#osamu miya the man that you are

[nobrain-onlysteven]

Timeskip Osamu Miya with compression sleeves got me feeling some type of way I ain’t even gonna lie

[emmyrosee]

EMMY NOW THAT I KNOW YOUVE WATCHED GMM. HEAR ME OUT. DAD!ATSUMU AND UNCLE!SAMU TRYING BREASTMILK AND HAVING THE SAME REACTION AS RHETT AND LINK.

FIRBDODNDOD NO BC THEY SEE YOU DAB AND LICK THE MILK OFF YOUR WRISTS AND COMPLETELY FREAK OUT

“Can you drink that?!”

“What does it taste like?”

“Why do you do that?”

“Is it warm?”

You snicker at all these questions and nudge the bottle towards atsumu, “taste it and find out, baby.”

And atsumu winces, but inevitably takes the warm bottle of milk in his hands, eyes flicking between you and Hisako and the bottle. “Are you sure this is safe to drink?”

“It’s breast milk for our baby, not rat poison,” you scoff. You make a grabby hand for it, “look, if you’re not going to try it, give it back so we can feed our child?”

“I’m gonna try it, but I need to work up the courage first.”

“You’re literally a professional athlete.”

“Here, can I try it?” Osamu asks, and while you nod, Atsumu looks at him incredulously.

“You’re asking me if you can try my wife’s breast milk?”

“It’s not like he’s suckling straight from the teat,” you giggle. “Just- here. Try it. It’ll bring you closer to your niece.”

Osamu dabs a little on his wrist as his brother did, and the twins look at each other before licking it off of their wrist, and you cackle as you watch their face go from curious to straight up disgusted.

“Ohhh dear god.”

“That’s vile.”

“That came out of you?!”

“Oh- that… that’s actually disgusting.”

“Babies got it bad, brother.”

“Is it expired?”

“You two are so dramatic,” you snicker, grabbing the bottle back and popping it in Hisako’s mouth. “It’s just breast milk.”

“Have you seen the way she cries for this stuff?” Atsumu says, shocked. “Babies have no taste buds, I’m going to start giving her protein shakes instead.”

“You absolutely will not be doing that, actually.”

[cherrysurf]

Folding clothes miya osamu

marriage, days off early mornings, fluff, osamu being a good husband. listen to foldin clothes by j cole guys.

words; 667

You and osamu got married a year ago in a courthouse on a whim. There was no official wedding since you two decided to get married at 19 before opening the shop at 20 all you two had to prove for the marriage was the undying love for each other and two silver bands that signified unity between the both of you, You’ve been living together and running miyas onigiri ever since that You guys had an apartment not too far off from the shop it was tiny but it was home, filled with various cards from family but mostly from atsumu and the places he had been while playing volleyball. The aesthetically pleasing wedding photos that were taken on your digital camera the day of the “wedding” when you two went out for dinner you wore a form fitting earthy green dress and, osamu wore or more specifically got forced to wear a black fitting long sleeve with black slacks. The picture was taken by the host that was serving you guys that evening it was you two flashing your rings kissing each other osamu told you that night when you got home that he’d give you a more proper wedding when the shop had been more established, you politely declined saying “i don’t care about a grand wedding samu i just wanted our life’s together to start as soon as possible” It was simply the truth. The love you had for him since the day you saw him it was like Some higher power had been saving you for each other like it was written out and set in stone—

which leads you to the present day. Since you’ve been holding down the fort at home and him at the shop it was his day off, he wasn’t aware of your schedule at home he woke up late-ish afternoon to find you napping on the couch and the house looking spotless. He felt bad so he looked around to see what he could help with until he spotted the basket of laundry that had yet to be folded “that’s my job today i guess” he said smiling because he’d to anything to take the weight off your shoulders, he prepared some cereal before he did the laundry he looked in the fridge to get out the oat milk. Before you even lived together he never would’ve thought to use oat milk on a daily basis but ever since being with you it had become the norm. It was comforting as much as he lived here. The house would be empty without you and all the traits you brought to the house that made it a home, he sat down on the other couch and turned on the tv volume on low and he played one of your favorite cheesy romcoms which once again would’ve never even laid eyes on if it wasn’t for you. The effect on his daily life that you had on him was insane but it’s all he wanted to be. Engulfed in your love to be one with you. Not just in holy matrimony, it was a meditation to him there’s nowhere else he needs to be expect right here with you, folding clothes, eating breakfast, catching up on your shows so you guys have something to talk about when you wake up, not that you guys ever run out of conversation anyways. Even if you guys didn’t speak it the house was filled with a warming presence—

and maybe it wasn’t typical to most guys for the man to help do tasks like this but he wanted to fold clothes for you, because if he can make life easier for you he should do it, because heaven only knows how much you’ve done that for him and he sees it’s the simple things, that say i love you. Not the countless dates or the many many things he’s bought you no. It was the simple and silent acts that counted.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated:p

