#osamu miya x

[anodetoswag]

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔯𝔬𝔟𝔢 𝔚𝔬𝔢𝔰

Synopsis: You help your fiancé elevate his fashion sense.

❀﹒Notes : Inspired by this video but imagine it on a tie-dye background. Suggestive, established relationship, explicit language, maybe ooc (???). Reader has no chill but he's into that.

It’s hideous. 

From the tie-dye pink to the poorly edited picture and right down to the gaudy lettering of the font; absolutely hideous. “What do you think?”

He looks at it, lips drawn into a thin line of contemplation. 

“It’s something.”

The fact that he didn’t outright set this abomination on fire was a bigger testament to his commitment than the ring on your finger. Truly, the man had the patience of a monk to deal with your dubious sense of humor. 

“That’s good,” you smile, being mindful that it isn’t too broad, lest your intentions be revealed. “I made it myself.”

Of course, why didn’t he guess that already? This has your name written all over it. 

“The word choice is interesting.” 

The remark makes your smile wider just a bit. “Yeah, it’s a wordplay. I thought it was pretty clever.” 

That’s a solid way to put it. 

“Sir Cumcise,” he reads out loud. “Very cultural,” a nod of approval and a second more that his eyes remain before he strips off the suit jacket and crisp pressed shirt in the favor of pulling on the shirt over his head, much to your surprise. 

“Aren’t we going to dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Will you wear that out?” 

He’s never much cared what people have to say about him but stepping out of the house with that on really deserves to be on the cover of his portfolio of the idgaf mvp. 

He shrugs, smoothing out his hair . “It can be a conversation starter.”

“If they let us in,” you muse. It’s doubtful. The place is no Three Star Michelin but it’s decently standard. 

“Money can open a lot of doors.” 

“Like the ones to my heart.”

“...”

“And my legs-”

“Don't threaten me with a good time.”

Sae, Shinso, Al Haitham, Tighnari, Ayato, Wriothesley, Osamu, Geto, APH Netherlands.

divider by @cafekitsune

[merlucide]

BOKUTO.ೃ࿔* who desperately wants you to think he’s cool. He’ll do everything in his power to impress you—oh, your bag is too heavy? No problem! Bo’s got it! aaaand he can carry Akaashi’s bag too! See how strong he is? Isn’t he the coolest?! Wait—hold on, you really think so?

KUROO.ೃ࿔* who loves when you manhandle him. Tug him by his tie, and honey he’s at your mercy. Slide your hands along his neck with that sly smile of yours, and you’ll have him utterly undone. He just has to lean in with a lopsided smirk, hand cupping your jaw, being completely enchanted by you.

TSUKKI.ೃ࿔* who keeps you from wandering aimlessly like a lost puppy. You always ‘turn your brain off’, according to Kei. he’ll firmly place his hand on the top of your head and steer you in the right direction, rolling his eyes and teasing about how you’d be completely and utterly lost without him.

SUNARIN.ೃ࿔* who always, ALWAYS, has to have his hands on you. If you are with in reach he will rest his hands on your hips and tug you against him. If you’re walking around then your fingers will be interlocked. He also likes to put his hand in your back pocket in your jeans

IWAIZUMI.ೃ࿔* who gets genuinely gets flustered every time you compliment him. It could be anything small, like a simple ‘That’s a good color on you’ has him bashfully muttering a small ‘thanks,’ with his cheeks tinged pink. He hates how easily you turn him into a mess—especially when you giggle in realization and lean in to kiss him— Oh he just can’t take it!!

AKAASHI.ೃ࿔* who always walks you to and from your destination, no matter the time, place, or weather. Any time spent with you is spent well. He needs to make sure you get to your destination safely of course! He waits until he absolutely cannot see you anymore before he starts his journey back.

ATSUMU.ೃ࿔* who gives the BEST hugs. You always feel so safe and so loved when his arms are wrapped firmly around your waist. His head tucks into your neck as if he never wants to let go. And when he’s feeling all soft, he’ll cradle your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing tenderly across your skin as he gazes at you like you hung the stars. Though, that’s just ‘Tsumu’s normal expression when you’re around.

KAGEYAMA.ೃ࿔* who’s always looking for you, even if you’re not there. It’s just a habit of his, probably because his mind is constantly plagued of your smiling face 24/7. The moment he spots you, he’s making a beeline, linking his pinky with yours whispering ‘What took you so long?’.

USHIWAKA.ೃ࿔* who’s the perfect gentleman. He pulls out your chair, walks on the side closest to the road, and never shows up empty-handed, always bringing you a bouquet of roses on every Sunday with a respectful kiss on the hand. Life with ‘Toshi is as easy as breathing.

OIKAWA.ೃ࿔* who can’t help but be ridiculously cheesy, really he can’t! Not when you’re his darling sugarplum and one and only till the end of forever! Reject his dramatic love proclamations? Oh, absolutely not! That’s just who he is, and you’ll have to endure it, sweetheart.

HINATA.ೃ࿔* who always offers piggyback rides when your feet hurt. Don’t underestimate his little body!—he can lift you with ease, carrying you down the street like it’s nothing. Sho’ would insist you get on his back regardless if your feet hurt or not—can you really blame him? Who wouldn’t want a cutie hanging onto them!

