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a-kaash-me-outside · 3 months

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a bit dirty - ch6

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch6 [masterlist]

// a really great idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ~ 7392 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, squirting, sex in a bed!!, a lot of feelings and love!!!!, intimacy in more than just the bedroom fr, names names names pet names a million pet names, oral f!receiving, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: oh good god guys we're finally here. thanks to everyone who is going to read this last chapter even though it literally took me over 6 months to write it. i hope you enjoy it and i'm glad it's over and that it happened. ily all. hope u enjoy. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you’re not sure you’d admit it to anyone, but walking into osamu’s apartment for the first time feels like coming home after a long day at work. you can see yourself here, more than you can in your own apartment or your childhood home. you feel just a little bit more like yourself, shoulders relaxing in a way that you didn’t think they needed to, breath a tiny fraction steadier. you’re not sure you’ve felt this comfortable in a really long time.

you don’t have to ask him where to put your shoes or where to hang your jacket, and he doesn’t take them from you either. he doesn’t put them away for you or tell you to hang them on the hangers in the empty closet down the hall.

when he unlocks his door and pushes inside, you mimic his motions, placing your shoes gingerly on the rack to the right of the closet between his white sneakers and black work shoes, hanging your jacket on the empty hooks above the spot where you've just retired your shoes.

stepping deeper into his apartment, he offers a small, “so, welcome,” he says, gesturing to the living room, one hand softly wrapped around yours as he tugs you along. stepping past the barrier of the front door, further into osamu’s space, you don’t feel like a guest here. you just feel like you belong.

“oh my god, it’s so clean in here,” you say, a few paces ahead of him now, but he refuses to break contact, to let go of your fingertips so he walks quickly along with you.

“well, yea, i’m not really ever home,” he explains, shrugging, as you walk around his living room eyes stopping at the neatly organized coffee table with cork coasters and a yellow hard-covered book titled this book will make you kinder, at the photos on his wall of him and his brother and him and his restaurant and him and suna, at the plants in the window sill and the dustless, dirtless ledge beneath them.

you shake your head, “no, that’s not true. you come home after work and you’re here before you leave for work, and i’m sure you’re super busy leaving in the morning and super tired when you come home at night, so it’s really impressive that it’s really clean.”

he lets out a half-laugh, a breathy light scoff in the place of a real response. you turn around, looking at him directly with a mischievous look on your face, “unless you cleaned your apartment just for me tonight?”

osamu’s quiet, a very telling silence, a wordless admittance. “oh my god!” you say, hands on your hip, and the slight hold that he has on your fingertips isn’t broken yet, his hand now pressed against your side, fingers curling around your hip as he pulls you a little closer.

“okay!” he admits, “so i am pretty tidy anyways, but there may have been a few dishes in the sink and the bed might not have been made and the couch cushions didn’t look that good before but-”

you shake your head, clicking your tongue, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you tease, “how presumptuous of you that i would come back here after our date?”

“i didn’t think we’d just fuck in the bathroom again, baby, what was i supposed to do, you literally said-” he says, trying to explain himself, unstoppable smile on his face as he pulls you even closer to him.

“do you think i’m that kinda girl? to just fuck you on the first date?” you ask, palm flat against his chest now, the other hand snaking up to lazily drape around his neck.

he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around you tight around your arms and shoulders, holding you in place as he laughs so deep that it sends tingles and shivers down your spine and skin. “you’re very funny, y’know that?” he asks, squishing you against his chest as he presses kiss after kiss into the top of your head.

“you made the bed? fixed the couch cushions? samu, i mean, really, what did you think was going to happen tonight?” you giggle, emphasizing every other word dramatically as you squirm in his tight grasp.

“i mean,” he says, leaning back to look at the warmth on your face, the fluster that lies with it, “you are here, aren’t you? i couldn’t have been that wrong if the cleaning paid off.”

you giggle harder now, leaning up and pressing a kiss into wherever you can reach in his strong hold. “i sure am,” you agree. he loosens his grip, hand falling down your arm to thread his fingers with yours again. he pecks a small kiss against your lips and then your cheek.

“you sure are,” he says, warmly.

you really could’ve stayed in the middle of his living room forever surrounded by couches and books on shelves and an impressive entertainment system. you didn’t need any of it either, didn’t need a place to sit or things to keep you busy, you’d be really happy just staring at osamu for the rest of time, at hearing him laugh, at feeling his pulse in your palm.

“can i getcha a drink?” he asks, pulling you out of this mellow, love-struck state in the name of hospitality.

“only if i can come with you,” you say, looking over his shoulder into the kitchen. your motivation is 70% wanting to stay with osamu and 30% wanting to see what his kitchen looks like: what kind of mugs he has, where he keeps his silverware, if his knives and pans are on display or tucked away in cabinets.

“clingy,” he teases, smile huge because there wasn’t any way that he was leaving you alone for even a second.

“fine! i'll stay in here,” you pout.

he doesn’t respond, only laughs and pulls you by the hand, “come on, pretty.”

you don’t protest anymore, following along happily into the kitchen, forcing yourself to sit on the barstool in front of the bar rather than snoop in his cupboards and drawers. he’s hesitant to let his touch fall from yours, to let go of the contact he has on your hand and your hip, but he does, presses a small kiss into the side of your head, and walks deeper into his kitchen.

from here you can see the kettle on the counter and the knives on a metallic strip above the black countertop. the pans are nowhere to be seen. they must be hidden away somewhere safe. you don’t say anything and neither does he as he pulls wine glasses and mugs and cups out of the cupboard and places them on the countertop in front of you.

and you still don’t feel like a guest.

it feels like osamu getting you a drink is because he loves you, like you could get up and get your own if you wanted to, like you already knew where the tea bags were and the spoons and the shelf that the sugar resided, like next time you would return the favor, let him sit down for a minute while you made the two of you tea or poured another glass of wine.

“what’s it gonna be?” he asks, gesturing to your choices on the bar in front of you.

“y’know you could’ve just asked me that before pulling out all the cups?” you tease, eyes moving from cup to mug to wine glass.

he shrugs, “not as visual.”

“what are you in the mood for?” you ask, reaching to pick up the mug, black ceramic with a gray stripe along the base. you turn it over in your hand, running your fingers along the matte texture. yeah, this feels like a mug osamu would own.

“anything, really,” he says, smiling before the rest of the flirt even comes out of his mouth, “as long as i’m drinking it with you on my couch, i will be very happy.”

you roll your eyes. it’s really unfair how predictable, yet how adorable, he is when it comes to things like that. “alright, how about wine now, tea later?” you ask.

he rests both of his hands on the edge of the counter for a moment, nodding as he does, removing the cups from the counter and pushing the mugs towards the tea kettle. “sounds like a plan, angel,” he says, disappearing behind the pantry door and coming back with a bottle of wine.

he doesn’t recork the wine or put the bottle back, leaves it exactly where he sets it on the counter in a rush to just drink wine on his couch with you. he carries your glass for you as he guides you back to the couch.

sitting on the plush, perfectly set cushions, tucking yourself into the corner against the arm rest, osamu pressed up against you, pulling your legs over the tops of his, his hand resting comfortably on your calf, you’re not sure you’ll ever really be ready to go back to your own cold, lonely apartment. when you close your eyes, you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now.

your first glass of wine isn’t even finished before he interrupts your current conversation of favorite movies and media with a stupidly cute, nervous question, “so, can i ask you now?”

you want to be stunned or at least fake it, but you can only lean closer into him, setting your wine glass down on the coaster on the coffee table to wrap both of your arms around his bicep. “ask me what?” you tease.

he shakes his head, “y’know that night i thought you were so out of my league.”

you lean backwards, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, “no fucking way.”

“swear,” he laughs, leaning forward to set his glass down next to yours, “and i was out of my depth, had no idea what i was doing, just couldn’t stop staring at you-”

“oh, i know,” you say, recalling his smitten, lingering stare so perfectly that your face feels warm, “every time i would look over in your direction you would be looking at me like this.” you mimic your recollection as best as you can.

he puts his face in his hands. “that’s so embarrassing,” he says, and it’s muffled by his palms. you wrap your hands around his wrists, pulling them away from his face and kissing the backs of them.

“no, no, it was cute,” you say, but he still groans. you continue, “samu, i was into it, obviously.”

he explains further, “sumu was like shoving me over there so blatantly that i almost didn’t go over there.” he shakes his head at the memory, at the alternate universe where his stupid brother alone failed to start the best chain of events of his life. “and then omi leaned over to me and was like, ‘i'll distract your dumbass brother, go have a good night, you deserve it.’”

“remind me to thank him then,” you say, softly, shifting against the couch to lean against his shoulder instead of the armrest.

“will do,” he says, smile in his voice as he snakes his arm around your waist, hand resting on the side of your thigh. “i’ve thanked him plenty for both of us, but it might mean more coming from a new mouth.”

“you just say the most romantic things like it’s nothing,” you say.

“i don’t try,” he admits, “just hard not to be romantic when i’m with you.” he reaches across you with his other arm, pulls you further into his lap until both of your knees are on either side of his thighs and you’re facing him. “sorry,” he mumbles, “wanted to look at ya.”

“you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” you whisper.

his fingers scrape against the tops of your tights before rooting on your hips. he shakes his head. “it’s all you, really,” he whispers back. “these thoughts just come into my mind and i say them. love you so much, you make it easy.”

you’re very grateful for this position because it’s effortless to lean down and crash your lips into his, to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him deeper into the kiss, to feel his chest lift to kiss you harder. he tastes like expensive wine and a little bit like you still and you might cry, he’s just really perfect.

he places his hand on your shoulder, holds you in place as he leans back into the couch. the pout is already forming on your lip, so he runs his thumb across it gently. “will you be mine?” he asks, adding before you’ve even answered, “let me love you with labels.”

“oh my god, samu, you’re going to kill me, y’know that?” you say, hands cupping both of his cheeks before kissing him sweetly. “how do you expect me to keep up with this?”

“just say yes,” he says, quickly, “that’s enough for me.”

“of course,” you say, forehead resting gently against his, kiss placed on his nose and then the high of his cheekbone. you repeat it again just in case he missed it the first time, “of course.”

“i’m sorry that i didn’t make this happen sooner,” he says, soft sigh accompanying his remorseful tone.

“stop that,” you hush him.

“i mean it,” he says, sitting up into you a bit more, “if i would’ve figured my shit out sooner, we could’ve been doing this for months.”

“yeah, but you don’t know if everything would’ve turned out the same way,” you say, bringing your hands up into his hair, “if that would’ve been too soon or if we needed to go through all we went through to be as strong as we are now, there’s no way to know, really.”

he smiles at you, not opening his mouth to say anything, just soaking in the moment, humming at your astute thought. you continue, “i guess i just mean that, yea, getting more time with you would’ve been great, but we can’t do anything about that. so i’m just really glad to be with you now, here, drinking wine and sitting in your lap and kissing you.”

“and you say i’m the romantic,” he murmurs, kissing you once more.

“you are,” you argue.

/\ /\ /\

neither of you even finish your first glass of wine. even if you had, there was no way the two of you were untangling from each other and making your way into the kitchen for another, not in the middle of unimportance conversations about your thoughts on christmas lights or osamu’s thoughts on the type of pet he’d like to have one day.

but as the hours tick on, as the clock hands droop lower and lower, osamu knows that you need some sort of transition period to staying the night. “cup of tea before we go to bed?” he asks, head resting against the back cushion of the couch staring into your eyes with as much love as he can.

“are you being presumptuous again, samu?” you tease, but your eyelids are getting heavier and you can’t put a lot of effort into the taunting.

“i’m sorry, princess, do you want to stay the night?” he asks, gut-wrenchingly sincere.