[starrysamu]

inevitably.

osamu x reader

words are a little difficult for this set of roommates.

warnings: alcohol mention

“where … are you going?” 

the streetlight flickers through the window. you should close the blinds.

“out,” you say quietly, tugging at your skirt.

osamu pauses. “where?” 

you shrug, rolling your lips under your teeth. “downtown,” you mumble, then blurt - “i’m meeting kiyoko and yachi.” 

the tv hums. when harry met sally.

he nods, averting his eyes to the book in his lap. his rimmed glasses slide down the bridge of his nose. “you need me to drive you?” 

your stomach dips when he looks away. 

“no.” goosebumps line your skin. you shift on the balls of your feet. “i called an uber.” 

“okay,” he says and you watch his chest fall. “will you text me when you get there? and call me if you need a ride back?” 

why?

“i’ll be fine,” you say too quickly, too dismissively. “don’t stay up or anything.” you swallow hard, words thick and heavy from your tongue. 

when he says okay, a sliver of your hopes he doesn’t mean it. 

you turn to grab your keys off the counter and slide them into your bag. “night,” you call over your shoulder. 

when the door shuts, you lean against it for a moment - you tell yourself it’s because you’re still waiting for your uber, but you press a heavy hand against your chest and hope your heart rate comes back down.

“i thought you weren’t coming tonight,” yachi yells over the music. 

“things are weird at home,” you yell back. you don’t need to clarify that ‘things’ mean you and osamu have been weird at home. 

kiyoko bumps her shoulder with yours. “wait, catch me up.” 

“i don’t know,” you sigh defeatedly, head hanging. it’s true - you really didn’t know what was going on. maybe you need another drink before you can pull up the play-by-play in your mind. 

yachi beats you to it. “they finally kissed.” 

her voice carries louder than you had expected and you know it’s just because the music is too loud but it sure feels like she’s airing your dirty laundry to everyone and their mom at this club. 

kiyoko’s mouth hangs. “wait, why didn’t you tell me?” she yells back.

“we kissed the other night when he came home from his trip but we haven’t talked about it since.” 

your face burns at the admission, partly because you feel embarrassed to say it out loud and partly because you can still feel his lips, gentle and needy against your own. 

uninvited stills flash in your mind. his low-lidded gray eyes and flushed cheeks. your palms pressing against him, his arm burning against your waist. 

you exhale for a long, long moment. 

in your entire year and a half of living with him, you’d never seen him like that before, let alone even guess that this would happen. 

“i’ve been waiting,” yachi says giddily, “i’ve always been rooting for him.”

you down the rest of your glass. had you been playing the long con? had he been playing the long con? 

“so how was it?” kiyoko leans in, only a touch quieter than yachi a few minutes ago. 

really good. 

you’d do it again in a heartbeat. 

“good,” you mumble. “i need another drink.” 

yachi holds onto your arm when you move to get up. “not so fast, you have some more explaining to do. was it everything you thought it was going to be?” 

“that’s quite a dramatic question,” you say, suppressing a smile. “that’s a huge expectation for a man.” 

“but it’s osamu. it’s your roommate.” 

“that doesn’t make him any less of a man.” 

“that’s the point!” yachi says. 

“this is getting really confusing.” you bury your head in your hands, your muscles starting to loosen.

kiyoko slides a glass towards you and you reach for it like you’ve been parched for days. 

“so what now?” kiyoko asks gently, watching as you slump back against the booth. “you said things were weird at home.” 

they’re weird because this is new territory. they’re weird because maybe you’d been hoping for this, waiting for this, but now that it’s here, you don’t know what to do or how to act or what he’s thinking. 

“i’m not sure,” you say tiredly. “i feel like he’s avoiding … it.” 

you think about him offering to drive you and pick you up. 

your mind feels fuzzy when you hear yourself say, “shots, ladies?” 

you’re not much better at saying what’s on your mind, when you really think about it. 

you don’t come back home until you know you’ve sobered up.

the lamp in the corner of the living room is still on. 

osamu hasn’t moved very much, but instead of sitting upright, he’s stretched his legs out on the couch, head resting against the armrest. his book is shut, sitting on the coffee table next to the tv remote. 

he’s almost asleep. 

his drooping eyes lift when he hears you double lock the door. 

