents it to you as he continues, “i’ll pretend i’m proposin’ to ya and all ya gotta say is yes, okay? free dinner, easy peasy.”

you sigh, holding back your laughter as you pinch your temple. “‘samu, that’s unethical.”

“whaaaat? no way, come on, baby. we’ll get to go on dates more often if we do this,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t say yes. you should be the angel in this scenario, guiding him towards the right path. the path of the just and the good.

...but then again, why would osamu date you if you weren’t at least a tiny bit similar in terms of thinking?

“fine.”

“hells yeah!” he celebrates, looking around and waiting for one of the staff members to enter your vicinity. luckily, it doesn’t take long until a blonde girl walks to the table next to yours and starts cleaning up the leftover dishes the previous party has left behind.

osamu looks at you, grinning before he gets off the chair and gets on his knee. you cup your mouth with both your hands, seemingly in shock; though in reality, you’re doing it to prevent yourself from laughing like a madman.

“my sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”

and the restaurants’ guests just eat. it. up. the crowd cheers, much like how they do in his games, and they chant “yes, yes, yes!”

“yes!” you burst out in laughter, jolting out of your seat and hugging him. he lifts you up slightly before putting you back to the ground and kissing you, lips soft and at your mercy.

osamu puts a ring on your finger as the crowd yells and howls, and later that night, the manager approaches the two of you and tells you not to worry about the bill.

atsumu’s been rubbing off on your boyfriend too much.

and so this becomes a ritual, though you’re both careful not to overuse it. you reserve it for anniversaries and small celebrations, like his team winning a big tournament or you getting a high score from a grumpy professor.

and though it doesn’t always work, you guys at least get a little dessert on the house.

until one day, when you’re a high end, fancy restaurant. you’re wearing a silk, red dress with so much jewelry, you’re practically shining. the chandelier lights reflect off of his rolex watch, and you both have just finished eating.

“this place is really good, osamu. we should come here more often.” you take a sip of the wine, drinking in delight.

“yeah... hey babe, what’s that?” he points behind you and you turn immediately in curiosity.

“...huh? ‘samu, i don’t see anything,” you turn back around to face him, but lo and behold, osamu miya is down on one knee.

your eyes look around in shock, clearly taken aback. “wha— babe, we didn’t plan this?!”

“i know,” he chuckles, pulling out a ring similar to the one he bought at the pawn shop, except brighter, cleaner. with more diamonds than you could ever even imagine. “my love, i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”

sure is a good thing osamu’s got practice.

@deardoelle mwah

[kiyuhai]

summary: You overheard his friends encourage him to confess to his crush (you). feat. Iwaizumi, Akaashi, Osamu Miya

I. IWAIZUMI HAJIME

“Bathroom break! I’ll be right back.” You tell Iwaizumi, chair screeching as you get up. He just nods, and returns his attention to the video playing on his phone, one that you searched up in hopes of roping him into the fandom of Alien Stage. 

You take about five minutes, before heading back down to your classroom, but there are new voices inside. Oikawa, Hanamaki and Mastukawa. You peek through the windows, but shrug, deciding that whatever they came to the classroom to bother Iwaizumi for is none of your business. 

The door slides open, quietly, then you freeze. 

“C’mon Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whines. Loudly. “When are you going to confess? It’s been ages!”

Hanamaki nods along, “Make a move at least, man.” 

Confess? You swallow. Hajime likes someone? 

They still don’t notice your presence, and you can see Hajime’s face contort into one of annoyance, but his ears are red. You bite your lip, not wanting to bring attention to yourself. “It’s none of your business.” He grumbles. 

“Really? I mean, I’m pretty sure [Name]-san likes you too.” Matsukawa shrugs. 

You choke. Me?! 

“[Name]-san does tend to favor Iwaizumi more than us when we go out…” Hanamaki mumbles. “That and you always favor [Name] over us. What are you even watching??"

“Yeah! Just shoot your shot, Iwa-chan. What’s the worst that could ha…” Oikawa’s eyes flit over to the door, and he pauses. “...ppen.” 

You raise a hesitant hand and wave. “...Hi? Am I… interrupting something?” 

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen, and he stares, before glaring at the other three. “Out.” 

“Yes sir!” Hanamaki and Matsukawa are quick to get on their feet and leave, glancing between you, and Iwaizumi, dragging a frozen Oikawa out of the classroom, but not before shouting “Sorry Iwaizumi!” and a “Goodluck!”

You’re still frozen by the door, and Iwaizumi is covering his eyes with his hand. “I’m sorry about them.” He manages to say, moving his hand downwards to cover his mouth, before sighing loudly, hand dropping to the desk. “...how long were you standing there?”

