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wordsofelie · 2 months ago

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Chapter 3

🌅Don’t you dare runaway (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change—Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing, Mention of Sex (the word is pronounced once)

Words count: 3.3k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8

It’s 4 a.m. when the alarm rings and the shrill melody is a relief to Osamu’s ears.

The man hasn’t been able to sleep a wink all night. First, he found the futon way too hot to his liking and in an attempt to cool down he tried to slide onto the tatami mat, but it turned out to be way too cold this time (if only he had someone pressed against him, maybe that could help find the perfect balance). Then, he remembered the words he told his brother—sure ‘Tsumu acted like a spoiled brat but ending the year angry at him left a weird bittersweet taste in his mouth (he wished he had someone he could express this feeling to, someone who would listen and reassure him.) And finally, finally, he couldn’t calm the rapid beats of his heart each time he remembered that only a small corridor was separating you from him (and if only that someone he needed was you, he thought dismissively somewhere between dusk and dawn).

So, when the alarm rings, even though it means waking up, driving another hour and a half and opening the restaurant, he is relieved.

Osamu can’t decipher whether you had a good sleep or not when he joins you in the kitchen a few minutes later.

You have a cup in your hands and you’re glancing at the window. He turns his face to where you’re looking. The snow has melted. The world outside is silent, untouched by the morning light.

“Hi.” You tell him calmly; he didn’t realise you had noticed his presence.

He smiles in response as you put your cup of tea away, “should we go?”

“After ya.”

His words make you laugh a little, you cover your mouth with your hand and answer, “It’s way too early but you’re already such a gentleman.”

“Always with ya.”

Osamu doesn’t know if it’s because he’s not fully awake (or asleep) but his voice comes out so seriously that you widen your eyes slightly and a faint red hue creeps across your cheeks, and to the tips of your ears. Your eye contact stops after a few seconds, but it’s more than enough to fill Osamu’s lungs with an air he had never quite breathed before. If it had lasted longer, the man is convinced he would have melted, like the snow, in an unfair way.

You both thank Grandma Yumie for her hospitality. She doesn’t hide her will to welcome you again any time of the year, at any hour of the day.

“Take care of each other.” She ends up saying. A quick glance at Osamu makes it's obvious that she specially addressed those words to him.

It’s so cold inside the car, Osamu doesn’t wait for your arms to shiver to give you his hoodie. A grin slips through your lips when you put it on and notice how big it is for you. Your eyes seem a little bit glassy not because you cried but because of the lack of sleep. You probably found the bed too cold or too hot just like him, Osamu concludes.

“Ya can sleep if ya want. I’ll try not to drive too fast.”

“Nah, I've got to keep you company. What a bad co-pilot I would make if I fell asleep.” You sound a little proud when you say that, he finds you cute.

“Co-pilot? Ya distract me most of the time.”

You straighten suddenly and frown, “What? How dare you-”

“Say bye to Oba-san.” He starts the engine and waves at the old lady who stayed by the door to watch you leave.

You click your tongue, “Shut up.”

The ride is, without surprise, quiet. It’s not the quiet of yesterday due to Osamu’s bad mood—it’s a comfortable quiet. The kind that seems to be in harmony with the nature outside who’s slowly awakening

Osamu drives mostly on instinct. He tries to think about the day coming ahead to keep his focus: first he needs to wash the rice, then he will cut the cucumbers, prepare the sauce… He enumerates the list in his head. It’s gonna be a long day, he realises.

He sighs loudly, the sound filling the otherwise silent car.

You’ve been so calm that Osamu starts to think you might’ve fallen asleep. He risks a glance at you, your head resting lightly against the window. The sight both distracts and grounds him.

Something inside his chest is warm.

Unknowingly, a new rhythm has settled in his heart. When did it start? Maybe it has always been like that with you (peaceful, obvious). It’s so pleasant, Osamu wouldn’t mind feeling it for the rest of his life.

“Osamu, stop.” You suddenly exclaim and in a split second the man, lost in thoughts, is brought down to earth.

He does stop on the roadside, and you get out of the car.

He’s confused, almost worried, at first, so he follows you but soon all his fears disappear.

“Look. The sun is rising. I’ve never seen the sky like that before.” Your amazement is that of a child, your voice is high, and you run to the edge of the cliff to get even closer to the panorama. Osamu sees your chest rise and fall as you take in the air, “It’s beautiful.”

Osamu blinks.

No, you’re beautiful, is the only thought running through his head. But honestly, when are you not? Although, he just notices it now.

A ray of sunlight falls perfectly on your face, and he wants to kiss you.

Fuck.

He really wants to kiss you. Irresistibly. Outrageously. Unconditionally so.

The background seems like a mere white noise to his ears. You’re telling him how pretty the view is again, but he doesn’t care. All seven wonders could stand in front of him but that would not satisfy his eyes compared to that sight of you, bathed in the sun.

Look away, look away, he tries to convince himself. Look at where she’s pointing. But it’s too late now. He’s mesmerised by the moves of your hair, captivated by the features of your face, he suddenly feels like he’s losing all sense of will but still, it feels good. It’s freeing him.

Because everything makes sense now.

The discomfort he feels when you call him “friend”, the desire to live in a house with you, the feeling of protection he constantly shows towards you, the new rhythm that his heart is beating to.

It’s because he is in love with you.

He wants to stop time and never go back to Osaka. He wants to stay there, watching you smile. Gosh, the sunrise looks so good on you, it’s probably becoming his favourite colour.

You catch him looking and smile, “by the way.” You start and he has to pinch his arm to refocus, “Happy New Year.”

On January 1st, at 5 a.m., Miya Osamu realises that the love of his life has been standing before him for a decade.

Atsumu has been waiting in front of Onigiri Miya for an hour.

The cold bites at his skin and seeps into his bones like a river entering a cave and flooding it. After avoiding death from fratricide, he is now convinced he will succumb to hypothermia.

He sits against the wall, hands deep in his pockets, seeking warmth. He curses himself for not bringing gloves (it’s always Osamu who remembers that kind of stuff). Maybe his fingers are going to freeze and break and fall—his career will be over soon, farewell National Team, goodbye Olympics.

When his brother’s car finally pulls up, he jumps.

“I’ve never been so happy to see ya.” He exclaims, eyes on the verge of tears. “How was yer ride? Ya must be tired. Can I do somethin’ to help?”

His eyes dart toward Osamu, and you can see the guilt written all over his face as he talks. But his twin only glowers at him before walking straight past him and opening the restaurant.

The older brother clears his throat and glances at you, clearly unsure of what to do.

You put your hand on his arm and suggest gently that he should get the rice bags from the car while you start cleaning the counter and getting the tables ready.

Atsumu hesitates for a moment before nodding, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah... alright.”

Inside the restaurant, Osamu watches you take off your shoes and pick up the broom. “Ya should go home and sleep,” he says quietly before taking a glimpse at the other man still outside, “both of ya.”

You shake your head and smile. “Don’t be stupid, Osamu. Atsumu and I are happy to help. We’ll sleep later. Right?”

Atsumu finally lumbers inside with the first bag of rice slung over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing, his brother remains unusually calm. There’s no yelling or anger—just silence. And for Atsumu, the silence is worse.