“hi,” you whisper. 

“hi,” he mumbles sleepily. “you have fun?” 

“yeah. why are you still up?” 

“i wasn’t sleepy.” 

“sure you weren’t.” 

“i really wasn’t.” 

“you were literally asleep when i walked in.” 

“i was literally awake.” 

you hum, setting your keys bag on the countertop. his eyes watch as you walk towards him. 

your skin burns. you want to look away - you want him to look away - when you say, “do you wanna talk?” 

“what an ominous opening statement.” his voice is just a notch louder. 

when he looks up to you expectantly, you squat in front of him, shins pressing against the bottom of the couch. he props himself up on his elbow, meeting you eye to eye. 

you look at him for a moment and watch the tips of his ears fade into pink. you fold your arms over your knees and nestle your chin in the crook.  

“hi again,” you finally whisper. 

his head tilts. you’re inches away, close enough to feel his warmth through the blankets. 

“hi again,” he whispers back, the corners of his lips lifting. 

you suck on your lower lip nervously. “i think,” you start slowly, “i hope the other night wasn’t a mistake.” 

it comes out as a question more than a statement. 

his pupils grow a fraction of an inch. “did you think it was?” 

“no,” you say too quickly. “i was hoping you didn’t think so. i don’t know. i’ve just been thinking. i just, we just haven’t talked about it since - ”

he waits for you to finish that thought, but you never do. 

“i think this is the first time we’ve both been home at the same time since then, right?” he asks softly, peering at your averted eyes. 

you frown. has it? have you just been in your head about it for the past 48 hours? surely you’d seen him at some point since then - you live together. 

he sweeps a finger along your hairline, gently tucking your loose strands behind your ear. 

“so,” he says, “what’d you think about?” 

you look at him through your eyelashes. you, you want to say. instead, you choose, “this is all very new to me.” 

“i can’t say i do this quite often with a roommate either.” 

“stop,” you grumble, lips losing to a laugh. “i mean, do you wanna do it then?” 

“do what?” he teases, his smile growing by the second. 

you roll your eyes and tilt your head back in frustration. you lose your balance and feel your weight fall back until osamu reaches for your elbows. 

“you still drunk?” 

“no,” you say hotly. “i sobered up before i came home.” 

“and why’s that?” 

“no reason,” you huff. “can you just answer my question?” 

his fingers are still gripping you tightly. he pulls you forward again, but instead of balancing you, you’re teetering on the balls of your feet. 

he leans forward, hands moving from your arm to your chin. when he’s only an inch away from you, he whispers, “can i kiss you?” 

before you can even finish saying yes, you’re pulled in quickly, his lips pressing against yours hard. fireworks set off in your gut, creeping up into your chest until you feel like your heart is going to burst. 

when he pulls away to breathe, you swipe your thumbs against his lips. 

“i got lipgloss all over you,” you mutter. 

he grins. “strawberries.” he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “does that answer your question?” 

[miya-rin]

here are some small osamu boyfriend headcanons

he likes to sit with his back against a radiator, there could be several places for him to sit on a sofa or chair but he was always choose the floor

he gets really into those cheesy sitcoms, absolutely loves them but denies it whenever someone (apart from you) brings them up

he really struggles with tying his shoe laces, he knows how to do it but they always end up looking really shitty and falling out

he only sleeps in boxers and socks, he needs to have socks on at all times cause feet disgust him

he has really weak nerves in his hands, he always washes up with boiling hot water cause he cant tell what the temperature actually is

hates milk chocolate, lovesss dark chocolate

^^ however, hes not a very big chocolate fan, he likes sweets more and his favourite are red vines - he argues with anyone and everyone that says twizzlers are better

his favourite holiday is valentines day because its pretty much the only day he gets to spend with just you and no one else

he always loses his airpods and makes you do the find my phones thing at least twice a day

in high school he had a very bad habit of staring, mostly at you but also anyone that was around you. you actually thought that he didnt like you at first because he would burn holes into the back of your head with the most bitchy look ever just his resting face. he also didnt speak to you which only made matters worse

he cleans when hes angry and its so funny cause he’ll just be cursing under his breath while walking around with a pretty pink little duster

his favourite crisps are cheese and onion flavoured, specifically the mccoys ones

his printer is never not being used. it was one of those purchases that you had to convince him for months to get so now he feels like it would have been a waste of money is he doesn’t constantly use it

every morning you come downstairs to see him sat down at the kitchen table with the worst bed head you could ever imagine, it suits him so much but he hates it as it “takes like an hour to tame”

all my haikyuu boyfriend headcanons!

thankyou for reading! i hope you liked it!