You smile, shy and unsure, and take your seat next to him. “Uhm, since Oikawa-san said confess–”

Iwaizumi groans. “Of course. That idiot.”

You laugh, “Hey! Don’t beat him up. I- so, Uhm.” You pause, before glancing at the paused video on his screen to his definitely embarrassed face. “... You like me?” 

He blinks, and you see his face redden, but he nods, hand covering the lower half of his face as he avoids your eyes. “Yeah. Uhm. For a while… now.” Then he mumbles, “I didn’t want you finding out like this… stupid Oikawa.” 

You flush, and let out a sheepish chuckle. “Really?”

He nods, and you smile. “That's… great. Cuz, uhm– I like you too.” You cough, feeling extremely awkward, but when you see his face light up as he looks at you, you feel like this is a moment you would look back on fondly in a few years. 

“Yeah? You do?”

“Uhuh.” You smile turning shy. You can see his grin widen, and he inches his seat closer to yours. 

“Then I guess I don’t have to beat up Shittykawa later.”

You let out a laugh.

II. OSAMU MIYA

You were just passing by the gym to drop off your cousins’ things before you left. You really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on Atsumu and Osamu’s talk near the vending machine. 

“I dunno, ‘Tsumu.” The moment you heard Osamu’s voice right by the corner, you pause. In your hands are Shin's things that he asked you to drop by the gym, but you look terrible right now, and your friend and also simultaneous crush, Osamu Miya is right by the corner. 

“Really, Samu?” Tsumu sounds serious. “Ya really gonna pass up the chance to admit your feelings ‘ta [Name]?”

You freeze. What?

Samu sighs, the sound of a drink clinking as it hits the metal of the vending machine. You hear the sizzle of soda, and silence for a minute before Samu speaks. “I don’t wanna ruin our friendship, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re kind of an idiot, ‘Samu.”

There’s silence, before Astumu lets out a loud “Ow!” and Samu grumbles, “The hell you mean by that, dumbass?”

“Ow– you don’t have to hit me, man!” 

“Yeah, well yer deserved it.”

“For calling you an idiot?!” 

You can tell that Atsumu was going to start another fight, and that Samu has a grin on his face, but Tsumu seems to have reigned in his urge to punch his twin, instead continuing his sentence. “Look, ‘Samu. It’s clear to everyone that [Name] likes yer back, so shoot your shot.”

You blink. WHAT?! You were going to stay still for a few more minutes, but let out the loudest shriek of your life when you feel a hand on your shoulder from behind. 

Turning, wide eyed, hands clutching your chest, you glare. “SHIN!”

Your cousin just blinks at you, and you can tell he’s judging you slightly from the way his lips turn downwards, eyes sharp as he looks at your panicked state and just states, “What’s taking you so long?”

You stammer, “Oh, uhm, well, you see–”

The shriek you let out earlier unfortunately told the Miya  twins that you were there, and had turned the corner, both faces turned in both worry and confusion. “[Name]?” 

You curse, turn to them and smile. “Hi.” Then you turn back to Shin and shove his things to him, before taking off, yelling out a “Okay, See you, Bye!” Face burning red as you think back to the fact that Osamu Miya has a crush on you, too.

You leave a confused Shinsuke Kita behind, and twins that stare at your retreating back, before exchanging glances. 

“She heard us, didn’t she?” Samu says. His twin nods, and lets out another loud “OW!” when Samu fully punches his side.  “What the hell, Samu?!” 

He does confess to you another day, but that was after a good week of you barely meeting his eyes.

III. AKAASHI KEJI

Bokuto is LOUD. 

Because you didn’t need to be close to the gym to hear the snowy haired’s booming voice, “WHAT?!”

You pause, hands midway to reaching for the gym doors. Brows furrowed, you slowly open the door, but Bokuto is loud, excited, basically vibrating in joy, as he talks to Akaashi Keiji.

You were looking for Akaashi to ask a few things regarding your shared project before you left, but what you didn’t expect is to hear Bokuto’s next words.

“You're finally partnered with [Name]?! That’s great bro! Maybe you’ll get to confess while you work on that project!!” You blank out. 

What. 

Akaashi’s back is to you, but Bokuto hasn’t even noticed you yet, continuing to ramble despite Akaashi’s embarrassed, “Bokuto-san.” 

“Say, Akaashi– you should take this chance to confess, yknow? I have a hunch [Name] likes you…” He trails off, Bokuto finally realizing you are there, standing frozen as your face reddens. 

You clear your throat, and you swear you never saw Akaashi’s head snap towards you that fast. You meet his wide eyed gaze with a small smile. “Uhm, Hi, Bokuto-san, Akaashi-san.” 