KENMA.ೃ࿔* who silently watches you in admiration when you put your makeup on. Sitting on the toilet lid, he holds your makeup bag and hands you your lip gloss before you even ask. He shyly looks away with his cheeks warm and lips pursed together when you ask ‘how do I look?’.

OSAMU.ೃ࿔* who can’t help the loopy grin on his face when you do a little twirl, showing off your new outfit. He could care less about shopping, truly, he hates it. But if it means seeing you all dolled up and happy, he doesn’t mind it one bit.

SAKUSA.ೃ࿔* who pulls you close to him when you are in public spaces. He takes your hands and squirts his Hello Kitty hand sanitizer (The one you got him) into your hands before rubbing his own. Scathingly glares at the man who accidentally bumped into you. He absolutely cannot let you have unwanted contact with strangers! no yucky germs allowed on his baby.

YAMAGUCHI.ೃ࿔* who always firmly holds your hand in crowds. Out in public he’ll hold your hand regardless, but when everyone is packed together his anxiety skyrockets. He’s always nervous of you two being separated in the crowd. He takes the lead to guide you both out of the mingled mess of people, and when it’s over, please give him a  forehead kiss—he’s earned it.

TENDOU.ೃ࿔* who takes Shounen Saturdays very seriously. You don’t get to skip it! Not when it’s a sacred tradition of binge-watching both of your favorite shows with sugary snacks! You two are all bundled together on the couch and gasping and giggling at the TV. He refuses to let you watch the next episode without him, Will curse your whole bloodline if you do (affectionate).

HOSHIUMI.ೃ࿔* who might just be the worst person to play board games with. When he’s winning, he’s full of smug trash talk, loudly boasting about his ‘inevitable victory’, but the second he starts losing? ‘This game is rigged!’ ‘you cheated!,’ or ‘this is bullshit!’. It’s even worse better when there’s a bet involved—he’ll do anything to avoid letting you win. That’s how you get him to help you clean most the time hehe.

LEV.ೃ࿔* who clings to you, always. You are concerned for his neck and back for always resting around you in uncomfortable positions, but he never seems to complain. Standing up Lev has his arms around you and head smushed against yours, laying down his long legs wrap around your own and he burrows himself in your warmth. If Lev could have it his way, he would never stop touching you.

AONE.ೃ࿔* who’s a certified purse carrier. you don’t make him— of course not! He insists actually. He could care less about being seen with a hot pink decorated purse slung on his arm, it’s quite the sight. This also goes for shopping of course, Nobu’ just trails behind with arms full of whatever you managed to snag on 50% off.

uhu I wrote some for kyotani+suga+goshiki+etc but I didn’t like them sob sob

lemme know whatcha think! (And if I should do pt2 lolz)

made January 26th 2025

[oxytxn]

him walking into the bedroom to catch you masturbating—you, with headphones in, listening to a spicy audio. he stands in the doorway with narrowed eyes, yet almost a receptive gaze—like he’s learning. and he’s got that smirk on his face, waiting for you to see him after you’re finished with your cute little bullet vibrator. whether that be creaming all over the little toy or you screaming in frustration when you can’t quite get there.

but oh, when he hears you moan out his name in that saccharine voice of yours, his pants suddenly feel so fucking tight. and seeing the mixture of shock and slightly excitement in your eyes when you finally see him? oh, he’s even harder now.

so he disconnects your headphones and tells you to start it back at the beginning where he can hear it too. when you hesitate, he presses rewind for you while holding your gaze.

once it plays, he acts to the man’s words and sounds, the lewd and absolutely sinful smacks of his lips against your pussy and calloused thumb rubbing on your poor puffy clit making you cum embarrassingly quick on his tongue.

but that’s just the first five minutes—he wants to go through the entire video.

hq ⟡ KYOUTANI KENTARO, yaku morisuke, MIYA ATSUMU, iwaizumi hajime, SUNA RINTAROU, sugawara koushi, MIYA OSAMU, your fave.

jjk ⟡ NANAMI KENTO, geto suguru, SUKUNA RYOMEN, gojo satoru, TOJI FUSHIGURO, your fave.

aot ⟡ JEAN KIRSTEIN, eren jaeger, ZEKE JAEGER, connie springer, PORCO GALLIARD, your fave.

masterlist.

ik these munches love to eat 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

mdni. do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©oxytxn 2025.

[qardenofeden]

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

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

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

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

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

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

“fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sure is a good thing osamu’s got practice.

@deardoelle mwah

[bonniepop]

another night where you fight, another night of silence. another night where miya osamu sleeps with his back to you.

the realization that there is not much more you can do to save your relationship clutches at your chest with an iron grip.

the gravity of it makes you whimper. pressing your lips together, you shakily push yourself up to sit blinking back tears while blindly stepping around for your slippers, willing yourself not to sob—not here, not where he can hear. your toes touch the fluff of them, and you hurry to slip them on. you need to get out of here.

as quiet as possible, you leave your boyfriend in your shared bedroom.

you stumble to the couch and kick off your shoes, blindly searching until your fingers catch the lampshade switch. you yank it to provide some light, rattling as it flings back into place.

you pull your knees to your chest and press your forehead against your kneecaps. a numb part of your brain thinks oh, so this is where this was, when you think of the misery that quieted itself, replaced with a numbness that overtook you during the fight you had with him earlier.