[honeekyuu]

OOPS THE LOVE$ICK UPDATE FOR TOMORROW GOT VAGUELY SPICY

[flyingwargle]

watch party for japan vs. argentina men’s volleyball match tonight @ 8 pm!

osamu doodles jerseys in the corner – his brother’s #11 and his boyfriend’s #20. he stands to admire the sandwich board, startling at the voice behind him. “not #18 fer aran? that’s disrespectful of ya.”

“kita-san!” he whirls around to greet him, bowing slightly. “i know, but i have a feelin’ if i don’t put ‘tsumu’s number, he’s gonna blame me fer givin’ him bad luck.”

kita’s smile is slight, amused. “an’ suna?”

“that’s my boyfriend that yer talkin’ ‘bout.”

“yes, yes, as if i’d forget. i’m comin’ by later, so save me a seat, please. let’s talk more then.”

he watches him continue along, likely to visit the other shops on the block, and then ducks back inside his restaurant. it’ll get busy, if the tokyo olympics set any precedent, especially with how vital this match will be. after losing to germany, they’ll need to win, and then perform well against usa. only then will they qualify for the quarterfinals.

inside, the decorations have changed. the jerseys on the wall, once msby and ejp, are now their olympic counterparts. although the photos still show onigiri miya’s humble beginnings, he added a few taken with the team, including one where they’re all holding his onigiri. it pained him being unable to watch any of their games live, but he wouldn’t change it for the business it gave him.

for the rest of the day, he and his staff work to serve their customers, fulfill takeout orders, and prepare for the watch party. about half an hour until eight o’clock, he tunes into the sports channel, where subtitles of analysts discussing japan’s performance and future odds appear on screen.

there are two tvs – one on a shelf over the bar and the other in the corner of the seating area. he has a tablet set up behind the counter to watch whenever there are orders, but the livestream is still on standby. he turns the screen off as the door opens. “welcome back, kita-san. ya want the usual?”

“yes, please.” he takes the empty seat directly across from him, the same where any of their friends would sit whenever they visit. “are ya expectin’ a full house?”

“yeah, it’s usually busy. i imagine it’ll get busier once japan qualifies.” osamu takes a handful of rice and begins molding it. “they’re under a lotta pressure. ‘tsumu was almost in tears when he called.” it hurt that he couldn’t physically be there, relegated to phone calls and video calls, but if listening helped air out frustrations, he’d gladly sacrifice his sleep.

“the world is expectin’ a lot from them after they placed second in the vnl,” kita agrees. “hopefully, they’ll be able ta get it together tonight.” the two of them watched their friends and family compete mere months ago, bringing their nation to the podium, and consequently, to the top of the world. it’s natural to assume it’ll happen again, but so far, it isn’t easy as it sounds.

the clock strikes eight, and the broadcast starts with official warm-ups. atsumu and kageyama are setting to their players at the net, jumping to spike. it changes to serves, the players taking turns to warm up. osamu watches suna, who spins his ball as part of his pre-serve routine, and then tosses it for a jump floater. it isn’t as fast as atsumu’s, nor as deadly as kageyama's, but it’s earned them aces in the past. he hopes it’ll happen again.

the teams line up to sing their countries’ national anthems. a solemn silence falls over the restaurant as everyone follows along, osamu included. the camera zooms in on their faces, strict with determination and focus. suna looks into the camera when he’s in frame, and osamu whispers a voiceless prayer to him.

atsumu is the starting setter, along with ushijima, sakusa, aran, suna, and hakuba. yaku is their libero. the others stand on the sidelines. “must be goin’ fer heavy hitters to blow past argentina’s blocks,” kita comments. osamu nods in agreement.

oikawa tooru is argentina’s starting setter. the whistle blows, and the match begins.

c’mon, guys. i know ya’ll can do it.