“i would really love that, yea,” you say, flustered in the backfiring of your banter, “and tea sounds really nice too.”

he nods, once, short and happy, ready to move you off of his lap to go get the two of you a final drink before bed, but you get off of him first. “i’ll get it,” you offer, waiting with bated breath for him to fight you on it or to be weirded out by the forwardness of raiding his kitchen to feel the domesticity a little harder.

he doesn’t protest at all, lets the smitten, lingering stare last for a few moments before saying, “only if i can come with you.”

before you’ve made it to the kitchen with osamu in tow, he stops you, plants in place in front of the hallway to his bedroom, and nods towards it. “but first, can we get you into some comfier clothes?” he asks. “nighttime tea tastes better when you’re in comfy clothes,” he reasons. you can’t disagree.

you follow him down the hall to his room. you don’t get a good look at his plainly decorated room or the nicely made bed as you wait in the doorway. he returns quickly with a t-shirt of his. “you can change in the bathroom across the hall if you want,” he offers.

“you know you were inside of me in a fancy restaurant bathroom hours ago, right?” you ask, narrowing your eyes, pushing past him into his room and taking off all of your date clothes. osamu folds them neatly as you set them on the bed. when he picks up your torn tights, he can’t hold back his small laugh.

“oh yea, so funny,” you joke, “you can probably throw those away.”

“but they’re perfectly good for having sex in public bathrooms,” he jokes back.

you pull his shirt over your head, soft cotton taking the place of going out clothes and the difference is already lulling you to sleep. you’re determined to make osamu tea, but you can’t promise most of the cup won’t go cold on the counter.

it doesn’t take long for osamu to be on you, arms wrapped around your waist, hands roaming over your body, “you look so good right now.”

“shut up,” you say, pushing him away with the least amount of resolve anyone has ever had, “imagine how i feel looking at you wearing stuff like this.”

“you look better in it than i do,” he says, shaking his head.

“not possible,” you say back.

he leans down to kiss you once before reluctantly pulling away, walking back over to his dresser to change into comfier clothes as well. if you weren’t so stupidly tired, seeing osamu shirtless and in super casual sweatpants would’ve been the perfect catalyst for your first night together having sex in a bed.

tea. sleep. tea. sleep. tea. sleep. you remind yourself.

“c’mon, angel,” he coaxes, pulling you by your hand back down the hallway and into the kitchen. he leans against the countertop, doesn’t say another word or try to make you tea despite your earlier statement.

you start the kettle with the push of a button, pull the mugs from across the counter in front of you. you pluck two tea bags from the glass jar where they live. you have to open a few cupboards before finding the spoons, but the sugar is right where you think it will be.

“i think knowing that you take sugar in your tea is both the most surprising thing and also somehow completely aligns with who you are,” you reason, pouring the gently boiling water over the tea bags. by the time you finish your sentence, you’ve noticed the enamored look on his face, but you don’t have time to comment on it as he replies.

“that’s because you know me really well,” he says, nodding, loving smile still lingering. you put half of a spoonful of sugar into the cup, stir until it dissolves and then slid it against the countertop to him. he wraps his fingers around the warm cup, brings it to his lips, blows on it gently as if that’s going to do anything at all, and then takes the smallest sip. “perfect.”

you lean against the edge of the counter, holding the mug in your hands, waiting for the air to cool down the steaming beverage. “i think i’d be really okay with ending every single day of my life just like this,” you admit. if his eyes go wide or he recoils even the smallest percentage, you’ll blame it on the eventful day and the exhaustion that’s quickly overcoming you, but they don’t. his features soften, hand reaches across the counter to rub the back of your hand.

“me too,” he reciprocates. “you’ll have to stay over more often,” he doubles down.

“what?” you ask, taking a sip of your tea. you can feel the warmth hit your stomach. “have dinner ready for you when you come home and spend your nights off intertwined on the couch?” everything that you’re saying is getting closer and closer to practically asking to move in, but osamu doesn’t seem to mind.

“exactly that,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to see if you like my bed first, though, before you resign yourself to coming over every night.”

“every night?” you ask, cheeky smile the only form of teasing that you’re giving right now, “maybe we should go check it out then.” you take one more sip of your tea and then set the cup down on the counter. osamu doesn’t even do that, pulls you away from behind the counter and down the hall.

you climb into his bed, under his covers without asking or another mention. osamu joins you, climbing into the other side, and the two of you don’t waste a single second, curling up against each other, limbs lazily tangling, pressing up against one another as close as you possibly can.

“the first time we’re in a bed together and we’re not even having sex,” he says, softly, reaching over and turning off his bedside light. it takes a few moments for your eyes to get adjusted, to make out the shapes of his face in the dark.

“crazy, right?” you ask, smiling as you snuggling into his chest impossibly closer.

“i like this though,” he admits, traces his fingers up and down your arms, “just being in bed with you, falling asleep with you, means i get to wake up with you.”

you hum at his voice, soft and deep, and the darkness looks the same as it does with shut eyes, but you’re trying your best to not let the sleep take you that fast. “can you keep me awake?” you ask.

“you’re literally falling asleep as we speak,” he says, your eyelids fluttering shut as if to make a point. you shake your head, but you don’t say anything else. “why do you want me to keep you awake, babygirl?”

“cause i wanna be in this moment a little while longer,” you reason, breath taking over your voice as the darkness and warmth pull you into a comforting hug.

“we’ll have plenty of time for moments like this later,” he says, kissing the top of your head. “plenty of time, so go to sleep, angel.”

you’re not even embarrassed at how quickly you listen to him.

/\ /\ /\

if last night wasn’t enough to convince you that you were exactly where you needed to be for the rest of your life, waking up in osamu’s arms definitely was. they’re strong around you, wrapped tightly around your waist, nose nuzzled into the back of your neck, legs intertwined with yours.

you’re incredibly surprised that you’ve woken up first, but the second that you start to stir, osamu’s grip loosens, and his head peaks over your shoulder and he places a small kiss on your cheek. “mornin’,” he says, raspy as he talks off the sleep.

you turn in his arms, laying flat on your back so you can look at him directly. “good morning,” you say back, lifting your head to kiss him. “very good morning,” you say again.

“cute,” he murmurs against your lips, “stupidly cute.” you reach your arms up, draping them over his neck loosely to pull him down into you. “do you want breakfast or something?” he asks.

you shake your head, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “no,” you say, “well, maybe later? i think right now i just want, y’know, this.” you gesture with a small nod not really towards anything in particular, just to the situation.

he laughs, kissing the side of your face, “alright, this it is.”

you don’t say much else. nor does he. it’s all stolen kisses and roaming touches and silent exchanges. you don’t feel the need to talk, don’t have much to say, you’re communicating just fine without them.

every touch is getting needier, every kiss is getting longer, sloppier, more desperate, and the only thing that you’ve been able to think about for the last hour is all of the promises that have been made to you about after date things.

it doesn’t help that he’s on top of you now, tops of his thighs resting between your legs, hands on either side of your waist just looking at you like that. the first thing you say in over an hour is, “what, samu?”

he laughs, pushing his fingertips up your body, under the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and up until your entire stomach is exposed. “god, you’re so hot,” he says, grabbing onto your waist to pull you closer to him.

“samu,” you whine.

“what, doll? it’s true,” he says, pushing your shirt up even further now, tits on display so pretty that you can feel him begin to grow hard against your inner thigh. “so pretty,” he murmurs. he tugs your shirt off, tosses it to the side with no regard for the tidiness of his room anymore.

you’ve really never been this exposed before when you’ve had sex with osamu, always an article of clothes on, but now the only thing stopping you from being completely naked is the thin fabric of your panties and osamu’s fingers are already hooked in the waistband. you don’t protest as he drags them down your thighs, picks up your legs and rests them on his shoulder as he does.

he presses a kiss into the side of your leg, slowly drops them back around him. your stomach is in knots, can barely breathe with the way that he’s looking at you, eyes traveling down your body so slowly that you can see each point that they linger a second longer.

“fuck, you look good,” osamu says, leaning down to kiss your shoulders, your collarbones, your chest.

“shut up,” you murmur, fingers threading into his hair, scratching against the back of his head as he scrapes his teeth against your sensitive skin.

“no, i’m serious,” he says, leaning back, “you’re so fucking pretty, gorgeous actually.”

“ew, shut up,” you push him away jokingly, gently, “or i’m not going to let you fuck me unless we’re fully clothed ever again,” you joke.

he laughs against your neck, breath and vibrations tickling the wet skin. every single kiss feels personal, hand-crafted and perfectly thought of just for you. the placement is direct and purposeful and you can feel his love in every single one.

“god, i’m going to take my time with you,” he says, pulling away again. you can feel the blush blooming under your skin, warming up every inch of you, igniting fires in your stomach.

“first time that we have a lot of it,” you joke, coaxing him back up to your lips. “and first time that i don’t have to be situated on a sink or the floor.”

“so you’ll be perfectly comfortable,” he says, kisses trailing between your tits and down your stomach, “while i eat you all morning long.”

“samu,” you say, crook of your elbow rising up to your face to hide behind it. he reaches up, pulls it away from your face.

“don’t hide from me, doll, look so cute like that,” he says, laying between your thighs, pushing them open with familiar hands. you give in to the gentle pressure so easily that you swear you hear the faintest laugh coming from Osamu, but the light kisses peppering your thighs that follow gain your focus instantly.

it should feel agonizing, the way he takes his time dragging his lips across every part of the skin between your legs, kissing and biting lightly. but the longer he’s there the more laughter flutters through your chest, the more your cheeks flush, the more loved you feel. you bring your hands to his face as he rests his head against your knee cupping one under his jaw and using the other to push his hair back a little.

“make me feel so pretty, samu,” you mumble. he makes no attempt to answer, just holds your gaze with loving eyes as he brings himself to ghost near your already soaked pussy, the feeling his breath overwhelming any of your other senses.

“just want you to see yourself through my eyes, princess.” the end of his sentence comes with a long, slow swipe of his tongue against your hyper sensitive clit and it feels good to finally not worry about who can hear you.

you dig your head back into the pillow, hair already a mess after a perfectly restful night’s sleep. you can feel his eyes burning into you, even if you can’t see them, even if your focus is really anywhere but the agonizing feather-like touches between your legs.

it’s a shame, you think, but only for a moment, that his mouth is so busy that you can’t hear him call you pretty names or poke fun at you for whining so much. only for a moment.

if there’s one thing that osamu cannot be called it’s all-or-nothing. osamu doesn’t do all-or-nothing; he does slowly, consistently, comfortably, and then all. this is no exception. he runs his tongue between your puffy lips, smears your juices all over your sensitive pussy with the tip, and then he eats you- not like a man-starved, but like a man who he gets to indulge in his favorite dessert.

his fingertips are digging into the fat of your hips, palms pressing to keep you in place, to keep you from squirming, and it’s working. he lets you scratch your nails into his hair, down the back of his neck, resting on the tops of his shoulders. you don’t guide him, don’t buck your hips impatiently, you don’t need to. if he isn’t lapping exactly where you want him to, you know he will be soon, you know it’s deliberate, you know that he knows what’s best for you even if you have to wait for it.

you’re not sure you know how many times you come on his tongue, how many are attributed to just his tongue and how many are attributed to the noises that he’s making, the grunts that are coming from his throat, the mumbled praises that he’s whispering against your soaked folds, the squeaking of the mattress from the soft grinding that he’s doing against the blankets.

without a watch, you’d have claimed you were there for hours, all morning, just like he said. you’re not sure if he would’ve stopped either, if you hadn’t sat up on your forearm, somehow more out of breath than he was, and tugged on his hair. “samu, baby,” you whine.

you can’t help it, the even-more-breathless-breathlessness that hits you when he looks into your eyes, bottom of his face soaked with you, licks his lips, wipes the rest of it with his palm, and crawls slowly up to meet you. he kisses you hard, as hard as you’ll let him, and then he kisses you again, and then he kisses your cheek, and then your jaw, then your neck, mumbles against your skin, “what do you want now, bunny?” he’ll give you anything. “i’ll give you anything.” you know that he will.

the opportunities are endless. the world is your oyster. anything that you ask for, he will give you, and it will be wrapped with neat paper and a pretty bow with a handwritten note several miles long. you swallow, eyes searching his face for nothing in particular, just because he’s pretty and because he’s yours.