the numbness that made your limbs feel like ice when he clicked off the phone call without even hearing you out.

you wanted to tell him so much, but in the face of his blank gaze and dismissive demeanor, you shut off. you have more fight in you, you know that. but tonight you just couldn’t. couldn’t listen to him tell you that he needed more from you—more support, more time, more patience.

you’ve given him that, right? your brain runs with thoughts you can't keep up with. you gave him yourself. you have, for months, for years. you did what you could. you’ve withstood lonely anniversaries, forgotten birthdays, broken promises. you’ve done everything you could. you gave what you could. you gave everything you could.

i want you to come home, you wanted to tell him eatlier tonight. come home. you’re never home. i know you’re busy at work and you’re doing what you love but please, ‘samu. please. 

love me, too.

your body wracks with a sob, the hurt fresh, as if the words that you never got to say wounded your insides instead. you wanted to tell him that, you wanted to beg for it, beg for his time, beg for his attention, beg for him to love you back. but time and time again he just turns and says he’s tired, he doesn't want to hear it, and the moment is gone, and now the fear of knowing that leaving things unsaid will destroy you, will destroy him. will destroy both of you.

you huddle closer into yourself and sob, a sharp sound in your ears making your head pound.

“babe?” you hear through the ringing in your ears, and suddenly warm hands are on your arms. “babe, what’s wrong?” his voice is calm against your turmoil. “are you having a panic attack?”

“’samu, i’m—” you shudder and he leaves for a moment, flitting to the kitchen to grab you some water. 

“drink, please,” he tells you, gently unfurling you to sit. you comply with shaky limbs, taking the water he’d given you in your delicate grip. a few sips are enough to calm you down, but the fear is still there.

he gingerly takes the glass and sets it aside. he kneels in front of you, taking your hands and soothingly rubbing his thumbs against your skin. his fingers are hot, almost like a furnace, but when you realize that he's not, he's fine, your hands are freezing, you resist the urge to pull away as he warms your palm.

when he looks up to smile at you, you see the exhaustion on his face, and, instantly, you hate yourself for it. for this.

"i'm sorry," you blurt out, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over.

his hand leaves yours and cups your cheek. "for what, baby?"

“i love you so much, osamu,” you tell him without thinking, voice thick and wet and miserable. you press the palm of the hand he let go of against his cheek, hiccuping when he closes his eyes to lean into your touch. 

“i love you, too,” he says, ready to apologize for the fight, but it's not about that.

not anymore.

you pull away. the confusion and hurt on his face is making everything worse.

“i love you so much,” you tell him, desperately wishing that he could understand. “but i—” you sob, “but, osamu, i can’t anymore.”

osamu presses his lips together, saying nothing. you hear him sniffle, and his fingers come forward to brush at the tears on your cheeks and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

“i love you so much,” you confess. “i would do anything for you. and i have, i have for years. i’ve tried my best, but osamu, i’m so tired,” you sob. your voice feels like its giving out but the desperation makes the words claw themselves out of your mouth. “i’m so tired, i'm so tired and i'm so lonely, and—and—and i love you so much, but i have nothing left to give.”

you pull your hands away to hunch over and cry into your palms unable to face him. messily, you wipe at your face and push your hair back. you give him the most apologetic smile you can muster, but you're unable to see his face through your tears. “i’m so sorry i can’t give you more, osamu.”

you hear him sniffle and when you wipe your tears away with the backs of your hands, his eyes are glassy. then he closes his eyes.

the pain that washes over his face is absolutely unbearable. the furrow of his brow and the wrinkle of his chin, the lines by his scowl that you know is him trying his best to keep it together.

when he opens his eyes to look at you, his eyes are no longer glassy. your heart breaks for the pain he refuses to show. “what’s next?”

your smile is sad and wet with tears. “i think you know.” you brush his hair back and cradle his face with your hands. “let’s… let’s do this in the morning, okay?”

he nods, looking away. he licks his lips and shakes his head, and he turns to face you with a furrowed brow and a little more composure despite his watery gaze. but it doesn’t take long before his face crumples and he rushes to hide his face against your legs. his quiet sobs are pained and miserable, his chest shaking as he cries. 

you press your face against his hair and cry with him.

—

the morning greets you kindly, the soft sunlight bathing your room in a sweet glow. it’s early, but you can’t keep sleeping. there’s a lot to pack.

your eyes feel hot and swollen, and bones feel heavy beneath your skin, weighing you down from getting up from the bed. still, you fight. you push yourself up to sit and notice that you’re alone. unsurprising, really; osamu has been leaving earlier and coming home later. onigiri miya needs care, needs nurturing, so it’ll blossom and grow. you need to stop begrudging him for it.

you finish your morning ablutions in the bathroom and head out to the kitchen, but when you open your bedroom door, the smell of food hits your nose like a smack to the face. your stomach twists when you see a familiar broad back—osamu didn’t leave—and your fingers turn cold.

the door slides shut behind you and he turns. “good mornin’,” he says quietly, shutting off the stove.

“good morning,” you say, walking to your kitchenette. when you see the spread on the table, you gape despite yourself. “osamu. what is—what.”

he flushes, sliding a delicious looking steak unto a plate and setting it alongside the other plates—nearly every single plate you own, you note—and your dining table is bursting with food. “cooked breakfast.”