Akaashi’s composure is still stiff with what you can tell is embarrassment at the fact you heard everything Bokuto said, and his ears are red. “... [Name]-san.” 

“.... I’m so sorry, Akaashi.” Bokuto says, frozen in place as his eyes flicker from you to Akaashi. You just smile, awkward, but you continue, “Uhm, Akaashi-san, can I talk to you for a sec? It’s about.. Uhm, our project.”

“Ah. Yes, of course.” He nods his head, and you head out of the gym. 

The air is awkward, and you’re silent for a while, before Akaashi clears his throat. “What are your questions, [Name]-san?”

“Ah. Right.” You converse normally, but you can tell that there’s an awkward air the moment you have eye contact only for both of your heads to aggressively turn the opposite direction. 

“... That’s about it, Akaashi-san.” You smile, and he nods, offering you a smile of his own, and you think wow pretty. You internally kick yourself. “Ah- I’m sorry if I took away a part of your practice time.” You realize how long it took to discuss your project, already hearing the squeak of shoes from inside the gym, and quickly apologize.

“Ah, no, It's okay [name]-san.” He smiles again, reassuringly, and you hesitantly nod. “Okay.” 

It’s silent again, and you quickly excuse yourself, before Akaashi stops you with a quiet, “[Name]-san?” 

“Hm?” You look at him, and you can tell that he’s a bit nervous.

“About what Bokuto-san said… I hope you aren’t burdened by my feelings.” He flushes, and you blink. His hand nervously rubs the back of his nape, “You don’t have to return them. I just hope it won’t be more awkward with this project we have to finish….” 

You nod, slowly, “Uhm, Ah.. Okay.” You pause for a moment, then you quietly say, “I don’t think you have to worry about me not returning those feelings, anyways.”

His head snaps up to meet your gaze, but you smile. “I’ll chat with you later about the project again, Akaashi-san. Have fun at practice! See you!” 

And you run off, leaving Akaashi with wide eyes. He lets out a disbelieving chuckle, but he says to your retreating back, “... See you.” 

[makkir0ll]

between you and your husband, you were the one more…vocal about your love for him. leaving him sweet notes with doodles of the two of you in his lunch, ending all heartfelt messages with x’s, planting a big kiss on his cheek that he pretended to cringe at but in reality he looked forward to it everytime he left the house.

people would always come up to you, telling you that he doesn’t reciprocate his love with words and such and asking you how you dealt with it. truth be told it took a while for you to get used to but soon enough you began to see the signs.

it was the way that every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he would tuck your feet back into bed. the way he spent a solid twenty minutes cleaning your phone screen, and with furrowed brows as he placed your new screen protector on, making sure there were no bubbles. it was when you opened his wallet that you saw all the notes you wrote him saved in one pocket of his shitty leather wallet that was begging to be put to rest. it's the way when you come home after a long night out with your friends he takes his time undressing you, removing and placing your jewelry carefully on your bedside table and making sure to gently take off your makeup and of course do your skincare routine that he has memeorized. when he goes out and he spots a little something with your favorite character on it he buys it immediately, not bothering to look at the price tag because the way your eyes would light up when he brought home the little gift was worth more than a billion dollars to him.

it was when on your third month anniversary when the two of you were still dating, while the two of you sat down on the booth next to each other at a restaurant he held your hand and squeezed it three times. signifying the words, i love you. he knew he loved you from the start but was scared it was too soon to say it and this was his silent way of telling you so. and you picked up on it quickly when he started to do it more often.

and on your wedding day, as the two of you stand in front of all your loved ones and the officiator he says the most beautiful vows ever, telling you that "if death do us part then i hope to find you in every lifetime" and once he ended with that sentence, he squeezed your hand three times. i. love. you.

you always knew your husband loved you because his actions spoke a thousand words to you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

sigh. TSUKISHIMA FREAKING KEI!!!!!!!!, akaashi keiji (he writes notes back to you), KITA. SHINSUKE., iwaizumi hajime (30) athletic trainer, suna rintarou, USHIJIMA, kageyama tobio (squeezed your hand a lot when you started dating), MIYA OSAMU, sakusa kiyoomi, OH OH OH AONE!!,

[dearru]

i think osamu is the type of husband who has a series on tiktok titled “cooking for my spouse so they don’t divorce me” and i think that’s beautiful

[xoxojisu]

"YOU'RE PREGNANT?!"

synopsis: you're pregnant with osamu's baby! you need to break the news to atsumu, but he somehow spoils it.. for himself?

notes: afab reader if that wasn't obvious

you and osamu had rehearsed this like three times on the drive over.

well, you rehearsed it. osamu just kept nodding and saying, “he’s gonna be loud either way,” which… yeah, fair. but this was a big deal! atsumu may have been chaos incarnate, but he was still osamu's twin brother, and you both wanted him to be one of the first to know!

so here you were, sitting in a booth at a quiet ramen place, the twins across from each other like always, bickering over toppings like they weren’t in their thirties.