“What?- Oh yeah, of course, we’ll help. Ya don’t have to worry, go to yer kitchen and make us some good onigiri. Like always. ‘Cause yer a great chef, ya know. The best I should say. The best of the best.” Each sentence comes out more awkward than the previous and it takes everything in you not to laugh at how he stumbles over his words.

But Osamu only sighs in response before grabbing the rice bag from Atsumu.

Something about his attitude makes the blond twin uneasy. As he passes by you, he leans down and whispers into your ear, “D’ya think he’s still angry at me?”

“Maybe a little bit.” You say back, trying to keep your voice low. “But don’t worry, I’m sure it will be over soon if you help him today.”

Osamu glances over with furrowed brows, his eyes narrowing slightly as he catches you both whispering. “Yer helpin’ or not?” His voice is devoid of his usual teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah, comin’.”

Atsumu hurriedly runs back outside to finish the job.

You don’t see each other for the next few days. At first, Osamu thinks it’s for the better. He has been awfully busy since the beginning of the year—which has been a greater success than he had planned. He likes his job because of how different each day is. If a day is calm, the next can be swarming, if sometimes he takes the time to discuss with the workers who come for their lunchtime, another time he will enjoy the silence of the off-peak hour. He tries to innovate in what he makes depending on the seasonal products or fresh fish of the market. It’s never repetitive, always new.

He can say he is content with his job.

So, when the second week of January starts, he thinks he deserves to rest (and he probably needs to).

But he immediately regrets it when he finds himself unable to fall asleep. He closes the restaurant earlier than usual and goes to the konbini to buy that eggs and mayo sandwich he has been craving for months (Osamu prefers homecooked food but a little treat now and then is always welcomed). He gets home, lies down on his couch and turns on the TV. He learns about how Tibetan Sand Foxes like to prey on pikas (why do they look like Suna by the way? Suna, his former teammate, your ex, your first love, the guy who broke your heart, the only boy you ever dated, ever loved, ever had sex with-). His heart misses a beat. He immediately skips to the next channel. There’s a documentary about street food in Hong Kong, but only a few minutes in, he turns the TV off. This reminds him too much of work and tonight is supposed to be about anything but work. His life is dedicated to food now, and he won’t change anything about it, but at the same time, his brain needs a break from the one thing he knows best.

So, he grunts and lies down flat on his back, hands behind his neck.

He looks at the ceiling and tries to clear his mind. He thinks that resting like this will help his head wind down, but the more he tries to relax, the more his thoughts turn chaotic.

What are you doing right now? He wonders. You are in Aomori with Atsumu and the rest of the team. Perhaps you’re making a video with Bokuto or eating apple pie with Hinata (stop thinking about food ya moron). Is Sakusa near you? Are you talking to him? Looking at him? How does that make you feel? Maybe thinking about food is a better idea because Osamu suddenly feels his muscles tightening and a dull ache settles from his lower abdomen to his chest.

He hasn’t seen you often this week when work took you away, and that was fine—he was busy too. But these past few days, the empty space where your presence used to be felt bigger. It was like a silence he wasn’t used to, one that lingered too long after the noise of the day had died down.

Without realising it, his eyes close. His body, heavy with the fatigue he refuses to acknowledge, finally gives in.

When he wakes up, he is sitting on a chair, it’s stiff and uncomfortable. He blinks a few times to get used to the light.

“We’re going to the cafeteria, you’re coming?”

He doesn’t recognise Suna’s monotonous voice at first, but still, the middle blocker is here, standing in front of him. His hair is long, and he is wearing their high school uniform.

Osamu opens his mouth, once, twice, before looking around him. He is in his second-year classroom. He looks at his hands, there’s dry and bruised, from volleyball ?

“What yer doin’ here?” he says to no one at all.

Suna is gone.

When he turns around, you are with your ex-boyfriend.

“I love you.” He hears Suna say, “Be my girlfriend.”

Osamu wants to get up, but his body doesn’t move.

He knows something is irrational about the whole situation. First, he graduated from high school years ago, and then Suna would never confess in front of everyone.

However, there’s an urge inside of him to stop you from giving an answer. He wants to tell you to say no for you deserve better than Suna. Don’t choose him, choose me, he wants to tell you.

But he is glued to the chair.

“Fuck.” He groans before hitting his forehead on the table.

“Where’s Sakusa-san?” You finally reply.

Your voice is so soft, Osamu thinks you sound like peace in the middle of chaos.

He lifts his face and sees you. You’re taller and your cheeks are thinner, you don’t look like the teenager you once were. Suna has disappeared and you’re in Osaka’s gym.

The boy doesn’t look around this time to understand what he is doing here. Nothing makes sense anyway.

He knows he has to join you before Sakusa does.

“Wait.” He exclaims and starts running towards you. But you don’t hear him.

He shouts your name, perhaps his throat will ripe from screaming too loud. That doesn’t matter because he needs you to listen to him, “Sakusa doesn’t know ya can’t sleep if ya don’t have a cup of tea, black tea, not white, not green, but black. He doesn’t know ya prefer boiled eggs instead of poached and that yer tongue itches if ya eat the skin of peaches.” He has stopped running now and is almost out of breath, “Ya used to love spring, but ya don’t anymore, ‘cause ya have allergies and ya think summer is better because it’s the season of fireworks and festivals and… and-”

He wants to keep going but he is suddenly overwhelmed by all the things he knows about you (everything); and all the things he wants to learn about you (anything).

He sinks on his knees.

“I don’t know where we are and am so tired, but I love ya, I love ya, I love ya.”

There’s a sensation of greatness once the words have come out of his lips. It’s infinite and endless.

His eyes are directed to the polished floor. He sees tears falling on his hands and wetting his fingers.

You don’t answer and when he looks up, the scenery has changed again. He is on top of a mountain, sat on the grass. When he decides to stand up, he wonders where you are. Have you heard him? Or has he lost his chance to tell you how he feels?

A warm hand rests on his shoulder, “Osamu-kun.” It’s the feeble but gentle voice of his grandma, “For yer words to be heard, ya need to face the truth.”

“I should have realised I loved her sooner, in high school, I should have dated her, not Suna, not him, me.” There’s panic not only in his tone but in his heart. His hands start shaking.

“This is not about ya, this is about her.”

He doesn't listen to the old lady, “How am I supposed to forget her now? What should I do? Our friendship will be ruined because of me. Grandma’ I-I’m screwed.”

“Give her yer heart, fully.”

“But what if-”

“Son,” her voice is firmer now, “don’t you dare run away.”

The sun is rising when Osamu looks to his right. How is he supposed to spend a lifetime showing you how he feels when it took him a fraction of a second to fall in love with you ?

Loving you is crushingly beautiful but painfully right.

A loud noise resonates in his ears. Does it sound like keys? Or a door opening? Or footsteps?—

The moment that follows he cracks his eyes open.

“Don’t tell me ya were sleepin’?” Atsumu bursts into the living room. “We came back a day earlier. I'm hungry.”

“We?” Osamu asks. His eyelids are heavy with the weight of sleep and when he tries to sit, he feels his head spin.

“I brought apple pie.”

You appear in his field of vision and lean towards him. His heart beats differently now.

You smile with all your teeth, it’s brighter than the sunrise, and he finally realises that a few minutes ago he was dreaming (about you).