the first set doesn’t start off well. japan falls behind in the first half, falling short to argentina’s clean sets and spikes. hakuba is rotated to the back, and suna steps on, hands in front of him. he gets a hand on the spike, and sakusa receives it. atsumu sends it down the middle, suna jumping and rotating his torso to get around the block. japan gets the point.

his customers cheer. osamu hides a small fist pump under the counter. he shares a smile with kita. the commentators are just as excited as he is. “what an unbelievable spike from middle blocker suna rintarou! he’s known for his flexibility and game sense. will this give japan the push they need to get ahead?”

and he does. japan matches and overtakes argentina. kita claps at atsumu’s clean set to ushijima, who slams it down in the opposite court. the team huddles for a cheer and then take their positions. suna is back at the net, hands in front. his eyes widen at the camera pointed at him, and he rotates his fingers to form a heart, mouthing a message. he turns away at the whistle, but that’s enough for the world to see and wonder exactly what he said.

only osamu knows those words by heart.

japan takes the first and second set, but argentina comes back for the third. however, japan takes the fourth, after switching in hinata, and they cheer in celebration. argentina looks devastated, oikawa most of all, and osamu doesn’t miss how japan’s athletic trainer, iwaizumi, pats his arm off-court. he’s sure there’ll be more gestures once the cameras are turned away.

the customers begin to call for their bills and shuffle out. osamu gathers their dishes, kita helping despite osamu's protests, and it isn’t long before they’re the wiping tables clean. they listen to the post-game interview with the players, starting with aran, the captain, and then atsumu. finally, they talk to suna.

“you did an interesting gesture in the middle of the first set. would you like to explain what it means?”

osamu turns to watch. suna has a towel around his neck, hair unruly after the match. his voice doesn’t waver when he replies, “there’s a certain someone that i know is watching, and i wanted to let him know that i appreciate his support and love him.”

“is that related to what you said to the camera? fans are dying to know what you said, by the way.”

“yes, but that’s between me and him.” suna winks, turning slightly to face the camera again. “and if he’s watching – i know he is, by the way – i want him to know that i couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

the broadcast ends. osamu smiles to himself, adding his rag with the others. he’ll lock up, head home, and text the team his congratulations. atsumu will probably call him in the middle of the night, again, to put him on video as they celebrate. osamu will lose sleep, again, but it’s worth it, seeing his brother happy, seeing his best friend glowing, and of course, his boyfriend living his best dream.

watch me, 'samu.

osamu will never take his eyes off him.

---

inspired by this fanart of suna's gesture and osamu's reaction! <3

[mellowmin]

Character Rant: Osamu Miya!

Disclaimer: this is only MY PERSONAL OPINION and my own takes on these characters, please do not interact if you don't like or agree with this 💜

suggestive (not really?), reader is referred to as 'baby' but is mostly gn

Okay, I've been in such a Samu mood lately it's crazy.

He's definitely my favorite twin, as much as I love Tsumu and his needy, clingy almost desperate way of loving; Samu just hits different and here's why

○ SAMU. IS. GREEDY. And he's not ashamed of it. When he falls in love with someone, he wants every bit of this person to be his. He becomes protective, sometimes possessive, and he makes it known that he's not happy with other people getting as close to you as HE is.

○ This boy is ALL about secret/private/exclusive stuff. He cherishes your little inside jokes and traditions (he would rather DIE than skip your weekly movie night) and the way he acts lmao. Sometimes it feels like y'all are doing something wrong with the way he sneaks around to go see you.

○ It may happen that you get it in your head that he's embarrassed to be seen hanging out with you, but upon bringing it up to him he's pretty quick to admit that he's only doing that so that Tsumu (and maybe Suna) won't get the chance to invade come along with you guys. If by that point you're not already dating him, his pout and red face make it very clear that he appreciates your company more than you could even imagine.

○ Something that I feel connects me to his character is his love for food (I probably relate to him because I'm the same way); I feel like he may not outright say what he feels but the way he acts around people and food tells a lot about his heart. Especially when it comes to sharing his food, and sharing in general.

○ So, as a twin, Samu's no stranger to sharing. He's shared with his brother for most of his life; from sleeping in the same cot as babies, to toys, rooms, snacks, clothes, etc. This is something that affects Tsumu as well, but I feel like it digs deeper with Samu, like he felt like he's never had something that truly belonged to him and only him-

○ Until he began to show interest in cooking. It was one of the best moments of his life; his mama told him that if he could make his own lunches for school, no matter what it was (as long as it was healthy), he could eat all of it without sharing with his twin. At the time, Mama Miya was only trying to kindle this new hobby, but little Samu saw it as life finally giving him a chance to keep something to himself.