“who the hell puts corn in ramen?” atsumu griped, making a face.

“people with good taste,” osamu muttered, not bothering to even look up from his bowl in favor of continuing eating. "corn in ramen's tasty. it's sweet and crunchy and buttery. yer just not refined enough to get it. got the taste buds of a toddler."

"it's actually pretty good! osamu put me on." you chimed in.

“he look like he is the corn in ramen,” atsumu grumbled. “fuckin' fatass. what, ya pregnant?”

you froze.

osamu froze.

atsumu… kept eating.

you and osamu turned to each other in perfect sync, wide-eyed, identical expressions of did he just..? before you could even stop yourself, you blurted:

“how’d you know?!”

atsumu blinked. “huh?”

osamu reached over to hit atsumu on the head with his chopsticks, not saying anything, just staring at him in disbelief.

"wait, what?" atsumu said, "hold on-"

"is twin telepathy actually real?! holy shit! samu, why didn't you tell me that he could fucking read your mind?"

“i- huh? what? wait,” atsumu stuttered, eyes darting between you two, hands raised in shock. “you thought i meant you-” he pointed at you. “you’re pregnant?!”

you nodded slowly, still stunned. “we were literally about to tell you.”

atsumu opened his mouth. closed it. opened it again. “what the hell, i.. i was callin’ him fat!”

“i’m not fat,” osamu hissed. “i’m-”

“i was makin’ fun of him! i didn’t think i had mind-readin’ powers! holy shit!”

“well clearly you do!” you exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “you just predicted a whole pregnancy announcement! twin telepathy is real!”

atsumu leaned back in the booth, looking like he just got hit with a volleyball straight to the face.

“yer seriously- like, for real- like- like, actually pregnant?”

you nodded again, this time with a soft smile. “yeah. just a couple months.”

atsumu stared for another beat before his face completely split into the biggest, brightest grin you’d ever seen.

“no freakin’ way! i’m gonna be a uncle?!” he launched halfway across the table, practically knocking over a bowl in the process. “holy shit, i was jokin’! samu, ya really did it, ya old sap!”

osamu groaned as atsumu pulled him into a squeeze. “let go of me.”

“never! i’m gonna tell everyone!”

“you’re not.”

you laughed, the moment finally settling into the warm, chaotic joy you’d expected from the start.

atsumu finally let go, eyes still sparkling. “i can’t believe i called it. like—psychic level. maybe i should open a side hustle. chicks would pay big money for a hot guy to read their fortune.”

osamu looked at you. “i told ya he’d be loud.”

you grinned. “he was also kinda perfect.”

“damn right i was,” atsumu said, already pulling out his phone. “now what’s the name gonna be? ‘tsumu’ is a gender-neutral option, just sayin’-”

osamu reached across the table and finally flicked him on the forehead.

later, after the chaos had simmered down and the three of you stepped out into the evening air, atsumu was quiet in that rare way that made you glance over to make sure he was okay.

you were halfway to your cars when he slowed beside you. “so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you, uh… got any pictures yet? like, baby ones?”

you smiled and pulled out your phone. “only one so far. first ultrasound.”

you handed it over and he took it a little too carefully, like he was afraid to drop it. the black-and-white image flickered faintly on the screen, and he just… stared.

he didn’t smile. didn’t joke. he looked at that tiny shape like it was the most real thing in the world. like it had just hit him, really hit him what this meant.

“that’s… them?” he asked, voice quiet.

you nodded. “yeah. that’s your niece or nephew.”

atsumu blinked. “they’re so small.”

you and osamu glanced at each other—your heart a little full, his eyes a little softer than usual.

then atsumu looked up, meeting your gaze. “thanks for tellin’ me. first, i mean. that you wanted me to know first.” he cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. “i’m… real happy for you guys. both of ya.”

“you’re gonna be an amazing uncle,” you said, nudging him gently.

he gave a little laugh. “yeah? little corn junior?”

“no,” osamu said flatly. “absolutely not.”

but you were smiling, and so was atsumu, and osamu had that small, quiet look he only ever got when he was really, truly happy.

atsumu looked back at the photo one more time. then, without a word, he stepped forward and hugged you. not a joking one. not a one-arm squeeze. a real one.

“i’m proud of you,” he mumbled. "this is crazy."

you hugged him back. “we love you, ‘tsumu.”

osamu snorted beside you. “gettin’ soft in your old age.”

