#miya osamu oneshot

[kitashousewife]

worth celebrating

an: clearly this is inspired by my life so enjoy my self indulgence

pairing: timeskip!osamu x fem!reader

warnings: food/eating mentions, alcohol mentions, melodramatic angst but v v v fluffy

wc: 2.1k

-

submitted! final.doc at 6:58 pm

you blink. once. three times. that's it.

the feeling hits you slowly, then all at once. after some long years, your degree is finally complete. no more assignments, no more late-night studying sessions, no more exams, readings, or papers. it's overwhelming, really. you message everyone close to you with the news, basking in the warm wishes you recieve.

an emptiness sinks in soon after.

eyes trained on the now dimming computer screen, you begin to feel a little upset. everything you've worked so hard for, over in an instant. you're proud, so proud of what you've accomplished. but what now? newfound anxiety of the unknown settles over you, sinking into your bones. the weight of it all keeps you in your seat.

thankfully, a text from a friend pulls you out of your slight despair.

you should celebrate!!

you sigh, warm palms rubbing over your very tired eyes. you should celebrate, but how? it's past 7 pm at this point, all of your friends are preparing or taking their finals, and you're sure that you couldn't arrange something with this short of notice.

but, with that newfound anxiety comes newfound freedom. every second of free time is now yours. you have all the time in the world right now, no pesky deadlines can get in the way of that.

leaning into this new phase of life, you get yourself up and around. changing your clothes, grabbing what you need, and heading out the door. the fresh air feels incredible and new. it's almost as if each step releases some of the fear of the unknown, shaking off of your body.

"welcome to onigiri miya! sit wherever you'd like!"

the very familiar greeting is just what you need right now. your newly discovered favorite place to eat, with food you can guarantee is good, and service that's even better. thankfully, everyone must still be working on finals and such because you are the only person in the place.

that means you get a bar seat, right in front of the biggest reason you frequent this small restaurant.

"it's good to see ya! did ya need a menu?" osamu flips a small towel over his shoulder before reaching a tentative hand towards his menus. he's as handsome as ever. strong arms wrapped snugly in his plain black shirt, his onigiri miya cap snuggly on his head, and very trim torso wrapped in a well-worn black apron.

"yeah, i'll take one. might try something new," you half-joke, sipping at the water osamu gave you seconds earlier. he places the menu in front of you with a couple taps before turning around once more.

"i'll be ready for ya whenever yer ready, darlin'," his very harmless pet-name affects you, even though he's called you that many times before. settling your racing heart rate, you nod and scan over the menu.

"has it been like this all day?" you try and start a conversation, hoping the lack of customers gives you the chance to talk to osamu. the past few times you've been here, you haven't gotten more than a few words from your new friend across the bar.

"this entire week, really. i think finals are scarin' everyone off. i don't mind, though. gives me time to mess around in the kitchen." he turns around again, giving you a relaxed smile. you think that you prefer him like this. all to yourself, that is.

he feels the same. he was actually hoping he would see you this week. he knows that you're in school and must live close since you always come in on foot. he knows that you prefer your edamame to be served while you look over the menu, and that you would rather have flat water over sparkling. it may seem like a lot, but not to osamu. he wants to know more.

"have ya decided?"

you hum, giving him your order in a way that almost seems memorized. that makes him chuckle. every time you're in, you ask for a menu, only to order the exact same thing.

things are quiet for a few minutes, only the clicking of bowls and the beep from the rice cookers fill the air. your edamame shells are discarded before you know it, and your full attention is on osamu as he does what he does best.

his forearms flex with each press of the rice in his hands, fingers bending to make the perfect shape. his eyebrows pinch together in focus, as if each onigiri he forms isn't perfect every time.

"seen any good movies lately?"

you snort. "not really, i haven't had as much as a few minutes of spare time the past few weeks, which sucks."

"sounds like it. a hardworkin' gal like yerself needs to have a break once in a while, ya know. it's good for yer health, after all." he winks at you before scooping fillings, and your mouth goes dry. desperately reaching for your water, you take a couple sips before regaining composure.

"what about you, osamu? seen anything good lately yourself?"

he plates the first couple onigiri before shaking his head. his forearm reaches up to fix his cap on his hand again, gloved fingers relaxed and avoiding contact.

"nah, i've been seein' my friends and family lately. it's been fun," he chuckles. grabbing another ball of rice. "if they come in while yer here sometime, i'll be sure to introduce ya."

you smile. it's warmth settles into osamu, and he just wants to be close to you. wants to pull you in, spoil you and earn smiles like that every day.

"i'd like that. you have a twin, right?"

he rolls his eyes. something inside of him feels almost competitive, slightly worried that if he points him out in a photo or even tells you a bit about him, you won't want to talk to him anymore, pushing him aside like many have before. he thinks for a moment about saying something bad, telling you some of atsumu's flaws to keep you away. but he won't.

"i do," he starts, nodding slowly before platting two more rice balls and reaching over the bar to place them in front of you. he sighs. "he's right there actually, in that photo. i'm on the left. his name is atsumu." it's a rather simple photo, but it sits right in the middle of the photo collage near the register. it was taken on a trip the two of them took a few months back, posing in front of a statue they both thought was rather funny.

he braces for impact, waits for the he's so handsome and isn't he on that pro team? but it doesn't come.

"what does he do? does he work here with you?" you cover your mouth as you ask, swallowing the first bite of your dinner with a delighted hum. "this is perfect, by the way."

he chuckles. "he's actually a volleyball player, he plays professionally. that photo above it is us after one of his games," you glance over and nod, recognizing his twin almost immediately from images from social media. "and, i'm glad ya like it. anything for my favorite customer."

that last part slipped out. one of those moments where your thoughts are verbalized. he acts natural though, hoping you don't notice the surprised look on his face.

you don't but you can't stop thinking about what he said. you really hope he means it, though.

"are you guys close?"

"yeah, unfortunately," he derides, a chuckle following soon after. "he's my best friend. and these guys," he points to a photo near the bottom of the wall of atsumu, osamu, kita, and aran, laughing and posing next to an MSBY promotional poster. "these are my best friends. i actually buy my rice from the one in the middle, fun fact."

"that's so cool! i hope i get to meet them someday."

his chest warms at that. he feels a little more confident and less worried that you'll pass him over for his dumb brother. he clears his throat before tossing his gloves in the trash.

"i forgot to ask ya earlier; what brings ya in tonight?"

you laugh. "im celebrating, actually."

"oh, yeah?" he looks at you over his shoulder while he washes his hands. when he turns around, he's drying them off on the towel that was once on his shoulder. "what's the occasion?"

you feel shy, all of a sudden. your chapsticks tap at a loose piece of rice before you answer.

"i actually completed my degree tonight. i won't graduate unti-"

"are ya serious?" he exclaims, a wide smile covering his face. "that's amazing! that's cause for celebration, for sure! oh my gosh, do ya feel great or what?"

you laugh, a little surprised. you've talked about your studies with osamu before, but never how close you were to being finished. you feel warm, almost giddy at the excitement he's sharing with you.

"yeah, i do! it's a little weird, i don't think it's set in yet to be honest, bu-where are you going?" you give him a confused look when he starts to walk away without a word.

"i'll be right back! just wait there," he calls behind the swinging doors, and you sit up to try and catch a peak through the windows of the door. you see him walk back and forth and hear the clanging of glass before he busts through the doors once more.

"okay, continue, i'm listenin'!" his back is turned to you, but it almost sounds like he's popped a bottle of some kind.

"u-um, i was saying that i'm sure the feeling will set in soon, but i'll give it a few days," you shake your head, the excitement you felt once hitting submit hours earlier fills your senses once more. "wait, is that champagne?"

osamu walks around the bar to where you're sitting and sets down two flutes in front of you before joining you at the bar.

"yeah! i keep a few bottles on hand just in case someone is in celebratin' something. engagements, weddings, finishing college," he gives you a smirk and you could melt. now with him up close you can really take in how stunning he is. dark grey eyes with thick lashes, grey hair peaking out from his cap that looks so soft, you want to reach out and feel it between your fingertips. his soft, full lips are turned up on one side, and the faintest dimple rests in his cheek.

"see somethin' ya like?"

you sit up in your seat, before looking up at him with wide eyes.

"how about a toast?" he continues, raising his flute with his right hand. "to finishing something hard, and celebrating with the best company in the entire world." you laugh at him before clinking your glass against his.

you take a sip, swallowing with a sigh. not only is this some of the best champagne you've ever had, but you're feeling on top of the world right now.

"thank you osamu. this is really special. i don't even know how to thank you," you look up at him with a shy smile, fingers wrapped around the class. osamu's eyes watch the bubbles rise to the surface before meeting your gaze.

"don't mention it. you deserve it, i mean that. you've worked really hard and you deserve a little fun."

you take another sip before nodding.

"you're right. but i still owe you."

osamu feels a little dizzy, and it's not the champagne. it's the smell of cinnamon that's been filling his senses ever since he sat down, the sound of your laugh and the warmth of your voice is making every part of him focus on you.

"a date," he looks up at you with a grin before wiggling his eyebrows. "i'll take ya wherever ya want. i know a few good spots. whaddya say, miss graduate?"

you set your champagne down, worried the alcohol is already getting to your head. when you look up and see osamu, looking at you with hopeful eyes and taking a sip of his own, you nod.

"i'd love to."

osamu beams, tongue in cheek before standing up to clear your plate before you. the two of you turn when the chimes on the front door ring, a young couple walking in.

"welcome to onigiri miya," he calls before walking to his previous spot behind the bar.

"i'll get ya at 7 tomorrow, how does that sound? i know you've got a lot of free time now."

your heart skips a beat before you nod your head.

"can't wait."

#miya osamu x you #osamu x reader fluff #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu oneshot #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq imagine #osamu miya imagine #osamu x reader

[everythingiaskfor]

His Hands

miya osamu x reader, post time skip. 

1.2k words

completely inspired by Blegh’s song “His Hands” :)

no warnings.

you’ve been working for miya osamu for about a year now.

it all started when you needed a job to help with college expenses, you looked everywhere, got some interviews but no success, until you noticed the poster glued to the door of an onigiri shop on the way to your college campus. you sent in your application, got called for an interview. when the day came, you were nervous because you didn’t have any experience working in a restaurant, but they called you so you had a chance, right? 

the interview went fine, and you were surprised that the very young looking man, miya osamu, who interviewed you, was the owner of the place and only a year older than you.. you got the job.  you learned how everything worked pretty quickly, and your shifts got easier as time went by. during the night shifts it was usually only you and osamu. you got to know the other  person who worked during the day, and experienced the lunchtime rush, and decided to never accept covering during lunch again.

for around a year you shared almost every night with osamu, running around trying to get everything done during the busier days, or just talking when the movement was weaker. the two of you created a code to make things easier on the busier days, not wasting time exchanging words. you got to know his twin, who would just show up and eat stuff like the place was his. he knew when you took your day off to go out with friends. you knew how he would act like he hated the days his friends from school would show up, and you knew that you could do most of the work so he could hangout with them. you got to know all about his volleyball career, and about the reputation the miya twins had. his friends told you stories of how he and atsumu would fight and makeup in less than an hour. you got to know about how mad atsumu was when osamu told him he wouldn’t pursue volleyball anymore. 

you knew when he would leave earlier for a date. you knew how he would act when trying to impress a cute client and how to ruin the vibe, and you knew he was going to complain about how you ruined his chance with a possible future wife. he knew when a client was bothering you and how to get you out of those situations. he knew about the worst dates you’ve had and all of your failed attempts in love. you knew that even though he was looking for it, no one wanted to be in a relationship with a guy who worked 24/7, even if it was to achieve his dream. 

he could see it on your face when you were upset about something, always saying that you could talk to him or take the day off. you could recognise the look on his face when he was starting to get discouraged when things got a little complicated. you knew how to say the right words to get him back on track, and you were the person he would happily share good news about the shop. after a year he wasn’t only your boss.  you’re friends who happened to work together. 

and it was in one of those calmer nights that you caught yourself staring at the kitchen, observing how his hands would carefully yet agilely cut the ingredients, how his posture was perfect even after 12 hours of work, how his arms would flex and his sleeves would tightly embrace his muscles. you shake off those thoughts when a customer comes in. 

after some weeks, osamu found himself admiring the way you would talk to clients, with a big smile, always welcoming, but didn’t let anyone take advantage of how nice you were.

sometime after that, you two were the only people in the building, closing the shop. osamu had been on a date the previous day and you decided to ask him how it went. he was telling you about how his date was nice but did a bunch of annoying things. but all you could pay attention to was how he felt handcrafted just for you, and how you knew exactly the things he liked by now. but you change subjects, trying to put away those thoughts. it was late, so he gave you a ride home, and once again you found yourself staring at his hands, now on the steering wheel. but, in an inner fight with your own mind you start to think about how he was just out of your league, how you ruined every relationship you almost had, how he deserves someone better, how you had friends that would last longer, how they wouldn’t feel like monsters.

weeks passed and you would fall into that train of thought over and over, being unwanted, but wanting too much, feeding that idea but leaving yourself starving. that was until one night, in another of those casual late night conversations, you were side by side, doing whatever, you looked at him and he retributed the act, and the eye contact lasted a little bit too much for a conversation about nothing. and you realized that maybe you were falling, and maybe the tension was there because it wasn’t one sided. 

he tried to keep away from you for a while, and you didn’t try hard to reach for him, at this point, both of you were just confused about where were you standing. but the tension kept building and building, and at some point there was just no escaping.

it was around midnight, on a sunday, a busy evening and you barely had time to rest, after the last customer leaves you head to the kitchen. you meet a tired osamu, putting away some stuff and you get to the sink to wash the dishes. some minutes go by and not a single word exchanged, not that they weren’t needed, but no one felt safe enough to do so. 

“can you help me put these things back in place?” osamu breaks the silence. you nod and stand beside him, he gives you a pile of things and you got the storage room, you get to the small room, carefully putting everything in the places the were supposed to, and when turning around to leave he’s there, inches away from you, you look up to meet his gaze and you find him looking at you.

“sorry.” he says quietly, but not moving back or giving you a passage.

“it’s fine.” you answer, not moving either.

the silence is accompanied with prolonged eye contact. none of you dare looking away. your breath is getting shorter, a million thoughts per second. but you were caught up on him. suddenly you feel his hands moving up from beside him to cup your cheeks, and slowly leans and finally your lips touch. the kiss was tender, not rushed, but heated. it felt like you waited for it forever and you didn’t even know. you break the kiss, open your eyes. and you think about a million things to say nothing comes out. 

“i hope i didn’t read the situation wrong.” he says, taking his hand from your face to the back of his neck. 

“you didn’t. you have no idea how right you read it.” you answer. 

after so long, he wasn’t just your boss anymore. 

and you know you love him, and you might be in love with him.