“Do you want to have a bite?” You ask him.

This isn’t supposed to happen, he thinks, his heart isn’t supposed to ache like that, he isn’t supposed to hate the stupid distance between you (a meter? Maybe less? Even a centimetre would be too much anyway). It’s ridiculous but he finds himself wanting to break it. But Osamu is not stupid, he can question everything, and analyse his feelings in every sense, he can’t hide it. Dream or not, whether you’re here or away for days, he’s madly in love with you. He will not need a third realisation to admit it, it’s clear that he wants you now.

“You look exhausted.”

There’s worry on your face as you frown. You’re about to put your hand on his forehead to take his temperature but his instinct orders him to avoid your touch, so he gets on his feet and goes to the kitchen.

“I really want to try that apple pie, I’ll put the oven on to warm it up.” He probably sounds fake but that’s the only escape he can think of. He doesn’t want to turn to you because your arms are probably crossed and lips turned into a pout (you always do that when you’re upset but Osamu finds it cute).

Once he’s far enough from you, his face starts to burn, he puts his hands on his cheeks as if it would make the flush go away.

He feels like a teenager crushing on his classmate.

But he can't run away anymore.

author notes: not a lot of action but a lot of feeling, what do you guys think?

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan, @sugacor3, @sunahsvt

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fiflerovium · 2 years ago

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WIP

Android Osamu, something I've been working on over the past few days. I'm not really one for mech so I'm new to drawing this. In love with the brain rot I've had over him

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#artists on tumblr #haikyū!!#msby imagines #miya osamu #osamu #osamu miya #hq osamu #osamu hq #haikyuu osamu #au #android

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saintlevrant · 1 year ago

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I know what you guys are waiting for, but enjoy some Dad!Osamu dad bod doodles in the meantime.

[Archived]

#he got them Hawaiian rolls on em fr #q.art #shitty art #my art attempts #artists on tumblr #hq art #haikyuu fanart #q 🦎#leaux needs help #haikyuu!!#miya osamu #osamu hq

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makkir0ll · 5 months ago

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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!!,

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morosluvbug · 3 months ago

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osamu miya who falls in love with a picky eater

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq fluff #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #hq x reader #x reader

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bokutoko · 3 months ago

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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.

like my work? check out my masterlist!

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

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caelivir · 3 months ago

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“are ya sure yer not dating (y/n)?” osamu suddenly asks his brother during a quiet lunch between the two of them.

atsumu chokes on the grains of rice in his mouth, coughing violently and punching his chest. when he finally settles down, he throws a glare at his brother. “what the hell, ‘samu?”

“that’s not an answer.” osamu continues to press.

“we’re not!” atsumu answers, picking up a piece of chicken katsu with his chopsticks. “i don’t like them like that. they don’t like me like that. we’re just friends.”

the bright red-pink of his ears speak otherwise. you see, osamu knows his twin better than he knows himself. he knows that whatever comes out of atsumu’s mouth is a load of crap. just friends? yeah fucking right.

osamu has never seen his brother look at anyone the way he looks at you, starlight and pure adoration swirling in his irises. he acts as if your every word were an earth-shaking prophecy sent by the heavens. his honey brown eyes stare, and he smiles so gently that it makes him sick.

friends aren’t touchy in the way you guys are. you hold each other’s hand like it’s nothing. with interlocked fingers, atsumu will trace his thumb down the back of your hand for no apparent reason. when you’re bored, you’ll take atsumu’s hand into your lap and play with it, bending his fingers, comparing hand sizes, and running a featherlight touch across the expanse of his palm to see if he’ll react.

osamu notices how you never miss the opportunity to find a seat on his brother’s lap. whether there are no seats of available or ten open ones, you will always choose atsumu. and it’s not like he’s complaining about it. in fact, osamu thinks that he waits for it because atsumu would never want to miss the chance to secure his arms around your waist and whisper into your ear amidst a loud conversation.

and you can’t forget the cuddles, and the hugs that linger longer than they should, and the way you’ll cup atsumu’s face, and the way you play with his piss blond hair.

you’re the one person atsumu lets wear his jersey to his game. he ensures you get the best seat to watch him play. osamu doesn’t miss the way his twin looks at you before every serve or the way you cheer the loudest when he scores an ace.

osamu doesn’t think that someone who “doesn’t like you” would be thinking about you every time they shop. “(y/n) likes this snack”. “(y/n) would love this shirt”. “oh hey, (y/n) showed me this”. “‘samu, should i buy this for (y/n)?”.

osamu has never seen two people so madly in love before. he doesn’t know how you guys haven’t realized it yet. and he can’t keep playing along because atsumu’s katsu looks really good right now.

“right…” osamu chooses to answer, dipping his chicken into the tonkatsu sauce. “i sure hope they’re gonna have fun on that date they have today.”

his brother’s chopsticks clatter onto the table before rolling onto the floor. the sight of atsumu’s open mouth filled with rice is unsightly, and osamu has to suppress his laugh.

“they didn’t tell you?” osamu raises an eyebrow.

“no?!” atsumu suddenly stands, slamming his palms into the table.

“yeah, i think they’re gonna leave soon.” osamu lies easily. there is no date. but of course, does ‘tsumu really need to know that?

the blond twin practically bolts away from the dining table and out of the house. when the door slams shut, osamu grins to himself, reaching for the unfinished plate in front of him.

“he can thank me later.”

atsumu brainrot never ends. something short and sweet bc school is kicking my ass.

#anime #manga #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #atsumu miya #osamu miya #miya twins #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #° ᡣ𐭩 set i: fics

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onnie-giri · 5 months ago

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STRIKE EM DOWN OSAMU !!

(if yall are wondering where this is from it's this collab:)

#haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu!! art #haikyuu fanart #miya atsumu #miya osamu #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #kuroo tetsurou

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lale-txt · 5 months ago

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❥ 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 ↳ 𝐰/ 𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐦𝐚, 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 & 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚

a/n: reader is gn! i started drafting those during one of the first sticky hot summer nights of the year, then forgot about it until this came over me once again like a fever, and now here we are. i love writing drabbles because they force you to really think about the chars, how you perceive them and how to nail their unique personalities in 200 words or less. anyway, this is my first time writing for HQ after the brainworms got me down bad and i had lots of fun! hope you'll enjoy them too ♡

word count: 1.3k

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 whines when you have the audacity to kick him back towards his end of the couch, catching your ankle and pulling you towards him in return, stubbornly ignoring your protests. Too hot to cuddle, my ass, he pouts, genuinely offended that you’d even consider that; when the only time Atsumu ever feels a sense of calm is when part of you touches him. Your hand playing with the shaved hair in the back of his neck, your leg hooked over his hipbone as you sprawl out in bed together, hell, even your icy cold feet shoved underneath his butt during winter. Something was missing when he couldn’t have your proximity. Yer so needy, Tsumu. So what if he was? He pulls you into his lap, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, hands tightening around your waist. His breath fanning over your skin, hot and cool against it. Atsumu takes, he demands, but with you he is pleading, silent for once. Just a little longer–dreaming, breathing you in, kissing till he feels you smiling against his lips.