“i don’t think i have anything to ask for, because you’re already mine,” you whisper.

his face lights up, skin hot and flushed on the highs of his cheeks and traveling down his neck and chest. for a second it looks like he short-circuits, like you’ve broken him just by telling him the truth, and then, in a second, the world catches back up to him.

he shakes his head slowly and then you’re on top of him, sat with both legs on either sides of his, strong hands steadying you before you can even clock that you need to be steadied. “you’re really asking for it, huh?” he asks, and now you’re feeling warm.

“i- what are you talking about, samu,” you say, eyebrows furrowed. you can feel his hips- and yourself- lift off the bed as the fabric between the backs of your thighs and the tops of his is replaced with soft skin. you yelp softly as you’re lowered back down, hands on your inner thighs pushing you back just enough for his cock to rest between them.

you’re soaking wet, making a mess between your lips and on the insides of your legs and now all over his hard cock, slowly pushing through your pressed together thighs. he brings his hips off the bed, steady thrusts rocking the mattress ever so slightly, both his hands squeezing the outsides of your thighs. he clicks his tongue, “saying shit like that, angel, you know i’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“samu,” you repeat, breathless. “what ar-.”

he cuts you off, sliding his thumb from the tip of his cock to the base, his leaking head slipping between your messy lips until it’s teasing your hole. “sound so in love with me, baby, need to fucking feel you around me so fucking bad right now,” he breathes, sharp inhale punctuating his sentence as he pulls you by your hips until you’re fully seated on his cock.

you don’t know if the warmth is coming from the blush or touch of his skin or the desire that’s burning in your core, but it’s there, and before you can even fully register what he’s saying, he’s honest-to-god whimpering, spouting more lovey bullshit, “god, it’s like falling in love with you made you fit even more perfectly around me.” he lifts you slightly, fingers digging into your hips as he lets you slowly fall back down onto his cock.

he tilts his head into the pillow, but immediately picks it back up, locking eyes with you before letting his gaze fall down your body, like he can’t believe you really exist, like he can’t believe he let himself relax into a position where he couldn’t see you at all times, like he “can’t believe you’re fucking real,” he grunts, “and that you’re all fucking mine.”

“osamu, if you don’t knock it off,” you say. you’re only half-joking. you’re not sure that you could take him talking to you like this for much longer. you feel so full, every part of you feels so full. you slide your hands down his chest, palm against his rapidly beating heart acting as leverage as you start moving in time with him.

you close your eyes, partially to focus on the parts of you that are on fire right now, and partially so that you don’t have to keep looking at how much osamu is looking at you. he can’t keep his hands off of you, can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“can’t help it, pretty, not when i get to savor it like this,” he says, brings his chest up and wraps his arms around your back, holding you securely to him. he kisses the side of your face, whispers in your ear, “not when i finally get to fuck you in my bed and tell you that i love you and see you- all of you.”

“are you trying to make me cry or something?” you ask, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, forcing his attention on just your eyes and the hints of shyness strewn all over your face.

a slight smirk is followed by raised eyebrows and a tiny kiss to the temple. osamu flips you over, lying you gently on your back while you’re still fully encompassing him. “that can be arranged, puppy,” he says, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders and chest. he slams his hips into you and you can’t help the pleasured, high-pitched moan that comes as a result. in fact, you can’t help the ones that come one after another after another as he keeps snapping his hips, insides of your thighs growing raw from the impact.

you’re babbling at this point, a symphony of half-finished words and tiny whimpers, and when a single tear breaks free of your blurred waterline, osamu can’t hold back. “fuck, holy fuck, babygirl, you sound so good, don’t stop, princess, keep making those cute fucking noises, fuck, sound so good.”

you shake your head no and hope that he understands what it means, that you won’t stop as long as he doesn’t. you’ll cry and scream and make cute little noises for him forever if he never pulls out of you.

you’ve always known that fucking in bathrooms has been disadvantageous, you just couldn’t pinpoint it, not when it always felt so good anyway. you never thought the space bothered you or the hard, cold various materials of sinks or the fact that people were often only a door away; you never thought any of that mattered until now, now when you can cry for him and feel the softness of the blankets beneath you and the plushness of the pillow behind your head.

“baby,” you cry, “i’m- you’re gonna- fuck, i love you so much. i’m-.” you throw your head back, you can’t finish your half-constructed sentence before osamu is fucking you faster, harder, wrapping an arm around your lower back and lifting you up the slightest bit to angle you perfectly. your hand moves on instinct, reaches down between your legs and circles your throbbing clit for only a second before you’re squirting all over him, a release of pressure drenching him as you gasp for air, drawing in enough breath to cry out his name.

you place your hand on his lower abs, eyes closing softly to center yourself. you could’ve passed out right here, slept for a million years, and you’re not sure you would’ve completely recovered. your body is shaking, throat is sore, and when you open your eyes, osamu is looking at you with such adoration and awe that you’re certain you’ve missed something.

“the first time we’re not in a fucking bathroom and you fucking make me squirt,” you mumble, shaking your head, “what are we going to do with you?” you ask, removing your hand from his stomach, silently letting him know you’ve recovered enough for him to keep going.

“i don’t care,” he says, kissing your jaw, “i don’t care what you do with me for the rest of my life, that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen.”

“you made a mess,” you tease.

“i made a mess?” he asks.

you nod.

he breathes a laugh before accepting responsibility, “i made a mess,” he confirms.

“so you’ve gotta do one thing for me,” you say, circling your hips, matching his lazy thrusts as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“anything,” he says. and you know that he means it.

you use your loose grip around his neck to coax him closer to you, your lips now pressed against his ear. “need you to make a mess inside of me, samu, please,” you say, low enough to send shivers down his spine from the tone alone. his hips stutter. he wants to regain composure, to not give in to blowing his load deep inside of you just from you saying his name and asking him nicely, he really wants to savor it and last a little bit longer.

but you’re so wet. you’re drenched, but you’re still so tight and sucking him in so nicely, perfectly sculpted for him, gummy walls still clenching and fluttering from your orgasm, and you kiss the skin right below his ear and you say, “please, i’ve been waiting for it ever since i fucking met you, please, don’t make me wait any longer.”

and he can’t.

he wouldn’t.

he doesn’t.

he snaps his hips forwards, pressing himself flush against the insides of your thighs and releases deep inside of you. you can feel his cock pulse with each stream, feel yourself getting fuller and fuller and fuller with each throb and accompanying grunt. you can’t get enough. you don’t want it to ever stop, but it does. he keeps himself deep inside of you for a moment, not wanting to lose the feeling just as much as you don’t.

when he starts to get soft, he pulls out, come dripping out of your hole and onto the blankets below just adding to the mess the two of you have created in the span of a few hours. he doesn’t exactly know where to go, what to do. the two of you could’ve passed out just like this, intertwined together and had the most incredible sleep of your entire life, if it weren’t for the huge mess beneath you.

“what now?” you mumble, not moving.

you feel osamu flop next to you. you’re not sure if he’s avoided the mess or if he’s embraced it. part of you wants to stand up and apologize and start throwing his bedspread in the washer, but that part of you isn’t winning, not today. if that part of osamu exists, it’s not winning either. he wraps his arms around your waist, rests his head on your chest, pulls you into him.

“are we just going to lay in this?” you say, laughing. it sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth, but you’re sure it wouldn’t take much convincing for you to not have to move from this very spot. osamu doesn’t answer you, but you feel him unwrap from your body and then get off the bed. you go to sit up, but you don’t make it that far, opening your eyes as osamu pulls the blankets out from under you and throws them in a heap in the corner of his tidy room. he opens the closet door and comes back with a spare, small, but clean blanket.

he reassumes his position on the now-much-more-acceptable bed, throwing the blanket overtop of you and him and cuddling into your side. “is that better?” he asks, but he doesn’t really expect a response. your small smile and content hum is all he needs.

after only a few moments, recuperated by a clean blanket and strong arms, your body is ready to move onto the next thing, ready to get up and start making breakfast or start kissing him again or start getting ready for work despite how long you have until your shift. your skin is antsy, pulse is quickening. there are a trillion things in your head that you want to do with osamu, plenty of dull activities that seem like they’ll be much better with him by your side. you want to see them. you want to do them.

osamu shifts and pulls you into his chest, kisses the top of your head. “love you, angel,” he murmurs into your hair. “love you so much,” he says again. you feel calmer now, the most at ease you’ve ever been, because you know that there’ll be time for all of that, plenty of time, hours and hours of time to do all of the things that you want to do with osamu, more time than you know what to do with, you just know it.

for now, all you have to do is lay here, in bed, surrounded by warmth in more ways that you thought were possible, maybe let sleep take you again or stay awake in these passing moments, it doesn’t really matter. your exhale is steady, matches with his. you close your eyes and you can see this moment next week and next month and three years from now.

you look happy there.

you look really happy there.

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s @dovenu @heirxx @kur0obaby @tetsuswhore @alienvarmint @georgettesand @misfit-megumi @bijuu-naginata @captain-alien-america @ti-mame @buckys-hoeee @whos-curiosity-killed-the-cat @stargazing-girl @whoisgami @zany17 @privthemis @pennylanewrites @buckys-hoeee @avfox24 @reinertiddiejuice @poke-pia @its-simply-me19 @nahcho @sugamonster22 @destinyg237 @msbyomimi

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

tori talks more: i do not know if i'll be around to write more to be honest with you. like i probably will at some point, but who knows. maybe when the new movie comes out. maybe ill do a jjk pivot bc i just finished it. feel free to scream in my inbox abt it or this or whatever. ily all and im so glad i could finally finish this. <3 :)

#osamu x reader #osamu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #osamu x reader smut #hq x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haiykuu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader smut #osamu x reader fluff #osamu fluff #osamu fic #hq fic #toriwritesshit #abd update!

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moonbeam-writing · 1 year

Note

Hii! :) may I request an Osamu x fem reader where Osamu has a crush on the team manager? And also maybe a confession to!

Thank you for your time ❤️

-Anon

— Miss Manager

๑ Requested by a lovely Anon!

๑ Characters: Osamu Miya (Haikyuu)

๑ Quick Note: I'm so sorry that this took so long, lovely! I hope you enjoy this regardless!

๑ Contains: Fluff; Third Person from Osamu’s perspective; Use of She/Her Pronouns for the Reader; SFW

—

"Starin' again, 'Samu?" Osamu blinked, being pulled back into reality. Atsumu's hand rested on his twin's shoulder before Osamu shook it off.

"What d'ya mean?" Atsumu rolled his eyes as Osamu took a step away from him, looking away from where he was before. Osamu didn't need to tell Atsumu anything. Especially if Atsumu already knew.

Sometimes, Osamu wondered how he got where he had in his life. He had become a living cliche, getting a crush on his team's manager. How couldn't he, though? She was beautiful. And sweet. And-

"Osamu, are you okay?" Her voice replaced his brother's, and Osamu nearly jumped out of his skin. There (Y/N) stood, giving him a concerned smile, slightly furrowed brows, and his water bottle in hand.

"Yeah," Osamu smiled. "I'm okay. Thanks, (Y/N)."

"Of course." All he could focus on was her smile and how sweet it was, purposefully ignoring his brother laughing with Suna behind him. They didn't matter when (Y/N) was there in front of him. "You're doing great today, you know!"

The tips of Osamu's ears warmed at her compliment, and the boys behind him laughed louder. "And you do great everyday, (Y/N)." Osamu now felt paralyzed. Any heat that had built up during practice was now replaced with a cold feeling and a sinking gut. Oh no, Osamu thought, there's no way I just said that. His mind raced as he stared at the space right above (Y/N), unable to risk looking her in the eye.

"Thanks, Samu!" She smiled widely. "You're so sweet!"

"Oi, Samu! Either confess yer feeling's or come back to practice!"

"Damn, sorry for keeping you, Osamu! I didn't realize break was over. Oops, haha." Atsumu's taunt may have gone right over her head, but he was right - Osamu needed to tell (Y/N) how he felt.

"No, no, you're perfect! Um, I, uh,"

"Samu!" Atsumu yelled.