#first time writing osamu hope it's good #hq osamu #miya osamu #osamu drabble #osamu headcanons #osamu fic #osamu fluff #miya osamu headcanons #miya osamu oneshot #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #osamu x you

[keitea]

when you try to kick him but he grabs your ankle and laughs as you stumble, trying to steady yourself. he leans in, the all-familiar smirk plastered on his face. "not so bold are we now, hmm?"

i like making myself blush from my own writing LOL

sugawara, OIKAWA, iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer, kuroo, atsumu, osamu (yall know why the twins are here), daichi <33

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #hq oneshots #haikyuu drabbles #sugawara x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #kuroo x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #daichi x reader #sugawara koushi #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #kuroo tetsurou #miya atsumu #miya osamu #sawamura daichi

[luvingtsumu]

★—MATERIALIST (requests: open)

MIYA ATSUMU

one 🔞 | two 🔞 | three 🔞 | four | five | six | seven |eight | nine 🔞

MIYA OSAMU

one 🔞

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS

timeskip!haikyuu boys → they swear they’re not possessive, but something about the way he saw you laughing with this other dude, woke up something inside of him.

toddler!haikyuu boys → they will be possesive over their favorite daycare caregiver.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader smut #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #haikyuu smut #materialist #luvingtsumu #haikyuu oneshot #miya twins #miya osamu #miya #atsumu miya #msby atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu fluff #hq atsumu #haikyu x reader #haikyu smut #hq fluff

[yandere-sins]

Hello, about your miya twin series, who would be the most dangerous and scary twin to deal with? Who would physically punish their darling if she misbehaved? What would a punishment scenario for both of them be like?

Good questions!

From a mental standpoint, I'd say Atsumu is the scarier twin.

He is somewhat laid-back, which would make you think he really isn't that bad, but in what he does, he is unpredictable. You'd think all he really wants is to hang out with his darling, watch movies, share snacks, cuddle, and fool around, but his mood regularly just... snaps. And suddenly, he is violently horny or in the mood to throw you around like a ragdoll. You learn to see the small signs like him grabbing you a little too tight or his eyes just turning ever so slightly darker as you two have a stare-off. But in the end, you can never be too sure when he either has enough of you or wants you more than ever. Atsumu leaves almost all the bruises on your body, is careless enough that you might break a bone if you resist him, and gives you trauma for days that will make you want to avoid him. But you shouldn't. Never deny him what he wants, or you'll suffer even more.

So Osamu is the more dangerous twin.

Osamu has his rules. His routine and how he wants things to be done. Much like his brother, he's not shy about putting you in your place. Still, while Atsumu is physical, Osamu is much more psychological in his abuse. He'll take your food from you if he feels like you don't appreciate it enough. He'll waterboard you in the bathtub if you dare to lock him out. He decides if you get to sleep on the bed between them or if you earned yourself a cold night on the floor. He gives you medicine. He gets you the essentials you need. If he says no clothes, then none of them will let you wear anything for however long Osamu decides. You might fear Atsumu's outbursts, but unless you are in good graces with Osamu, you fear upsetting him at all times and getting punished out of the blue—and most of the time, it's not even your fault. Osamu also gets mad at Atsumu (more than the other way around), and you are taking the fall for it.

Both of them might reason with the other if it benefits them, but you'll never be able to play them against each other. Unless you crave punishment, that is. However, who is the scarier and who is the more dangerous twin might also change daily. You are never safe ;)

Atsumu's punishments are more that he forces you to do something you don't want to do, like humor him once he gets home. He'll force you into a kiss if you don't come up to him and peck him on the cheek and, likewise, will cage you under him on the couch if you refuse to cuddle and watch a movie with him. He's not above forcing himself on you if you refuse his advances, and he doesn't really take care of you unless you are being extra nice to him. He'll cook if Osamu is out, but only if you tell him sweetly that you're hungry and let him coo over you and rub your belly. And then all he pulls from the cupboards is cup ramen.

Strangely enough, Osamu does the same, just differently and on a bigger scale than Atsumu's. Oh, so you don't want to welcome him? Well, no food for you. It's in the fridge, but if you go and get it, he'll put you through hell. Atsumu kept you from coming to him? Too bad. He's asking you to come and warm yourself up because it's cold, but you ignore him? No warm clothes are for you; look how you'll survive the night. It's bathtime, but you locked yourself into the bath alone? Someone doesn't want the privacy of a door or to be in the bathroom alone ever again.

For both, it's about making your life inconvenient unless you do exactly what they want. Which can be, as mentioned before, difficult because they change their minds like they change underwear. But being affectionate and inviting is always the right thing to do; it just really sucks when they'll eagerly take you up on any of your offers, rarely refusing even if you change your mind fast.

Hope that answered your questions! Thanks for asking!! I love the two of them so much ♥♥♥

#yandere atsumu #yandere osamu #yandere-talk #miya atsumu #miya osamu #atsumu miya #osamu miya #Haikyuu!! #Haikyuu #HQ!! #yandere haikyuu #yandere!haikyuu #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[loeyslover]

mind games

warnings: mental health problems, self harm, suicidal tendencies, unhealthy coping mechanisms, delusions, yandere behavior, obsession, psychological manipulation

mind games - sickick

growing up you knew your calling in life was to help people, to put the pieces of ones' broken fragments back together to fit what they used to be. you made the perfect fit for psychiatry, your heart finally finding where it would be useful once you were placed to work at the psychiatric ward.

trained to be stoic and indomitable in the field to avoid unhealthy attachment to patients, you thought you'd have no difficulty doing what your job required you to do; to hear what your patient was enduring mentally and prescribe the medication to unfocus the unhealthy thoughts. but you never once thought all that training would go out the window when you met him.

osamu miya, the deranged and psychotic, yet somehow charming male you'd been assigned. you'd spent hours listening to his thoughts and feelings finding them complex and thinking they needed to be deciphered, and maybe that way you could cure him. do what you were trained to do and stop the voices from plaguing his head, but somewhere along the way you succumbed.

you'd heard the stories, the way he'd scare off nurses and doctors, all whom had the same intentions you did. yet somehow you were different, you stood out amongst all personnel whom'd treated him. you made him feel a sense of peace in the grotesque place he'd reside in.

"again, samu?," you questioned, eyes landing on the fresh slices on the white skin of his forearms. "you've got to stop doing this, one of these days you'll slice too deep and never come back," you said, approaching his form with a first aid kid in hand to bandage his wounds.

the habit of his to slice through the flesh on his arms left scars littered all over the pale skin and left you with no choice but to come bandage him up each time it happened. he replied with the same answer each time you asked him about it, "the voices made him do it", they scattered whispers in his mind about the need to mutilate his own body to feel relief, to find escape from the hauntings in his mind.

but osamu had ulterior motives to hurt himself, he did it to feel the soft skin of your fingertips graze against his to heal him. to feel you kiss his scars and ask him to stop what he was doing. he'd never once felt so cared for and seen, so desired and loved for, but you awakened this inside him. the need to keep you all to himself, to seclude you away from the dangers of the world.

"i''d never go too deep darling," his orbs look into yours as you wrap sterile gauze around his cuts, "i don't know what exists after death, but i sure as hell know you're not there". your cheeks redden into a deep crimson shade, "then quit it, you're driving me crazy with worry every time you do this".

"i'm serious samu," you frown, "i'd hate to lose the patient i've done the most for, and i do it because i see through your facade, I know there's a good person deep inside of you".

"there's another side that you don't know," his voice deepens, his wrists wrapping around your own, a tight lock keeping you immobile. "I can't wait to get you all alone," a smirk spreading across his face as the fear pooled in your eyes, "watch me turn your mind into my home".

#yandere haikyuu #yandere osamu #miya osamu #miya twins #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #tw yandere #tw manipulation #yandere osamu x reader #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu Drabble #osamu x reader

[moonswolfie]

Dinner time

timeskip!Osamu x gn!reader

Warnings: Reader is skinny, (past) verbal abuse, ED (?)

This is very self-indulgent and I haven't been diagnosed with an ED but my relationship with food can be seen as ED-like so I put the warning there

I was in an Osamu mood so I decided to write a sweet little story for him ahahasshahsah this man ≧ ﹏ ≦ (please excuse my horrible attempt at giving Osamu the accent)

Being married to Osamu was great. He treated you well, was an entertaining person and you got hooked up with the latest sibling drama straight from him.

But the one part that always bothers you is mealtime. Osamu is a great cook, which isn't surprising since he owns a restaurant and you love his food.

This would be great if Osamu wouldn't dote on you through his food so much. He always gave you the biggest servings to make sure you were well-fed and happy. It was his way of showing he loves and cares about you.

Your stomach couldn't handle large servings of food, it never could, even since childhood. Your parents always made fun of you and told you that you eat like a little baby, so you were scared he would make fun of you too if you told him.

So you tried your hardest to eat as much as you could every time, even if you weren't hungry at all or even if you felt like throwing up after. You ate even if you didn't have an appetite.

But it was worth it, seeing him smile happily while you were eating his food.

It was time for dinner again, something you grew to dread more and more.

You see, Osamu thought you enjoyed eating such big portions since you always finished them so fast when in reality you were trying to get it over with as quick as possible. So he thought he would make then even bigger.

You knew he just wanted to see you happy and that it made him very happy seeing you eat his food but you couldn't handle it anymore.

"Come here, darlin'. I cooked yer favourite." Osamu invited you to sit with him. You tried your best to hide your discomfort as you sat down across from him.

Looking at your plate, you already felt nauseous. He really did cook your favourite, but the amount...

You couldn't bring yourself to do it anymore. You ate slowly, and eventually stopped, just picking at your food to give the illusion of eating.

Osamu seemed to notice pretty quick, since his usual smile wasn't there. "What's wrong? Why aren't ya eatin'?" he asked, concerned.

"Samu, I can't do this anymore." you put down the chopsticks, looking at him with worry. He seemed taken aback and confused by the sudden change of behaviour on your end.

"What are ya talkin' about?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Osamu, I've always had a really small appetite. I've never been able to handle big portions of food and I often feel sick after eating." you confessed, looking down at your plate. Now you're going to be made fun of, told you look like a twig, that you eat like a toddler. Maybe he'll tell you to stop being ridiculous and keep eating.

You closed your eyes in anticipation of whatever insult was going to be thrown your way.

"...Why didn't ya tell me that?" his question surprised you, opening your eyes to look at him. He looked concerned.

"I'm sorry it's just- You looked so happy when I ate all your food. I didn't want to let all the food you cook for me go to waste." you admitted, looking down at your plate again.

"So ya mean to tell me you've been forcin' yerself to eat all that food for months now." he crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes. You shrunk under his gaze.

"Maybe... I'm so sorry for not telling you sooner, I-"

"What am I gonna do with ya? You gotta tell me these things, ya know?" he sighed, expression softening.

"...You're not mad?"

"Why would I be?" he looked at you as if you said something really ridiculous.

"My parents used to get mad at me when I didn't eat and called me a baby and a skeleton for eating so little." you didn't dare to look at him after you admitted that.

"Yer parents are assholes. Yer the one who knows yer body the best, I ain't gonna judge ya fer that." you couldn't stop the smile that crept up on your face. He was... okay with it?

"I'm just mad ya didn't tell me sooner. Now I feel bad for makin' you eat all that food." his eyebrows furrowed.

"No, don't feel bad. I was the one who didn't say anything and ate the food." you assured him with a relieved expression.

"Your food is amazing, I would just prefer if you gave me smaller portions from now on." you reached over the table to lightly grab one of his hands, squeezing it affectionately.

"I got ya. And by the way, yer body is beautiful." he said, squeezing your hand back.

#˗ˏˋ ★ ☁︎ 「Wolfie's works」 ☾ ★ ˎˊ˗ #self indulgence at its finest #haikyuu x you #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #miya osamu x reader #hq osamu #miya osamu #osamu x y/n #osamu fluff #osamu x reader #x reader #oneshot #angst to fluff #comfort

[aboutkiyoomi]

bed peace

synopsis: after a very hurtful breakup, osamu takes his time to help you heal and takes the time to call suna out on his bs. at graduation, osamu offers up a deal that you almost can’t pass up.

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff 

pairings: osamu x g!n reader (mentions of past suna x g!n reader)

pre a/n: not proofread so don’t eat me up but this is a second part to my angst suna x reader oneshot, linked right here 📍

a/n: it’s kinda funny how this was requested since i only wrote that because it was my personal situation that i turned into a oneshot to feel better. you guys r so cute haha (thank you to @multi-fandom-fanfic for the req and reblog!)

‘ after the breakup, you were notably upset. everyone in a 5 mile radius could tell you were heartbroken.

‘ suna avoided you like the plague the entire duration of exam week. he couldn’t bear the guilt of seeing you.

‘osamu ignored suna for a couple days for how he treated you, claiming that he needed to “think about how much of a dickhead he was being”

‘ osamu made sure to lift your spirits as much as he could, it was so sweet.

“why does y/n look so sad all the time? i thought you guys were on good terms?” atsumu asked as he sat down between suna and osamu during graduation rehearsal.

“nah. we’re done, like for good.” suna mumbled, not even bothering to look up as he continued to scroll on his phone.

“what happened?” atsumu asked, his eyebrows raising at suna’s nonchalant demeanor. it was unusual to see suna ever talk about you with such lackluster eyes.

“dumbass over here was all cuddled up with some girl during the third year picnic.” osamu answered before suna could get the chance, glaring at him slightly.

“wha- you guys were on a break then, no? sunarin, wtf?” atsumu spoke, his face curling up in a displeased way.

“i wasn’t even doing anything. like you said, it was a break. they took it personally i guess because they thought we were getting back together.” suna started with a harsh sigh, eyes refusing to look up because he knew osamu and probably atsumu were now glaring daggers at him.

atsumu and osamu considered you a really good friend. when suna introduced you to them, you guys immediately bonded. the twins treated you as a sweet little sibling and always made sure to threaten suna for hurting you.

“you are such a dickhead. i hope you know that.” osamu scoffed, his irritation for the whole situation was strong. 

after the picnic, osamu made sure to text you after seeing you walk off with tears staining your face. he wanted to give you space but wanted to make sure that you were alright because he cared for you a lot more than he led on. after a couple of days of sulking, osamu pulled you aside after your chemistry exam and asked you what was wrong. you explained everything and he immediately began comforting you. he went straight to suna and asked about the sitaution, wanting to hear both sides of the story. after hearing suna’s, samu immediately chewed him out. 

“it was a break, samu. i didn’t even do anything with ayako. i don’t know why you keep bitching about it.” suna spit, his phone finally shut off and his head shot up in irritation.

“maybe because you literally broke, y/n? you led them on for weeks, ever since our last volleyball game. texting them and saying that you loved them. who wouldn’t think you wanna get back together after that? they were so hopeful, just to see you all cuddled up and giggly with some girl. you’re such a dick, you don’t even feel bad. you could at least apologize, have some fuckin’ decency.” osamu’s voice raised slightly, his hands shaking as he moves toward suna.

“that wasn’t my fucking intention, they should’ve never took it to heart. if you care about y/n so damn much, why not go fucking date them. how much longer are you gonna chew me out? i know what i did was fucking stupid, i’ve tried apologizing but they blocked me on everything. what else do you want me to do?” suna yells, passerbys begin to look over at them. atsumu finally steps in and tells both samu and suna to keep it down because you were sitting not far across the room with a group of your friends.