○ So... that may have resulted in him developing a pretty... peculiar relationship with food. Over time, he realized that he didn't mind sharing his food with Tsumu as much as he liked seeing his dumb twin's face light up when trying his increasingly tastier recipes, and he could not ignore how full his heart felt when it was his mama or his senpais enjoying the food he made. Like that, food started to become more meaningful to Samu when it came to expressing his love.

○ On a few occasions, his fangirls would approach him with food, sometimes homemade and often storebought, but Samu almost always ended up giving them away to whatever pair of grubby hands was the closest to him at lunch (👀Tsumu👀). Especially when he started having feelings towards someone, taking those kinds of gifts (let alone give them back) felt wrong. He's nothing if not loyal.

○ That being said, as his s/o, he's your buffet lol. Take everything from him and he'll ask if you got room for dessert. This goes for food and in general, and I feel like he'd want to be with someone who's as horny greedy for him as he is for them. He also likes to feel validated in the fact that he belongs to you as much as you belong to him :')

○ So, imagine the scrunch, the absolute sneer on this man's face when some girl comes to him (when he's already dating you) and asks him to make something for her.

"Why would I do that? Who are you"

pfft yeah, no one is trying that again any time soon

○ When he's really whipped, you know you can trust him because you see the disgust on his face when he has to interact with someone who might have a thing for him. His friends tell you that he's whipped, you can see it, everyone can see it and honestly, he's not ashamed.

○ One time, he drunk texted you while he was out with friends, and before you could reply, he sent you a video.

Upon opening the video, you get a close up shot of your bf's hairy nostril before he pulls the phone away enough to film himself and his friends, all screaming nonsense like a bunch of lunatics. You giggle at their antics and pity the poor girl under Tsumu's arm; who is currently getting her left ear melted off by the blonde's yelling (also, knowing him, he probably stinks of beer)

○ However, you don't pity the random (quite gorgeous) girl who shoves herself into frame; wrapping her arms around Samu's waist while saying hi to the camera. The way that his face twists from drunk happiness to utter disgust is almost comical, he looks offended.

"Ewww who the fuck are you? Dontouchmeohmagad" Samu's words are heavily slurred but he doesn't stumble one bit as he shoves the girl away from him. "You're ugly, get away" He glares fiercely at the retreating offender.

The last bit of the video is him pouting and mumbling, presumably having forgotten the camera currently filming his chin from a rather unflattering angle

"I don't know who you are but you ain't ma baby n' I only want ma baby"

○ UGHHHH JUST SAYINGGGGGG you should put a ring on this man ASAP cuz

Osamu Miya is 100% pure husband material

[kuroowo]

A gentle twirl in the night. Your loving hand in the palm of his. The moonlight’s glow blankets your very being. Heaven’s halo in the way your hair moves, the way your smile saccharine, the way your laughter chimes — Miya Osamu’s world titls, and he is more than enchanted.

He can’t wax poetry on how your presence graces those beside you with blessings. He can’t sing melodies that seem to follow your every kind gesture. He can’t capture the essence of your soul in art his hands are incapable of making. Alas, perhaps just a little regrettably, it wasn’t in his repertoire. Not that you care in the slightest, though. No, never. Not when sincerity pours from every word he speaks to you. (How could he not?). A warm, affection thorough in the way he looks at you, regards you, takes you in as if you’re the only one in his world. (You are.). Clumsy, yet sweet, reliable, in the way he stands by your side nonetheless. And why wouldn’t he? You, who has taught him the delights in the littlest things. You, who has shown him tenderness in every depress and every mundane. You, in all your glory before him, choosing him to dance in the arms of. So otherworldly. So charming. So—

“Beautiful.”

[seiwas]

every time i read a hot osamu fic my brain short circuits and all the neural connections feel like they’re rearranging and reigniting

[jellychannie]

this is so cute holy hell

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.

[amarantoestrella]

Tobio Kageyama 😓

[emmyrosee]

Rintaro loves to pretend he doesn’t care.

There’s a nonchalance that carries around your man, one that comes from years of training of gaslighting the twins and making them turn against each other, or the scoldings from Kita-San that could’ve got so intense with his disappointment Rintaro could cry.

He’s gotten good at keeping a stoic emotion and making you act out. He loves to pretend he doesn’t care.