“shut it, old man. i’m still prettier.”

they started bickering again as you all walked down the street—arguing over who had better genes and whether the baby would inherit osamu’s cooking or atsumu’s hair.

you stayed a step behind for just a moment. hand resting over your stomach. heart full.

this little one was already so loved.

..and also so doomed to a life of chaos.

but mostly? so, so loved.

masterlist

[wake-uptoreality]

"Should i tattoo your name on my chest?" He murmurs as you both are laying in bed, you between his thighs as he has his arm wrapped around your waist. he moves his lips up and down on your neck, lightly teasing your skin. "Ahn...why would you want that?...besides...it could hurt you..." you say a bit concerned by his sentence, but when you see his firey gaze in his eyes...you close and open your mouth like a fish..."are you really serious?" "I just want a piece of you with me. It would show that I belong only to you. I will feel so proud wearing your name every time, princess...and your name is most beautiful and unique one...I, myself will feel special just by having it on my chest...after all...gosh...i am so obsessed...y/n...y/n...just by saying it drives me insane, princess" he says hoarsly as his pupils are dilated...he grabs your hand and puts it on his muscular chest..."you will be in here always"

-> DAICHI, osamu, IWAIZUMI, hinata, USHIJIMA, kenma, AKAASHI, suna.

[bokutoko]

OSAMU didn’t really have a favorite color.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

masterlist | navigation

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

[ohgodthevoices]

going crazy over how husband material osamu is, hear me ouuutttt

tags : fluff, time-skip, f!reader, tattoo , he listens to, he cares , and he cook , i’m thirsting m sorry

osamu would be the type of bestfriend that knows damn well you want him bad but keeps on teasing you and acting clueless just to see how far you can go before you crack

as childhood friends, it was normal for you to be touchy and generally comfortable with each other but it raised his suspicions when you now looked away when he was topless around you. it’s not like you were uncomfortable with it ?

you’ve basically lived your whole life with the miyas, you’ve seen osamu wet the bed as a kid, get rejected by his middle school crush you’ve even witnessed him putting his hand in his pants and scratch his butt, seeing him topless in the comfort of his apartment was a casual thing so why the hell would you look away , did he lose his shape ? no, he still worked out frequently even if he’s not an athlete anymore…

either way osamu always took care for you, he was always so careful when it comes to you , sure he’d playfully hit you here and there but it was nothing you couldn’t handle

just imagine him cooking you a nice heart-warming meal, glancing at you every now and then while you’re sitting on the counter looking like a mess after a long exhausting day , wine glass in hand and rambling your worries away. it really became a ritual for you to swing by his place unannounced after a bad day.

he’d open the door with his signature lazy smile “ya had a bad day?” you finally let you shoulders relax “long story..” he steps back, inviting you in “i got time”.

sometimes osamu gets this weird feeling he can’t explain when he realizes he’s seen you grow into a real woman, it really freaked him tf out when you told him you had your first time with some boy he never heard the name of.

he scolds you after a bad decision for sure , but he’s always there to comfort you right after. SO imagine his surprise when during a drunken confession after you finally listened to him and dumped your toxic bf, you admit to him between sobs that broke his heart into pieces

“why can’t i find a guy that actually likes me—?” your face was buried in his now wet tshirt , his strong arms holding you tight as if they were gonna protect you from feeling hurt, your words were muffled, melting together “why can’t i find someone like you samu…im so jealous of the girl that’s gonna be yours” holy fucking shit how was he so blind to never realize this…

thank god that night was complete blurry in your mind , so when you woke up the day completely hung over and found your beloved best friend making you breakfast with a bed hair and his sleeves rolled up showing off his forearms that you find really hot for some reason , your slight blush was explained.

omfg the day he showed up to your workplace during his break with a well crafted lunch box he made full of delicious onigiris because he listens and he remembers that your annoying coworker kept flaunting her relationship to you and it pissed you off and you wanted to show her that you can pull too

ever since he realized the power he had over you, he wouldn’t stop just picking at you and seeing how far he can go, he was basically testing the waters by stretching until his shirt lifts up, hold eye contact for a lil longer than what he should, and how he praises you don’t get me startedddd

“yer actually pretty decent at this” when you cook dinner with him, “look at ya bein all confident and independent !” when you actually tell the waiter they got your order wrong, “yer pretty distractin’ yk that? that’s kinda dangerous.”

osamu was a pretty touchy guy, not overly cuddly or anything but he did enjoy proximity, he’d usually hold your wrist when passing crowds but for some reason he now held your waist, his touch gentle yet firm on you. istg his hand placement is impeccable

there’s just something about him keeping a hair tie on his wrist for you that’s so endearing, so caring and attentive to your lil daily struggles.

it all happened when you got your first tattoo, he had sent you to his friend whom he deemed good enough to ink your body. he was nervous and excited as if he was the one getting tattooed but that’s mostly because you wanted to keep it a mystery, he knew that when he came home after closing the shop he’d find you there already.

there was just something so intimate about him coming back from work and finding you already at his place , he liked it, he could get use to it.