“for how many people?” you ask, incredulous. “i tried t'remember everythin’ you liked,” he said with a sniff, and your heart crinkles at the edges, because that means something.

“thank you,” you whisper, and you quietly take a seat while sets aside the dishware he used. 

when he finishes, he turns to look at you, leaning on the counter. it takes him a while. “when you leave,” he says, “i’m going to try again.”

you stare at him, confused. you say nothing and wait for him to continue.

“i don’t want you to leave,” he says, and he rubs his face in frustration. “but i know i’ve—i know i fucked up. i love you, and i never should’ve hurt you.” he inhales through his nose. “but i did, and i can’t change that.

“but i’m not giving up on you. not on us. you—” he clears his throat, and the dark circles beneath his eyes makes your heart feel tight. “i’ll… if i have to start all over again, i’ll do it,” he whispers, walking closer and taking your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “i’ll win you back.”

“osamu,” you whisper, and his face crumples again.

“i love you too much to let you go,” he says, voice breaking as he fights back tears. “and i know that makes me a jerk. but i’m… i love you, so much—so fucking much, and i hate myself for not making you feel that. for hurting you.”

he gets on his knees and tears are streaming down your face. “leave me if you have to,” he says brokenly.

“if you need space, i’ll understand. but please,” he begs. “please don’t give up on me.” 

he does the unthinkable. he curls over and bows, back curved and forehead pressed against the backs of his hands, pressed against the floor.

the horror that overtakes you is beyond words. 

you drop to the floor to pull him upright, not letting him do this. he won’t do this to himself, you won’t let him. not for anyone, not for you. you pull his face against yours and kiss him as hard as you can, crying as you do.

you won't let him do this.

later, you sit on the couch, arms around osamu’s middle as you lie on his chest. the idea that this could be the last time you held him like this made you want to burst into tears again.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he promises, pushing your hair out of your face, gently guiding your chin up. “please, just… give me another chance.”

you look up at him, and your eyes meet.

—

“hey!” atsumu greets warmly as soon as you enter the restaurant, spreading his arms wide to engulf you in a hug. “it’s so good t’see you!“

“hi, ‘tsumu,” you greet, returning the hug. 

he motions for you to sit as he picks up the menu. “know what you want?”

you nod, not even bothering to pick up the menu. “how are you? how’s training?”

“’m good! training’s good. teammates are pretty good, too.”

"yeah? like who?"

atsumu makes a show of looking at the menu. "oh, i don't you know them."

you roll your eyes at his obvious ploy to get you to start talking. “fine. ask me.”

atsumu instantly leans in, conspiratorially covering his mouth with the menu and whispering, “how are you two? it’s been over a month now, right?”

“oi.” you twist your head to smile up at the newcomer. “stop bothering them, ‘tsumu.”

atsumu glares at his twin. “i’m the one who invited ‘em to lunch!”

osamu rolls his eyes and lays down a platter of onigiri in front of you. he snatches the menu and smacks his brother’s wandering hands with it before they get to close. “these are not for you.”

“but that’s a lot!" atsumu whines. "can’t i have any?”

“no,” osamu says resolutely, then turns to you and gives you the softest smile he can muster, pinning the menu by his side and arm.

"i haven't even ordered yet!" atsumu complains.

osamu ignores him. “let me know what you think.”

“okay,” you say with a smile. 

“and let me know if you need to take out anything,” he continues, “i’ll wrap it up for you.” he leans forward and presses a kiss to your temple. “enjoy.”

“thank you, ‘samu,” you tell him before he turns to leave. 

he smiles back at you and heads back behind the bar.

atsumu has evidently forgotten about ordering, because his eyes shuttle back and forth between you two before nodding considerably. “so i take it things are going well?”

“yeah,” you admit, picking up an onigiri. “going really well, actually.”

“you’ve been…” atsumu searches for the word, “is it still called ‘dating’? you broke up. but… entertaining each other…?”

“don’t hurt yourself,” you joke. “but yeah. let’s call it dating. and it’s going well, thanks for asking.” you take a bite of the onigiri.

“does he still have a chance?” atsumu asks, genuine curiosity on his face.

you chew thoughtfully as you look back at osamu, who’s smiling at a customer. you remember that bright morning, when he helped you pack, helped you move into your friend’s apartment. when he cooked all that food, and you found it neatly packed away in a thermal bag that had a handwritten note, reminding you to eat well.

you remember the next day, when he showed up at your friend’s door, holding flowers and inviting you out to get some ice cream. you remember his messages, his calls, his check ins on you, littered across the days, asking you how you are or if you’re eating or if you need any food.

you could call him if you needed any help, if you needed anything at all.

but reality sets in when you think of how one phone call could be a mistake, it stops you from searching his name each time you pick up the phone.

in your mind, you see his bent form, his begging, his tears. you remember his smiles and his hugs and his ‘see you later’s, his gradually growing list of unbroken promises. you remember the effort, the time he’s putting into you, putting aside for you. you remember how hard he tries for you.

it's like everything is new again.

his eyes catch yours and he gives you a small wave, and you wave back, your stomach fluttering.

it's not new, you think. it's better.

you swallow your food. it's delicious.

“yeah,” you say softly, “he does.”