“It’s because he doesn’t,” Atsumu assures, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

You roll your eyes, “trust me, he cares. You just don’t see it.”

“And I never will. Because it doesn’t happen.”

You raise your brows in challenge, and he matches your brow raising. “Wanna bet on it?”

“Wager?”

“If I can prove to you Rintaro actually is a dork for my attention, I want a signed Kiyoomi jersey.”

He scoffs, “can’t you just ask Kiyoomi for one?”

“Komori tells me not to bother him after games.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes, “okay. And when he doesn’t show he’s a loser, I want all you can eat at Onigiri Miya and you pick up the bill.”

“….”

“What?”

“Osamu doesn’t naturally give you all you can eat?”

“No?”

“Oh…”

“Does he GIVE IT TO YOU?!”

You give him a cheesy smile and quickly move to grab your keys, his jaw slacked in betrayal, only for him to roll his eyes, “whatever. Either way, we’re going when I win. What’re the keys for?”

“You’ll see.”

You jingle your keys with a small smirk, making sure to do it loud enough for him to hear down the hall. Atsumu shakes his head in disbelief, only for his hand to cover his mouth as socked feet quickly become louder as Rintaro barrels down the hall.

A lanky frame fills the doorway, “where you goi-“

Atsumu and you let out a string of cackles, his hand smacking his knee while Rintaro scrubs his face with his free hand, the other one holding a controller for his, hopefully, paused game.

“Dawg I hate you for real,” he sighs, coming into the room to kiss your head. You smile and angle your head to kiss him for real, which he complies with happily and making Atsumu gag. His green eyes dart to glare at Atsumu, “I wish osamu was an only child.”

“Damn, bringing guns to knife fights,” the blonde snorts. “Not my fault you got caught in 4K, dickhead.”

“Not my fault you’re a single loser.” He leans down to kiss your lips, “where’re we going?”

“No where,” you hum happily. “Just wanted to make sure you were still obsessed with me.”

He beams down at you while Atsumu groans in disgust.

“Always.”

RINRINRINRINRIN

[luvinazaki]

Im literally gnawing giggling kicking and everything !!!,&/&;’s

Currently thinking about Osamu who despite being extremely athletic for most of his life, is slowly not working out as much in his recent years. Between planning your wedding, opening Miya Onigiri, and welcoming your first child, he hasn’t had the time nor energy. All this combined he's slowly growing softer around the edges, and man does it drive you crazy.

You were relaxing, reading a book on your shared bed when he walks in after having showered. Towel wrapped around his waist, his figure on display. He was still wet, water droplets slowly creeping down his chest. His belly was starting to poke out a little, and you loved it. He was very broad, still some muscle left, and combined with the chub he was looking quite tempting.

You start squealing and hide your face in the pillow, kicking your legs. He laughs and walks over, still getting the floor wet. “The hells up with ya?” You giggle and peek from behind the pillow. 

“You’re way too hot. I can’t handle it.” As soon as you say that you burst into giggles again, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise, a slight smirk on his face. 

“Ya think so? I noticed I’ve put on some weight and was thinking of hittin’ the gym-” 

“No! Please! I love it!” He hums and leans over you, nearly pressing against you.

“Well, if you insist.”

note: gnawing on the bars of my enclosure…..

[aciddrattboyy]

(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

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ you know i got a soft spot for you !!

ᝰ.ᐟ peak romance is when you realize that he's got a soft spot for you. alternatively: a headcanon post about the specific things he only does for you or the specific things you do to him that only you can get away with. ( fem!reader & sfw )

featuring osamu miya, tobio kageyama, kiyoomi sakusa author's notes damn, y'all just let hq win every poll, don't you?? haha jk, im happy to write whatever u guys wanna see. keshi's song has been stuck in my head all day (is this my socal abg transformation?? [guys im 100% viet, im allowed to make that joke]) i definitely still want to make a bllk version + if you guys like this, i'm always open to more characters <3

౨ৎ OSAMU MIYA — gives you the first and last bite of his food why it's special: osamu takes being a foodie to the next level. the man can eat, and he loves to do so. ever since elementary, his classmates and friends learned better than to ask osamu to share any of his snacks. he's not rude about it, per se, but you can tell that he packed his food with the intention of him and only him consuming it. him and atsumu even get into verbal altercations over who ate the last snack in the pantry. osamu just loves food — so it's pretty obvious that he must really love you a lot to always offer you the first bite of a meal at the restaurant he's spent weeks waiting to open.