“ ‘m here !” he yelled out closing the door behind him , analyzing you from head to toe as you pop infront of him with his tshirt and shorts on displaying an almost mischievous smile, his eyebrows creasing as he doesn’t see any trace of a tattoo on your arms or legs, maybe it was on your shoulders?

he plopped down on his couch , man spreading “soo… are ya gonna show me or ?” you happily turn to the side, his eyes widen as you lift up the shirt enough to reveal a sideboob tattoo. he sits up the shock visible on his face “holy shit cmere” you obey him , getting closer for him to get a better look. with a swift motion his arm was now around your hip , pushing you to sit on one of his legs

he clearly recognized his friend’s intricate style, the design cupping the side of your boob, he wanted to admire his work but damn he felt a lil jealous that he worked so close to you. he finally looked at you only now noticing your reddish face

his face was just inches from yours, his previously shocked expression fading as he met your eyes. he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your jaw, and for a split second, everything around you felt quiet, just the two of you in that small space. he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though, breaking the tension as he nudged you lightly

“didn’t know you had it in ya to do somethin’ like that” he whispered.

before you could answer, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, gently pulling you in. his lips brushed yours, just a soft, teasing touch, before pulling back slightly with that same smirk. “couldn’t resist,” he muttered under his breath, and this time, when he kissed you again, it was longer, deeper—no more teasing, just the feeling of the moment taking over.

i’m currently such a sucker for time skip osamu he’s all i’m thinking about

[kitasuno]

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

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

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He meets you for the first time in February. 

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

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

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

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

He sees you a lot the year after. 

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

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

Osamu means To Rule.

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

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

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[iwaaizoomies]

osamu fucks you on call

osamu miya, owner of a popular onigiri store, has got a thing for the newly employed cashier— you.

you show up to work in tight little tops that do nothing to shield your body from his imagination: he wonders just how tight you are down there.

with a store as small as his, 2 workers are more than enough to conquer rush hour. no way it’s intentional when he goes behind you and “sorry— just have to get something,” neither of you say anything about the hard outline of his dick that pulses against your clothed pussy.

it takes 2 weeks for him to fold. his brother thought it’d take shorter but the fact that your toxic boyfriend decided to cheat on you now out of all time, he can’t help but thank god.

“come on, baby, pick up the phone,” osamu teases, his cock rips into you, leaking pre-cum as he bends you over the cashier counter.

the store closed an hour ago. an hour ago, he overheard your ex greeting you at the door with insults and degradation that you don’t deserve. now, “let him see just how gorgeous you look when i cum inside you, doll, go on.”

your trembling fingers somehow manage to land on the green receiving button, and the reaction is immediate— the caller begins to speak, but before the entire word can be finished, he pauses— osamu smiles wider at his expression: mouth open like a goldfish, eyebrows slowly drawing up in disbelief. “what the fuck are you doing?” he asks, tell-tale anger evident in his voice. “fuck—! o—osamu i’m gonna cum!” you don’t really register who you’re talking to, but he chuckles, pace rampaging up until you turn into a crying, shaking mess below him, orgasm no doubt following, he picks up the phone, hips thrusting roughly until even your ex can hear how it echoes in the empty stall, “i’m gonna put a baby in her.”

[quirrrky]

I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, AND ALL THESE LITTLE THINGS •✦ haikyuu

KUROO, KENMA, IWAIZUMI, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, KITA, ATSUMU, OSAMU and the little things that matter the greatest when you're with them

≡ NOTE ⋮ single as a pringle but I want my future relationship to be like this ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ these boys make me fall in love hard

KUROO TETSUROU

It's the way he always stays beside you even though you're both doing different things. He'll rest his head against your arm as you type on your laptop/computer and he was on his phone, browsing for some random meme or nerd stuff. From time to time, Tetsu will show you some funny posts he'll come across just so you can laugh at it together. When he feels the urge, he'll plant a random kiss on your shoulder; and if he still can't get enough, he'll steal a kiss on your lips and who knows it might turn into something more. There are times when he's feeling extra so cuddly and will rub his cheek against your arm like he's your cat in human form, then he'll feel drowsy and fall asleep.

It can go the other way around too when you're caged in his arms with your attention on your phone and his on the TV. He'll nuzzle his nose on top of your head and you'll squeeze tight against his chest, just shrouded with his warmth and scent.