“maybe, apologize in person and i’ll stop chewing you out. if you just act like you actually loved them and maybe, just maybe, sunarin, you would never be in this situation.” osamu spit before standing up and stalking off to go sit by himself, closer to y/n.

suna looks over to atsumu and begins to open up his mouth but atsumu cuts him off with a quick dissapointed head shake before speaking, “no, you fucked up. ya gotta fix it, sunarin.” and walks off to join his brother, leaving suna in his silence.

****

graduation rehearsal ended and you spent most of the free time sitting with your friends and the twins, laughing about silly school memories. it had been 2 weeks since the break up and although you were busy, you were still really upset. even after it all, osamu stayed by your side and tried to make you smile and laugh as much as possible.

as you said goodbye to your friends, preparing to walk home you heard someone call your name. you turned around to see suna, standing there. your eyes widened and you spun on your heels, ready to walk away.

“wait, y/n. please, i just want to explain.” suna spoke, his eyes pleading as he walked closer to you.

“what.” you spoke, not bothering to look up, passing off an irritated voice.

“um..i just wanted to explain. i’m sorry if i lead you on, i never really intended on getting back toget-” suna started, his fingers fumbling with the edges of his shirt.

“i’m gonna stop you there. if that was the case, you could’ve said something. the reason for that break was for you to be honest about what you wanted. so don’t try and say that you “didnt mean too,” you spoke and suna retaliated in an embarrassed silence.

“i’m sorry..you didn’t deserve that and you should know that nothing was ever going on with me and that girl, from the third year picnic. i really wish you the best, i’m sorry...again.” suna said, making sure to finally look up at your state. your eyes lacked their normal shine and your face wasn’t as radiant as it used to be, the guilt and regret was hitting him like a bus.

“not saying we’re gonna be cool after this but i appreciate it. have a good life too, suna.” you finished before walking off in the opposite direction, leaving suna to his thoughts again. it seems that it was now suna’s time to be heartbroken.

*****

graduation day

“i can’t believe it, we’re finally graduates. it’s so cool that we’ll be going to the same college.” you said to osamu as you guys waited for atsumu to finish crying over his high school days being over and saying goodbye to nearly the entire population of third years.

“yea, seems like you’re the only one excited.” samu says, somber smile gracing his features.

“tsumu still pissed at you?” you asked, patting his shoulder sweetly.

“yup, only talked with me when our ma’ wanted pictures. he’ll get over it, he’s excited to see me open up a restaurant, he just won’t admit it.” osamu spoke with a sigh as he leaned his weight on you. both of you chatting before osamu noticed suna glancing over at you with sad eyes.

“hey, y/n. are you okay? after ya know, suna almost ruined the end of your third year.” osamu asked gently, pushing you back slightly so he can look you in your eyes.

“it sucks but he apologized and honestly, i’m over it. it was what it was. i’m ready to move on.” you said, confidently as you smiled happily at osamu who’s face lit up with warmth.

“oh and y/n, you deserve real love and someone who’s willing to give it to you.” osamu said, his eyes never leaving yours.

“maybe i’ll find them in college.” you replied.

“or maybe, it could be me.” osamu said, smile growing larger as he watched your eyes widen slightly in shock.

“i like you a lot y/n....you don’t have to answer now. there’s a lot of time for us to become....us.” samu said before pulling you in for a quick hug, allowing you to relax at how comforting osamu had always been.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #osamu miya #osamu x you #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #Suna Rintarou #suna oneshot #osamu oneshot #suna x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu hurt/comfort #milaniworks

[starsologyy]

𐙚˙✧˖° 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐍 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐘. ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ AN ONESHOT ft. MIYA OSAMU.

synopsis ─ during your struggle in solving a math problem, you're stressed enough to contact miya osamu for some help. when he comes over, you find out he just might have bought over some curry.

clever as one may possibly be amidst land that itself has seen varieties of intelligences and theories that date back to a singular chance in space, it’s rare to be true that you surpass the greatest of those who have or currently lived on it. on this planet where they were able to formulate their outlandish belief because a simple explosion of a vermillion star amongst the million alike has kept expanding through within this impossibly finite universe and gave them what they required. it would be extremely arrogant to say you shine brighter than their legacies.

but you’re not saying that, no. of course not. because even with the hand drilled (done horrendously by your parents) onyx frames laminated papers glued to the painted walls and other declarations of academic merit, you find yourself stuck on a math problem that photomath can’t even seem to recognize. albert einstein could do this in his sleep. apparently he was studying it at twelve, and you at eighteen can’t even get past the first lesson with the help of every resource printed on the internet. 

for hours on end, the scrabble of your 0.7 lead in your clear plastic muji pencil (that’s supposed to inspire your supposed intelligence) is already leaving dents into a paper that not even a white block eraser could possibly get rid of.  your vein randomly strengthens and appears out of your forehead through the thin skin of the overly priced honeydew facial mask, while your calloused fingertips have to feel the dent of the heavy pencil at this point of the silent night where you thought you would have been resting by now. a meal and a thirty minute nap hasn’t helped you solve it somehow, and it doesn’t help you have five exams the next day.

the very bags that drag beneath your eye are ingrained in the flushed flesh you possess, for how they so delicately hang on your face’s incomparably stable bone structure like these bags have used their claws beforehand to claim some rightful place. you know they aren’t going to magically disappear with concealer tomorrow unfortunately. their appearance has caused you to venture and wind into a rather dark path under this dim moonlight, which continues to cradle the anguished clicks of your very tongue with a soothing quietness.

and it’s all because you’re so desperate you glance at your phone to check the people on the classroom app possibly there. before you’re about to press this one person’s tiny little message icon, your  sharp fingertips pinch the fat of your thigh to see if you now have a nightmare. you don’t wake up. unfortunately. 

you sigh to yourself. it’s miya osamu, a name which lingers to be typed on the digital keyboard and at the tip of your tongue similar to a mint you have failed to savor out of human impulsivity. 

you don’t exactly admire how the corners of his blushed lips turn into a shit eating grin when you ask him for help in nutri sci. it’s not even great help, honestly.  maybe because you focused on his hands glide over to yours and grab your pencil so easily to always find an error in your procedure of a delicious pastry up for the teacher’s approval more than actually listening to what he says. when he’s done, he just gives you a knowing look before sliding it back and heading back to whatever he was doing at the moment. you always had hoped he didn’t notice you spacing out at the sight of his forearms. especially now. 

you find yourself hopeless for even texting this man, and expecting a response. but he’s also in your math class, and maybe because how good he is at somewhat approximating measurements without a look at the cup, it could mean he’s also useful in calculus. it takes your absolute strength to type, and you pray he doesn’t question who you are. you had to ask for his number for a group project once, and you worry perhaps he has forgotten your number entirely by now. 

“r u awake?”

simple text, nothing should go wrong. 

but a minute goes, and you’re about to call it quits for the night. he’s already sleeping probably. your eyes shut in a mere exhaustion, one familiar to nights where you prolong the fruit of relaxation in exchange for a stupid 100 or check mark on an assignment. 

“yeah. what’s up?” 

you sit up, racing for your phone before staring at the message. you’re grinning, and you don’t know why this is, but it’s oddly getting you quite ecstatic. it’s the idea of being able to get sleep finally that’s driving you so insane.  

but you’ll play it cool. you’re always cool right?

“i need help. on problem 21, can you tell me what you did? o_o” you text. the emoji looks cute you must say.

three minutes go by. you worry he’s suddenly asleep now. 

“nah. it’s not fair for me to just send you the answer.” he responds. “i kinda worked hard…”

you almost bite the thickness of your pale nails off like a beaver to use those jagged ends in slightly peeling your mask for some sort of relief at this anxious mess. 

“but, how about if i come over and help?” osamu texts a moment later. “keke ;)”

you forget he’s the twin of a guy who does the same exact thing over texting. 

“and i know it’s late, but my ma made some good curry and i can bring it over. unless your parents would be mad or sum idk” he adds, and your heart almost rips from the restraint of the very veins in your body from the adrenaline that makes it race at the words he so charmingly types. 

“sounds good?”

“ofc.” 

your feet plant themselves at the last step of the creaking staircase currently. the clamminess somehow is able to hold your phone tight though, and you suspect it’s out of fear that you would have to pay for a new one that would cost about a grand if you crack it. 

a) your parents would behead you.

b) miya osamu would get the weird pleasure to brag that he had a girl so “wet”, she broke an expensive phone over him. 

with either one undesirable to say the very least, you now decide to sit on that same step. in this uncomfortable silence, you now feel a bead of sweat make a slow plop on your complexion. to make yourself presentable, you first wipe that one drop of sweat, but then you overly shake at the thought he may judge you in this moment.

and if miya osamu judges you, how will you continue to exist? should you even continue to exist? (as dramatic that may sound to many). 

but it too brings the fruition of a series of questions well warranted from which friends will message when you eventually gush to them about the miya osamu being oh so angelic to have blessed your house with his very presence. perhaps it would call the notion of concern in the heavens if you mention it’s ten pm and you had been inspired to hide him from the eyes of your parents. it creates perceptions that you’re hiding him as an illicit lover, and not a woman who struggles in math class. 

for your sake of comfort though, he’s not one to be sociable, so you don’t really notice him out of classes you share much, nor do you judge him for that. assumptions of impermissible love may (relaxingly) rest in a coffin if he’s samu to everybody else but simply miya to you in that gym class you also share. 

but he’s also the nicest to you when he gives you the ball to try something out in a volleyball game in your rather boring gym class. maybe you’re not the best, but you don’t hear a single groan of complaint from him. you call out miya so airily when your spike just tips before hitting over the net, and you often notice him just stifling a laugh before helping you. he usually ditches some water break to do so. perhaps he just gets tired and feels bad that you often don’t have a ball to play with.

one day you guys can play a game at the gym, if he gets along with you tonight. 

plus, no matter how you twist this unconventional recipe for disaster, he’s not the worst guy. and he’s not the worst eye candy either. 

you should know the best out of everybody how attractive osamu is since you stare at him too often when your nutri sci teacher is about to talk you into hearing a lullaby with a burning hot stove in front of you. his eyes have a lack of hue which match the metal bowls in your shared cooking class. you stare at them often when he doesn’t realize, and you doodle his “horribly” structured face in your assigned recipe book. sometimes you draw the pupils in swirls from how the milky way reflects in them in real life instead of actually also listening to how much sugar you add in those cookies may give someone diabetes. bad habit of course. 

now that you think about it, now you want a milky way chocolate bar. oops.

his muscles are great too. especially the forearms, when you watch the stretch randomly or use it to carry things out of the oven that may break down at any moment. 

you’re about to go on another worry rampage but you hear the door knock. you falsify reality where you were simply upstairs doing work while waiting because to admit you were waiting like a fool at the stairs would cause you to faint if he ever found out, and you “calmly” open the door.

“hey.” he grins, and you have a small smile already. there’s a huge aluminum party tray in his hands, steaming.  

“hi.”

you almost stare for too long, a stupid smile on your face as you slightly sway back and forth accidentally. 

“earth to [y/n]? going to let me in? please? the curry is burning my hands.” he chuckles after a moment, and you quickly nod, “oh shit yeah—” you blurt as you let him follow up to your (now) clean room to set the curry down on your dresser next to your haphazardly piled makeup bag. “sorry!!” you add. 

“you can sit anywhere.” you chuckle nervously, in which he nods in response, sitting on your bed which is beside the desk where the homework is. “thanks for the curry by the way.”  you murmur, finding him another pencil after you knew you couldn’t stare at him stretching at the moment unless you wanted him to catch you for being some weirdo. 

“no problem.” osamu hummed, looking over the problem since it was easy to reach. “this one was weird, but i can explain it. we should eat though. you can’t think on an empty stomach,” he starts, his stomach rumbling to interrupt him. it makes you laugh admittedly. “and I can’t explain on an empty stomach.” he groans, “i got home from practice too late to eat.”

“i can get us plates and some spoons—” “forget plates, i ain’t going to want to clean it anyways. spoons will do good.” you chuckle in response, and you run back down to get the spoons mentioned. 

when you’re back, he opens the aluminum foil his mom tightly wrapped like she’s holding the secrets of her grandma’s recipe, and then gladfully takes the metal spoon from you. your eyes glance to find a seat, or to wonder if you must run back down to drag some chair up here, but he solves your issues by patting the open spot next to him on the bed. a part of your neck tilts in confusion. 

me?

sitting next to you? 

“it’s not that serious.” he answers as if he just read your mind. “just sit next to me.” he shrugs, offering you a soda he seems to have remembered at the moment after he had just rummaged through his bag for it. you almost malfunction, but you listen and enjoy the bubbling fizz on your delicate tongue. 

osamu takes a bite of the thick and silky brown curry accompanied with the soft white bed of rice, making sure to get a golden potato or two in his bite. you’re a little hesitant to reach over, but he moves over on the bed as he makes sure you’re able to also get a bite.

“is it good?” you take a big bite of the curry carrot, and he n nods. “obviously. my ma makes the best curry. i wouldn’t embarrass myself by giving a pretty girl some shit food.  I gotta take the recipe from her one day if you like it.” he grins, and your face feels like he had roasted it instead of the curry powder in the roux. 

was that a slip up? or is he that charismatic behind the closed doors and the ball which often blocks a majority of his face when he spikes?  

“she really does make the best curry,” you muffle with another five bites in your mouth, and he laughs as he does so with another six bites. you figure to let yourself go, so in this cramped vicinity of the warmth of which your bodies are only a inch apart,  you’re starting to not feel as nervous anymore to where you forget that he can see every imperfection on your face, or how you’re gobbling this curry like it’s no tomorrow. he doesn’t seem to complain that his hand accidentally touches yours when he tries to relax while he chews.

soon you’re both finished with a rim of curry around your lips, you both stifle laughter at the sloppiness of it all  as you grab a paper napkin to clean it off. a comfortable silence occurs for a minute or so as you guys steal glances at each other

you never thought his laugh would be so loud, nor do he think yours would just be so bright. 

“sooo, you going to help?” you whistle as you look away, and he nods. he looks at your paper again, glancing over at you. “your equation didn’t work in the first place because you said 10 + 11 = 22.” he laughs, and you almost screech as you grab the paper back. no fucking way you made that mistake!

“but since i’m here, i guess i can also try to explain why ten plus eleven doesn’t equal twenty two. you know, since i’m so amazing or whatever.” osamu hums, planting his head on your cherry printed pillows, that stormy cloud hue of his head full of messy hair, a rather pretty one to accompany the vibrancy of the crimson of the fruit on your sheets. you can’t help but hold your face away from his cocky and rather lazy grin, instead staring at how your feet shift back and forth to stimulate a dash away from this moment. “shut up miya. you’re so so annoying.” you huff.

“really? like i’m the one who contacts random classmates for math help at nine pm. alright, whatever you say. you got that.” he chuckles and you instinctively turn to swat his chest, accidentally brushing your fingertips along the ridges of his abs. you instantly retract your hands back, but he’s laughing now at how flustered you seem to be. “and i ain’t the one either to be all up on my random, poor classmates.”