"Shut up!" Osamu yelled back, turning his head and seeing Suna with his phone pointed at them and Aran giving him a thumbs up. "Go on a date with me since we have a free day tomorrow?"

"Of course, I will, Osamu!" She pressed her lips against his cheek with a warmth spreading across her cheeks as she turned to walk toward Kita, undoubtedly to apologize for keeping them from practicing.

With a smug grin on his face, Osamu turned back to face Atsumu and Suna, promptly flipping them both off.

#anon request! ♡#haikyuu #haikyuu request #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabble #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader request #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader drabble #haikyuu x manager!reader #haikyuu x f!reader #osmau miya #osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu fluff #osamu miya fluff #osamu x reader fluff #osmau miya x reader fluff

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torubeth · 2 years

Text

y/n : “i love you”

him : “don’t do this y/n” *looks at you seriously*

y/n : “do what ?”

him : “say ‘i love you’ outta nowhere. can’t help it, my heartbeat’s rising and i get all nervous…”

y/n : “wait- oh. do i make you nervous ? is that it ?” *takes a second and smirks* “i love you! i love you so much baby!”

him : *leaves with his hands covering his ears* “stop! nope, can’t hear a single thing!”

IWAIZUMI HAJIME, TSUKISHIMA KEI, TOORU OIKAWA, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, Suna Rintarou, Miya Osamu, Kenma Kozume, Kuroo Tetsurou, NISHINOYA YUU

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #suna x reader fluff #iwaizumi x reader fluff #sakusa x reader fluff #oikawa x reader fluff #tsukishima x reader fluff #kenma x reader fluff #osamu x reader fluff #nishinoya x reader fluff #iwaizumi x y/n #kuroo x reader fluff #kuroo x y/n #tsukishima x y/n

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lovelyunholyc · 11 months

Text

tw! alcohol

the shift is so subtle that had you known him just a little less, you would have missed it.

but as it is, there isn't anyone you know better, if the ring on your finger is any indication.

you lean into his side a bit more, emptying the rest of your drink before tilting up to peck at the edge of his jaw. "ready to go, honey?"

osamu presses into your touch as if on instinct, his smile soft and grateful, his arm around your waist flexing. "how did ya know?" his fingers squeeze at the outside of your thigh in appreciation before he takes your empty cup and stacks his over it and downs the meager dregs of his drink, too.

you smile back at him, watch his adam's apple bob when he swallows, marvel at how handsome he looks just doing the most mundane things. you shrug in answer, as if it hadn't been obvious only to you. it's in the tired droop of his eyes despite the little spark of contentment in them (imperceptible to anyone else), the slight sag of his broad shoulders. exhaustion was catching up to him, delayed by the initial joy of seeing his friends again. "let's go home."

he kisses your forehead, always reciprocating for every tender little action, before standing and bringing you up with him, grinning when you giggle.

you're side by side saying your goodbyes, feeling him squeeze your hand when you indulge his brother in "one more shot for the road", see the good-natured roll of his eyes out of the corner of yours right before you lean in to kiss a drunkenly enthusiastic atsumu goodbye on the cheek.

it may be the buzz of that last drink that brings heat seeping up into your face, but you have reason to believe it could just as well be the kiss osamu gives you just before he closes your car door for you, always the gentleman. that tender warmth doesn't leave you long after the alcohol has worn off, after all.

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h2uji · 1 year

Text

ADORABLE CHUBBY CHEEKS!! ‹𝖧𝖠𝖨𝖪𝖸𝖴𝖴› 🏐

#pairing. Osamu, Hinata.

#genre. F!reader, Fluff, (d/n daughter's name), (s/n son's name).

#warning.. ‑

cute moments with the HQ boys kids

OSAMU squints his eyes, carefully applying the melted chocolate on top of the cake with a swirl focusing on writing his daughter's name under the 'happy birthday' neatly on her first birthday mini vanilla cake that him and his wife made it by themselves

"PAPA" hearing her tiny voice made him frown his eyebrows In confusion, didn't he tell his wife that it has to be a 'surprise' by keeping d/n distracted, well she think that's stupid she's only 1 doesn't even know that, just a toddler.

turning his head toward her his face softened when he noticed her cute pink puffy dress and the white colored bow band around her head, the wobbly steps walking toward her father with a smile

placing the swirl on the counter he lift her up kissing her forehead, "will hello princess, Don't you look nice on that tiny dress?" she start giggling placing her tiny hands on her fathers cheeks, "since you're here why don't you help me, your mother ruined the surprise anyways" he frowned as he pulled her chair closer to the cake and placing her

connected the seat belt he sighed "Alright baby look" opening the high cabinet he toke the rainbow sprinkles out slightly shaking it then twisting the lid open "now look carefully princess, I'll show you how its done" he carefully applied it on top of the cake slightly sticking his tongue out while d/n mouth was open her sparkly eyes are on the colorful sprinkles craving on eating them alone instead

"your turn" handing it to her he watched her is her tiny arms reached to taking it away "alright just like ho-" he got interrupted by his daughter who raised her head and opened her mouth shaking the sprinkles in her mouth "NO" quickly taking the sprinkles away from her

"mmm" a few sprinkles went down her tongue sucking the flavors, but she pouted it wasn't enough to satisfy her, "its for the cake baby" he continued on adding more while his daughter was still tasting the flavor on her tongue sucking and biting on her lower lip

she looked so cute her feet dangling on her high chair, her big eyes that look exactly like him staring at the cake, those chubby cheeks and the smile that look exactly like her mothers probably his Favorite thing about both of them.

HINATA "I can go my fever isn't that bad shoyo" your eyes were half lidded with a runny nose and dirty used tissues were all over the bed and floor, it was obviously a lie "NO darling rest how is 39.2 C fever isn't bad, me and s/n will go buy groceries real quick, right little man?" looking down at his 6yrs old who looked up at him with a smile and raised his arms "YES" walking to his mom who was laying on bed with cool wet towel placed on her forehead, "don't worry mommy"he ran his little fingers on her sweaty hair.

putting s/n inside the kart he took the grocery list out of his back pocket "alright bud, here is the list mommy gave us" he handed the paper to him relying on him to read it, "you read and I'll push the kart ok?" s/n took it with excitement on his eyes as he nodded his head aggressively

Hinata pushed the cart to the dairy section “Read the first grocery”, the 6yrs old squints his eyes as he opened his mouth “eggs” looking around the fridges he smiled when he found the eggs “EGGS RIGHT THERE” he pointed with his index finger

his father smiled at him as he petted his head "good job little man" pushing the kart he grabbed the egg trey placing it on the kart "alright what's next?", s/n slid his index finger on the paper as he start to get sweaty at the long word he was trying to read "t-to-ma" rising his head to look at his father waiting for his help but he only nodded at him

"I know you can read it bud, just divide them remember?" giving him a closed eye smile and pulling the stroller to the side, "u-uhm" s/n gulped once again squints his eyes trying his best to read the 8 words, "See the first 4 words you can read that right?", the orange haired kid nodded his head "alright read it nice and slow"

taking a deep breath he started "toma" Hinata patted his head praising him "good job!, now the other 4 words" s/n hummed giggling at the word "toes" looking at his dad he connected the words "tomatoes!" rising his hand for a high-five, s/n slaped his palm on his "you did great baby, now to the vegetable section!"

©h2uji ⋅ Please do not repost my work ⋅ or translating it in any other platform

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tomitsuya · 1 year

Text

HOT COCOA

summary: there’s something so warm and comforting about your best friend, miya osamu. you just wish you stopped feeling a ferocious flutter every time you look at him

pairing: miya osamu/f! reader

tags: friends to lovers, timeskip, msby appearance, fluff

It's tough out there– Christmas is peak couples’ season and you’re surrounded by happy couples entwined everywhere you go. Lest you sound like a jilted heroine, you angrily push through a couple of them as you rush to Osamu’s restaurant for dinner. You hated being reminded about your singlehood– whether at work or in public, or on social media. This time of the year is especially draining.

Osamu invited you as an end of the year treat– he was closing Onigiri Miya until the new year and he invited you, along with a couple of other guests for a small party. As far as you knew, his brother and some of the MSBY players were also going to be in attendance.

You’re the last to arrive at the party because you missed your train, so most of the guests are inside and there’s a gentle hum of activity. Osamu’s back is turned to everyone as he dices some spring onions behind the counter. His muscles flex as he works on his cooking, dressed in nothing other than a thin, black t-shirt. You stare for a moment longer than you’d like, admiring his strong arms and hands prepare the vegetables with utmost care.

“Y/N!” Atsumu hollers, calling you into the restaurant.

Osamu’s ears perk up and he looks over at you. He gives you a quick smile which you return shakily, still simmering in the shame over nursing your attraction to your best friend. It was embarrassing– being an adult and having a crush on your childhood best friend but you were determined to ignore it.

Atsumu beckons you over to where he is, joined by his teammates and a girl. Before you can ask, Atsumu answers any questions you might have had.

“This is Hana, my girlfriend.”

You nod, giving her a brief smile. Hinata and Bokuto bombard you with questions, while Sakusa nurses his glass of tea silently. Atsumu and Hana seemed wrapped up in each other, so much so that you can’t help but feel a touch jealous. Not of Hana– never, no– but that they had each other when every atom in the atmosphere was reminding you of the joys of being in love.

Osamu joins the group a little while after, sliding a tray of Atsumu’s favourite negitoro onigiri towards him. Atsumu thanks his brother and tucks in with gusto, disgusting Sakusa, who hides his mouth behind his collar. You pat Sakusa on the back sympathetically, earning you the smallest of smiles from him, a miracle in its own right, and go on with your night, sampling a little of everything Osamu put out for the party.

Once the party cleared out, with a tipsy Atsumu draped on his girlfriend and having to be led out, you stuck behind to help Osamu with the clean-up.

“I don’t mind,” he smiles, “Ya can head home too.”

“Well, I don’t mind staying.”

“Alright,” he tosses you a damp rag for you to wipe down the tables.

“This yer first time meetin’ Hana?” He asks.

“Yeah, why?” You reply, cocking an eyebrow.

Osamu’s done washing up and starts putting away the dry utensils and plates.

“She seems nice, doesn’t she?” He asks cryptically.

You nod. “Yeah, they seem happy. I’m happy for Atsumu.”

“Ya were starin’ at them the whole night,” Osamu observes quietly, setting down the plate he was drying with more force than necessary.

It rings throughout the quiet restaurant.

“What are you talking about?” You ask.

“Nothin’, just wonderin’ if my idiot brother gettin’ a girlfriend made you jealous,” despite him trying to come across as light-hearted, you notice a palpable bitterness in his tone.

“It doesn’t, because I don’t have feelings for Atsumu. What’s bringing this on?” You move closer to him.

“Ya just keep goin’ on about how all the couples annoy you around this time of year and I saw you starin’ at Atsumu, and I couldn’t help but wonder.” He says placidly, not meeting your eyes, “That maybe yer just jealous.”

“Hey, I confided those things to you in good faith,” you frown, “Not for you to throw them back into my face.”

“Well, maybe if you stopped whinin’ and saw what was in front of ya, then I wouldn’t have to.”

“What are you even talking about?” You ask, tugging on his arm to get him to face you.

“I like ya,” he says bashfully, “And it's buggin’ me to see yer moonin’ over everyone, even though I’m right here.”

“And how was I supposed to know that?” You say, and even though your tone is biting, you’re more than a little pleased that he returns your feelings.

“Dunno,” he mumbles.

You roll your eyes, “Osamu, ugh, look at me.”

He meets your eyes shyly, so unlike his usual confident self. Osamu seems shocked that he confessed to you, more surprised than even yourself. You lick your lips as you search to find the words, but Osamu takes that as an invitation to lean in and kiss your lips softly.

“Was that okay?” He asks.

“Yes,” you breathe, “And I’m going to kiss you now.”

Before his lips can curl into a smile, you’ve met his lips and throw your arms around his neck. Osamu reciprocates enthusiastically, picking you up and setting you on the counter.