"and anyway, that's when— hey, what the hell!" bits of rice fly out of atsumu's mouth whenever he watches osamu give you the first serving of grilled meat. you and osamu invited atsumu out to eat, to celebrate him joining the msby black jackals, and because everyone was craving bbq, you all agreed on the same restaurant (for once). osamu is naturally in charge of grilling the meats. what throws his twin off guard, though, is the fact that osamu is serving you first. "what's the matter? and finish chewing before you speak, damn." osamu huffs, before beginning to assemble portions of the side dishes on your plate as well. atsumu looks at his own empty plate before looking at osamu's empty plate. "geez, [name], how'd you do it?" you look up from your food to answer atsumu. "do what?" "this selfish, gluttonous bastard never lets anyone else eat first!" atsumu tells you, and you just laugh as osamu starts swearing at his brother. "well," you tell atsumu brightly, once his argument with osamu is settling down. "osamu's always lets me eat first. he insists, really." osamu has to tell atsumu to shut the hell up and stop whining before he doesn't get any food at all.

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA — takes pictures of you why it's special: tobio kageyama's camera roll before you consists of screenshots (some are accidental, such as the ones of his lock screen, or it's usually different athletic gear he wants to check out), photos of maps (because he is directionally challenged everywhere except for the court), and sometimes of virtual tickets (for when he actually does attend an event, usually for sports). tobio kageyama's camera roll after you consists of the same stuff, pretty much... except for the fact that there are now hundreds of photos he takes of you. he's not one to take pictures; he's a bit awkward around a camera, really, but he realizes soon after getting with you that he doesn't mind being in front of a camera as long as you're posing with him. he takes so many candids of you, like when you're washing the dishes or drifting off to sleep on the couch after bingewatching a tv show. if pictures are worth a thousand words, he's said "i love you" over a million times.

"oh my gosh, delete that!" you shriek, trying to make a mad grab for your boyfriend's phone. his reflexes are quicker, though, and he holds it out of your reach. "why would i delete it?" he asks innocently. "you look cute." the photo in question is the one he just took. the two of you ordered ramen for takeout, and yours was made spicier than usual. your lips feel swollen, and they're kind of stained red from the spices used, and the image captures that, but also highlights the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes as you're in the middle of a massive bite of noodles. "i look like i'm the thumbnail for a 'mukbangers who took it too far and died' video!" you wail. "delete it, tobio!" "but you look cute." he stands his ground, pouting a bit. "that's not fair. do not make that face." you groan, turning to look away from your boyfriend. honestly, with a face like that, it's no wonder why you couldn't force him to delete any pics of you. he's just too damn good at whittling away your resolve. "i think i'm gonna make it my lockscreen." he muses.

౨ৎ KIYOOMI SAKUSA — lets you make a mess of his things why it's special: kiyoomi is very particular about his personal belongings. he doesn't let his teammates borrow any of his training equipment. he refuses to wash his jersey with the rest of the team's, and instead, gets it professionally cleaned elsewhere. in the beginning of your relationship, kiyoomi always offered to wash the dishes, purely because he would only trust that it was truly cleaned if he could confirm that they were well scrubbed. the closer you two get, though, the more the boundaries blur. soon, his stuff gets mixed in with yours. you're doing the laundry together. he gives you his pillow when yours gets too warm. there's intimacy in that, even more so when you consider how prickly kiyoomi gets with these things.

"kiyoomi! you're home early!" fuck fuck fuck, is what's going on in your internal dialogue. you're baking a cake for dessert, only the mixer had a mind of its own, and you ended up covered in sugar, spice, and everything nice. which isn't that big of a deal. you already wiped down the counters, mopped the floors, and got started on the dishes. the only issue is that when you're at home, you have a habit of stealing kiyoomi's clothes. right now, you've still got on his sweatshirt. his nice, pristine, fresh from the laundry sweatshirt... that is now covered in nothing but flour and cake mix. you were going to wash it, honest! it's just... cleaning the kitchen took more time than you anticipated, and kiyoomi was supposed to stay at the gym for the whole day. he knows that that sweatshirt is his. you expect your boyfriend's eye to twitch, or for him to frown, or to even complain that you just ruined his very nice and outrageously priced hoodie. instead, he walks over to you, and places a kiss on your forehead. you've got flour all over you, including your hair, and surely he's got some flour on his lips now. he doesn't complain or say anything about the ruined sweatshirt. he just says, "thanks for baking. i'm going to go shower."