[bowtiepasta]

osamu god of aftercare miya who doesn’t know what leaving is. in gray sweats, shirtless, a ‘kiss the cook’ apron on while he’s making you breakfast the morning after? you don’t really want him to leave anyway.

butter, pancakes, and some secret third thing, pulls you from the haze of sleep before you even open your eyes. the sheets beside you are empty but still warm, proof that osamu hasn’t been up for long.

when you stir, stretching lazily, the first thing you see is him: standing by the stove in nothing but his sweatpants and an apron that hangs loose around his bare chest. he rolls his shoulders back, muscles bunching, the former act to perfectly flipping a sunnyside egg — yolk intact.

“you’re starin’,” he drawls, not looking away from the pan. who wouldn’t be? sleep is evident in his hair, apron dusted lightly with flour, and there’s a faint pink mark on his shoulder turning purple, one you don’t remember leaving but feel smug about anyway.

“you’re in my apartment, my kitchen, making me breakfast,” you manage to carry the tone through a mumble, “I think I’m allowed to look.”

he huffs out a laugh, setting a fresh pancake onto the growing stack on the counter. “fair enough.”

“planning on leaving anytime soon?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ear and drizzling syrup over your portion. he stares a moment, eyes soft and crinkling at the ends, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I ain’t leavin’ until you're full.”

[dearru]

getting stood up | ft. hq boys

-> pairings: miya atsumu, miya osamu, hinata shoyo, suna rintaro, tsukishima kei, iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader | sfw | cw: smau, cursing, they all highkey want u | genre: fluff | mlist

-> synopsis: you text your friend after getting stood up, and he knows exactly how to comfort you.

—a/n: don’t look at me.

[haikyu-mp4]

When you messaged Suna to ask if he could send you a video of Atsumu for a friend, the side of his lip lifted in a little scowl. He considered it for a second before sending you a video of Atsumu sneezing into his towel at a volleyball game, before handing it to Osamu for him to unknowingly rub his face with it.

Suna watched from across the cafeteria as you frowned, leaning away from your phone screen in disgust as you watched the video. It made a small laugh huff between his lips as he tried to hold back the satisfied smile.

From y/n: I can’t send this to her?? she’s head over heels for that piss-head

From Suna: oh it’s actually for your friend

With an ungraceful sound of realisation that you were in fact asking for a friend and not just using it as a cheeky excuse, Suna glanced at Atsumu who was currently stuffing his face with onigiri, his cheeks covered in stray rice as he talked while chewing.

From Suna: he doesn’t have any good angles tho, you’re on your own

And he thrived in the way you found his eyes across the room to hit him with a glare because at least you weren’t the one crushing on the twin. Even if you were, his video planted enough doubt in the Miya genes to last until he finally asked you out. Crisis averted.

I've fallen ill and will be taking a bit longer on the requests for my event, so have this drabble in the meantime<3

[noosayog]

[3:47 pm] ft miya osamu

wc: 700

--

When you slam open Atsumu’s bedroom door and plop yourself onto the carpet next to him, he barely looks up from his phone. 

“Ever heard of knocking?”

You lay belly down on the floor and scream into the worn fuzz of the carpet. 

“Gross. You know our bare, unwashed feet walk on this floor right?” 

He offers you a pillow and you take it, squishing it between the floor and your face. Atsumu waits for your breath to run out. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Atsumuuuuu…” you bemoan. “I’m going through a crisis.” 

He says nothing, continuing to scroll on his phone but you can tell you’ve garnered some of his interest. 

“I have a secret. Like one that I can’t tell anyone.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s so shameful. I’ve been keeping it to myself for, like, ever.”

“Yeah, I bet I couldn’t guess what it is.” The sarcasm is completely lost on you. 

“Yeah. You’d make fun of me. It’d be material for you to tease me for a lifetime,” you pause, take a deep breath. “I-

“-have a big fat crush on my brother?” 

You gape. “What?” 

He looks up from his phone. He blink at you, like you’re any simpleton. “You,” he says slowly, punctuating each word, ”have a big, fat, embarrassing, crutching, debilitating crush on my brother.” 

“I didn’t even realize you knew so many big words-”

“What?” 

The two of you freeze up. 

“‘Samu!” Atsumu exclaims. “Thought you weren’t gonna be back until later tonight.”

“I wasn’t.”

He gives no other explanation. You stay still, hoping that if you don’t move or breathe, he won’t notice you. The silence stretches.

“Ohhh.. kay. Well, I better go. You kids-”

You jolt awake at that, in disbelief that Atsumu would flee alone after what he’s done.

“I’ll go with!” You turn and run, making monumental efforts to avoid a dark eyes trained on you. 

You’re about to squeeze past when a hand slams against the doorframe, arm now blocking off your exit. Osamu stares hard at you while your gaze stays glued to the exit beyond, though it’s more like you’re staring at his bicep which is now stationed at your eye level. 

“I’m just gonna go…” you hear Atsumu mumble, ducking under Osamu’s arm barrier, stealing your escape route. 

“Jackass-” you mumble.

“Hey.” 

The low voice comes from right above your head.

“Osamu,” you greet, still staring at his arm. “I gotta go. I have plans-”

A finger comes up to lift your jaw. It’s careful, but still forceful. When your eyes finally meet his, the one finger turns into two which grip your chin in place. 