“then just leave.” you whine, getting up from your bed as you plan to go into the bathroom to screech. “but it isn’t that deep.” he says casually. “we can hang out. just call me samu though.” osamu hums. 

you raise a brow. “i thought you would want me to call you miya, since i don’t really know you all that well.”

“well, i don’t wanna be confused with my annoying twin brother. so you’re good. plus, i like it when you say it.” you scrunch your face at that sly little flirt of his, and he laughs once more. 

“did i not tell you  miss chang won’t be here tomorrow?” he adds, and your head tilts one more. “maybe we can just not worry about your homework and just plan to do something tomorrow—”

“…no? you didn’t tell me anything.”

“oh. oops. guess i didn’t tell you.”

“I’m really debating on going out with you then. you didn’t think it was smart to tell me i had an extra day to worry about this homework before you came over?” you grunt, close to swatting his head and dragging him by the foot since he plasters a nervous smile.

“please?” he mockingly pouts.

“fine.” you roll your eyes. 

he grins. “so, you wanna go to a curry shop tomorrow?”

#miya osamu #osamu miya #hq #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #miya twins #osamu fluff #hq fic #hq osamu #osamu x reader #osamu smut #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fandom #haikyuu oneshot

[sashimiyas]

Sweet and Sour (alternatively titled: The Way A Pendulum Swings)

Summary: You’re convinced your roommate, Miya Osamu, hates you. His brother, Miya Atsumu, is not. And he’s willing to bet 5,000 yen on it. 

Genre: Miya Osamu x reader; fluff; roommates to lovers; one drunken love confession from Atsumu to Osamu but in a brotherly love kind of way; another drunken love confession but from Osamu; 85% dialogue; Osamu and reader have a height difference; Atsumu is sponsored by Adidas so if you hate them, don’t read; and Osamu and reader have a brief conversation of bowel movements once; 50% unedited; I think that's it.

Word count: 7.3k

A/n: atsumu and osamu both talk too much and me being the writer, does too. honestly? you won’t gain anything from reading this. this is purely self-indulgent because i love writing about the brothers.

Osamu’s avoiding you. At least, that's what you convince yourself anyways when your phone call goes straight to voicemail for the umpteenth time this week. Not wanting to be a clingy roommate, you’ve allowed him his space. You know he’s a busy man after all. He comes home ragged, leaning against the doorframe as he kicks off his shoes, and he likes to hog the couch after dinner with a sliver of his happy trail showing at the way his shirt lifts up while he obsessively checks Yelp reviews of his restaurant only for him to do it all over again in less than ten hours.

Yes, he is a busy man, but never so consumed by work that he leaves your phone calls forgotten. You’re at least warranted a call back a couple of hours later or even a text asking what’s up. Now, you’re lucky to get a sticky note on the fridge that tells you not to worry about buying soy milk and that he’ll get it on his way home tonight. If he even comes home.

It hardly feels like living with him at all lately. The only evidence of a roommate is a blanket he kindly decides to lay over you when you accidentally fall asleep on the couch and an open jar of red bean paste that he likes to leave on the counter no matter how many times you yell at him.

So, in need of a specialist, you end up outside of Onigiri Miya right before closing with Miya Atsumu by your side.

“He’s not going to be happy when he sees us,” you mutter under your breath after an older woman walks past, staring at the store front. The scent of powdery perfume tickles your nose that you scrunch it up to abate its sting. Lanterns keep the outside bright with large banners swaying effortlessly in the evening breeze. It's cozy, inviting, and according to the menu boards outside displaying prices and pictures of the wide array of items Osamu offers, very affordable.

You weren’t there when this building had been an old and ominously boarded up shack. Actually, Osamu was a vague idea that Atsumu would only mention in passing; but a job transfer from Osaka to Hyogo, Atsumu’s nosy nature who decides to offer his twin brother’s home without even asking, and Osamu’s unrivaled hospitality that extends beyond the restaurant, your whole life changed in a quick train trip and a blink of an eye. Recollections from both twins talk of the tenacity and sweat that it took to make Osamu’s dreams come true and there’s a photo album on one of your shelves that documents the whole process (a gift from Suna) so nothing fills you with more joy than seeing the tangible success of Osamu’s hard work.

“Damn guy better be happy seeing his brother.” Atsumu huffs. “He ain't seen my face in weeks.”

“He sees your face every time he looks in the mirror.” You joke by throwing one of his favorite phrases at him. You don’t believe it at all. Having known Atsumu first and becoming Osamu’s roommate second, you’re well familiar with the idiosyncrasies they bear that make them different, but a petty scowl from Atsumu is always worth laughing at. “I’ll bet you five hundred yen he tells us to fuck off.”

Atsumu laughs like it’s an inside joke, shaking his head. “No way. He’ll tell me to fuck off, but never ya. Not when it comes to ya.”

“That's not true. If he didn’t hate me, he’d actually pick up and come home every once in a while.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“That's rich coming from you.”

Atsumu gives a goodhearted chuckle at that one, catching your eye in the warm lantern light. When he does, he suddenly becomes serious. He takes the sleeve of his sweater and wipes the grin off his face, clearing his throat at the same time.

“Tell ya what.” Atsumu starts, “I’ll bet ya five thousand yen that Osamu will not tell ya to fuck off. In fact, I bet he’ll actually even be happy seeing ya.”

“Someone’s been making money,” You murmur, impressed with the higher wager.

Atsumu gives a cocky rub of the shoulder, looking close to a peacock spreading its tail feathers, “Oh, ya know. Just got some new sponsorships in. No big deal.”

Then he obnoxiously coughs under his breath, “Adidas.”

Yes, you roll your eyes but nothing can stop the proud smile that makes its way across your face.

“So ya know, I’m willing to throw down a couple thousand yen for something like this.”

There’s no way you can back down from an opportunity to prove Atsumu wrong. “You’re on then, Miya.”

“Alright,” Atsumu gives a cocky shrug, shaking his head in the process, ever so confident. Your resolve falters only slightly until you remember that Osamu truly is avoiding you. You must have done something (did you leave your laundry in the dryer for too long? Was it because you liked to let your dishes soak in the sink sometimes?) to have him peeved and he’s too courteous to be upfront about it.

Atsumu opens the door for you. A rush of vinegar and the briny smell of seaweed wafts under your nose, “Get ready to pay for my tab the whole night.”

“If he doesn’t tell you to fuck off, I will,” you snip only for Atsumu to become increasingly entertained.

One twin annoys you. the other avoids you. Is it bad to say that you’d rather have it the other way around? At least then, you could have Osamu’s attention. The question stands though, why do you want it so bad anyways?

The answer punches you right in the gut, as heavy as the rice sacks Osamu carries, when he ducks through the black, cloth partition that divides the eating area with the back of house. A sense of longing whirls in your stomach that manifests into anxiousness when his gaze quickly pans on yours, an unfiltered look of shock that becomes distracted by Atsumu's smug grin.

“What are ya doing here?” There's a hostility in his voice that is contradicted by his actions. He sounds irritated only for him to walk right past the register and pull his brother into a deep hug that always ends with a hearty slap on the back, i.e. the universal bro hug. Osamu only nods at you awkwardly. You return the gesture just as clumsily. Aaand it’s definitive. He hates you.

Atsumu keeps a lazy arm around his brother’s shoulder and pats the man on his chest. “Holiday coming up. Got the whole week off for it.”

“Shit,” Osamu curses under his breath. “That's right. Need to staff extra next week.” Then he looks at his brother, sizing him up carefully. “Ya mind helping out?”

“I’m here for vacation, not to work.”

“I’ll pay ya in onigiri.”

“Well,” Fool, you want to snort when Atsumu debates the idea in his head. He takes a step back so that he can ponder the thought, tapping his chin lightly. You can only roll your eyes at how easy he is to bribe, a trait that Osamu likes to exploit. “A day won’t hurt, I guess. But that means ya owe me.”

Osamu glares at the prospect. “Owe ya how? I'm already paying ya.”

Hardly, you want to add but considering you’re already on his bad side, you keep your mouth shut.

“Ya gotta go out with us.” An arm around your shoulder from one twin deepens the frown on the other.

“Ain’t no way I got time for that.” Osamu immediately dismisses with little thought as he crosses his arms. “I'll make do without ya.”

“Ahhh, come on.” Atsumu whines and pulls you flush against him. You’re used to Atsumu’s relaxed nature. His words sometimes may cut harsh, but you can always deduce how he truly feels in how he holds himself, and others with how touchy he is.  “We came all the way out here. It's my first night back in Hyogo. Ya really gonna turn me down like that?”

Osamu gives a hard yes, staring his twin down before taking a quick glance at you. His firm gaze hardens, then travels to the right, beyond your shoulder. The intensity makes you gulp, almost makes you want to look back and see what he sees, only for Atsumu to cut through it breezily.

“You’re heartless.”

“Well ya mug’s ugly.”

“We’ve got the same face!” There it is, the one liner that always shows up in any conversation concerning the Miya twins.

At the sound of your laughter, Atsumu conceives a brilliant plan. “Wouldn’t ya be sad if Samu doesn’t tag along?”

You know he’s insinuating your conversation outside. There’s a piece of you that’s afraid, the one who doesn’t want to find out it’s not true- that he can actually say no to you. But there’s another part of you that wants to test his theory, because what would it mean if he can’t?

You look up at your estranged roommate inquisitively, his attention all on Atsumu. He looks paler than you remember and his hair is a little more unkempt, like he’s been restless. Immediately, you know what you want to do.

“Will you come with us Osamu?” You ask sweetly and fold your hands over each other in nervousness. “We really want you to. And you deserve it, don’t you think?”

“Well,” and just the sound of him considering, even if it’s not a yes, makes your heart swell in rapid bursts. Atsumu shares the giddiness with you, a naughty smirk caught between his lips as he looks down at you. You hardly process Atsumu’s smug I told you so grin.

“I don’t got a change of clothes.”

“Got ya covered.” Atsumu fishes into the athletic bag on his shoulder and throws a shirt at him.

Osamu analyzes it in mild disgust.

“It ain’t never been used, ya jerk. Ya think I’d do that to ya?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Not today. I'm actually feeling very generous today.”

Peaks of silver shine as Osamu glares, “That’s even more suspicious.”

“Ya ever think how all of this will affect my self-esteem?” Atsumu places a palm against his chest in mock hurt, “with all of ya making fun of me and what not?”

“No.” You and Osamu say in tandem.

Sneaky giggles turn awkward when he catches your gaze and then quickly looks away. It’s irritating and heartbreaking at the same time. He gives you the smallest bit of attention, a glimpse of normalcy, and then runs away like a skittish pup found on the road.

“Will ya go and get changed?” Atsumu pushes his brother off with a groan, “I’m tired of being a target.”

Once his brother is out of sight, Atsumu can’t help but poke you in the ribs with his stupid, pointy fingers. Your small yelp is swatted away when he places an open palm in front of you.

“Chuck it up. I want my money.” He opens and closes his palm to further his point while you roll your eyes. “Ya saw that, didn’t ya? Said no to me, but agreed when ya piped in.”

“He didn’t really agree.” You hum the final vowel, tipping the word clumsily out of your mouth.

“Will ya shut up?”Atsumu bonks you on the head. “He’s in the bathroom changing. He’s going to the bar with us. He agreed.”

“I mean, but like, he didn’t say it.”

“Ya know what? Keep ya money but I want a drink right when we get to the bar. Whiskey sour. Two! You’re giving me a headache, ya really are.” He shakes his head, muttering under his breath the final words.

“You’re making me question my existence if you of all people are telling me that I’m giving you a headache.”

Atsumu doesn’t respond because something else has caught his attention.

“What the fuck?” Atsumu looks at his brother in disgust. You turn your head swiftly to catch what he’s seeing only to find Osamu walking towards the both of you. He looks normal.

“What?”

Atsumu punches Osamu's chest. The natural haired twin cocks his head, slightly miffed,  questioning what he’d done to warrant his brother’s reaction.

“What the fuck, Samu?” Atsumu steps back and crosses his arms. “How do ya look better in my shirt than I do?”

Osamu puffs his chest out in pride, smirking at the other twin’s admission. “I’m just built different.”

“We’re twins!” Atsumu flails his hands at the outrageous remark.

Your giggle is a calling card. Delight forms in Osamu's chest, warming his skin like the sun in an inescapable summer. For the first time that night, he looks at you, truly looks at you, and despite all the things people say about looking at the sun, he holds his gaze.

Atsumu’s up to something, you’re finally able to deduce when he’s pushing you into the front seat of Osamu’s truck with excuses that he has to pick Suna up so you can’t ride with him. You should have known that his earlier offer of a ride before heading to Onigiri Miya was far too generous to not be laced with hidden motives.

Now, without the affable Atsumu charm as a buffer, the two of you sit in rickety silence. Dust has settled into the secondhand truck’s bones, creaking at every rotation of the wheel and Osamu’s radio fades in and out depending on the signal. He’s lucky enough to have an aux cord that you’d usually link to your phone even before buckling your seatbelt.

But boundaries have been drawn and he hasn’t offered. So, intermittent silence it is.

You’d joke about the crumbs your feet gloss over on the floor, play a little guessing game of what he ate. With the green flakes and a crumpled napkin, you’re guessing a matcha cream roll from 7/11.

Now, unfortunately, it feels just as comfortable as a cab. You squish into yourself, trying to take the least amount of space possible.

“Hot?” Osamu asks, but is already turning the air down. He shifts the vents to the right, one pointing down towards your lap and the other upward towards your head.

Your palms are sweating, rubbing against your legs, but you deny, feeling too much of a nuisance already. “No, I’m fine.”

“Change it if ya need to.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, but just that bit of conversation, no matter how difficult it was, has unplugged the feelings you’ve been trying hard to repress.

“I watered the plants.” Apparently proper horticulture is what you’ve been tamping down in your chest. Cringing into yourself immediately, you turn to face the window to hide the palpable embarrassment.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Goosebumps rise to your skin. The small hairs on your arm sway with the airflow of the a/c and gives you this manic feel that a stray hair is stuck to your arm. You contemplate simply throwing yourself out the window. He can’t be going more than 75 kilometers per hour. You doubt it’d be lethal, because this here is unbearable. Maybe a STOP sign could knock you out and stop these stupid feelings!!

“Are ya constipated or something?” Osamu eyes you warily from the driver’s seat. His question is so out of pocket, you look at him in horror.

“No.”

“Ya look like ya need to take a shit.”

Furiously shaking your head, “Absolutely not.”

The topic of bodily functions usually isn’t as unnerving as it is now. Being roommates and all, he’s been your unsung hero when the bathroom runs out of toilet paper and Osamu might have eaten something a little too spicy once or twice, leaking slobber over your sink while you laughed at his pain. But now, you don’t even feel quite like roommates, or even friends for that matter. It hurts more than you expected, but you shouldn’t be surprised with the big part he plays in your life.