He doesn't have the perfect family growing up. He's awakened to the the impermanence of things a little too early that's why just by having you beside him is more than enough. Just the simplicity of basking in each other's presence—cherishing all the time you get to spend with each other no matter how mundane.

KENMA KOZUME

It's when he treasures every memory with you no matter how small. Kenma will sneakily take pictures of you whenever you're just simply eating fries, you're busy doing work, or crying over a tearjerking scene in a movie. That one time you looked so beautiful as you attend a party with him, the one when you are slightly snoring in your sleep and even when you have your mouth full as you munch on your favorite food, he has an album of all those. He has even created a private Instagram account with photos and videos of you alone and of the two of you as a couple.

Sometimes you will catch him smiling while tinkering on his phone and you just think he's playing a game, but little did you know that he is editing a video of you and the both of you.

He has been content being all by himself yet when you've come along, his world begins to be more colorful. It's like he's playing Pokemon but the one he's catching will always be you and your cute reactions, keeping every bits and pieces of your presence in his life as the greatest gameplay he doesn't want to be over.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

It's how he wakes you up each morning. Hajime is always the early riser. Set aside the times when he'll surprise you with a breakfast in bed or the instances when you're running late, he'll nag at you so you can get your lazy ass up from bed.

What you treasure the most is whenever you find your head resting against his chest as he fidgets with the strands of your hair. The beating of his heart against your ear is like a sweet welcome in the morning.

Also, the times when you'll wake up to him watching you sleep. His gaze is full of adoration and filled with emotions unspoken. The way his eyes will crinkle in his smile as he say, "Good morning." You feel so lucky to wake up beside this man. Just seeing him you look at you like that makes you grateful of each waking day, getting another chance to spend it with him. You want to freeze the moment, wishing for it not to end anytime soon. Just you and him before the world.

OIKAWA TOORU

It's the pillowtalk you have before going to sleep. How you reminisce the first time you meet each other and how far you've come together. The sparkle in his eyes as he recall how much more beautiful you have become and stronger you have been, growing into the wondeful person you are today. His eyes convey so much fondness and love that they beam even at the dimness of your room. There's also something so special with the way he caresses the side of your facewith the backnof his hand as if he's trying to bury each dip and line of your feature.

You'll dissect your emotions together, the good and the bad. You'll both cry at the sad moments, embrace each other through the hurt and laugh at the silliest and most embarassing memories.

Tooru has always been seeking for external validation, seeing achievement as the metric for his success yet with you it's just so simple. You're all he needs to be fulfilled. With you, it's just so easy. and sharing every moment with you, every loss, every victory, is something he will never ever trade for anything else. For, despite everything, he has finally found the safe space he can come home to at the ebd of each day.

AKAASHI KEIJI

It's when he doesn't want to let go of your hand. Keiji has always been a gentleman, but he won't let anyone break your handhold whenever you stroll outside. He'll always have your hand in his never breaking away. His hold is tight and gentle, expressing how protective he is of you. His thumb usually carresses the back of your knuckles so sweetly and he'll occasionally whisper a kiss like you're his treasured princess. When it's cold, he'll slip your linked fingers inside his coat. Sometimes, he'll gently breathe out against your hand if he notices you freezing. Whenever your handhold will break, he immediately seeks out for you. He'll stop walking just so you can come back in his grasp again.

He has gained a habit of playing with your dainty fingers idly too. Sometimes, it can catch people's attention just by the sheer intimacy of it yet he isn't aware.

Even when you're alone and at home, he still reaches out for your hand. He has you in a tender hold as you watch your favorite show or eat dinner. There are times you'll wake up with your fingers interlocked with each other and it gives you so much comfort. Comfort in knowing you have someone to hold on to for the rest of your life and you know you'll never ever let him go too.

KITA SHINSUKE

It's the way he cares for you like no one else does. Shinsuke will always see that you have eaten enough and at the right time. You can't skip a meal when he's around. If you're busy and can't take a meal right away, he'll bring the food to you. Makes sure that you drink plenty of water and you sleep on time. He snatches your phone away when you take too much time with it even during late at night. When he's farming and you're at work, he takes time to call you during lunch, making sure that you are looking after yourself as much as he's looking after you.

He always checks the temperature outside and prepares the right outerwear for you so you won't catch a cold. Even if you have layers and layers of clothing over you, he'll still pull you close with an arm around your shoulder to keep you warm.

When it's raining, his priority is to get you under the umbrella. It doesn't matter if a part of himself is getting drenched as long as you are not.

He can be strict at times but he is easy to cave in and will allow you to eat your favorite junk food or sweet once you surprise him with a kiss.

Though he can be quite strict at times, he really wish you know how much you mean to him he doesn't want you to be harmed. Your hurt is his hurt and he just simply wants you to take care of yourself the way he cares so devotedly for you.