“Was what Atsumu said true?” 

It takes a lot for you to hold back a stutter. “Sounds like you heard him loud and clear to me,” you say, ready to slap his hand away. 

“I did.”

“Then why are you still asking-” 

“If it’s true,” he leans down, talking slowly. It makes you start to hyperventilate. You need a paper bag or something. “I don’t wanna hear it from my stupid brother.” 

His eyes are mesmerizing, captivating. Not even the many, many years of knowing him dulls the effect of his straightforward gaze on you. You think you hear someone concede, “it’s true.” 

“What’s true?” he whispers. He’s so close you feel his words ghost your mouth.

Autopilot talks. “That I have a big fat crush on you.” 

He eats up the next millimeter of space. 

“Yeah?” he murmurs against your lips.

Suddenly, his neck is caged inside of your arms and you’re licking up his familiar minty breath and surely this all isn’t your doing because your brain is still catching up. 

His smile widens against your lips and you can feel the smugness radiate off him. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted, then.” 

That clears the fog. You shove his shoulders away and try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t go very far.

“Why?” you demand. 

He kisses you again. “‘Cause my brother’s got a big mouth.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. Osamu takes it as an invitation to slot his face better against yours. 

His kiss almost makes you forget your train of thought, but that’s okay because he answers your question anyway. 

“And he probably would’ve blabbed that I have a big fat crush on you too.”

[riddlesrose]

osamu miya who believes you’re close to him because you’re interested in his twin. it takes a while for him to fully accept that you don’t want atsumu, you want him. it really set it when you start bringing him the snack he pointed out in your lunch, setting it in front of him while you basically ignored a whining atsumu.

post graduation osamu who was so sad when atsumu was mad at him for quitting volleyball, he comes to you with his troubles, hoping you can help. you let him spew all of his feelings uninterrupted while pressed together on your bed. you wipe a stray tear from his eye and pull him impossibly closer for a hug.

college osamu who calls you almost every night, complaining about the work load he’s been given, or the fact that he wants to come back. when he does it’s the holidays and he celebrates with you first, then his family, and yes you’re there too. (his mother is a huge fan of you, she loooves you like her own:((( )

onigiri miya owner osamu who brings home extra food from his shop because he knows you love it. he totally didn’t make extra before closing. nope. you come to onigiri miya most days to visit him, despite living together. something about him and his uniform does something to your mind.

osamu miya who’s loved you since highschool <33

masterlist

[oxytxn]

WHEN YOU’RE FEELING INSECURE. . .

₊˚⊹ ᰔ he has you sitting on and riding his face, with his hands gripping your hips to keep your weight on him—none of that hovering pussy shit—and guiding your movements until you’re crying out his name. death by pussy? his dream way to go.

BOKUTO KOUTARO, sawamura daichi, KITA SHINSUKE, motoya komori, MIYA OSAMU

₊˚⊹ ᰔ he bends you over the arm of the couch and fucks you, hard. with his hips snapping against your ass, paired with little grunts of “oh, baby, y’take me s’good—” that you forget all about everything because you’re just too busy creaming on his cock… what were you even sad about again?

IWAIZUMI HAJIME, miya atsumu, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, yaku morisuke, SHUGO MEIAN

₊˚⊹ ᰔ he gets you all comfy in front of a mirror and fingers you, alternating between little circles on your clit and curling his fingers inside your gummy walls, telling you to keep your eyes on yourself and to watch how pretty you look when you cum for him.

OIKAWA TOORU, tsukishima kei, SEMI EITA, sakusa kiyoomi, MATSUKAWA ISSEI

₊˚⊹ ᰔ he does all three.

AKAASHI KEIJI, ennoshita chikara, UKAI KEISHIN, sugawara koushi, KYOUTANI KENTARO, kuroo tetsuro

masterlist.

mdni. do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©oxytxn 2025.

[freshlyboughtgoldfish]

Atsumu bursts into the room 

“[Name]! Are you seriously gonna marry my brother?! I thought it was a joke!” He yells at you after he comes barreling into the room. 

It was the night before you and Osamu were going to be married. You open your mouth to respond before Osamu comes barreling into as well but unlike his brother he has his eyes set on Atsumu. 

Osamu lunges and takes Atsumu down and tries to pin him to the ground. And Atsumu in a panic starts yelling.

“I mean I like you, and I’m excited to have a sister but like… you’re gonna have kids!! He can’t be trusted around kids!” 

Osamu pushes and shoves Atsumu while they writhe together on the floor. 

“Shup your trap Sumu!”

Atsum yelps as he feels and elbow dig into his kidney but doesn’t relent. 

“He made me eat worms, and he chased me with wasps. And you think that’s an appropriate man to be raising kids with???” He gets out while trying to get his twin off of him. 

“Sumu, I like your brother, he’s such a great guy and I’m excited to marry him.” You say gently like you’re trying to calm a feral cat. 

“He tried to stab me with knives! He can’t be that nice.” He pants, finally extracting himself from Osamu’s grip. 

He gets off the ground and dusts himself off dramatically and makes his way to the door. He gives you a pained look. “Well if he makes you happy…” he says reluctantly. “Just know that if he gives you a gummy worm don’t believe him.”

And with that his gives Osamu a solid kick in the side before bolting out of the house. You watch your fiancé chase him out of the house and hear a car peel out of your driveway. 