You’d never been a morning person, but for him, you’re willing to wake up an extra ten minutes earlier so you can get his coffee going. And he makes grocery shopping fun, like an adventure when before you’d always thought it to be a tedious chore. Sometimes he loses his things and leaves imprints of his existence in his wake, (a throw blanket unfolded on the couch, his open jar of adzuki paste on the counter, labeled sauces in the fridge from Onigiri Miya, one lone sock that got lost in the journey from the dryer to his room) but they’re every part of him that you’ve learned to openly accept – just as he did when Atsumu had tricked him into opening his door for you. 

“I was only asking. Geez, no need to get so defensive.”

“I’m not defensive. I’m just–” You stumble over exactly what you feel. Hurt, yearning, abandoned, but none of those are really acceptable answers for when someone asks if you’re constipated. “Okay, whatever. I’m defensive.”

Dreadful silence slips back into the car. A radio host cuts in and out while reading a love confession a listener had sent in and you’re back gazing out the window, watching streaks of lights form lines in your vision.

You don’t know what Atsumu was hoping to get out of this car ride, but you can confidently say that his plan has failed. There is little hope to salvage yours and Osamu’s relationship when he hates you so much he can hardly even have a conversation with you, about plants and plugged up bowels no less. You think you’d have an easier exchange in the waiting room of a doctor’s office.

“I, uh,” Osamu reaches into the backseat, searching for his bag. A tongue slips out in concentration, darting to the right corner of his mouth as he tries to maintain his eyes on the road while searching for whatever it is he’s looking for.

“Do you–?

He cuts you off, “I got it. Hang on.”

You slump into your seat. Osamu doesn’t even notice.

“I had to pick up a delivery from Kita today since his truck’s out for repair and passed by ya favorite coffeeshop on the – here it is.” Osamu plucks a pastry bag, crinkled and poorly squished, and places it into your lap.  “Passed by the place on the way back. They didn’t have the peach tarts that ya like, but I saw an almond croissant. Ya like those too don’t ya?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your voice comes out in a whisper, overwhelmed by the gesture that you’re afraid if you speak too loudly, the illusion might break.

“There’s a surprise in there for ya. Open it.”

Osamu doesn’t even address the condition the pastry is in which you can’t help but smile at. Food, no matter what shape or form, has always been food for Osamu. When you open the bag, you find a keychain. It’s a lemon with a wry smile and two rosy cheeks. Underneath it says, sweet and sour in a cursive-esque font and pink colors. It’s cute adorable immediately makes you think of the pouty onigiri keychain that Osamu keeps on his ring next to his home key.

“It’s so cute! Were they giving these out for free?”

“What? No, I bought that for ya.” Osamu sounds offended and doesn't even hide it on his face.

“You bought this for me?”

“Yeah.”

“How come?”

He stumbles over his words. “I don’t know. I saw it and I thought of ya. Remember when ya asked me if ya were a fruit, what fruit would ya be?”

Your cheeks start to hurt from trying so hard to suppress the grin that wants to etch itself into your face. “Yeah?”

“And I said ya were a lemon because you’re sweet and sour or something stupid like that.”

A giggle breaches your lips that you gracefully accept. Osamu smiles too, biting his bottom lip as if trying so hard to suppress it.

“Yeah. And then I said you’re a peach because that ass always looks so juicy.”

The car continues creaking, the love confession continues fading, but you don’t notice – not over the sound of him laughing. 

Atsumu and Suna arrive no less than five minutes after you and Osamu. His irritation with Osamu’s appearance in his fitted, black button down is nonexistent with the sight of two whiskey sours in your hands. He eagerly begins double-fisting the drinks, drinking them in tandem. Warnings to calm down are brushed away at the fact that he hasn’t had a vacation and an opportunity to let loose in weeks. It doesn’t take long for Atsumu to get the party started, ordering shots for the table and saying that the next two rounds are on him.

That Adidas deal must be a really good one, you can’t help but think when you clink glasses with the group. Atsumu is already donning flushed cheeks and a candid grin with Suna and his sentimental smirk next to him. Turning to your left, the tender burn of alcohol slips down your chest. Osamu looks happy. Eyes closed and a shy smile, you quickly hide your face behind your napkin. If anyone at the table caught you staring like a love drunk (read: not alcoholic) fool, you’d never hear the end of it.

“I saw that.” Atsumu’s smarmy face is way too close to you that you can smell the scent of his car freshener: black ice. “Ya ain’t sneaky at all.”

“Get off me. What happened to personal space.”

“What’s he talking about?” Suna peers over and it looks like you’ve got Osamu’s attention too. Man, you forgot how wild Atsumu gets with alcohol in his system. He hardly has any inhibitions sober that intoxicated, he drops them completely and assumes everyone does so too. He knocks his forehead against your temple, purpose or not, you’re unsure.

“My shot,” You lift the glass up. A small amount of liquid splashes the sides when you wiggle the cup around and use your other hand to push Atsumu away. He’s adamant and dead weighting himself onto you. “I didn’t finish it and he’s calling me out on it.”

“Ya liar! That ain’t it.” Atsumu pokes your nose to the point it stings. You’re gritting your teeth at this point. Fed up with his pesky ways, you’re about to push him away when you see Osamu reach across the table and pull him off you so hard his heavy body nicks Suna’s shoulder.

“Will ya sit in your chair correctly?” Osamu snaps you a quick glance as if to check you’re okay then diverts his attention back to his twin. Jaw taut, you didn’t expect him to be so angry. “Ma taught ya better than that.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Atsumu pouts and the twins ensue their usual brotherly tiffs. Suna leans his palm in his hands, thoroughly entertained by his friends’ behavior while you can only be glad that the attention is no longer on you.

You decide you’ve had enough to drink after Atsumu’s second round of shots not even thirty minutes into being at the bar. The twins continue pouring, inadvertently celebrating each other’s presence (you know they’ll never admit it but there’s always been festivities when the two boys reunite) while you continue nursing your water. Even Suna had tapped out an hour ago and bought the table karaage and fries to help absorb the alcohol in their stomachs.

“I’m gonna say something that I don’t say enough,” Atsumu slurs with a shot glass in his hand, cutting the pleasant silence that befell the table. He points it at his brother, “Ya better listen.”

“I’m listening!” Osamu insists.

“I think about ya.” He pauses. “A lot. And sometimes I get mad at ya because I wish ya were there right next to me when I got my fourth service ace in a row or something. Sometimes I worry about ya, especially when your roommate over here—“ he nudges your shoulder with his, “—tells me that you’ve barely been home and you’ve been overworking yourself.”

“Snitch,” Osamu playfully interrupts, sticking his tongue out at you. You flip him off immediately.

“But most of the time,” Atsumu, who held his brother’s gaze, now glances down into his empty shot glass with a solemn smile. He shies away from the vulnerability even when his drunken thoughts pour through. “Most of the time, I miss ya. Ya crumbs in your bed and ya stupid scented body wash.

“But then I visit ya and — and when I see Onigiri Miya, I know ya made the right choice. And I don’t say it enough because I don’t want ya head to get too big—“

“You’re worried about his head getting too big?” Suna quips quickly, effortlessly amused.

“Shut up. What I was saying was, are ya listening?”

“I am!”

Although it’s huffed in annoyance, when you glance at Osamu, you’re in awe. He sits patiently in his chair, chest leaned forward and pressed against the varnished tabletop. Before you is a sight you never thought you’d see. Atsumu’s back is straight and proud while Osamu slinks forward respectably, almost innocently in semblance of a bow, hanging onto his brother’s every word. Their relationship might be confusing and sometimes they’re never outright with their affection, but right now, what you see before you are not twins, but an older brother and his younger.

“I’m proud of ya, alright?” The sentence comes out with too much effort but indubitably earnest. Atsumu, sober, wears his heart on his sleeve like an ironed patch. Atsumu, drunk, rips his heart from the fabric of his being and forces it onto you. He is so full of love that if he doesn’t share it, he’ll burst.

“Ain’t gonna say it again.”

“I heard ya!” Suna and you are far too engrossed in the interaction to even muster any comment.

The brothers hold each other’s gaze across the table until Osamu clears his chest. “Well yeah. I’m proud of ya too. Never expected anything less.”

Atsumu’s lips wobble, a choked out sound spurting past his lips as he tries his best to keep his emotions in. You doubt the alcohol makes it any easier.

“Okay, we’re done for the night.” Suna decides. He lifts Atsumu up, arm around his shoulder and pats the blonde on the back before turning to you. “I’ll take this twin home.”

“That means I’ve got this twin.” You say breezily only for Osamu to immediately stiffen in his chair.

Osamu’s back to being his grumpy, stubborn self. It’s like something switches inside him when the two of you are left alone. Suna lucked out with Atsumu being the easier to handle twin for once. You had to pull him away from a lamppost, adamant that he was okay to walk on his own before almost face planting on the floor. You’re handling Osamu like a leaning sack of rice, using your shoulder to push him into his truck and then quickly slamming the car door before he falls out. You can hear his head thump against the window as you lean over with your hands on your knees, gasping for breath. Goodness, Osamu is far above your PR weight you hardly recognize how you managed that.

“Are you feeling alright?” The ignition turns in time with Osamu’s head, acknowledging your query.

The muscles in his neck are too lax from the alcohol and his head falls into his chest, “Ain’t no bitch.”

He’s ridiculous. You cannot help but be amused. He groans when you use your hand to gingerly lift his head against the headrest while you keep your eyes on the road.

“Thanks for coming out with us, Osamu. I had fun.”

“Me too.”

“Of course you did. You just got confessed to tonight.”

A hum in his throat, he asks you to rephrase, not quite understanding what you mean.

“Atsumu professed his undying love to you, remember? I think Rin even recorded it.”

He gives a tired grumble of a laugh. You know it’s the genuine kind because he likes to soften its blow, keep it quiet and contained in his chest. It’s your favorite of all Osamu laughs, and when you pull them, your heart feels weightless in your chest like a hummingbird catching nectar. “That’s never been seen before footage, ya know? Ya better take care of it because it might be worth something.”

“I’ve got to show Kita though. He’d love to see you two getting along so well together.”

“Don’t do that.”

“But you looked so cute. I’ve never seen you so innocent and adorable. I wanted to pinch your cheeks!”

The tumble of your words, fueled by an amiable atmosphere that feels exactly like how it did before when you two would hang out, is immediately shattered.

“Shut up.” Osamu declares. He shifts in his seat to turn closer to the window, effectively blocking you out like he’s done for the past few weeks. You can only purse your lips and focus on the road. Dread leadens the blood in your veins, you feel like you could fall right through the seat at the heavy weight. The music that you turned down just so you could hear the sound of Osamu’s voice clearer is suddenly not loud enough to.

“I just mean– ya too honest, ya know?”

No, you don’t know. It’s that very fact that has made these past couple of weeks so difficult. What has changed? What did you do? Will he ever forgive you?

There is little in you to formulate a response to that. Tonight hadn’t gone without issue, but you thought that the easy conversation had been a sign for better weather between you too. You were wrong. Turning up the heater, you slow down and make a quick u-turn.

Osamu’s brakes are a little more sensitive than you're used to, lurching the car forward and waking up your passenger in the process as you park. You don’t look up from your lap as he gathers his surroundings.

“What are we doing here?” He asks, looking at his storefront in confusion. “This ain't home.”

“I didn’t know if you want to go back ho–” You clear your chest while your face heats over the mistake. “ – to the apartment since you barely sleep there. I didn’t want to assume.”

“So ya assumed I’d rather sleep on my work couch instead of my bed?” His words cut through your throat and it makes you stammer out the response.

“I– well, yeah. You’re barely at the apartment anymore.”

“It’s our home.”

At this point, you can hardly take Osamu’s contradicting nature. He’s unpredictable and unreasonable, and every slightest misstep has you overthinking everything. It’s exhausting and you just want this night to end.

“Do you want me to take you back there? Just tell me what you want, Osamu.”

“I want ya to say it.”

“Say what?”

The obstinate gleam in his eyes refuses to acknowledge your deflection. He enunciates the words even further. “Say it.”

“It’s an apartment, Osamu.” You sigh. His gaze is too much for you to handle so you settle on plucking fake dust from his cup holders. “It hasn’t felt like home in a while. Not since, I don’t know. Not since you started hating me.”

“Ya think I hate ya?”

You give a wry laugh. “Well, you haven’t been very discrete, Osamu. I barely see you anymore, and we used to hang out and watch movies but all you’ve been doing is avoiding me. You could have just been honest with me, you know that right? I have no idea what I did wrong, but I promise I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Uncomfortable silence settles into the conversation, weaving its way into your throat and puppeting your fingertips. You can’t stay still as one hand taps your thigh as the other traces patterns in his cupholder. There it is, all out in the open. Now Osamu can finally be honest with you and tell you how he really feels.

He breathes out something a mix of a scoff and a laugh, your lesser favorite of laughs. “You’re an idiot.”

“Sure,” You shrug, “but that’s nothing you should hate me for.”

“I definitely hate ya. Hate how much I think about ya.” Osamu stares you dead in the eye with an unbreaking contact that shouldn’t be possible for how drunk he is. Your heart trembles like a pin balancing on a marble’s edge. “And how since ya moved in, our house has a thing called cup cozies. Ya don’t even know how much Suna roasted me when he came over one time.”

“Sometimes your drink–”

“ –gets a little too hot. I know. I told him. He doesn’t care. But I do. And I hate it. Hate how ya make my coffee for me every morning. How do ya make it better for me than I can? How do ya know what I like better than me? And when Atsumu decided for me that ya were moving in, and I asked him what the fuck he was talking about, he told me I shouldn’t worry because I’ll barely notice ya.

“And I hate how he’s such a fucking liar because you’re all I can think about. And when I feel like I’ve distracted myself enough, I’ll hear a customer accidentally drop their chopsticks and I’m suddenly thinking about the time ya hit your head on the table when ya tried catching them.

“Everything leads back to ya. All I wanna do is think about ya. My eyes look for ya, my hand does too. And whenever I’m closing down the restaurant, all I’m thinking about is going home to ya. And then you’re there, ya say welcome home, and I hate the fact that all I wanna do is kiss ya.”

The ferocity of Osamu’s words has drawn you closer. You can feel the huff of his rapid breath falling over your face like a tsunami. Right now is the longest he’s held your gaze, and you hope he never finds a reason to look away. Has this been how he’s felt this whole time?

“Kiss ya right there,” He whispers the sentence softly, containing it in his chest just like that favorite laugh of yours, “and tell ya I’m home.”

“You’re talking nonsense.” The reasonable part of you wants to silence the eager beating of your heart. It’s too good to be true. You’ve spent nights unwillingly dreaming confessions of this, that there is no way this sort of reality exists. “You’re so drunk right now.”

Osamu’s eyes fall onto your lips. He looks at them, vexed and hungry before he sighs and slumps his head onto your shoulder.

“Yeah, hate that too. Can’t believe I spent all this time struggling with how I feel and this is how I confess to ya. Now it don’t sound sincere.”

“Atsumu was pretty drunk earlier but he sounded sincere.” A tug in your chest pulls your hands to his arms, rubbing them up and down just the way Osamu does for you after a horrible day. “You seemed convinced.”