MIYA ATSUMU

It's because you're his perfect match. Tsumu often buys something in pair. People will see you wearing matching jackets, shirts and caps. You even have couple phone cases and wallpapers because of him. Whenever he has a new jersey, he'll give the extra to you so you can sometimes wear it together. He just loves seeing his clothes on you. You look so good in them that

Whenever he buys something in the grocery, he'll also buy one for you. If there's only ine pudding left, he'll share the other half of it with you. Always with you. He always has you in his mind and thinks of you as he thinks of himself.

Sometimes, he'll sacrifice what he has just so you can have it. He won't let you know about this, of course, but he wants you to feel that you have him as a partner, that he'll be with you in every step of the way and that he sees you as an extension of himself.

MIYA OSAMU

It's because he lets you mess up. Though it's obvious with the way he sweats and brows furrow, how he's so nervous with what the outcome could be, Samu will still let you take over his kitchen.

Normally, he doesn't allow any foreign hands on any of his kitchenware, but you are the only exception.

He'll let you use his non-stick skillet pan though he just bought it. He knows it won't come unscathed after your use but he still lends it to you and you know it so well. Instead of getting angry at you, he just laughs at your mistakes, carressing the top of your head and giving you a sweet kiss. He's aware that you're trying your best to impress him even if he is constantly reminding you that he doesn't mind making breakfast, lunch and dinner for you for the rest of your life.

Most importantly, you can mess up his brand new skillet or even his whole kitchen. He can always get another one again but he cannot get another one of you.

@pixelcafe-network

[megapteraurelia]

nom nom.

“i’m gonna need my fingers back.” 

miya osamu stared at you blankly, though made no move to remove his digits. 

your tongue swirled around the tips of his fingers, teeth digging into his flesh lightly, but with enough pressure to make him give you a long look. one that made you slightly open your mouth to allow him to take his hand back. 

“spoilsport,” you pouted, “it’s not my fault you taste delicious.”

“yeah, yeah,” he hummed non-committedly, washing his fingers before going back to preparing food, wrapping another rice ball in a strip of nori. 

osamu was careful and painstaking while handling the food, brows slightly furrowed in concentration, lips slightly pressed together. 

he set down the finished food and made a second one with just as much care, just as much love, just as much attention to detail, and you watched him scuttle around the kitchen as your legs swung back and forth, heels of your feet hitting the cabinet you were sitting on lightly and with a quiet thud.

when he settled next to you again, he finished up another rice ball before holding it out to you. delightfully, you leaned forward and popped it into your mouth, allowing the rice with the filling to melt in your mouth, your lips nipping at his fingers to catch the taste of the sweet vinegar from the rice.

“cheeky,” he narrowed his eyes at you, his hand retreating from your mouth to grip your jaw tight, squishing your cheeks together. osamu’s eyes flitted over your face, the puckered lips, the teasing glint in your eyes, one of your hands sneaking to grab another rice ball from the glass cutting board. 

but before you could grab anything, he had already intertwined his fingers with yours, tugging your hand away. a scolding raise of his eyebrows at your attempt, a huff at the butterflies that erupted in the chest when you winked at him in response.

“yer lucky,” he murmured, dipping his head to press a kiss to your pursed lips, “that i love ya somethin’ mad,” before letting go, allowing you to rub your jaw with a grin.

then, osamu sighed, met your knuckles with his lips before feeding you that stray rice ball you had been eyeing, too, though this time pulling away before you can mess with his fingers some more.

[kiyuhai]

Observant Osamu Miya, who knew you since elementary, and knew that you had foods you aren’t fond of. He knew that despite the fact you eat whatever is on your plate, courtesy of your parents’ upbringing, you would wince and try to ignore the lingering taste of the vegetable you particularly dislike.

Observant Osamu Miya, who told you that you didn’t have to eat the food you don’t like. You just said that it's ingrained in you, so you still eat what's on your plate. 

Observant Osamu Miya, who, after that day,  made sure that the food made whenever you come around at their house or the food he brings over, doesn’t have the foods you don’t like. Atsumu called it favoritism, he called it caring for you. Besides, even at the young age of 8 Osamu liked seeing your smile when you eat.

Observant Osamu Miya, who started bringing you bento boxes during high school, carefully catered to your tastes. He made sure that the specific ingredient you dislike isn’t added in the dish. He makes sure that even if it was, its taste isn’t noticeable.

Observant Osamu Miya, who picks out the food you don't like out of your plate before giving it to you. Atsumu complains about favoritism (again), Osamu doesn’t bother correcting him.

Observant Osamu Miya, who loves seeing your smile when you eat foods you like.