Osamu comes back in and collapses down next to you. 

“So did you actually feed him worms?”

“…he was a very gullible kid. I got him like 4 times.”

“…that’s… oh…”

inspired by this ticktock. Here

[cxvii666]

no-context boyfriend txts w/ ten

FEATURING!

YUJI ITADORI, DENKI KAMINARI, HANTA SERO, hitoshi shinsou, eren yeager, ryuunoske tanaka, KEIGO TAKAMI, takuma ino, connie springer, hajime iwaizumi, issei matsukawa, (i could see) yuuta okkotsu, osamu miya, tetsurou kuroo, satori tendou, yuu nishinoya, koushi sugawara, satoru gojo, also suguru geto (he gives closet weirdo), jean kirstein, yuuji terushima, togata mirio + ur faves ofc x

[everrinsly]

a/n; holy spray for this obscenity, i blame by cousin for the idea and for showing me some fanarts. but it's dedicated to all your favorite boys and for those wanting a little spice hehe thank you for reading! I'm sorry been slow, olympic momager soon I promise, work is smacking me (ಥ﹏ಥ)

his measurement. (soft) smut. nsfw. mature. very suggestive. mdni. fem!reader. | not proofread.

when he measures how deep he'd be.

♡ For all your ("I'm not doing anything sus... just measuring") favorites.

more of your favorite boys!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐ᯓ⚽⋆⭒˚.⋆🌌

It starts innocent—strong arm slung over your waist, fingers spread, possessive even in sleep—until he shifts, a warm exhale fanning across the back of your neck. His palm slides down, knuckles grazing the hem of your oversized sleep shirt, where the fabric’s bunched slightly from your shifting. 

His fingers trail lower, barely brushing the soft curve of your stomach. Calloused pads stroke across your skin; he’s memorizing it, learning you in the stillness of morning. His thumb smooths side to side, aimless at first, then with purpose as he drags the tip of his index finger just beneath your belly button, tracing faint circles, a gentle spiral that tightens, until you're squirming slightly against him.

You think it’s nothing at first. Just him being touchy, needy for you like you are for him. 

But then, his fingers slide lower. 

Just a little.

Then a little more. 

Until his entire hand is splayed against your lower stomach, and his pinky dips and teases just under the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He taps.

Once.

Twice.

And spreads his thumb and index finger out.

Wide.

You inhale softly. “What are you doing?” you ask, quietly.

He hums, barely audible, breath warm against the top of your head.

“…Measuring.”

You swallow. “Measuring what?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Hm? What are you measuring?”

“How deep I’d be.”

Huh?

Oh. 

Oh.

You freeze, and your whole body prickles. You feel your thighs twitch, your heart climb up into your throat and stay there. You’re not sure you heard him right.

He doesn’t pull back. His fingers keep moving, little by little, spreading over your soft stomach again, pressing down gently like he’s thinking, calculating, imagining.

Your voice comes out breathy. “You—”

“Shh,” he murmurs. “I’m trying to focus, baby.”

You feel heat bloom in your chest, racing down to your hips. Your thighs press together involuntarily, but he doesn’t tease you for that. Not out loud, at least. He only presses his hand heavier on your stomach, fingers curling. He’s picturing it, feeling it—like he could see himself inside you, see how far he’d reach, see how deep he’d fill.

His hand trails upward, searching for something, tracing lazy shapes into the plush stretch of your skin. One more inch and he’s brushing beneath the curve of your ribs, clearly aiming for the spot where he thinks he’d leave a mark if he filled you just right.

You whisper, barely holding in a laugh, “That’s… definitely not where it would show.”

You feel him smirk against your neck.

“Sure it is,” he mumbles, thumb dragging idly in a wide arc like he’s measuring again. “I’m big. Bet you’d swell all the way up here.”

You shake your head with a breathy giggle, cheeks warm. “Anatomy doesn't work like that.”

“That’s how my anatomy works,” he murmurs, impossibly smug. His hand flattens once more above your belly button. “Besides… you wouldn’t be complaining.”

You don’t say anything but let out a bashful sound as you curl in closer to him because he’s right. You wouldn’t complain. Not even a little.

“But for real, baby…” he continues.

His hand trails just slightly downward again, until the tips of his fingers find the soft dip of your button. He pauses there, toying gently, thumb circling the little curve before he gives it a playful squeeze. 

And then—

“You think I’d show… here?” he asks, voice full of heat. 

You snort, tilting your head slightly as you glance back to catch his eye, “I told you… that’s… that’s not how that works.”

He hums, completely unbothered. “Big dick energy. You wouldn’t get it.”

You nudge him with your knee beneath the blanket. “Mm. Sure.” 

He pauses for a moment before speaking in the driest, most fake-wounded tone possible. “Oh. You’re doubting me?”

You turn to peek at him, trying hard not to smile, but it’s already tugging at the corners of your lips. “A little,” you tease, coyly. 

He exhales, slow and dangerous. His fingers trail lower on your stomach again, just enough pressure to make your heart flutter. “Uh huh... so where do you think I’d be, pretty baby?”

Your breath hitches. “Mm… maybe a little lower.”

He stills for half a second before dipping down to kiss your shoulder. “Yeah?” he rasps, hand gliding down to press lightly on the center of your lower stomach. “Here?”