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 wears his hair shorter now, back at its natural dark color, too. You helped him buzz it off during one of those sticky summer nights. Both of you in nothing but your underwear, Osamu sitting on the edge of the bathtub in your cramped bathroom. One hand of yours holding a razor and the other clamped over your mouth because you horribly messed up a setting and now he had a funny little edge in his hair, throwing you both in a laughing fit. It was your first summer together and Osamu couldn’t help but hope that there would be many more like this to come, with your bodies orbiting each other, unable to keep your hands off despite the heat and the sweat, the air heavy and electric and yet so light whenever he hears you laugh. Nothing beats the feeling of lifting you up on the kitchen counter and your eyes lingering on his hands, shaping a midnight snack for the both of you, getting drunk on stolen glances and kisses. There’s many metaphors for food and love and right now, Osamu can taste them all on the tip of your tongue.

𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐎 hasn’t even kicked his shoes off at the entrance yet and is already loosening his tie, before slender fingers work down button for button on his shirt. He hears you laugh about his demeanor from the other end of the hallway. How lucky, he thinks to himself. To have someone waiting for him at home, making even long work days during the most miserable summer heat bearable. His shirt has barely hit the floor and he’s already on you, caging you in with his arms and covering every inch of your skin he can reach in kisses, despite your giggling and feigned huffing over how sticky he is, sending him to shower first (as if you wouldn’t come right after him). Kuroo purrs when your hands tangle in his hair. In the end you always pull him back towards your lips again, swallowing every little quip and taunt like candy, sweet and syrupy in your mouth. It reminds him how he fell in love with you many summers ago, his heart ablaze ever since.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 is glued to the fan at this point. He even switched gaming from his desktop set-up to a handheld console, reluctantly admitting that his old house would heat up even more with his computer running at full blast. His expression really says it all when you approach him, silently pleading for cuddles. Kenma just can’t understand how anyone would seek someone else’s body heat when the sun outside was already doing a pretty good job in trying to end him. Still, he isn’t immune to your charms, never was (one time he mumbled something about your stats being way too high and how everything changed once he received a love buff of yours). When you hold out a popsicle as a means of bribery and blink at him with those damn soft eyes of yours, Kenma pauses his game and holds out his arms. He hums into the kiss you give him before sitting down in his lap, your lips tasting like ice cream and summer love. He rests his chin on your shoulder, face nuzzled against your neck, before he continues his game, letting you feed him the sweet cold treat. Summer might have become a little more bearable with you in his life–though he was already looking forward to many winters under the kotatsu with you.

𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 is squishing your cheeks together, his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth. Collecting evidence, but also wanting to feel your tongue poke out slightly against it, cheeky as ever. Just how could you eat the last ice cream in the freezer without him? He lets out an exaggerated huff, feigned indignation, both of you knowing he can never keep this up for too long–not when it comes to you. Oikawa leans down to kiss you, your face still in a tight grip, tasting the remains of the ice cream on your lips, as if you weren’t sweet enough already. Maybe he can be bribed for another kiss when you offer a midnight walk to the 7/11 down the street, promising to pay for a cool sweet treat to make it up to him. He had already forgotten what he was mad about the moment you leaned into the kiss, but he’ll never say no to a chance to hold your hand, even if it’s sticky with leftover ice cream and the summer heat. To Oikawa, love is stored in the mundane things, even if his love for you is anything but that.

𝐈𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈 is standing in the kitchen past midnight, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers while he roams the freezer for anything to help him cool down; even a pack of frozen peas would do. He feels a pang of guilt for having peeled away from you, your form pressed so tightly against him in his sleep, it almost gave him a heat stroke–for more reason than one. Everything is sticky and airless and Iwaizumi is sure that if he would have glanced at you even a minute longer, his heart might have just given out on him. All this love he holds for you, burning him up from the inside, like a fever. He lets out a long exhale when he presses an ice bag against the back of his neck, but it’s not that what causes a shiver down his spine; it’s two arms sneaking around his waist from behind, your sleepy voice mumbling out his name, your body melting into his again. The first kiss pressed on the side of your neck is an apology, the second one a promise. The third–to devour you.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 grumbles something about you being too sticky and sweaty, making a weak attempt to shove you back to your side of the bed, only to pull you back by your hips when you actually do leave some room between you. He can’t help it, you fit so perfectly in the curve of his body, your back pressed against his chest, one of his knees nudged between your legs, all tangled up. It’s the perfect position to plant kisses on the back of your neck, too. Kiyoomi loathes those hot summer nights in the concrete city. He’d rather be somewhere else with you, somewhere to breathe more easily through this heat. Maybe you should move to the countryside, yes. A small house with lots of green surrounding it. Less people and noise, just you and him. Yeah, he would like that. He kisses the back of your neck once more and takes a slow, deep inhale of your sweet scent, before sleep finally crawls upon him again. For now he’ll endure this heat, anything, as long as he can hold you in his arms like this–and have a cold shower with you in the morning, maybe.

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nekomanager · 1 year ago

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𖦹 f!reader, just rough unprotected sex

HE HURT HIMSELF while playing volleyball again and just like the usual, you kissed his wound before keeping the medicine kit. "This hurts too," he whined and you gulped when he brought your hand over the huge bulge of his gray sweatpants, dragging it along his waistband, which you didn't hesitate to pull down. Your eyes widened as his erect cock popped upright. Your tongue reflexively moistened your lips at the delicious sight of it.

"Would you give it a kiss too?" He whispered under a sleazy grin.

"Which lips do you want?" You breathed out and you surely saw him get a tad bigger.

He ran his curled finger over your lips and you anticipated sucking it, but he pulled away.

"Is this one ready?" He asked while the tip of his fingers rubbed your pussy over your panties like he's squeezing the juice out of you. "Fuck..." He hissed, seeing how quickly he made you feel aroused. "Just the sight of my cock and you're this wet."

"P-Please..." You begged as you rolled your hips against his touch.

He groaned in return unable to hold back any longer. Positioning yourself over his lap, he set aside your panties and aligned his cock on your entrance. Without hesitations, he pushed his hips upwards, penetrating you deep.

You moaned and he grunted. He didn't bother taking it slow and he slammed with endless speed, making you wrap your arms around his strong body. "W-Wait! Wait! I can't...take it!" You pleaded but he didn't budge, instead he got both of his palms on the surface of the bed, pushing himself up and down against you and showing you who's in control. You felt your inside heating up as his dick felt like tearing you apart yet it felt so good you're about to lose your mind. Your head swung back not bearing the intensity and soon, you let go of your hold of him, your back falling in bed. He hovered you, not letting go. With such force, he rammed into you finishing himself. You convulsed, cumming hard around him at the same time.

You both caught your breaths and he placed gentle kisses on your temple. "Does this hurt?" He asked, tenderly touching your pussy. "Do I have to give it a kiss?" He whispered and you knew you couldn't stop him. Your head started spiraling when he sucked you in, bringing you back in bliss again probably for the entire night.