He gives a small chuckle just to appease you. “Guess so.” He pauses for a moment before going on. “It was the couch, ya know? We had dinner pretty late but ya weren’t tired so we watched that zombie movie. Next thing I knew, the birds were chirping and the sun was a little too bright, and then I realized I woke up with ya in my arms. All I could think was, oh fuck.” 

The giggle that escapes from you is hard to hide.

“You’re the worst. I knew I was done for after that.”

“Let’s go home, Osamu.”

Post confession Osamu is much easier to handle than pre. He keenly braces an arm around your shoulder, yours around his waist as the other presses against his belly. Going up the steps to your apartment is a little trickier than just walking thanks to the height difference and there’s a burned out bulb right at the bottom of the stairs. It’s so difficult to see that Osamu trips over the first step. He falls onto you as you do your best holding the both of you up so you don’t slip to the ground.

“Geez, Osamu.” You grunt your way up to your apartment. “You’re so heavy.”

He whines childishly and decides to lean even more weight on you. “Ya never complained when Tsumu had his arm around your shoulder. And he had it there for most of the night.”

“Jealous?”

“Ya don’t even know.”

You have to turn your head away at that, desperately trying to hide the enthusiastic smile trying to creep in. It is hard to decide which one is easier to handle: the Osamu who avoids you and his feelings or the honest one that’s a little too charming when earnest.

“Ease up a little then,” You knock your shoulder into his rib, forcing to put more of his weight on his own legs than yours. “Atsumu wasn’t putting his whole body weight on me.”

“Can’t. Ya feel so comfortable.”

You roll your eyes and basically drag him up the stairs. There’s a piece of you wondering if any of this bit is being dramatized. By the time you make it to the entrance of your apartment, you’re catching your breath. The key unlocks your door and finally, the sweet scent of home, a mild mix of Osamu and you, hits your nose. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to enter your apartment with relief, but walking through with Osamu by your side loosens the muscles you’ve exerted.

“Welcome home, Osamu.” Demure, you murmur shyly.

He stiffens only for a moment before he wraps you closer to his side, pressing a kiss to your temple. He whispers, “I’m home.”

Osamu's upper body is sprawled against the top of the kotatsu with his neck turned at a hard ninety degree angle. He must have fallen asleep when you left him to make a batch of tea before sleep. 

“Osamu,” your hand digs into the meat of his shoulder as you try to tap him back into consciousness. “You need to go to bed.”

He groans softly, digging the corner of his lip against his knuckles to catch any stray saliva that may have fallen from his mouth. His head, albeit droopily, finally turns to you.

For a moment there, he thought he had been dreaming, but it was all real. He confessed to you and you might not have said anything explicitly back, but Osamu knows he didn’t imagine the way your gaze held his lips, the phantom touch parting them open. There’s a decadence in your voice that hadn’t been there all night and you don’t shy away from his touch. More, he wants more so much so he can’t help it.

“Don’t suppose you’d say yes if I asked ya to come with me, huh?”

There's a moment of pause before you let out a heavy sigh. Osamu looks away, gathering his attention on the curtains to your balcony over the weary look you’re probably donning. He told you he hated the drapes when you brought them home. Weeping blue florals over a sheer, white background, he’d never owned such a thing in his bachelor pad. You had laughed away his comment in jest, jabbing back with a dumb quip about he shouldn’t worry. The drapes hate him too. He’d always liked that about you. Everything slipped into place - easy. 

“I don't think that’s a good idea with how drunk you are.”

“I know.”

It’s silent for a while, neither of you knowing what to say, but finally being home, here with you, he feels content. Rather than feeling tension, or upset because you won’t entertain his bad intentions, all he can say is he’s happy. It falls more simply into his chest than he expected. It kind of makes him feel stupid. He’d spent days agonizing over the thought of you and how he shouldn’t be thinking about you at all. Guilt tripping himself in more ways than one, Osamu spent too much time running away from feelings when in reality, it had already planted itself into his chest. Flowing with the wave has always been easier than fighting against it, right?

“I'll stay here then.”

“Osamu,” You begin to admonish with an exasperated breath. “That won’t be comfortable. You’ll get a kink in your neck.”

Your roommate ignores you. He takes a large breath and exhales, molding himself along the tabletop and into his arms. Slowly, in shy movements, his right hand reaches across the table, searches for you but stops short when it brushes your fingertips. Warm. Foreign.

At that connection you’ve been trying to reach, curiosity gets the best of you. Before you can even acknowledge the thought, you’re tracing over his nails, absolutely infatuated by the feel of his skin against yours. Osamu has always been magnetic, pulling you in despite the simplest of movements. He never has to beckon you over. A simple smile will do, or a plate of carefully prepared dishes can have you turning off the TV and providing him your undivided attention.

Osamu was on the cusp of sleep at one point, but now he can’t rest with the hammering of his heart. You play with the edge of his hand in tentative steps. He flips a thought over in his head, roasting it like a suckling pig, until the anticipation is no longer something he can bear.

Starting with an index finger, he lifts it up and catches the space between your digits. The rest of his hand follows until yours is loosely twined with his - the hand that knocked on his door, the hand that has always welcomed him home, and the hand that passes him an extra bowl of rice when he finishes the first. It is now held in his - you holding him and him holding you.

The power you have in simple, fleeting touches are the reason why he ran away. Having ventured into the unknown by opening Onigiri Miya, he thought he was an expert on the idea of risk and reward. Though he doesn’t want to say you’re not worth it, he thinks of you far too precious.

What you have now works and if he tried to pursue anything further, and you didn’t reciprocate, he’d lose more than he’d be willing to give. But now that it is in his grasp, he has no idea how he could ever let this go. It might not be firm enough to his liking, but this feeling of comfort puts him at ease. He can be patient with what you give and when he wakes up tomorrow, sober, he knows what choices he’ll make.

The beating of his heart descends into metronomic hum like the sound of a running fridge.

“I’ll be comfortable wherever ya are.” Osamu pushes further and presses the palms of your hands together. He lifts his head slightly to catch your reaction, finding you looking at where you two are connected with an affectionate smile. His heart thrums again at the sight, quietly cursing it for being so reactive to your existence. “That’s okay, right? Ya’ll stay with me?”

“You won’t run away again?” The teasing lilt in your voice causes no harm.

“No,” Osamu confirms. “Wherever ya are.”

He closes his eyes, ready to dream. “That’s where I wanna be.”

“Me too.”

#reina.writeshaikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #miya osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff #haikyuu longfic #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu oneshot

[minarixx]

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐫 ✯ 𝐎.𝐌𝐢𝐲𝐚

"𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙'𝙫𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙄'𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚. 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙢𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚"

PAIRING. Miya Osamu x f!Reader

CONTENT. Angst, unrequited love, rebound relationship

Osamu and Y/N, both recovering from serious breakups, find solace in a casual fling. Yet, emotions soon diverge. Osamu yearns for something deeper, while Y/N hesitates to leave the pain behind

WC. 4.0k

A/N. My one shots are getting longer and I hope my writing is better lol. This one isn't really a sad ending its like bittersweet, its sad for Osamu but alright for reader. Was going to write a smut for this I was going to continue it as something longer but wtv. Reader is a red flag in this but so is Osamu. Makes more sense if you watched 500 days of summer.

Ib: 500 days of summer

Not edited

Masterlink - Songs Unwritten

The night was alive with the flickering neon lights of the city as Y/N found herself at a dimly lit bar, trying to escape the suffocating weight of her broken engagement. She nursed a cocktail, her fingers tracing the edge of the glass absently. She needed a distraction, something to numb the pain and fill the void.

Across the bar, a man caught her eye. He looked familiar, like someone she had seen in passing but never really noticed. His grey hair was casually tousled, and he had an air of quiet confidence about him. As if feeling her gaze, he turned and their eyes locked for a moment before he smiled, beckoning her over with a slight nod.

Curiosity mingled with her vulnerability, and Y/N found herself drawn to him. She approached cautiously, unsure of what this encounter might lead to.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

"Sure," Y/N replied, attempting to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil inside her.

"I'm Osamu," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

"Y/N," she responded, shaking his hand.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, as if they had known each other for years. Osamu had a calming presence, and Y/N felt her worries fading away as laughter filled the air. They shared stories about their lives, their past relationships, and their dreams for the future.

"I got out of a long-term relationship not too long ago," Osamu admitted, his eyes searching Y/N's for a reaction.

She nodded understandingly, finding comfort in the fact that he could relate to her current situation. "I just ended my engagement," she confessed, feeling a knot forming in her stomach as the words left her lips.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Osamu said, genuine empathy in his voice. "Sometimes, life takes unexpected turns, and we find ourselves on paths we never imagined."

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to push away the pain. "Yeah, that's true."

As the night wore on, their connection grew stronger, and they found themselves lost in each other's company. Eventually, Osamu leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against her ear as he whispered, "What if we become each other's rebound? Just for tonight, to forget the past and enjoy the moment?"

The proposition hung in the air, tempting and dangerous all at once. Y/N knew it was a risky move, but she couldn't deny the allure of escaping into a temporary fling with a man who seemed to understand her pain.

Part of her wanted to say no, to take the safe path and avoid more heartache. But another part of her, a part clouded by grief and longing, yearned for the connection that Osamu offered.

As Y/N stood outside the bar, her heart was torn between caution and desire. She knew the risks involved in getting into a rebound with Osamu, the handsome stranger who seemed to be the perfect escape from her shattered engagement. The logical part of her mind screamed warnings, reminding her of the inevitable heartbreak that would follow. But her emotions were in turmoil, craving a distraction from the pain that seemed to engulf her.

She had been through so much in the past few days, and the idea of being wanted, even if only for a fleeting moment, was like a lifeline. Osamu's presence felt like a temporary respite, a reprieve from the reality of her failed relationship. The allure of forgetting her troubles, at least for a night, pulled her towards him like a magnetic force.

But somewhere deep within her, a voice whispered, urging her to be cautious, to protect her already fragile heart. She had seen friends fall into rebounds before, and the aftermath was never pretty. It was like pouring salt into an open wound, exacerbating the pain she was trying so desperately to numb.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she weighed the consequences. She knew that getting into Osamu's car would be like stepping into the unknown, willingly subjecting herself to an emotional rollercoaster with no guarantee of a happy ending. But at that moment, it felt like the only way to escape her reality.

Her thoughts swirled like a tempest, and she battled the conflicting emotions raging within her. "What am I doing?" she asked herself silently. She knew that deep down, she deserved more than just a rebound, more than being a fleeting distraction in someone else's life. But her heart ached for connection, for warmth, for the feeling of being desired and cared for.

In that moment, Y/N made a decision, one that she knew might lead to heartbreak but was also a desperate attempt to find a moment of solace amidst the chaos. She stepped forward, walking towards Osamu, who awaited her with a gentle smile. "Let's do it," she said, her voice betraying both trepidation and determination.

Osamu's face lit up with a mix of surprise and excitement, but he respected the vulnerability in her eyes. "Are you sure?" he asked, giving her one last chance to back out.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the safe haven of the bar. But then, she met Osamu's gaze, and something in his eyes reassured her. He had his own share of scars, and maybe they could find solace in each other, however temporary it might be.

"Yes," she said finally, taking his hand and letting him lead her to his car.

A crooked smile appeared on Osamu's face, and he took her hand, leading her out of the bar. They walked to a nearby parking lot, where his car was parked. The city lights danced on the sleek black exterior as he opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that felt strangely intimate.

As they drove through the city streets, the reality of her decision sank in, and Y/N's heart fluttered with a mix of anticipation and fear. She knew this would be a bittersweet journey, one that she would remember for a lifetime. But right now, she just wanted to lose herself in the moment, to forget about the pain and uncertainty that loomed ahead.

"You know, Osamu," she began, feeling a mix of nerves and determination. "I want to be upfront with you. I just got out of an engagement, and I'm not looking for anything serious right now."

Osamu's expression softened, placing his hand on hers. "I understand," he said gently. "I'm not looking to rush into anything either. Let's just take things as they come, no pressure."

Relief washed over Y/N as she realized that Osamu was on the same page. She didn't want to close herself off to the possibility of connection, but she needed time to heal and find herself again.

The night was a blur of laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances, all tinged with the knowledge that this was temporary. They leaned into each other's touch, their lips meeting in the dark, searching for a connection that would fill the void in their hearts.

Over the next few weeks, they fell into an easy rhythm, enjoying each other's company without the burden of expectations. Y/N felt herself opening up to Osamu, sharing pieces of herself that she had kept hidden for years. But she couldn't help but notice that he sometimes withdrew, his eyes clouded with memories of his past relationship.

As the days turned into weeks, Osamu found himself growing more attached to Y/N. He couldn't help but be drawn to her warmth and vulnerability, which reminded him of his ex-girlfriend. His past relationship had left a profound impact on him, and he carried the weight of his codependence and idealization into this new connection.

In his mind, Osamu began to create a fantasy about their future together. He imagined them as a perfect couple, deeply in love and sharing a life filled with joy and happiness. But he didn't realize that he was projecting his own desires onto Y/N, assuming that she would eventually change her mind and want the same things.

Even though Y/N had been upfront about not wanting anything serious, Osamu convinced himself that she would eventually see how wonderful they could be together. He believed that if he showed her enough love and commitment, she would want to be in a serious relationship with him.

But the more he pushed his expectations onto Y/N, the more he felt the strain of the situation. He knew that he was putting pressure on her, and that it wasn't fair to either of them. He tried to suppress his anxieties, but his whole mental state became centered around the idea of being with her, and he couldn't help but feel a constant sense of unease.

Y/N, on the other hand, was trying her best to be understanding and patient with Osamu. But she also knew that she couldn't give him what he wanted, and she felt guilty for not being able to reciprocate his feelings fully.

Their once easy companionship began to feel strained as Osamu's expectations weighed heavily on their interactions. He would bring up the future they could have together, and while Y/N appreciated his affection, she also felt overwhelmed by the pressure.

Y/N had always been fiercely independent and never one to shy away from her desires. After the whirlwind of her last serious relationship, she made a vow to herself that she would focus on her own growth and happiness. She didn't want anything serious, at least not for now.

When Y/N met Osamu, she was immediately drawn to his warmth and charm. He was caring and attentive, and she enjoyed the easy companionship they shared. But as their connection deepened, she could sense that Osamu wanted something more than what she was ready to give.

Their dates were filled with laughter and affection, but Y/N kept a part of herself guarded, afraid of letting anyone too close. She had built walls around her heart, shielding it from the pain she had experienced before. And even though Osamu tried to chip away at those walls with every sweet gesture and kind word, she couldn't bring herself to fully let go.

Osamu, on the other hand, was eager to find someone to share his life with again. He had gone through his own heartbreak in the past, but he believed that Y/N was different, worth the risk of vulnerability. He saw potential in their relationship, and it scared him how much he cared for her, knowing that she might not be willing to meet him at the same emotional level.

One evening, as they strolled along the beach under a sky painted with stars, Osamu gently broached the subject that had been tugging at his heart for some time. "Y/N, I want to be honest with you. I'm falling for you, and I want something serious, something real. But I sense that you might not be in the same place right now."