You shiver.

“Or… maybe here?” 

His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts with ease, and he cups you fully, palm firm and warm against the soft swell of your mound. You choke on a sound that might’ve been a yes—twisting shyly against him, but his other arm only tightens around you, keeping you tucked close.

“Right here?” he murmurs low against your ear, lips brushing the shell of it. “That where you’re feelin’ me now?”

You nod, stuttering softly, “R-right… right there.”

He watches you, his gaze dark and steady, lashes low over that slow-burning hunger in his eyes.

“Mhm. I agree. But you’re forgetting something, baby.”

You blink up at him, dazed, mind foggy, high off his touch. Your lashes flutter, gaze unfocused, and you let out a confused, “Hmm? What is it?”

“I can stretch you,” he says, almost casually. “So... yeah. You'd actually be feeling me all the way up… here.”

He taps, right beneath your chest, dead serious.

Your lips part, but nothing comes out except a stunned, shaky exhale. You're too gone to argue, too flushed and glassy-eyed to remind him that’s not how the human body works. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “You’d take it. You always do. My sweet girl.”

His hand drifts again, down this time, sweeping over your stomach, smoothing the path he’d take inside you, tracing the imprint you’d make around him. You’d let me, wouldn’t you?” he asks, almost teasing. “Let me fuck you like that? Let me come inside? Fill you up, ruin you a little?”

You whimper, eyes fluttering shut, the image too much. The heat curling in your stomach tightens, spreads, and your hips shift against him without meaning to. 

He turns you gently, his hand sliding from your stomach to your hip, and you land soft against his chest. You nuzzle your face into his neck, trying to hide the helpless sounds you make, but he hears them anyway. 

“Say it,” he whispers. “Say I’d be deep.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his hand still pressing just low enough to make you ache. “Say it.”

You gulp. “You’d be… really deep,” you mumble, barely audible.

His grin is lethal. “Attagirl.”

୨ৎ 𖹭 ୨ৎ

And later, you’re on your back, wrists pinned above your head, chest heaving. Your legs tremble, wrapped around his waist, the slick drag of his length inside you hitting that spot again and again, just a little deeper each time, testing your limit and stretching you past it. Your pliant body arches on instinct, chasing every stroke, greedy and raw and shaking.

He leans over you, hair falling over his forehead, sweat-slick skin gleaming faintly in the dim light. “Right there?” he murmurs, voice ragged, cock buried to the hilt. “Feel me?”

You nod, tears in your eyes. It’s too much, but not in a way that makes you want to stop; it’s too much in a way that makes you cling.

And he knows. Of course he knows. “Yeah,” he pants, breath hot against your jaw. “That spot right under your ribs, baby. Right where I said I’d be.”

And shit—you feel it. You actually feel it.

Not just the stretch between your thighs, not just the thick, relentless push inside you. You feel him high. Deep. Every nerve in your body is tethered to him now, stretched taut and burning with pleasure.

It shouldn’t be possible, but it doesn’t matter.

Because it’s him.

Because you always bend for him.

Because, somehow and someway, even the rules bend for him.

He draws back deliberately slow and pushes in even slower, watching your face twist, waiting for that exact moment when your mouth drops open in a soundless cry.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “Told you. All the way up here.”

One hand trails down above your belly button again, pressing flat and firm over that same spot beneath your chest. You sob out a moan, the pressure intensifying everything, the feeling of him there, of him everywhere. Your whole body clenches around him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growls, forehead pressing against yours. “So soft, so tight—taking all of me like you were made for it.”

You whimper, fingernails digging into his arms, body breaking apart under him, around him.

He fucks you through it, like he wants to melt into you. And when he comes, thick and hot and pulsing inside you, it adds to the pressure, the warmth, the fullness—

And yeah, you do feel him up to your chest.

You don’t know where your body ends and he begins.

All you know is… his measurement is right.

[miiyas]

oh, how he long to grow old with you. to suffer with back pains, headaches, and strands of silver hair shining in the sunlight together. to drive around and reminisce to your kids about your high school years, to come home to you and your voice, your kisses and your sweet embrace. he wants to build a home with you, whether it’s far away and in the feild where the sun sets beautifully every night or if it’s in a small, cramped apartment— decorated with things that make it a home. to hold your hand every night and listen to your whispers and laughter when he tickles your sides, to kiss you early in the morning before he goes to work, tucking you in. to see you in the morning everyday.

but for now, he’s gonna have to hide that pretty velvet box for a little longer, just until he gets your parents’ blessings.

HINATA, kageyama, oikawa, , KITA, miya twins, AKAASHI (hq), megumi, GOJO, ITADORI, NANAMI (jjk), CHUUYA, dazai, jouno, KUNIKIDA (bsd), WRIOTHESLEY, CHILDE, kazuha, zhongli, ayato, DILUC (gi) + ur favs !

[heartkaji]

★ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍’ 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 !

synopsis 𝜗ৎ in which the hq!! boys blow up your phone when you don’t pick up ❥ based on this tiktok trend. jjk version here

includes 𝜗ৎ kuroo, kenma, miya twins, suna rintarou, kiyoomi sakusa, akaashi keiji, bokuto koutarou, terushima yuuji

HEARTKAJI 2025. do not steal, edit, translate, or re-upload.