“Stop complainin’ now, because ya got me. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Aw!” Atsumu’s shrill voice cuts through your moment.

The both of you jump up and look at him, but neither of you bother to unwrap your arms from the other.

“I left my wallet, and I came to get it,” he explains, “Sobered up when I got home and Hana made me come back to get it.”

You nod, but Osamu grumbles at him.

“Yer make a cute couple! Goodnight!” Atsumu laughs on his way out.

Osamu grumbles once more, “I’m tellin’ mom he was bein’ rude to you.”

You slap his chest at the obvious lie but he just grins devilishly, caging you against the counter in his strong arms. His lips skim the skin of your neck, teeth nipping you when he reaches your ear.

“I’m gonna make ya some hot cocoa after this,” he says as seductively as he can, “with marshmallows and everythin’.”

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #osamu x reader fluff #osamu x you #miya osamu x you #miya osamu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #by: tomitsuya #series: 22xmas

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reverie-starlight · 1 year

Note

can i request headcanons?? if so i’d like to request for baker!reader with their own bakery with post time skip osamu <33

YESSSSSSSSSSSS THIS IS SO CUTE!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!

I wasn't sure if you wanted meet-cute/first meeting or established relationship so I tried to do both :) ty for the request!! writing it as I enjoy some carrot cake hehe <3

{sweet and savory- m. osamu HCs}

warnings: none, just fluff!! lots of fluff. also me not knowing shit about business despite all the business majors I know.

gn!reader, baker!reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

okay so

when you first opened up your bakery, you were not expecting to be located right next to another young restaurant owner

you were a bit intimidated before actually settling into your new space

you had only ever been in the area to scope out the location and make note of the surrounding shops

so you had assumed the neighboring restaurant you observed to be extremely popular would have been around for years, or family owned, perhaps

but no. you were wrong. and you found this out a week after officially opening

after greeting your employees and opening up shop, the first customer through the door was the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life

you stared at him from behind the counter for a good ten seconds before he shifted uncomfortably and dinged the bell at the cash

you snapped out of it and sheepishly went to greet him

"good morning, sir, how can I help you today?"

"are you the owner? I'm miya osamu, I own the onigiri shop right next door."

you blinked. once, twice and then a third.

he was the owner of the crazy popular restaurant next door?

someone who didn't look much older than you?

you gaped at him and he laughed a bit

"I wanted to come in durin' yer opening ceremony, but some things came up that I couldn't miss, and this is the first chance I'm getting to properly congratulate you on openin' up shop."

"oh! that's very kind of you. and to answer your first question, yes, I'm the owner," you smiled "I wasn't expecting there to be another young business owner right next door. and for such a successful one, too, wow!"

he grinned and rubbed a hand behind his neck. "thank you... but um, part of the reason I wanted to welcome ya personally was 'cause I wanted to let ya know I'm here if ya need anything. starting up can be rough sometimes, but havin' a friend who's sorta in the same boat would be nice for both of us."

"that's so kind, thank you!"

and from there your friendship blossomed

for about a year you guys would visit each other on your breaks, bounce ideas off of each other and hang out outside of work

it did eventually grow into more, and soon enough you started dating

(he asked atsumu how he should ask you out and then did anything BUT what he suggested, he told you later on)

now onto your relationship~

at home dates consisted of cooking/baking lessons for each other and movie nights

sometimes you'd surprise him with your cooking and he's show up with a poor attempt at a baked good (but you gave him kisses for trying anyway)

eventually you moved in together

and waking up was rough because you opened your bakery early in the morning, so when you had to head out for work and leave him in bed, he was so tempted to just pull you back in

getting used to the new schedule was rough in general actually

bc you opened early and closed early, he opened later and closed later

but since his restaurant had been running a little longer at that point, he didn't always need to stay late, he had a bit more freedom as the owner

which means when he came home early, he was greeted with the sight of you with batter on your clothes and flour on your face, totally focused on the new cake recipe you were putting together

you would always turn around when you noticed him and grinned, pulling him to the counter and making him taste test

and of course you act as a test subject for his new recipes as well

atsumu literally worships the ground you walk on because you always give him the test batches that went slightly wrong for free

you tell him that they won't taste as good as the good ones and you'd be happy to let him have a free sample from your actual shop when he visits but he insists the ones that either have too much baking soda or too little sugar are more than fine

but whenever he does go to visit osamu, he always ends up in your bakery a bit longer for the amazing sweets anyway

you trade stories about osamu and he finds this out one day when he walks into your shop and sees atsumu stuffing his face with cupcakes

you nearly had to break up a fight in your cozy little bakery that day

you also had to promise osamu that you'd give him more cupcakes than you gave his twin

anniversaries and holidays are amazing bc you bake stuff for him as gifts, he literally cannot get enough of your baking, he is such a sweet tooth

he probably also comes up with really sickeningly sweet pet names for you that are bakery/pastry related ://

he unironically thinks its cute but you have to beg him to stop calling you his little strawberry shortcake in public

obviously he picks up on your dislike for it but that only fuels his fire more (only when he wants to get you riled up ofc)

will walk into your bakery when he knows you're at cash and say very loudly

"hello there my sweet pumpkin pie, how has your day been?"

now you were almost the cause of a fight in your cozy little bakery.

"'samu I swear to every higher power there is if you don't stop-"

there would also be late night talks of how you could both grow your shops further and expand

all in all he loves working right next door to you and having you in all other aspects in his life as well <3

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!!! sorry for the long wait. and if anyone has trouble with the pink text, let me know!! I can change it back to black, I just wanted to try something new :)

pls consider liking and reblogging <3

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

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strwbrryeyes · 4 months

Text

𖦹°｡⋆ osamu as a best friend

⟡ cw: not much really but lmk if im wrong

⟡ a/n: i was really hungry writing this.

⟡ best friend series: suna, atsumu, kita, aran, || masterlist

best friend osamu who you met in your second year of middle school when you both fought over the last onigiri in the lunch line.

best friend osamu who gave in and let you have it.

best friend osamu who was surprised the next day when you brought him onigiri you made at home because you felt bad.

best friend osamu who you got closer to when you found out you were going to the same high school and were placed in the same class.

best friend osamu who would occasionally skip practice just to hang out with you.

best friend osamu who noticed you were bad at packing your own food so he started bringing you bento boxes that had something new in them every day (but always had onigiri)

best friend osamu who would ask you to stay and watch him practice so he wouldn't have to deal with atsumu's tantrums alone.

best friend osamu who asked the coach if you could sit on the bench with him at games since the team didn't have a manager (you ended up becoming one by accident because of this but you're not complaining)

best friend osamu who would make you watch cooking competitions on your weekend hangouts.

best friend osamu who had to block suna on your phone because he kept sending you embarassing pictures of osamu.

best friend osamu who you went to college with because you have learned that you can't live without his lunches.

best friend osamu who knocked on your dorm every morning to make sure you don't oversleep your classes.

best friend osamu who has a key to your dorm because you still wouldn't wake up so he would barge in and hit you with a pillow.

best friend osamu who stayed up all night with you to study because you have an awful attention span.

best friend osamu who opened onigiri miya after graduation thanks to your encouragement (also gave you a temp job there until you got your offical career started)

best friend osamu who named an item on the menu after you as a way to ask you to be his girlfriend.

best friend osamu who is now boyfriend osamu who is covered in rice because you forgot you had a bowl of rice in your hands when you went to go hug and kiss him to say yes to being his girlfriend.

#𖦹°｡⋆ 𝓃𝒾𝓃𝒾 #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #haikyuu fluff #osamu miya fluff #osamu fluff #osamu x reader fluff #osamu miya x reader fluff

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lovedazai · 6 months

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WHEN YOU CAN’T FALL ASLEEP

ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor

p.s.! ₊˚. for all my sleepy girls (gn) we’re in this together

DAZAI ー dazai’s futon doesn’t allow you much space to move. you try to shift again, as delicately as you can with his body curled around yours. no matter how hard you tried to match your breathing to his, close your eyes, and relax, you just couldn’t seem to fall asleep tonight.

the last thing you want is to disturb him. dazai barely got enough rest, only sleeping through the night occasionally; he looks so pretty when he does, with his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, letting out soft, shallow breaths against your chest through his parted lips.

you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and dropping your head back onto your pillow, when you hear a familiar whine, and your stomach drops.

he lifts his head, mumbling your name. his eyes are lidded, cheeks warm and imprinted by the wrinkles from your shirt. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you try to urge his head back down, rubbing his scalp in the way you know he loves. “i’m okay. go back to sleep, ‘samu.”

you tilt your head to the side, looking down at him. he folds his arms against your chest, looking up at you from beneath his lashes.

“you’re not a good liar,” he smiles. it’s small and sleepy, and you wish you had enough energy to kiss it off his face.

“i can’t sleep,” you sigh. “but you should. it’s still early, i think.”

you try to peek at the time on your phone as he leans up on his elbows, turning your face towards his. he kisses your forehead, trailing down until his lips press against the space between your eyebrows, then down to the bridge of your nose.

“how am i supposed to kiss you awake if you don’t fall asleep first?” he whispers, tracing his thumb beneath your eye. you kiss the side of his wrist, leaning into his hand.

he pulls himself up until your positions are swapped, with his head on the pillow, and your head on his chest. he rests his cheek against your hair as he drags his fingertips down the back of your neck, rubbing little circles between your shoulder blades.

he hums softly, a song you can’t quite place. even barely murmuring, you can hear the sweetness in his voice, like he simply couldn’t hold in his adoration for you.

the calm beat of his heart and the soft vibrations from his chest soothe your mind. all your thoughts slip away, only a faraway whisper of sweet dreams, my love and the soft press of lips against your forehead before you fall asleep.

CHUUYA ー you can hear chuuya’s quiet movements as he comes home from a late night mission, a mumbled curse slipping from his mouth when he’s a little too loud taking off his shoes. he cracks the bedroom door open, eyebrows raising when he sees you.

“you’re still awake?” he opens the door further. “you okay, baby?”

you nod into your comforter, watching blearily as he pulls his gloves off by each finger before he brushes your bangs away from your face.

“i’ll be right back,” he whispers, bending down to kiss your forehead. “don’t wait for me if you can help it, alright?”

you nod again, eyes falling shut as he kisses your forehead one more time. you hear the gentle thud of his dresser drawer closing, the sound of leather hitting the bathroom floor. you don’t know how much time has passed when you open your eyes again, looking up at him in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

“c’mon,” he squeezes your hand, sheets falling to your waist as he pulls you to sit up. “let’s go for a drive.”

the cool leather of chuuya’s car seat isn’t as comfortable as your bed, but you can already feel the heaviness in your chest start to dissipate as he drives.

you rest your head on the tinted window, looking out at the passing buildings. his hand rests against your thigh, and you lift it off, just enough for you to slide your fingers in between his own.

there aren’t many people out on the road this late, but he’s still careful, only sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eye. with the security and warmth that comes from chuuya’s presence next to you, and the gentle movement of the car, it doesn’t take long for your eyes to fall shut.

when he looks over and sees your face, completely relaxed, he exhales, sagging in relief against his headrest. he can’t get enough of you, bundled up in his passenger seat, holding his hand firmly, even in your sleep.

he’ll drive around a little longer, he decides, just to watch the way the lights wash over your pretty face, highlighting the curve of your cheekbones, the pretty pink of your lips.

at least it’d be no problem for him to carry you back to bed.

RANPO ー every night, ranpo curls on top of you with the lingering scent of freshly baked pastries clinging to his skin, and his messy hair tickling your jaw from how he nuzzles his face against your neck.

his body is always a comforting weight, but sleep evades you tonight. you stare up at the ceiling, gently drawing little shapes through his shirt with your finger.

“i know you’re awake.”

you jump when he whispers in your ear, heart rate spiking painfully in your chest. he lifts his head up; his eyes are open, bright green and staring at you. the tips of your noses brush from how close he is.

“your thoughts woke me up,” he answers before you can ask, poking your forehead. “they’re too loud.”