—♡ kuroo, bokuto, oikawa, atsumu, lev, osamu, iwaizumi, ushijima, terushima, daichi, hirugami

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sun4r1nnity · 2 months ago

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miya osamu x reader drabble

osamu hates it when someone else is in the kitchen with him.

he personally thinks its a hassle and slows down the work when there are more than one person in the kitchen. whenever someone offers help, he immediately declines, insisting that he can do it on his own. one time he got super grumpy because atsumu is too stubborn to leave him alone in the kitchen and fucking up the chopped vegetables. thats why he prefers to cook alone.

you, however, he doesnt mind. not that he lets you help him though, but he needs to feel your presence in the kitchen, " 's moral support," he said. he lets you yap while hes cooking, and will give comments and reactions to your conversation. 'oh d'you know about that old lady two houses across?' , 'i think im actually good at cooking, 'm just lazy,' , 'can we go to the ramen diner some time? heard it was good,' , ''m getting fat if you keep feeding me with your cookings,' . you may be quite the conversationalist, but osamu enjoys listening to you.

miya osamu may not enjoy others in his kitchen space, but for you, he would make an exception. even if you poorly chop the ingredients or botch the sautéing by overheating, he'll let it slide.

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wordsofelie · 2 months ago

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Chapter 5

🌅Don’t you dare runaway (A Phoenix and Ashes Sequel)

Miya Osamu x f!reader

Summary: Miya Osamu thinks some things will never change—Atsumu will always be annoying; his Ma’s food will always be the best and you will always be his favourite sunrise.

Content Warnings: Timeskip Setting, Manga Spoilers, ex!Suna, Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Hurt

Words count: 3.3k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8

He is distancing himself from you.

There's no denying it, no other way to describe the situation. The days after your night out together, you text him more, but he takes ages to reply, and it’s usually short and detached responses. It stings every time your name pops up on his phone and he says nothing more than a few dismissive words.

A door is slowly closing between you two, but Osamu thinks it’s for the better. It's just a passing phase before your friendship returns to the way it was before (peaceful, obvious).

It breaks his heart one morning when you call him before work (it’s quite early but you know the restaurant is not open yet, so it’s the perfect time to have a chat with him). However, his responses are clipped.

“Am I interrupting something?” you ask when the call becomes more of a monologue than a discussion.

“Sorry,” he starts. “I’ve got a lot of work today.”

It’s Tuesday. You know his schedule, he knows that, and Tuesdays are the quietest days at the restaurant. He doesn’t even try to come up with a better excuse.

“Oh.” It’s a simple sound but he can sense the hurt in it. It makes him feel sick, almost as if a knife were twisting painfully inside him. “Call me when you have more time.”

He does call you back, but it’s not the same. His voice lacks warmth, the conversation feels forced. It’s as if he's putting up walls where there once were none. Again, Osamu might have underestimated you. You’re not naïve and you’re certainly not stupid. He can try lying and hiding the truth, you’ll eventually find out. It’s only a matter of days before the door gets double-locked, and bolted from the inside, shutting you out completely.

You still do spontaneous lunchtime visits at Onigiri Miya. And it’s harder for him to put a distance when you’re standing before him. But he must try, he tells himself. It’s only for the best, he’s doing that for you.

So, he avoids staying behind the counter to talk with you. He barely glances your way when he sets your plate in front of you and disappears into the kitchen.

The once-familiar space between you is now full of silence, an ache is growing in the places his absence touches.

One day, you ask if he wants to come to Nagano with you to ski.

“It’s almost the end of winter, if we don’t go now there won’t be any snow. You love snowboarding, right? Maybe you can teach me?”

You tell him about the cosy onsen you found with a beautiful view of Mount Yōtei. The whole program is planned, you would go snowshoeing, and eat soba noodles and the station is open at night so you could go ski after the sun goes down and—

But his answer is another deflection, “I can’t close the restaurant that long.”

“It’s just a weekend,” you argue gently. “You deserve a break Osamu. You haven’t taken a vacation in months. You’ll wear yourself out.”

He says nothing back; the pain in his chest intensifies.

“Did I do something wrong?” You mutter and he wants to tell you everything right then and there—to pour out the mess of emotions swirling inside him, the confusion, the longing. Because you look hurt and mad and confused; Osamu can’t bear to see those three expressions on your soft face. Especially if he’s the one causing them.

But instead, he shakes his head, eyes cast down. “Ya didn’t, I’m just busy.”

There’s a long pause before you speak again. Your throat seems tight when you tell him you’ll go home.

“I can drive ya.” He lifts his face, and behind his cap, he can see your features harden.

“Don’t bother.”

And just like that, you get out.

Osamu thought his attitude would help keep things the way they were. He’s just trying to protect your friendship, but perhaps pushing you away will lead to losing you entirely.

You’re not naïve nor stupid, but maybe he is.

Days pass, and his phone stays silent. You don’t stop by the restaurant during lunchtime. You don’t drop by his apartment in the evenings, and you don’t ask him to drive you home when you finish late anymore.

This is fine, Osamu tells himself when he realises your absence hurts more than expected.

Because soon it will be easier. He’ll forget about his dying heart, and you’ll forgive him for the wall he built.

It’s Friday night and the Jackals want to celebrate their last practice together before dedicating their time to the National Team and preparing for the upcoming Olympics. Naturally, Atsumu knows exactly where they should go.

And it’s Onigiri Miya.

When Osamu picks up the call from his brother, the latter asks him if they can come.

“Sure, when d’ya think ya’ll arrive?” The man asks, already mentally preparing for the influx of loud, hungry athletes.

“Actually…”

Osamu doesn’t need to be informed of more when he hears the unmistakable sound of Bokuto’s booming voice even before the door opens.

“SAM-SAM,” the outside hitter shouts with enthusiasm. “Hey! Hey! Hey! Gooood evening!”

Osamu barely has time to register Atsumu’s muffled laughter on the phone, the door swings open with Bokuto leading the charge, followed by Meian and the entire team of his brother.

“Is it true that you’re doing smoked salmon onigiri now?” Bokuto asks loudly, his eyes gleaming, “Can I have five of them?”

“Nagisa,” Osamu calls after his new employee, “Please get the table ready and take the orders. I’ll go preparin’ the starters.” He looks at him with a grin, “ya’ll see, after them, nothing will ever scare ya again.”

The young man gulps as if he had just been challenged by a final boss on a videogame. He glances at the players and wipes his sweaty hands on his apron.

“I’ll-I’ll do my best.” He says, voice almost shaking, and it makes Osamu want to burst into laughter.

Before going to the kitchen, he scans the room rapidly with his eyes, seeking a pretty face and a beautiful smile (you). But you’re not here. He doesn’t know if It’s a relief or a shame—either way, he needs to pretend he is okay, act as if his heart wasn’t wounded.

But then, Hinata says your name and you enter the shop.

You look his way after being greeted by your co-workers; he is already staring. You smile gently and it softens him.

Maybe you aren’t so mad at him, maybe you can be friends again?

When he turns to the kitchen, he doesn’t hear you behind him. It’s only when you put a box on the worktop that he notices your presence.

“I stopped by a bakery nearby, to buy cakes.” You explain quietly.

“Oh,” he replies, “ya didn’t have to.”

“That’s my line.” You chuckle and cross your arms.

He opens his mouth. His gaze is fighting to hold yours, but his mind is stronger and he ends up looking down at the floor.

“Thanks for having us. It’s a bit last minute, but the boys really wanted to do something tonight.”

He nods as a reply and the conversation stops here.

“Then,” you start with hesitation, “I’ll see you later.”

You turn to leave but right before you do, he exclaims, “Two sesame onigiri?”