Y/N's heart sank, knowing that he was right. She cared for Osamu deeply, but she was emotionally unavailable, unable to give him what he deserved. She looked down at the sand beneath her feet, unsure of how to respond without hurting him.

"I appreciate your honesty, Osamu," she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "You mean a lot to me, and I enjoy being with you. But I'm not ready for anything serious. I hope you understand."

The air around them felt heavy with tension as Y/N and Osamu sat facing each other. Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, knowing that what she was about to say might hurt Osamu even more.

"I never wanted anything serious," she began, her voice soft but firm. "From the beginning, I was clear about it. I didn't want to jump into a committed relationship."

Osamu's face contorted with confusion and frustration. "But you gave me mixed signals," he protested. "You acted like you cared about me, like we had something special."

Y/N nodded, understanding his confusion but needing to clarify her position. "I do care about you, Osamu. You're a wonderful person, and I enjoyed our time together. But I thought we were on the same page – having fun, enjoying each other's company without any pressure for a serious commitment."

Osamu shook his head, feeling a knot forming in his stomach. "I thought I could handle that at first, but the more time we spent together, the more I realized I wanted more. I wanted us to be exclusive, to build something real."

"I'm sorry," Y/N said, her voice tinged with regret. "I should have been clearer about my intentions from the start. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Osamu ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his gestures. "I just don't understand why you wouldn't want something more with me. We have a great connection, and I care about you so much."

"I care about you too," Y/N replied sincerely. "But I'm just not in the right place for a serious relationship right now. I need time to focus on myself, to heal from my past, and to figure out what I truly want."

Osamu's eyes bore into hers, searching for answers that she couldn't give. "So, what? You never saw a future with us?"

Y/N hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I never said that. I just couldn't see it at this point in my life. And I didn't want to lead you on or make promises I couldn't keep."

Osamu leaned back, his frustration giving way to a sense of resignation. "I guess I just hoped you would change your mind, that we could work through it together."

Y/N reached out and placed a gentle hand on his. "Osamu, I understand that this is difficult for you, and I'm truly sorry for any pain I've caused. But I can't change how I feel or what I'm ready for."

He sighed, pulling his hand away. "I thought I could convince you, that if I showed you how much I cared, you'd want to be with me too."

"It's not about convincing," Y/N said softly. "Feelings aren't something you can negotiate or persuade. They're either there or they're not."

Osamu looked down at the floor, trying to process her words. "I guess I just thought that if we had something good, it would naturally lead to more."

Y/N nodded, understanding his perspective. "But sometimes, two people can be great together and still not want the same things."

A heavy silence settled between them, filled with the weight of unspoken emotions. Y/N knew that she had to stand her ground, even if it hurt both of them. She couldn't compromise her own emotional well-being to appease someone else's desires.

"I think it's best if we take some space," Osamu finally said, his voice tinged with sadness. "I need time to process all of this."

Y/N nodded in agreement, knowing that it was the right decision. "I understand. Take all the time you need."

As they parted ways that day, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow. She never wanted to hurt Osamu, but she also knew that she couldn't force herself into something she wasn't ready for.

The air between Y/N and Osamu felt heavy with unspoken emotions as they sat in the dimly lit café. The tension between them had been building for weeks, and it was now impossible to ignore. Their once vibrant connection had started to fade, replaced by arguments and emotional discussions that seemed to lead nowhere.

Osamu struggled to make sense of Y/N's mixed signals and her reluctance to commit. He felt distant from her, as if the person he had grown close to was slipping through his fingers. He loved her deeply, but her refusal to define their relationship left him feeling lost and confused.

As the café chatter buzzed around them, Y/N finally spoke up, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Osamu, I care about you, but I can't give you what you want. I'm not ready for a serious commitment, and I don't see a future for us beyond what we have now."

His heart sank, and he felt a lump forming in his throat. He had hoped that Y/N would eventually change her mind, that she would see how much they could have together. But now, reality crashed down on him like a tidal wave.

"Why? Why can't you give us a chance?" he asked, trying to keep the hurt from his voice.

Y/N looked down at the table, her gaze avoiding his. "It's not that I don't care about you, Osamu. But I need time to figure things out for myself. I don't want to rush into something I'm not ready for, and I can't promise you something I can't deliver."

Osamu struggled to hold back tears, feeling a mix of frustration and heartbreak. "I just don't understand," he whispered. "We have something special, don't we?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Yes, we do. But that doesn't mean I can give you what you want. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't change how I feel."

As the days passed, the strain on their relationship became unbearable. They tried to salvage what they had, but it was clear that they wanted different things. Arguments and emotional discussions became a recurring pattern, leaving both of them feeling drained and distant.

Osamu couldn't help but cling to the idealized version of Y/N that he had created in his mind. He believed that if he just held on a little longer, she would see how perfect they could be together. But deep down, he knew that he was holding onto an illusion that didn't match the reality of their situation.

One evening, after another emotional argument, Osamu finally mustered the courage to face the truth. He realized that he couldn't force Y/N to love him the way he loved her. He deserved someone who reciprocated his feelings fully, someone who wanted the same things he did.

With a heavy heart, Osamu met Y/N one last time to end things. He felt a mix of sadness and relief, knowing that it was the right decision, even if it broke his heart.

"I love you, Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "But I can't keep holding onto something that isn't there. I need to let go and find someone who wants the same things as I do."

Y/N's eyes filled with tears, and she reached out to hold his hand. "I'm so sorry, Osamu," she whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Osamu nodded, trying to hold back his own tears. "I know. And I don't blame you. We both deserve to find happiness, even if it's not with each other."

Despite the pain, Y/N and Osamu decided to stay apart for some time, giving each other the space they needed to heal and grow. But as days turned into weeks, Y/N found herself seeking him out again and again, unable to resist the familiar comfort and affection they once shared.

Each time, they would come together, seeking solace in the moment. But as the sun rose, Y/N would pull away once more, reminding herself of her own emotional unavailability. It was a cycle of comfort and heartbreak that seemed to repeat endlessly.

Osamu, too, struggled to resist the pull of their connection. He understood that he needed to move on, but he couldn't help but hold onto hope that one day, Y/N would change her mind.

The weight of the situation had become unbearable for Y/N. She couldn't continue the cycle of comfort and heartbreak any longer. She knew that for both their sakes, it was time to confront the reality of their situation and put an end to the uncertainty.

One evening, as they sat together in a quiet park, the words she had been holding back for so long finally surfaced. The air was heavy with the weight of their unspoken emotions, and Y/N took a deep breath before speaking.

"Osamu, we need to talk," she began, her voice steady but tinged with sadness.

He looked at her, his eyes searching for answers he feared he already knew. "What is it, Y/N?" he asked, his heart sinking.

"I can't do this anymore," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "I can't keep going back and forth, giving you hope when I know deep down that I can't give you what you want."

"I can't bear the thought of losing you," Osamu pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know it's complicated, but can't we at least try to make this work? I'm willing to wait, to give you all the time you need."

Y/N's heart ached at the desperation in his eyes, but she knew she had to stay true to herself. She couldn't keep giving him false hope or pretend that a real relationship would ever be possible.

"Osamu, I care about you deeply," she said gently, her voice trembling with sadness. "But I've been honest from the beginning. I don't want anything serious, and I don't see a future for us beyond what we have now."

He looked down, unable to hide the pain in his eyes. "So, that's it then? We just go back to being friends like nothing happened?"

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she reached out to touch his hand, offering him a small, sad smile. "You're still special to me, no matter what," she said softly. "But I can't give you what you want, and I won't keep stringing you along."

Osamu's heart felt like it was being ripped apart. He had hoped against hope that she would change her mind, that she would see how much they could have together. But now, he felt like he had hit a dead-end.

"I don't know if I can do this," he admitted, his voice filled with defeat. "It hurts too much to be just friends."

Y/N nodded, her own heart breaking for him. "I understand," she whispered. "I won't force you to stay, but I hope you know that I'll always cherish the time we spent together."

He looked up at her, his eyes searching for answers that he knew she couldn't give. "I just don't know how to let go," he said, his voice trembling with raw emotion.

Y/N's heart ached at the pain in his voice, and she wished she could take away his suffering. But she also knew that she couldn't be the one to fix him or to give him what he needed.

"You're still my best friend," she said gently, her voice filled with compassion.

With a heavy heart, Osamu finally mustered the strength to get up and leave. Y/N watched him walk away, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. She knew that she had made the right decision, painful as it was.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the city, Y/N and Osamu exchanged one last heartfelt smile. Their paths had diverged, leading them to different destinations in life, but the bittersweet beauty of their shared memories lingered in the air, a reminder of a connection that had once been, and the unspoken "what ifs" that danced in the fading light.

©Minarixx 2023 - please don't copy, repost or translate without my knowledge credit or permission.

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu x reader #hq oneshot #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu x self insert #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #osamu angst

[cnnmairoll]

Shy Kiss Assurance

Pairing : Osamu Miya x Reader

a/n : a little something for my beta reader @mitsouya my first time writing for samu and kissing fics in general so I hope this is okay :pray:

The warm afternoon sun gently bathed the cozy living room, casting a golden hue on the plush couch where you and Osamu sat side by side. The faint scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air as the two of you enjoyed a rare moment of tranquility. Though you had been dating for a while now, your relationship with Osamu was still in its early stages, blossoming with every passing day.

However, there was one thing that had been weighing on your mind lately. Your innate shyness prevented you from taking the initiative when it came to physical affection, especially kissing. You cherished every stolen glance, every secret touch of hands, but your heart raced at the mere thought of leaning in to kiss Osamu.

Sensing your inner turmoil, Osamu glanced over at you, his gentle eyes filled with affection. He could sense your hesitation, your reluctance to bridge that final gap between you both. With a soft smile, he reached out and caressed your cheek.

"Hey, Samu," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Osamu's thumb traced delicate patterns against your skin, his touch soothing your nerves. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath, summoning your courage. "Well, Samu... I've been thinking about something lately. It's just that... I really want to kiss you, but I don't know how to ask or initiate it."

A flicker of understanding crossed Osamu's eyes, and a mischievous smile played at the corners of his lips. "Is that so?" he replied, his voice filled with warmth and amusement. "You know, (Y/N), I've been picking up on some subtle hints."

Your eyes widened, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Hints?"

He nodded, his gaze fixed on you. "Oh, yes. The way you steal glances at my lips when I'm talking, the slight hesitation in your touch whenever we get close... It hasn't gone unnoticed, my love."

Embarrassment and relief washed over you simultaneously. You had thought your attempts at dropping hints were subtle, but it seemed that Osamu had been more perceptive than you had imagined. You found solace in knowing that he understood your unspoken desires.

Osamu scooted closer to you, his hand gently intertwining with yours. "You don't have to worry, (Y/N). Remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it. I'm here, waiting, and more than willing to share those kisses with you."

A shy smile graced your lips, your heart fluttering at his reassuring words. His encouragement gave you the push you needed to overcome your shyness. Inching closer, you closed the distance between you, your eyes locked with his.

Osamu's breath hitched as he saw the determination in your eyes. You leaned in slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. Your lips brushed against his, tentative and gentle. It was a tender kiss, filled with unspoken emotions, as if your lips were silently whispering all the words your shy heart couldn't express.

As the kiss deepened, Osamu wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. It was a beautiful harmony of longing and love, a testament to the unbreakable bond you shared. Time seemed to stand still, and in that moment, the world was filled with nothing but the warmth of your connection.

When you finally pulled away, breathless but with newfound confidence, Osamu's eyes sparkled with adoration. "See, (Y/N)? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased, his voice filled with affection.

"remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it"

#˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ mai writes #osamu #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu oneshot

[luvsunarin]

[ miya twins x fem!reader ] ෴ IN WHICH⠀the miya twins go to your diner every week for you.

warnings・none

wc・2.8k

part one || part two [on it's way!]

the miya twins usually didn't have the same taste in girls, but when they met you. holy shit, you were like a prize at a carnival, that they had to get.

they had met you through kita, who was actually your brother.

sometimes they'd see you at their practice waiting for him, and afterwards you two would drive home together, and they'd see you and him talk a bunch at school. at that point, the twins had already had a crush on you but everytime they saw you with kita, they'd assume you were his girlfriend so avoided making a move on you.

one day, they were over at his house trying to work on homework together with the rest of the team, and once you came out to the kitchen to go grab a water bottle, the twin's heads snapped to you and their jaw absolutely dropped.

he paused his work and looked up at you, "alright, do you want me to take you?" he asked, scrunching his eyebrow.

"nah, it's all good. i'll just take the bus, thank you though." you replied offering a smile again.

"okay then, stay safe and be careful dumbass." he let out a sigh.

"of course, love you." you called out before grabbing your jacket that was by the door already.

he hummed, "love you too, have a nice shift." he said, as you headed out the door, and walked to the nearby bus stop.

kita pretended like nothing happened, and continued the study session. the miya twins looked at him absolutely astonished. "woah woah, okay hold on," atsumu spoke up, scrunching his eyebrows.

"what?" kita looked at him, annoyed that he interrupted what he was saying about their math homework.

"kita, was that your girlfriend?" atsumu asked. "'cause shit, you never told us you had a girl-"

kita cut him off, "oh fuck no. you peice of shit, that's my fucking sister."

atsumu and osamu looked at him dumbfounded, "she's your sister?" they said simultaneously.

kita's facial expression screamed 'stab my in the throat right now' as he looked at the twins as if they were the stupidest people alive. "yes? she's my sister, what about it?"

"ya had a sister?" atsumu repeated, as if kita hadn't repeated twice that y/n was his sister.

"oh my god, piss head no shit he does." suna rolled his eyes, "he's said it twice now."

ever since then, after practice, they would try talking to you, shoving each other as they walk towards you so that the other could get there first.

over time, you formed a tight friendship with the twins.

osamu would subtly flirt with you, meanwhile atsumu would just straight up flirt with you, dropping cheesy pickup lines when he greets you.

they would always ask for your work schedule so that they could visit you at the small diner that you work at. every now and then, bringing the entire team along. even your brother.

you usually worked the night shift, which you didn't mind at all. they would regularly pick you up, after their visit.

you were at work, bored as you stood behind the counter. the diner you worked at looked like a vintage diner, with a checkered floor, red seats with white tables, an island in the center of the diner where people ate, as well as where people ordered and payed.

you layed your hand on your cheek, awaiting for the bell on the door to ding, and waiting for two certain yellow and grey haired twins walking through the doors to keep you entertained.

you weren't a big fan of coffee, but you were on the verge of falling asleep. you weren't able to take your daily nap since your homework had kept you occupied.

as a coffee alternative, you grabbed a water cup and made your way over to drink dispenser, getting yourself a cup of ice. just ice, no drink. you figured you could just chew on ice as you waited for their arrival.

you waiting finally came to an end when you heard the bell ding, and you shot your head up just for your eyes to be met with theirs. "miya's!" you exclaimed, excited to see them. "'bout time!"

they chuckled, walking up to the register, "hi, y/n. busy night for ya isn't it?" osamu said sarcastically, as there was no one in the diner besides an elderly couple in one booth, and a drunk man in another booth.