“sorry,” you sigh, wincing when he flicks your forehead.

“why are you apologizing?” he whispers, tilting his chin up to kiss the spot he flicked. “go to sleep.”

“i can’t,” you whine, childishness rivaling his own.

“that’s ‘cause you’re not trying hard enough,” he mumbles, pout evident in his voice. “your eyes aren’t even closed.”

he traces his finger down the bridge of your nose, then up again. he grazes your hairline as he travels across your forehead next, and your eyes grow heavy with each movement, slowly falling shut.

“ranpoー”

“shhh,” he smooths his thumb along your eyebrow, making his way back down your nose. “go to sleep.”

he keeps tracing your features, even after your eyes are all the way closed and your face is completely relaxed beneath his hand. he brushes his fingers across your cupid’s bow, tracing down to the plush of your bottom lip.

“there,” he whispers, leaving butterfly kisses along your jaw as he nuzzles back into you. “that’s better.”

FYODOR ー you’ve been teetering on the edge of sleep ever since you first laid down, hours ago. you’re sure it’s the early hours of the morning by now, and you sigh, stretching your arm to the other side of the bed. it’s cold, sheets still untouched.

it was rare fedya came to bed at night, no matter how much you wished he would. curling into his side always helped you rest easier. his presence is a calming one, maybe only to you.

you bundle up your blanket, holding it in place around your shoulders as you get out of bed. the ends trail along the hallway floor like a cloak as you tiptoe to his office. the steady sound of him typing comes to a stop as soon as you open the door, and he turns around in his chair, just enough to look at you.

“what are you doing up at this hour?” his eyebrows furrow, like the hypocrite he is.

“i don’t know,” you mumble around a yawn. “i just missed you.”

he swivels completely to face you, opening his arms. he makes no complaints about accommodating you as you sit on his lap, curling yourself around him, cheek falling to rest against his shoulder. you shift to look at his screens, monitor light seeming so much brighter to your tired eyes in the darkness of his office.

“don’t look at those,” he tilts your head further into his shoulder. “you’ll only keep yourself awake longer.”

you press your face into his neck, seeking out the soothing chill of his skin. you arch further into him when his fingertips sneak beneath your shirt, rubbing along the knobs of your spine. his typing is rhythmic, fingers gently pressing into your skin each time he pauses to think as you feel the rise and fall of his chest against your body.

he feels your breaths, deep and even against his shoulder, and spares a glance at you: asleep. he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, lips curling up as you try to snuggle impossibly closer to him.

“rest well, my dear,” he pulls the edge of the blanket tighter around you. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

BSD MASTERLIST

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#bsd x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #ranpo x reader #fyodor x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd fluff #dazai osamu x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #edogawa ranpo x reader #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #ranpo fluff #fyodor fluff #bsd x you

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emmyrosee · 3 months

Text

“Do I have a cute butt?”

“Excuse me?” Osamu asks at your question, popping an eye open as he chuckles. You giggle at your matched silliness, gently patting his chest.

“You know.... like, is my butt cute?” You ask again, traveling your eyes to look. Your leg is hooked over his waist, his large hand running along your thigh sweetly.

Osamu sighs sleepily, “is this one of those scenarios where if I answer, you’ll hit me?”

You giggle at him, “depends on your answer.”

“Then I think you have, single handedly, the cutest butt in the world, sweet love.” His large hand travels down and gives your ass a gentle pat, almost like you were a baby.

Well, you are his baby, as he always assures.

Your heart flutters wildly at his words, they always have an effect on you, and you can’t help but nuzzle into his chest further to hide your face.

“Awww,” he teases. “Did I make my angel girl all shy?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, shoving him lightly. He chuckles lowly before shoving his hand under your hip and pushing you up, guiding you to straddle his waist. He gently caresses your sides and thighs, dopey, loving smile on his pink lips.

“I think every part of you is the cutest, my love,” Osamu whispers, making you roll your eyes.

“Oh yeah?” You challenge. “Like what?” He raises his own brows, “everything.” He gently takes your hand in his, “I love these small, sexy hands of yours.” He plants a kiss to each of your fingers before closing them, placing a final kiss to your knuckles. You bite your lip, brushing the fallen locks of hair out of his eyes.

“They’re not small,” you protest. “Yours are just massive.”

“Either way,” he continues. “I love these hips, and these legs that everyone stares at when you wear shorts,” he gently digs his fingers in your thighs slightly, leaving lightened prints before transforming back to your original skin tone.

You avert his gaze, “they stare because my hips come up to your thighs. Tall freak.”

“They stare because you’re hot,” he says, putting extra emphasis on the ‘T’ and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “They stare because somehow, your stunning ass got stuck with me."

“I love being stuck with you!"

“I love it too,” he assures, smiling as you laugh. “That’s another thing,” he says. “That sweet laugh of yours.”

“Oh, you mean the dolphin mating call?” You scoff, crossing your arms.

Osamu shakes his head, “no, you brat. I’m talking about your laugh. Your sweet giggles. Your scoffs. The way it goes silent when you laugh really hard. It the fucking best.”

“No it’s not,” you groan. “You’re the only person on planet earth who could find a walrus being assaulted with a crowbar cute.”

“There’s nothing wrong with finding your little giggles endearing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“But you know what I love most about you?” He asks, cupping your ass and hips in his massive hands.

You quirk your brow, “what’s that, oh Prince Charming of mine.”

“My absolute biggest weakness about you, dollface, is...” he squeezed harder. “Messing with you.”

You can barely process what he said before he bucks his hips up against you, bouncing you up and down. You scream out in laughter, planting your hands to his chest. His own laughter mixes with yours, his thighs continuing to bounce you like you’re a rider on a horse.

“Okay, okay!” You manage between giggles. “I get it!”

“Don’t,” bounce “think,” bounce “you,” bounce “do.” He grins as he stops bouncing, sitting up to wrap his arms around you, pulling you flush to his chest as you both flop back down.

“You’re so bad,” you giggle, running your hands over his chest. Osamu chuckles, planting a kiss to your head.

“What can I say,” he sighs dreamily. “I'm a man of poetic genius.”

"If that's what you want to call it."

Immediately, hands dart under your arms to tickle you viciously, smirking as you shriek and clamp your hands to your sides and laughter pours out of your lips.

It truly was his favorite sound.

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kitashousewife · 19 days

Text

“my back hurts,” osamu bends back, wincing with his eyes closed. it’s a saturday, post dinner rush, and he’s taking a break outside.

“maybe if you wore better shoes, you wouldn’t be bothered so much.”

your voice sounds distant through the phone speakers. his black high-tops kicks a pebble out of the way. very broken in, stained, and even a little ripped. he takes his hat off to rub his head before responding.

“but they match and look nice,”

“you can find nice, matching shoes with some support.”

osamu snorts. “those always look ugly,”

you laugh on the other line, and he grins. you groan, and hold the phone up closer to your lips.

“you’re a dork. we can look online later tonight, okay?”

“fine,” he sighs. he can hear the employees in the shop speaking louder, and he takes that as his queue to go back inside. “ya on yer way? yer favorite is the special tonight,”

he can feel you smile. “it’s the special every night. and yes, i’m only a couple blocks away.”

he pushes the back door open, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he puts his apron on again. he finishes the call and heads straight to the seating area to set your table up with the plastic reserved sign. like he does every saturday night.

he might even join you this time. just to rest his back, like he does every saturday.

#osamu loves a routine #osamu x reader #osamu x reader fluff #osamu drabble #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff

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a-kaash-me-outside · 11 months

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a bit dirty - ch5

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch5 | next (coming soon) [masterlist]

// can't be a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6538 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, more bathroom fucking, somewhat publicish? but when isn't it i guess, meeting friends p2 ~ ah!, names names names pet names a million pet names, some nice fruition, a lot of feelings, soft and fluffy fr, afab she/her pronouns

tori talks: ch6 will not be out next week as (to be honest) it isn't finished yet. i thought i'd have finished it by now, but my life is kinda crazy right now!! and i am very!!! ah! so! it will be coming, i promise. just not next week. thank you for being patient and sweet as always. ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

osamu has ‘trusted’ atsumu with working the night shift and closing the restaurant, and that’s how you know how important this night is to him. plus, atsumu kinda owes you two.

but it’s not just that he’s letting atsumu work the night shift and close the restaurant (or, rather, shove receipts into a paper bag until osamu’s back to deal with it), he made plans and arranged the schedule so that the two of you weren’t working the morning shift the following day either, and he did it all within a week.

usually osamu liked to plan ahead, organize his weeks months in advance, iron out details and double/triple check, especially when it came to his restaurant, but the second that he dropped you home that night, he was moving around shifts and trading favors for promises. he didn’t want to wait weeks and weeks and months and months to take you out on a proper date. in fact, even waiting until the end of the week was too long, but he’d survive.

particularly, he’d survive when most of his shifts leading up to your date were ones that he shared with you. some days with just you, some nights with some extra coworkers, and the night before your date spent all alone. it was slow anyways, barely enough dine-in customers all night to count on both hands.

as time ticked on, as it got later and later into the night, all osamu had were to-go orders and solo lingering customers at the bar. he was ready to close up shop early, to turn the sign to close and call it an early night in preparation of his date tomorrow, but the door chimes and along with it a loud chatter as a group of guys enter from outside. “hey guys, was just about to close up, but i’d be happy to do a to-go for ya,” osamu calls out as he delivers the last bill to the single woman in the middle of the bar.

“shit,” tsukishima says under his breath, reaching over to smack kuroo in the back of his head, “shoulda fuckin’ left an hour ago, when i said.”

“miya osamu closing early?” you tease, and osamu instantly swivels his head to find where the voice is coming from, “what’s the rush? gotta hot date?” you ask, light as air as you enter the restaurant for the first time as just a customer.

when osamu sees you, his chill attitude is put on pause, not gone, but not at the forefront, as you walk over to greet him, to pull menus from behind the bar and set them on the corner booth, but you don’t get that far. you’re not on the clock. you’re just here with your friends as the cute girl he’s going on a date with tomorrow, so he reaches his arms out, wraps them around you and pulls you into a tight, but quick hug. it really isn’t long enough.

“what’re ya doin’ here?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, smile huge.

you nod towards the direction of the four guys bickering in the doorway. “friends were hungry, recommended the best place i knew,” you say, lightly nudging your elbow against his side, “plus i knew you were all alone tonight, figured you’d want company as you closed.”

he smiles even bigger at this, goes to nod in affirmation, but you rush on, “but if you’re really closing up early and stuff, it’s not a big deal, we can-”

“go sit down,” he says, chin pointing to the exact booth you were going to put menus on, “whadya want to drink?”

“surprise me,” you say, sly smile kissed away as he leans down and places a small peck against it and you’re ready to call off the entire date tomorrow, because you’re not sure that you need it. this casual kiss, the tight greeting hug, you could just take him back to your place tonight and spend the entire day tomorrow telling him all the reasons why you’ve fallen for him this past year.

but osamu, ever the romantic, classic, but with an exciting twist, probably wouldn’t let that happen, needs to take you out on a real date, has probably put a lot of thought into where he’s taking you and what he’s going to wear and what you’re going to wear and you don’t want to deprive him of that.

you kiss him once more because you can, and then you walk, menus in hand, over to the large booth in the corner and motion with your hand for your friends to join you. “is osamu really okay with us staying?” akaashi asks, sliding into the booth next to bokuto. you sit on the other side of bokuto, able to get up and grab things from behind the bar or the kitchen if you need to.

“definitely,” you say, smiling as you start spewing recommendations, food that isn’t really on the menu and items that are better than others because they’re osamu’s favorites and osamu makes his favorite foods with a bit more love than the rest. when osamu makes his way over to your table, everyone knows exactly what they want, rattles off a long order of hidden dishes and kitchen favorites and osamu smiles at you every single time.

“do you need help?” you ask, body already moving to join him in the kitchen.

he clicks his tongue, hand on your shoulder to keep you seated, “i’m okay, i promise.”

“i know you’re okay, but if you need something, i can-,” you start, but are cut off by osamu’s sweetly stern statement.