There is some sort of doubt in his voice where there shouldn’t be because gosh, he knows those are your favourites. He’s made so much for you for the past years. Still, he’s acting with so much precaution tonight.

“Yes, please.”

“Osamu?” You say his name softly, “are we good?”

(Soon, we will, his mind informs him, his heart disagrees.)

This time he doesn’t look away when he acquiesces and a smile blooms on your face.

As soon as you are out of sight, he dips his hand in water and start shaping the rice.

It’s intense, serving 10 grown-up men. Osamu fears to see his young apprentice collapses before the end of the night. He tries to give him a hand with the service while taking care of the food.

“Osamu-san,” Nagisa tells him, a bit breathless, “I can take care of the-”

A loud sound echoes in the room when he drops a tray. You’re fast to help him and Osamu clean up the mess. Nagisa bows approximately a hundred times in shame, but you pat his shoulder and lean closer to his ear.

Your friend raises an eyebrow when he sees Nagisa looking his way with big eyes.

“I can’t believe Osamu-san did that.”

“Huh? Why did I do?” He asks, baffled.

“Nothing, nothing”, his employee quickly retreats, avoiding further explanation.

You smile shamelessly and with a teasing tone you recall, “Remember when you worked at Ramen Kazuya? You dropped three plates in your first week. I just told him that so he could feel better, you know.”

He groans before rolling his eyes, “Thought Mizusawa-san would kill me, but instead, he laughed.”

Osamu remembers that day clearly—once, twice, thrice, plates had shattered this week, broth splattered across the floor. His hands had trembled as he looked up, expecting the worst. But instead of scolding him, his former boss, had burst into hearty laughter, “Don’t worry about the plates, Osamu-kun”, he’d explained, wiping his hands on his apron. “It’s just glass. What matters is the people ya feed, not the dishes ya serve it on.”

It was that kind of wisdom that stuck with Osamu long after Mizusawa passed away three years ago. The old man believed food was more than just nourishment. “Food brings people together," he always said. “Never let a man starve, Osamu-kun. Whether it’s a stranger, a friend, or even yer own soul—feed them.”

When Mizusawa became sick and too weak to continue working, he’d entrusted the restaurant to Osamu, saying, “It’s your turn now. Make it yours.” The ramen shop had been his home, and one day, Osamu transformed it into Onigiri Miya. He often thinks of the man and hopes that if he were able to sit at one of his tables, he would eat his onigiri with pride.

Osamu blinks, returning to the present. He catches your eye, there’s a faint smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. For a second, it feels like the old days—like when you were just two friends sharing memories without any complications.

“He really was a good man,” you say. “He took you as his apprentice, taught you so much and he never stopped believing that you would be a great chef.”

“Ya’ve also believed in me…”, he whispers, the words slip out without him meaning to.

But then you frown slightly, and he realises his voice hasn’t reached you.

“What did you-”

“Bokuto’s callin' ya.” He cuts you short and your frown deepens. Confusion becomes disappointed and once again Osamu knows he hurt you.

You glance towards Bokuto, who’s waving eagerly for you to come. You sigh, though it’s clear the frustration isn’t directed at the outside hitter. No, it’s for Osamu.

“I really don’t understand what’s wrong with you…”

He clenches his fists.

It’s a carousel of constant push and pull between you two.

You are kind, he puts distance; you get upset, he offers you warmth.

Everything Osamu intends to do; he ends up doing the opposite. It’s like he can’t help but sabotage the connection that was once so effortless. He wants to let you in, but every time he tries, something holds him back. You no longer look at him now and it only adds to the knot tightening in his chest.

He’s about to lose his mind.

“’Samu!” Atsumu exclaims, slinging an arm over his brother’s shoulder. “Let’s have a drink.”

The setter doesn’t give him a choice, and, in an instant, Osamu finds himself confined between his twin and Meian (and that man is broad).

Three beers later, Osamu’s mind start to lose focus of the conversation. Meian is passionately arguing that girls with long hair are prettier, while Atsumu seems to disagree—or maybe it's the other way around. Honestly, Osamu doesn’t care. Types? Preferences? None of that has ever mattered much to him. Still, his tipsy mind toys with the idea, and for a moment, he wonders what his own type is.

What was his ex like?

He doesn't even remember that. And to tell the truth, he can't think of any other girl but you.

His gaze falls on you, and suddenly, the room feels smaller, his chest a little tighter.

You’re standing close to the counter, smiling with all your teeth. This time, you don’t catch him staring, probably because your eyes are directed to another man.

Osamu never craved anyone’s attention before now. It’s only normal that you get along with Atsumu’s teammates now that you work with them full-time as their communication manager, he would even say that he is happy to see you fulfilling yourself in your work. What he doesn’t like, though, is the proximity between you and Sakusa. Workmates don’t need to look at each other like that and touch each other arms (doesn’t the guy hate physical contact by the way?) Why are you laughing like he just said the joke of the year? Sakusa can’t be that funny, he tries to reassure himself. You’re probably just polite. You always are.

“-mu-san, Osamu-san?”

“Oh, Shoyo, sorry. You were sayin’?” Osamu clears his throat to come back to his senses.

“Can I get another set of onigiri?” The younger man grins.

“Smoked salmon?”

“Yes Sir.”

Osamu gets up to execute Hinata's request and doesn’t leave the kitchen after that. At first, he tells himself it’s to avoid further hurt, to spare himself from the sting of seeing you with Sakusa. But as the minutes pass, he realises that is mind can be awfully imaginative.

Staying hidden does nothing to quiet the storm in his mind, in fact, it makes everything worse.

His thoughts spiral to stupid scenarios. What are you two talking about? Are you closer to him now? Is Sakusa touching your hand when he should be the one doing so? His brain is running wild with images of fleeting glances, soft laughs, and whispers shared just out of his sight.

“I’ll tell ‘Samu we’re leavin’.” He hears his twin say. He doesn’t turn when he is bid goodbye.

“Yer okay, man? Should I wait for ya?” Atsumu takes a step closer, but Osamu just wants to brush him off, close the restaurant and go to bed.

“No, just go home, I’ll come later.”

The blond-haired man is about to do as told when you enter the kitchen.

“Atsumuu, do you think I should ask Kiyoomi out?” The words slip out before you can stop them. There’s excitement in your voice. It punches Osamu in the gut.

His hands still on the plate he is washing. His jaw tightens, and he doesn’t look at you.

“Oh, Osamu, you’re here…I-I wanted to say something to Atsumu.” You probably drank as much as him otherwise why would you be surprised to see Osamu in his own kitchen? And why would confess something like that to his brother? He’s not your best friend, he’s the one you should share secrets with, not Atsumu. And above all, you seem distracted. You take a step back, and don’t pay attention as your hand grazes a hot stove. Osamu reacts instantly, grabbing your arm with a sharp tug. “Watch out!” Osamu’s voice is harsher than he intended. “It’s fuckin’ burnin’, ya could’ve hurt yerself.”

“I didn’t see the-” “Sure, ya didn’t,” he snaps, cutting you harshly. “Why’re ya always so dense?”

(Dense to what? His feelings?)

Your eyes widen. “Why are you yelling at me?” Your voice wavers, but you stand your ground, and you pull away from him abruptly.