"hey pretty, been waiting for us?" atsumu asked, that same flirtatious glint in his eyes, which were also laced with tiredness at the moment.

"so busy, 'samu. place is packed." you rolled your eyes. "and hey 'tsumu." you smiled, turning your head to the other twin.

"hiya y/n." he gleamed, "why are ya always workin' the night shift?" he asked out of curiosity.

"i dunno, 'sumu. ask my manager." you said jokingly. "glad you two come here whenever i have a late shift." you chuckled.

"ya should be, n/n." atsumu agreed, osamu nodding along, "or else ya probably woulda died of boredom." osamu joked.

you rolled your eyes, usually you would've replied with 'as if', except he was correct at this moment. you were literally chewing on ice to keep you awake.

"man, you're honestly right. i'm chewing on literal ice right now to keep me awake." you sighed, putting the cup up to your mouth as an ice cube fell into your mouth.

osamu shook his head, "why not just drink coffee?"

"not a fan, i don't prefer it." you stated. "i personally do not get why people like it so much. honestly, when i say i don't like coffee i'm saying that i don't like coffee coffee, not cafe coffee, ya know what i mean?" you trailed off, trying to explain your half hatred for coffee.

"so, ya like coffee but ya don't like coffee. is that right?" atsumu shortened what you had just rambled about for better understanding for his brain.

you snickered, "why? was my simple explanation to complicated for your pea brain, 'sumu?"

atsumu had yet another puzzled look on his face, turning his head to his brother to see if he understood. "was her easy explanation to hard for ya pea brain?" osamu repeated your words, rolling his eyes.

"jeez, atsu, maybe you're the one who needs a cup of ice. or coffee. or a slice of lemon." you looked at the yellow haired man, with amused eyes.

"shut up, n/n. it's literally 10:26 PM right now," atsumu declared, "ya know if i weren't here, i'd be knocked out on my bed right now in a nice sleep."

you looked at the dim-witted blonde, then a small glance to his twin brother, before looking back at him. "maybe you could knock out on one of those booths over there, they're quite comfortable." you suggested. "with you asleep, i'll have 'samu to keep me entertained so rest if you need." you offered.

although he took you sarcastically, you were being dead ass. he laughed it off before noticing the serious look on your face. "well, that's rude of me, you're the one we came here for. you're the one workin' the night shift." he made a point but you sighed.

you hummed, "whatever you want 'sumu." you shrugged, "you guys wanna order anything?"

"oooh! i want a milkshake. and fries." atsumu said, as if his tiredness had went away.

"alriiight." you dragged the 'i'. you turned to osamu, "you want anythin' 'samu?"

"do ya have tea?" he asked you. you nodded at him in response. atsumu chortled, "are ya british now, osamu?" he joked, making you stifle your laugh.

"shut up piss hair." osamu rolled his eyes, as he gave you money.

"don't worry, it's on the house." you didn't accept the money, and osamu sighed.

"well, take it as a tip then." osamu said, putting it in the tip jar next to the register.

you sighed, "thank you, osamu." you gently smiled, and he thanked the dim purple and yellow lights in the diner or else you'd be able to see the blush on his cheeks. atsumu threw him a glare. "i'll get you two your stuff right now, give me a moment."

at first there was silence as they took a seat on one of the red cushioned stools on the island. "so, how's ya shift been so far?" atsumu asked, sparking a conversation to keep himself from falling asleep, as him and osamu watched you make their orders. you had osamu's tea brewing, while you simply made atsumu's milkshake, and prepared atsumu's french fries.

once you were finished, you gave it to the twins who thanked you. "y/n, ya ever tried dipping fries into the milkshake?" atsumu furrowed his eyebrows.

"'course! i mean, who fuckin' hasn't?" you said amused. "it's good shit, 'tsumu."

"damn right it is," atsumu agreed with you as he took a fry and dipped it in his milkshake. it's like a milkshake was all it took to take his tiredness away.

"is a milkshake some sort of energy booster for you?" you raised your eyebrow at the blonde man in front of you as you sighed.

he chuckled, "nah, talking to ya gave me energy." his shitty pickup lines always made you roll your eyes as he smirked at you.

"you're irritating," you shook your head. atsumu pretended to look hurt, putting a hand to his heart, "wow, i'm truly, deeply, hurt n/n. can't believe ya said that."

you looked at him with delight. "ya don't believe it cause she never said that." osamu attempted to mess with his brother, "your brains fuckin' with ya."

atsumu rolled his eyes, kicking his brother's ankles. hard, but not hard enough for him to fall off the stool. "ya fucking asshat sumu. that's why your hair looks like piss." osamu

"you two are such idiots," you shook your head at them, "no wonder shinsuke always says that he feels like a babysitter around you two."

"if suna were around, it's even more trouble." atsumu informed, as he dipped another french fry into the milkshake. "anyway, what time are ya off at, y/n?" he asked.

you checked your watch which read '11:15'. "i get off in 15. closing today."

"like 15 minutes?" atsumu raised his eyebrow, shoving another fry into his mouth.

"no dude, 15 hours." you said, sarcsm linked in your voice.

"shit 'samu, looks like we're having a sleep over here." he rolled his eyes at you.

you stuck your tounge out at him like a little kid, and he did it back.

the 15 minutes passed by quickly with much conversation going on between the three of you, with you cleaning the restaurant tables, the twins helping out a bit every here and there. once you were off, you went to the back and clocked out, and got the belongings you came with. you walked back out so you could shut off the "open" sign by the entrance. you walked back over to the twins so they could drop you off at your place. "let's roll?" atsumu got the keys from osamu's back pocket.

"ya piss head, gimme my keys back asshat." osamu hit atsumu's shoulder, grabbing his car keys back from his brother's hand.

you chuckled at the two's sibling nature, as you followed them out to osamu's white toyota camry. "shotgun!" you called out, beating atsumu to it, as you made your way to the front seat. you got inside the passenger seat, the leather seats looked like they had just been cleaned. "'samu, did you get a car wash sometime this week?"

"got one earlier after school." he chuckled, as atsumu got into the back seat. he buckled his seatbelt.

the car also had that 'new fresh car' scent to it. you hummed in response, "that makes sense." you said. the drive home was 25 minutes.

the car ride was filled with meaningless conversations while low music playing in the background. the streets quite empty, with street lights being the only one lighting up the streets.

it went silent until atsumu randomly spoke up, "y/n, samu, who do ya think would die first in a horror movie?"

me and osamu shared a knowing glance, "definitely you." we said at the same time. osamu chuckled, turning his focus back to the road, "if ya were without a milkshake and fries, you'd be roast beef." osamu teased, making fun of his brother.

"i could easily survive without a milkshake and fries! bet ya can't survive without onigiri though." atsumu replied back.

"okay but. realistically. you're ass would still be fried with or without your milkshake and fries." osamu shrugged.

atsumu scoffed, "that is so not true! i would not die first."

you sat back and observed the twin's childish arguments, you've grown used to. you pulled out your phone, and subtly started recording (so you could sent it to suna later). "well, what's the horror scenario?" you quickly asked, interupting their bickering so you could get an idea of the horror scenario.

they thought for a moment, "well what about ghostface?" atsumu suggested.

"oh yeah, you're definitely fried." you shook your head.

"no shit. he'd answer and think it's me prank calling him even if i'm right next to him." osamu clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"it's something you would do!" atsumu reasoned. you chuckled at his tone; he sounded like a little kid convincing his parents something.

"honestly, you and sumu could make a good ghostface." you put thought into it, and figured that it could make sense.

"how? this nut brain would forget to turn on the voice changer, and would suck ass at sneaking into people's houses." osamu snorted.

"no the hell i wouldn't! i'd be phenomenal as ghost face." atsumu said with pride.

"hear me out, no one would suspect you two since well atsumu's a dumbass, and you just seem like you don't give a shit. if i could explain it better, i definitely would but my mind is getting it's rest right now."

osamu shrugged, "ya have a point," he chuckled.

"i still wanna know why ya think i would die first." atsumu was still puzzled and stuck on the question.

"cause it just makes sense. the only reason you'd live is because ya annoyed the killer that much that they just decided not to kill ya." osamu joked.

"shut yer mouth osamu. ya would probably accidentally tweet about being ghostface on twitter." atsumu rolled his eyes at his brother.

"twitter? who the shit even uses twitter?" he furrowed his eyebrows, "might as well say something about it on fucking facebook, tsumu."

"i bet ya do use facebook. you're like a millennial." atsumu held in his laugh, as osamu shot him a glare through the rear view mirror.

"shut up asshat. if i were to get payed everytime you annoyed me, i'd be the richest man alive."

the rest of the car ride was filled with the twins childish bickering, which you just sat back and listened to. recording every now and then so you could show suna.

osamu finally pulled into your drive way, "shit thank you again samu. and tsumu." you smiled, unbuckling your seatbelt.

"anytime, n/n." osamu returned the smile, and so did atsumu. "it's a regular thing that usually happens every thrice a week." atsumu grinned.

you looked at him weirdly, "what the fuck is thrice?"

"ya'know-"

you cut him off before he could even start his sentence, "no dude i totally do know. that's why i asked what the fuck thrice means."

"jesus, relax." he sighed, "thrice means like three times. i was smart."

"that's idiotic, but whatever you wanna think tsumu." you shook your head.

"well, should probably get inside my house before it gets any later. plus i don't wanna keep you two out so late." you apologized. they shook it off, saying it was fine. atsumu noticed it was cold outside and that you didn't have a jacket.

he took his off, and tossed it over your seat, "here, n/n. it's pretty cold outside and you don't have a jacket. it'd be ass if you got sick, so use that."

"but-"

"shut up, give it back whenever you want." atsumu shrugged. you thanked atsumu, putting the maroon jacket on.

you opened the car door, as did the twins. they got out the car with you to walk you to your doorstep. "thank you, again for the millionth time."

"and for the millionth time, we're welcome." osamu grinned.

you knocked on the door, waiting for your brother or your parents to open the door. and soon enough, kita came and answered the door, thanking the twins for dropping you off before making you come inside.

as soon as you came home, you dropped your thing next to the couch and knocked out.

﹫juli8s' work! do not copy! || xtra words frm jules: guys who should i make y/n end up with😟

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ & ʀᴜʟᴇs┊ʜᴏᴍᴇ

#୨୧┊𝔧𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢'𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨𝔰 #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya #osamu miya #miya twins #atsumu #osamu #atsumu miya x reader #osamu miya x reader #miya twins x twins #oneshot #fluff #diner

[rowrory]

THE BEST OF THE BEST (in no particular order)

HAIKYUU

@heich0e

@kageyuji

@watevermelon

@kyopmi

@ushiwhacka

@imomomi

BLUE LOCK

@earthtooz

@saerins

@hyomagiri

@kaiijo

@garoujo

JUJUTSU KAISEN

@by-moonflower

@seravphs

@satorhime

@saetoru

@mitsies

@missmeinyourbones

@augustinewrites

@hawnks

@enkvyu

@seoafin

@twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

Note. some of these writers may also write for other fandoms that may or may not be a category on this list. i will be adding to this post if i encounter any more authors with high-quality works.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu oneshot #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq x you #haikyuu headcanons #hq atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #miya osamu x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock #itoshi sae x reader

[keitea]

haikyuu guys as the types of study partners

[note: cw!swearing other than that nothing else! this is a little self-indulgent (yet again) AHAHA studying for long hours really exhausts the shit out of me and sometimes my breaks are too long :( but to students out there, always prioritise your health and well-being first!]

[note 2: i wrote this months ago while studying for finals and forgot about it ㅠㅠ but i'll post it anyway hehe enjoy~]

— miya twins

you should just run away at this point

naur i'm joking

anyways they're probably not so clueless that you'll have to teach them everything

it does help that they're twins, because mfs will compete over everything

that includes grades

imagine you're tutoring them in chemistry and they don't understand anything in the first lesson

you kinda blow it off because you understand that it's difficult to process organic chemistry in a day (i fucking love organic chem)

however in the next lesson they show up with their worksheets done and they bombard you with questions

needless to say it makes your job a lot easier

bonus: they always bet on how many bowls of ramen the loser would buy. let's just say they've had their fair share of suffering for a month :)

"okay 'tsumu, how much did you get?" he raises his paper proudly, displaying the 73/100 grade for chemistry. "hAH! ONE MARK HIGHER YA DUMBASS!" osamu starts cheering, rubbing his victory into atsumu's face.

you mentally facepalm at the sight in front of you, silently begging for kita to show up.

"need help?" suna pops out of nowhere, eyeing the twins with a grin on his face.

"not the person i was expecting but go ahead."

— akaashi keiji

helps but you can tell he’s done with you at times

he knows math isn't easy (i throw myself off a cliff everytime i do a math paper i hate it here)

it's hard for you to process anything related to math, and you often have to dedicate hours after hours just to get a decent grade

that alone is time-consuming and a very dreaded period of time

mainly because you struggle to understand shit and you're just demoralised and unmotivated

keiji has noticed this for a while and offers to help!

at first he's quite understanding with how much more effort you need to put in, but as time passes and exams are around the corner, he gets more stressed because you're panicking and still don't get anything

(when i say this is self-indulgent, i'm projecting my own suffering here)

BUT you two eventually work things out smoothly and yall got the grades you wanted :) until his history paper got a little messed up and you offered to help him out :)

and then you experience how he probably felt when he was teaching you math

"keiji, just think that britain and france were not it." he furrows his eyebrows and stares at you. "but why?"

you try not to sigh in exasperation, but you've repeated yourself for the nth time and it isn't processing in his head. you could practically hear the gears in his brain try to shift.

you have to thank him for teaching you math.

".. y'know sometimes you don't have to know everything," there's a pause and you know keiji was just waiting ".. well it's because they prioritised their national interests and because WW1 fucked up their economy??"

"…" "is your brain too overloaded with soviet union's history?"

"clearly," and this makes you both laugh painfully.

#hq oneshots #haikyuu x reader #yujeong's 💭 #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #atsumu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #hq!! #hq drabbles #hq imagines #osamu x reader #akaashi x reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #akaashi keiji

[blissfullyrhea]

He likes to keep count of how many times he can make you cum during your ✨ sessions ✨ and you’re so oblivious to it, never catching on that he’s not only keeping count mentally but every time your cunt flutters around him or your hips stutter giving him that tell tale sign that you’re close, his mouth latches on to your skin, teeth and tongue fighting to make a mark and add to the count.

To you, he’s just really possessive, loves marking you, making it known you’re his - which is true, don’t get him wrong… but he also loves looking at you doing mundane things whilst covered in bruises you can’t fully cover up, knowing their secret meaning.

I think he’s ready to add to them 😩

#kita shinsuke #atsumu miya #suna rinatro #osamu miya #gojo satoru #oikawa tooru #iwazumi hajime #megumi fushiguro #ace one piece #aizawa shōta #nanami kento #geto suguru #semi #tendou satori #sugawara koushi #daichi sawamura #smut #oneshot #bakugo katsuki #keigo takami #shigaraki tomura #touya todoroki #dabi #Shisui Uchiha #naruto uzumaki