“you’re not working, angel, quit,” he says, waving you off as he walks backwards towards the kitchen and you know you’re not going to hear the end of it when he walks through that swinging door. “just be a bit,” he calls as he disappears into the back room.

you throw a look to your group of friends, narrowing your eyes as their smiles grow. kuroo’s the first one to talk. “well, if i knew that’s all i had to do to make you quiet, i’d’ve started calling you angel a long time ago,” he jeers.

“seriously, did you see how fast she just gave it up?” tsukishima asks, because, of course, the only time that kuroo and tsukishima get along is when they’re poking fun at you.

“oh hush,” akaashi says, defending you as he does, “maybe if you guys were as hot as osamu, somebody might listen to you.”

“kaashi’s got a point,” bokuto agrees, nodding along happily, because bokuto will always agree with akaashi.

you put your hand on bokuto’s arm, “he absolutely does, bo.” and the rest of the table is quiet, eerily quiet, and so are you, terrified that someone is going to say something else or embarrass you in some way, but the thing that breaks the silence is kuroo.

“he really is hot though,” he says, nodding, and everyone is in agreement there.

/\ /\ /\

“seriously, everything was so good,” akaashi praises for the sixth time tonight, head leaning on bokuto’s shoulder because he keeps telling everyone not to let him eat another bite and then he keeps fighting everyone and eating another bite.

“thanks, i appreciate it,” osamu says for the millionth time tonight, because it’s not just akaashi who is fawning over the food, it’s everyone at the table.

you’re sitting next to osamu who’s pulled up a chair on the edge of the table and is finishing up his own dinner with you and your friends. his hand is on your knee, just resting while the two of you eat the last bites of food on your plate, just to let you know that he’s there.

“so where are you bringing yn tomorrow?” bokuto asks, finally calling attention to the two of you dating for the first time tonight.

“oh,” osamu laughs, “kinda a surprise,” he admits, “but i guess i can show ya.” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, types something into it, glares at you when he shows your friends, makes sure that you’re not sneaking a peek. they all look confused at first, but then he types something else out on his phone and shows them again and they all understand now.

“this is totally not fair,” you say, shaking your head, “spilling the surprise, but i don’t get to know.”

“just be patient, yn, god,” tsukishima teases, residual smile from reading whatever it was on osamu’s phone. “you’ll see tomorrow.”

“you will see tomorrow, doll,” he says, last bite from his bowl gone after he finishes his sentence. “speaking of,” he stands up, “you guys are welcome to stay as long as you want, but i do have to start cleanin’ up and closin’ down.” the open sign was turned to closed about an hour ago, but the six of you were chatting and eating and osamu happily welcomed the company in the final hours of the day.

“ah, yeah, we gotta get goin’, actually,” kuroo says, reaching into his pocket to grab his wallet as he nods towards you, “yn’s got a big date tomorrow, gotta get her home early.”

“it’s funny when i make the joke,” you say, narrowing your eyes, “not you.”

“i thought it was funny,” bokuto admits.

“i’ll take the bill whenever you’ve got a second,” kuroo calls out, credit card in the air, but osamu waves his hand.

“don’t worry about it,” osamu calls out from the kitchen, walking back into the dining area as he wipes his hands on his apron.

“no way,” kuroo says, shaking his head.

“serious,” osamu replies, “on me.”

“that’s really nice of you, but we ate so much food,” akaashi reasons, gesturing to the table of plenty of empty dishes.

“just happy to meet yn’s friends,” osamu says as your friends meet him by the exit, “nice to share a meal with ya guys, thanks for the company.”

kuroo sticks his hand out of a handshake and osamu takes it despite how weirdly formal it feels for him. tsukishima offers a wave and a sincere thank you. akaashi pulls him into a half-hug and bokuto nearly tackles him. they all pour gratitude and appreciation, and you’re sure they feel special, but it’s nothing compared to how you’re feeling right now.

you feel like you could walk across the clouds, light as a feather, happy as a clam. you wrap your arms around osamu’s neck, pull him down into a soft, sweet kiss, and then pull him into a tight hug. he squeezes his arms around your waist, picks you up off the ground as he tightens his grip around you. “i’ll see ya tomorrow, sweetheart,” he says and then presses a kiss into the side of your cheek.

“can’t wait to see this mystery place,” you say, one last small peck on the lips for good measure before pushing the door open and joining your friends outside. you wave at him through the glass, and he waves right back.

“you’ve gotta cool boyfriend, yn,” tsukishima says once the doors close completely and the four of you start walking back to his car.

“not my boyfriend,” you say, smacking his arm, but you feel giddy, like you’re twirling your hair around your finger and your eyes are made of hearts as your finish, “yet.”

/\ /\ /\

there are quite a few things that you’re feeling while you lean against the arm of your couch, phone in hand, waiting for a text from osamu to tell you that he’s outside of your apartment, and it hits you very suddenly that amidst all of them, amidst the floating and the excitement and the curiosity, you can’t seem to find nervousness anywhere.

receiving osamu’s be there in 10 text, there are no jolts of anxiety or simmering bouts of apprehension that usually accompany a first date. you’re not worried about saying the wrong things or figuring out halfway through dinner that you’re incompatible or fearing that your date has the wrong idea of your level of interest.

if labels didn’t exist at all, the way that you and osamu interact would put you way past friends and casual hookups. if the circumstances of meeting for the second time weren’t as they were, tonight would feel less like a first date and more like a date night.

even the unexpected knock on the door doesn’t scare you. in fact, you’re not sure why you weren’t just expecting it, as if osamu would make you walk from your door to the car all on your own. you’ve been ready for the better half of an hour, shoes on and waiting by the door, not because osamu is late, he’s perfectly and attentively on time, but because you’ve been ecstatic about this all day. you open the door, already grinning before you can even see him, just at the presence of him on the other side.

when you see him, your beaming grin turns more into a smitten smirk, quieter and more fluttery, and despite the fact that you saw him less than 24 hours ago, you have to restrain yourself from tackling him. he looks good, great, perfect actually, and seeing him look so perfect doesn’t make you feel any less dressed up, just more excited to be here with him and to see where he’s taking you.

his eyes meet yours and they linger, helplessly and unapologetically, before skimming down your body, lips in a tight smile as he lets go a, “you look really great.” he leans in, palm resting against your jaw as he presses a sickeningly sweet kiss into your smile. you’re not exactly sure how you’re still upright, knees slightly weak as he snakes his arm around your waist, holding you tightly. “ready to go?”

you nod, follow him down the sidewalk to his closely parked car, and he helps you into the passenger seat, his hand moving with your waist to feel you against his palm for as long as he can.

the only turmoil you’re feeling is the fact that you have to behave all night when osamu looks like that and you’re both off the clock and out in a romantic environment and he keeps touching you like that and when the expectations of tonight are the same in both of your heads.

/\ /\ /\

osamu has a way of making even abandoned oceanside buildings feel romantic.

it wasn’t exactly the type of place that you were expecting osamu to take you on your first date, but for some reason, you trust him. actually, it isn’t anywhere near the images that you had in your head, but when he parks, turns off the car, a bit of underlying nerves in his demeanor, and turns to you with a look that says i know this is weird, and i don’t really know how to explain it without showing you so just trust me, you throw him one right back that says, of course i trust you.

though, it’s not adding up in your head either, where you are and how he looks. you stay in your seat until he opens your door because you know osamu enough to wait the extra few seconds. he doesn’t rush to grab something else from the backseat or trunk, doesn’t lead you down the river past the abandoned building to sparkling lights and a set up spot.

when you step out of the car, you walk with osamu, arm wrapped around his, towards the gravel path and the wooden fence separating the pathway from the cold ocean and rocky shore below. he leans against the rotting wood, hand sliding down your arm to grab yours. you can feel the breath that he takes in his grasp, see it in the rise of his chest from the corner of your eye.

and then he explains everything perfectly in a single sentence. “this is the restaurant that made me want to open my own.” he could’ve stopped there, sat in silence for the rest of the night, not have taken you anywhere else or done anything else, and you’re positive that your heart would have been full enough for ages. you hum, just a short breath of acknowledgement as you squeeze his hand, side step closer into him.

he continues on, “i used to go here after school with sumu, used to do homework in a booth in the corner, eat lunch and dinner when our parents weren’t around or were working late. it was my first job in the kitchen, brought my first girlfriend here, figured out my life inside those walls.”

“i didn’t even realize that i wanted to open up a restaurant until my senior year of high school, really. thought i’d be doin’ the same thing as sumu for the rest of my life until one day i came here on my own because sumu and i had a really bad fight and the owner made me this onigiri, something that wasn’t on the menu, and she didn’t charge me for it because i was uncharacteristically quiet.”

osamu shifts slightly, clears his throat at the memory. “and she said somethin’ like a good meal can heal the heart a little faster, and i remember that the onigiri was so good that despite the fact that my brother was,” osamu sighs and shakes his head, a tiny smile on his face given how relevant his next words are, “a fucking asshole, i still wanted to save half of it to show him how good it was.”

there are still remnants of a restaurant that you can spot now that you’re looking for them: peeks of booths behind paper-covered windows and a patio with a broken gate and places where tables used to be, faded letters on a sign that was situated long enough to cause the paint around it to dull. you can see him here when you close your eyes, through these different phases in his life, for different reasons, with different people.

“they closed down a few years ago, went out of business while mine was starting up,” he explains and you rest your head on his shoulder, “reminds me of how lucky i am that mine is still goin’, still kickin’. makes me think of the future too, of relocating or opening a new location.”

“it’s scary to think about losing it, terrifies me every day,” he says, shifting again, standing up off of the wood, his attention still on the abandoned restaurant, “but i think there’s something cool about being so scared to lose something… like when something in your life is so special that have no choice but to worry about what it would be like if it weren’t there.”

osamu turns to you, looks down into your eyes, and he doesn’t have to say it, you understand completely, but he just has to make sure, “kinda like how i feel about you.”

you already knew exactly what he meant before he said it, you were absolutely certain of the looming analogy he was making, but when it comes out of his mouth, your entire body feels warm.

you don’t know what to say, how to match the sentiment of what osamu’s just said to you, which words to choose to follow the foundations of dreams and what was essentially just a confession. really, the only words that feel right feel like they’re coming too soon.

it’s a weird dynamic that you have here, the notion that this is your first date, but in this moment, you feel like you’ve known osamu for years. and more than that, the two of you have had feelings for each other, feelings that have bubbled and grown and manifested despite the precarious situation between you two, for almost a year now.

you haven’t been dating him in the months you’ve worked at onigiri miya, but you’ve been learning about him and the people closest to him, you’ve seen him almost every single day, you spend hours with him after close just eating dinner with him and you come in on your days off to bring him a coffee from down the street. you’ve both been too busy navigating unsaid feelings and difficult situations to care about labels and professions, so maybe a first date isn’t too soon.

“we’re not eating here obviously, i just wanted to show ya,” he says, sheepishly rubbing his palm against the back of his neck when you don’t respond for a few seconds too long.

your eyes dart from his soft gray eyes to his lips and back again, not sure where they should land to tell him something like this. your breath is caught in your throat, not because you’re worried, but because you’re so excited. “i love you, samu.”

there’s a soft stun in his eyes that might’ve caused some form of nerves to stir in your stomach if you weren’t so sure about this, if you didn’t trust him so much. his eyes widen just a bit and you swear you can feel his heart skip a beat, or maybe that was yours. the pink tint that takes over the tops of his cheeks is warm when you caress your palm against it. you don’t need to hear it back. you heard it whispered between every single word of his story and screamed in the way that he looked at you just a few moments ago.

when his mind catches up to him, he leans down quickly, finger under your chin to tilt your lips into his. it’s soft and sweet and disgustingly romantic, but not as romantic as the way he pulls you closer as he pulls away from the kiss. “i love you, angel.”

you don’t need to hear it back, but fuck, is it really nice.