Osamu’s face twists with frustration, as if he’s struggling to find the right words. He mumbles something under his breath, but it’s too late. You’ve already stepped back, your defences up.

“Thanks for caring, Osamu, but I’m not a child,” you say coldly, grabbing your bag. “I don’t know what’s going on with you tonight, but don’t put it on me.”

A heavy silence invades the room and Atsumu finds it hard to to break it.

“That was harsh…” He ends up saying.

Osamu glowers at him, “I have nothin’ to say to ya.”

“Fine, if ya want to be alone.”

Everyone leaves, Osamu stays.

Tonight was supposed to be one step forward, it ended up being a thousand steps back.

It’s the end of winter, Osamu should be skiing with you right now if he didn’t turn you down, but instead he’s whipping the front of his shop. The night has been cold and windy, it has left a few frosted patches on the pavement.

But the sun is shining bright now, Spring is almost here and the frosted patches become water.

He hates this weather. Not completely cold, but not completely warm either. He doesn’t know if he should take his jumper off, but if he does, he’ll get sick and—

Osamu sighs before letting himself fall on a chair. It’s not even 8 a.m, and yet, he feels already way too tired. He looks down at his lap blankly.

“Hey.”

Kita’s silhouette hides him from the burning sun.

Osamu greets him back, a little bit surprised.

“Ya weren’t expectin’ me?” The older one says with a teasing smile.

“I-I was yes, I just didn’t hear ya arrive.” Osamu gets up, “let's get the rice.”

The next moment, the two men take out the bags from Kita’s car. The task helps Osamu’s mind ease a little. Simple moves like lifting and carrying calm his storming thoughts. He is thankful for Kita’s quietness and finds a strange comfort in the silence between them.

Before his former captain leaves, Osamu offers him a drink. They’re sitting outside the restaurant when Kita gives him news from the farm, “By the way, ‘Ba-chan says hi.”

“That's nice. Say thanks for me.”

Osamu feels the questioning gaze of Kita lingering on him, but his eyes remain directed to the glass in his hands.

Then, he says your name and the younger man immediately turns to him (it wasn’t hard for Kita to know how to get Osamu’s attention), “'ba-chan asked about her. She really enjoyed her company; she wonders when ya’ll come back.” He pauses for a second, “both of ya.”

For some reason, Osamu feels ashamed and guilty.

There’s a knot inside his throat, if he wants to untangle it, Osamu knows he has to spit it out.

So, he tells Kita everything. How he wished for your friendship to remain the same, how he tried to put a distance between you to protect that friendship, how he felt when he saw you with Sakusa last night and how let out his anger on you and hates himself for it.

“She talked back at you?”

“So what?” Osamu finds it strange that this is all his friend picks up on.

“I’m not an expert but from what I observed back when they were datin’, she never talked back at Suna.”

“Sure, she didn’t, he was her boyfriend, I’m just a friend.” Osamu grunts through his teeth.

“Mmh, just a friend, if you say so.” He mumbles.

Kita gets up, Osamu has always been taller than him, but this morning he feels incredibly small.

There’s a smile at the edge of Shinsuke’s lips, “I’ll come back next month for the delivery. I bet everyone’s already told ya, but ya need vacations. Yer not seein' clear right now and yer brain’s gonna switch off at some point.”

They exchange farewells, and as soon as Osamu is on his own again, he turns to looks at his shop and takes a deep inspiration.

“Good morning, Miya-kun.” An old lady from the neighbourhood greets him as she passes by, “yer closin’ the restaurant today?” She wonders when she sees him locking the door.

“Yes. I’ll be back next week.”

She smiles gently at him, “then, enjoy young man.”

He thanks her and doesn’t turn back as he settles into his car. He calls his mum once he has started the engine.

“Ma’,” he says, “Can I come home?”

author notes: our man is finally taking some holidays, everyone says thank you to kita

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @teyvatsunsets, @obibiwan, @sugacor3, @sunahsvt, @iluv-ace

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aciddrattboyy · 1 month ago

Text

(dont) kiss me thru the phone

you were pissed that your boyfriend cheated on you and then had the audacity to ghost you after you confronted him about it. what better way to get that anger out than fucking his best friend

suna x f!reader ☆ smut ☆ 2.3k cw: fingering, dirty talk(?), penetration, cheating(?), cucking, phone sex(?), exhibitionism(?) a/n: all those damn question marks bc i cant tell if it would technically count anywho i dont condone cheating but like if someone told me they fucked their cheating bf's bsf i wouldnt judge also sorry for the osamu slander i was never a big fan of the miya twins bc i was too focused on suna so im sorry if i offend any miya stans </3

☆

you were pissed. you were beyond pissed actually. yeah, you were sad of course when you found out your boyfriend osamu had been cheating on you with some cheerleader from a neighboring college. but you were furious now that osamu had decided to ghost you after telling him you wanted to talk it out. it was pathetic and you were utterly offended. you were also upset with yourself, having not been able to see any signs that you had been dating scum of the earth.

you know you couldve been the one to take the higher ground. just take his disappearance as the breakup and try to move on with the help of the people in your life that actually cared about you. but you just couldnt. he went low and you wanted to go much much lower.

knock knock knock

standing outside of suna’s townhome, you were growing a little nervous. there was a chance suna would push you away and go inform your cheating now ex-boyfriend. but you’ve seen the way suna looked at you. you weren’t stupid. everytime osamu dragged you to parties or hangouts with his friends suna always looked at you like he was fucking you with his eyes. you stood there, hands shoved in the pockets of your pajama pants as the cold night breeze swept over you.

your body stilled when he opened the door, bare torso on display while a pair of grey shorts hung loosely at his hips. you could smell the faint scent of weed seeping out of his house. his hair was messy in the best way, green eyes narrowed at you slightly. you couldnt deny that he was attractive. but when you were still a loyal and doting girlfriend, no one else seemed as hot as your boyfriend. but things were different now.

“hello?” sunas tone was indifferent, a bit raspy from whenever he was smoking. he craned his neck for just a moment, seeing if osamu was trailing behind somewhere.

“suna i know you want to fuck me,” you blurted out, earning equally wide eyes from the man before you. he choked on his own spit, turning his head as he coughed. your face felt like it was on fire and for a second you regretted ever coming here. “im sorry i-” he was quick to put up a finger, silently telling you to wait as he got himself together. clearing his throat, suna stood up a bit taller with skepticism written all over his face. his eyes once again scanned over the area.

“are you confronting me?” suna had absolutely no clue what was going on. he half expected osamu to jump out of the bushes and knock him up just for not denying it. but he would be a liar if he did. it was true. he did want to fuck you and knew he could do so much better than osamu. but of course he didnt make any moves with the bro-code and all.

“no im not,” you shook your head, sucking in a deep breath to try to calm yourself. “i have a um… proposal,” suna’s eyebrows quirked, the corners of his lips tugging into an intrigued smile. he crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe.

“well,” you grew self conscious now, rocking back on your heels as you stared at the doormat. “osamu cheated on me and is now ghosting me after i asked to talk about it and to be honest im really pissed,” suna had to manually keep his features stoic even though he was feeling a whirlwind of emotions. he was sad for you of course, no one wants to get cheated on. he was mad at osamu for cheating on someone like you. but there was also this sick sense of pride, that you came to him. suna always knew he could be better for you and now you were at his doorway. you took in another deep breath, getting ready to spew out the words before you could take them back. “i want you to call osamu because i think he’ll pick up… and if he does,” you took a hand out of your pocket, nervously running it through your hair. “if he does i’ll let you fuck me,”

the silence seemed to drag on forever. after your word vomit both you and suna had to take a moment to process the words you just said. you looked at sunas ever bland face and had no way of knowing what he was thinking.

“so,” suna started, not able to hide the smug smile on his face. “you want me to fuck you with osamu on the phone?” he watched as you nodded slowly and could feel his dick twitch in his shorts at the thought. he would effectively being ending their friendship if he did that and maybe others. but the thought of being inside you was oh so enticing. “thats a little kinky dont you think,” sunas smile only grew when he saw how flustered you were getting. it was almost hard to believe you came up with that idea.

“will you do it yes or no?” you asked instead of answering his question. because he was right. it did sound a bit kinky and you didnt feel like trying to make sense of it right now. suna did use words to answer, instead pushing off of the doorframe and motioning for you to head in. letting out a shuddery breath, you walked in. your heart was beating like crazy when suna closed the door behind you, turning on a warm lamp before flopping onto the couch. you took off your shoes, awkwardly standing by the doorway.

“so run this little plan of yours by me one more time,” he patted his hand on the cushion next to him, watching you with now hungry eyes. you sat on the edge of the couch, hands in your lap as you laid it all out on him. you wanted suna to call osamu and tell him he was fucking some random girl. you wanted to know if osamu would stay on the line. you wanted to know if he had any remorse for what he had done to you. you told suna you didnt want him to reveal it was you. that you would do the honors when you were ready. suna listened patiently, nodding along as the tent in his shorts grew with each word that left your pretty lips. “well if you want to do this we cant exactly fuck with you on the other side of the couch,”

excitement and anxiousness coursed through your veins when suna motioned for you to come sit on his lap. he wasnt trying to hide the obvious bulge in his shorts now and the size of it made you just a bit nervous. you straddled his lap with a shaky breath, looking down between the two of you as he called osamu. he put the phone on speaker, turning the volume all the way up and tossing it onto the cushion next to him.

his hands found their way to your hips as you both waited for osamu to answer, sliding them up and down your sides.

“hey whats up?”

your breath hitched in your throat when you heard his voice. anger once again rising up over the fact that he was going out of his way to ghost you but picked up the phone for his friend almost instantly.

“not much, got a pretty girl in my lap right now,” sunas tone made your body feel warm all over. he got bolder with his touches, his fingers playing with the hem of your loose fitting shirt. “said she was a freak ‘n wanted me to call you so you could listen,”

the laugh osamu let out was evil. you both could hear shuffling on his end while sunas hands moved further up.

“no shit really?”

you licked your now dry lips as suna slowly pulled your top off, a low whistling leaving his mouth as he eyed your boobs. he was quick to grab at them. one hand groping one boob softly while the other pulled and pinched at your nipple.

“yes really, shes got pretty tits,” he was quick to suck your now hardened nipple in his mouth, hips jerking under you. your breath grew ragged as you fought to stay quiet. you wanted osamu to hear you but you didnt want to be loud enough for him to know it was you just yet. he pulled off of your now wet nipple with a soft ‘pop’, his hands traveling down to grope your ass. “nice ass too,” he mused softly, looking at you with mischievous eyes as he grabbed onto the back of your thighs and gently laid you onto the couch.

you looked up at him with wide eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he slipped your pajama bottoms off. something flashed in his eyes when he saw the pretty lace panties you had on. he wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you but he decided against it for now.

“how wet is she,”

“ ‘m about to find out,” your face cringed at osamus words for just a second. because in the next, suna was smiling at you wickedly while he pulled your panties to the side. a low groan left sunas chest as he slid a finger over your already glistening folds. for a second, he forgot all about your plan, looking up at you with wide, lust filled eyes. “holy fuck youre soaked,” you turned your head away, face growing hot with embarrassment. but suna was quick to gently grab your chin, turning your face towards him once again. “keep your eyes on me,” he said softly, licking his lips as he lightly pressed his finger onto your clit.

the sound of shuffling on the other line was what brought suna back to the present and for a moment he felt a bit possessive, suddenly not wanting osamu to listen in anymore like a pervert. but he continued to play along.

“shes fucking beggin’ for it,” he said moreso to osamu as he slowly pushed a finger inside you. a soft hiss left his lips when he felt how tight you were, already clenching around him so well even if it was just one finger. at this point osamu wasn’t responding with words, his heavy breaths the only thing that could be heard. suna shrugged after a moment of waiting for a response, pressing a second finger inside your walls. you whined softly, eyelids fluttering as your hips twitched against him. he continued to work his fingers inside you, thumb rubbing over your clit in soft circles as the sounds of him fucking you with his fingers grew louder.

“oh fuck i can hear her,”

osamus voice was strained, no doubt affected by what he could hear over the phone. he was no doubt referring to the obscene noises coming from your dripping cunt while suna fucked his fingers into you.

soft whines and heavy pants were all you could manage out, afraid of giving it away too soon. your hips bucked up towards sunas hand as he worked you closer to an orgasm. his dick was straining uncomfortably against his shorts and he was growing impatient. “shes about to cum all over my hand,” suna breathed out, it was getting hard for him to pretend he was enjoying transcribing what he was doing to his cheating friend. he didnt even know if he could call osamu a friend anymore. there was silence on the other end and suna’s brows furrowed when he thought he heard osamu moan.

this was becoming harder for you to keep up, thighs trembling as you got closer and closer to release. you swore you were going to chew off your lip with how hard you were biting it. your eyes were screwed shut, hands clamping onto the couch and sunas arm. when he brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing tight circles and pressing into it, it didnt long for you to come undone around him, a strangled moan escaping you as your back arched off of the couch.

“fuck she sounds hot,”

“she is,” that flash of possessiveness punched through suna again as he continued to slowly fuck you through your orgasm. something snapped in suna when he could hear what could be nothing other than osamu jacking off. he hastily pulled his cock out of his shorts, laying your thighs over his. his breath was ragged at he ran his tip over your slit, a groan leaving his chest when he nudged at yout fluttering hole. you whimpered, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth.

suna was growing frustrated with each noise you suppressed, he desperately wanted to hear you. wanted to hear you get fucked on his dick. he grabbed onto your hips roughly, pushing inside you with a shaky moan. fortunately for him, you were also growing tired of forcing yourself to stay quiet. you wrapped your arms around sunas neck, pulling him flush against you. both of you moaned when he bottomed up and finally being able to hear you almost made suna cum right then.

but osamu ruined it, letting out a loud moan through the phone. suna, who had finally had enough, sat up and grabbed his phone.

“i’m fucking your girlfriend,”

“wait wha-”

he hung up, tossing the phone to the side and looking back at you. your eyes were wide as you watched, cunt still clenching around him. suna put his hands on your hips, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, earning a loud cry from you.

“fuck- ‘m glad thats over with,” he began rocking into you slowly, eyes glued onto the sight of his dick disappearing inside you. “now i can hear all your pretty noises,”

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated <3

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