/\ /\ /\

now, this? this is exactly what you had in mind when you envisioned the place that osamu would take you for your first date, a restaurant with minimal overhead lighting and flickering candles on each table and no prices on the menu and more choices for wine than there were food.

when you walk to the table, osamu places a strong hand on your lower back, fingers curling around the fabric of your tight clothes, gripping and kneading into the fat of your hip as he makes polite conversation with the person who guides you to the private room with a chilling bottle of wine on small round table.

and you’d think that sitting across from osamu, unable to wrap his arm around your waist or throw his arm over your shoulder, would be easier. there is an entire table of distance between the two of you, but that doesn’t stop him. he moves his chair just slightly to the side of the round table, not sitting next to you, just closer, and now he can rest his arm on your knee and the inside of your thigh the entire night.

he doesn’t bring any attention to it either, doesn’t send you mischievous smiles or knowingly glances, he just talks to you as if he’s not driving you absolutely fucking insane right now, pushing his fingers under the hem of your skirt, dragging his nails against your thin tights. he asks you about your day and about what you and your friends did after you left the restaurant last night and about how you met your friends and nothing that’s coming out of his mouth is even remotely about how wet he’s making you right now with his feather soft touches and assuredly harsh grips.

the place is amazing, gorgeous, and the dinner is delicious, but the company is much better than the two combined and you’re having a really difficult time being patient, because as much as you don’t want this moment to end or this dinner to be over, you really fucking want this dinner to be over.

you get your thank you and gratitudes out of the way before the bill is even on the table and osamu doesn’t tease you for your assumptions in his refusal to split the check. you wait until he’s placed the cash with the check and closed the front of the little black book to mutter, “samu, i don’t know if i can wait until we get home.”

he knows exactly what you’re talking about the second that it leaves your mouth. he doesn’t play dumb or make you explain yourself, but he does ask, with narrowed eyes and a slightly tilted head, “is this a test?”

“no,” you shake your head, similarly narrowed eyes now, “why would it be a test?”

“you just complained about the fact that we’ve only ever fucked in bathrooms last week,” he explains, and you’re wondering if the drag of his fingers pulling on the thin fabric of your tights is habitual or not because it doesn’t stop even as you’re having this conversation.

“okay, fair, yes, i did do that, but,” you say, head tilting back and forth as you try to think of some form of difference between then and now, “yea i don’t know if i have an excuse. you’ve been teasing me all night and i’ve spent all week thinking about you and i really want you,” you say, low.

“you can’t wait until we drive back to mine?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

realistically, you probably could wait the drive home and maybe if you weren’t so comfortable with fucking in bathrooms, you would’ve easily done it, but if you didn’t have to wait to feel him against your skin and deep inside of you, why would you? you shake your head now, teeth scraping against your bottom lip, eyes soft and impatient.

he lets out a sigh, shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but these actions aren’t quite matching the loving touch he gives you or the hungry smile he’s wearing as he helps you up. “no use in beating around the bush then, huh?” he asks, nodding towards the restrooms in the back of the restaurant.

as you’re walking to the bathroom, your brain catches up with you, and you almost laugh at how easy the explanation for why you don’t mind doing this again is, “i think it’s because i know you’re going to take me back to your place for a glass of wine tonight, even after you’ve fucked me, and i’m going to spend the night and then in the morning, we’ll make true to all of the promises that we’ve made about never fucking in a bathroom again.”

osamu presses a kiss into the side of your head as he walks with his arm draped around your shoulders. “well, i don’t know about never,” he jokes, or maybe not jokes.

you don’t have time to protest or to agree because when you make it to the bathroom, you realize a very distinct lack of private bathrooms, of single rooms with lockable doors. you also don’t have time to hesitate or worry about logistics because osamu is tugging you into the women's restroom quickly and with less fear than he maybe should.

you can barely appreciate how nice it is in here either, only realize how clean and spacious the stalls are because osamu closes the two of you into the nearest one and you can’t stop giggling at how fast he made all of the decisions to end up here.

“what was that?” you ask, eyebrows knit together as you swivel your head in disbelief, “didn’t even have enough time to take in my surroundings or make a single choice.”

osamu tilts his head slightly, pushes you gently up against the non-stall wall, and your jeers and taunts melt away. “didn’t wanna make you wait any longer, bunny, been teasin’ you all night.”

a whimper leaves your lips in place of meaningful words, but that’s perfect for osamu. he smiles down at you, presses his palm into your hip to keep you pinned against the wall as he kisses down your neck and chest, tugging on the thin straps of your top until they fall down your shoulder.

his lips are everywhere but yours, drastically different than how he usually is, and you understand why very quickly. he pulls your top down, bunches it up around your waist as he quickly captures your nipple into his mouth. you move to let your head fall backwards at the feeling, but there’s nowhere for you to go, no room for your body to squirm in response to his wet tongue circling around your hard bud.

your other tit is in his hand, kneaded and massaged as his thumb flicks across your nipple, pointer finger migrating to roll it between his two fingers. “fuck,” he says, so quietly, between licks and soft suckles, “can’t believe it’s taken me this long to see your pretty fuckin’ tits, babygirl.”

there are knots and butterflies taking up the space in your stomach and the words can’t come out fast enough, “want you to fuck them, samu.” you’re much louder than he is, so loud that he throws you a warning look, turning his head from side to side to remind you of where the two of you are. the thought of not hearing osamu as much as you normally get to isn’t sitting right with you, but he’s gently coaxing you to your knees and fumbling with his belt and y’know what, you’ll get over it.

before his hardening cock slips between your soft tits, you capture his head into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his thick head, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can. when you pull off, you let the spit drool off of your tongue and onto the length, spitting any remaining between your tits, and then you let him do the rest.

he holds your tits in both of his hands, has to stop himself from getting distracted by the weight of them or the softness of your skin as he thrusts forward between the fat. he tilts his head back, chin to the ceiling as he squeezes your tits around his cock, slit drooling precome onto your chest as he fucks through it.

every new part of your body that he gets to touch and hold and feel and fuck is just as perfect as the last, but so completely different. he watches your tits bounce as his balls hit your stomach, focuses on the ripples in your skin and the jiggle of the fat, and your pretty eyes looking up at him through your lashes. he compares the sensation to fucking your thighs and your mouth and perfect cunt, and fuck, he can’t stop the amount of precome leaking from the thought.

he’s silent, though, save for a few strong exhales and harsh swallows, and the longer that he’s fucking your tits, the tighter his grip is, the more powerful his thrusts are until he’s convinced that he’s going to come all over your face. you can feel his cock pulsing between your tits, his face focused on the sight, and you’ve fucked him enough times to know that he’s getting close.

you don’t say a word either, only place your hand on his hip until he slows his movements, and stand up and turn around. he doesn’t need you to explain anything to him, the way that you arch your back, both arms crossed over one another and pressed up against the wall above you is plenty tell enough. he reaches under your skirt, pulls your tights down just enough to spread your legs, and then pushes inside of you.

how full osamu makes you feel will never get old. it will never not be the most incredible feeling in the world, being filled to the brim, inch by agonizing inch until you can feel his balls brush up against the inside of your thighs. the first few thrusts inside of you are harsh, too harsh, the clapping echoes off of the walls, bounces right back to you, it’s so loud.

he’s slower after that, long, steady strokes inside of you that allow you to feel every inch, every throb. the small circles that he’s rubbing into your messy clit are only making your pussy clench around him tighter. you can’t tell him anything, can’t communicate how close you are or how good he’s making you feel, so you’re very grateful for how well he knows you, how easy it is for him to feel the signs.

he picks up the pace just long enough to make you come, sacrifices a bit of noise to make you drip all down his cock, to tighten around his throbbing cock, quivering gummy walls coaxing him just as close as you are.

you hear the door to the bathroom push open, voices accompanying it, and osamu stills, not moving a single muscle at the first notice, and then quickly moving with you onto the toilet to fuck you through the rest of your orgasm. he’s full sheathed inside of you, holding your legs up by the backs of your thighs as he lifts off of the toilet seat, thrusting into you, holding you in place above him as he pulls out.

you wish you could think more about how insane this is, but all you can think about is how good he’s making you feel, how safe and supported you feel in this wild position. you lean back into his chest, back of your head on his shoulder, and the second that you’re close enough, he kisses the side of your face, saying so soft and so slow that you’re certain no one else in the world hears it, “love you, pretty girl.”

as soon as you’re alone again, you scramble to your feet, turning around and facing him. he pulls you into him, tugs the sides of your tights back up and pulls you into his lap, legs as wrapped around him as they possibly can be. he kisses you, gently, and the tone of this entire hookup has shifted dramatically since he said those words to you again for the second time tonight.

he doesn’t ask or apologize as he grabs your tights between your legs and tears a hole in them big enough to slip inside of you again. he only laughs when he notices how shocked you look, can’t help it, and then kisses the corner of your mouth as the shock fades, replaced with the feeling of being incredibly full and extremely close.

it doesn’t take long at all for the eye contact and the rhythmic thrusts to get osamu just as close as he was before, head falling against your shoulder, arms wrapped around your lower back as he lifts off of the toilet to fuck his cock into you deeper, but he doesn’t have enough room to fuck you faster, needs more space to give you nice, long strokes. he leans your forward, both of your hands splaying out to brace yourself on either sides of the wall.

he fucks into you faster, harder, one hand under your lower back, the other on your stomach to pull you back onto his cock, and you’re so perfectly warm and tight around him, look so pretty under him like this. you can feel his cock begin to pulse, streams of come ready to spray inside of your snug walls, but he pulls out at the last second, shoots his load between your legs instead, ropes of thick come landing on the insides of your thighs, the fabric of your panties and the outsides of your tights.

the two of you stay like this for a second in this exact position as osamu catches his breath and lets you recover as well. when he finally moves, he sits back down on the toilet with you on his lap and he presses a soft kiss into the bottom of your jaw. he doesn’t need to look to reach for the toilet paper. you close your eyes at the feeling of the tissue on your skin as he cleans you up as best as he can for how unplanned his release was.

“i can’t believe you tore my tights,” is the first thing that you say when you’ve recovered enough to talk.

he laughs, kissing the bottom of your jaw again and squeezing his arms around you tighter. “i’ll buy you new ones, baby, i promise.”

it’s quiet in the bathroom. you feel okay enough to keep talking, only slightly on edge about someone walking in on the conversation, but you can’t wait until you’re outside to ask him, “are you gonna fuck me again, can we just establish that? no more beating around the bush or wondering how the other feels because the situation is complicated?”

“can you- can we just-,” you’re struggling to finish the question because it feels dumb, futile given the fact that you’ve already told him that you love him. but you suppose that the question is trying to be so much more than that, you just can’t communicate it correctly.

“oh, sweetheart, i want to do so much more than fuck you,” he says, hand moving up to cup your face, “i want to love you in every way possible.”

your face is so hot, stomach flipping, and the only words you can say in response are a breathy, “i can’t believe you just said the most romantic thing i’ve ever heard in a bathroom stall.”

“in a fancy bathroom stall,” he corrects, still beaming, “but then, i should probably wait until we go back outside to ask if you’ll be my girlfriend?”

“yea, samu! probably!” you say, but you can’t hide your matching smile.

“and is this before or after i invite you back to my place tonight?” he asks, and you’re 99% sure he’s fucking with you now, asking you all of these questions like this just to get you riled up. not that you were questioning the validity of them, just the timing and the tone.

you feel like you’re combusting. how are you going to explain to your friends and family about how you and osamu got together? on your first date? after you told him you loved him? after you fucked him in the bathroom of a nice restaurant? but don’t worry that was also after he told you that he loved you back. oh, but he asked you to be his girlfriend before you went back to his place and after you had sex in the bathroom, yes, you get it now.

you lower your head into his shoulder, exhaling a big sigh as he picks your head up and presses a kiss into your forehead, cheek, jaw, and then your lips. you’re wearing a slight pout even after he pulls away and he laughs. “alright, alright,” he nods, “how about i ask you now if you’ll go back to my place and i can ask if you’ll be my girlfriend there?”

“deal,” you say.“best deal i’ve ever made,” he says back.

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