#miya osamu x f!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ninapi · 1 year

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┏━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┓

For Kimetsu go here

For Jujutsu go here

For Tokyo Rev here

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

❀。• New to this

Akaashi version (Good ending route): Akaashi Keiji falls in love with a single mother and realizes she's all he wants for his life.

Word count: 27,791

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

☆Bonus chapter (Valentines special)

Osamu version (Happy ending route): Osamu fights for his very own chance at happiness when he is reunited with his first love, the mother of his brother's son.

Word count: 20,044

☆ ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

Atsumu version (True ending route): Atsumu gets another chance to get back the love of his life, the mother of his son, and build the family he was supposed to have.

Word count: 23,240

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

❀。• Save me

The beginning: ☆ch.0

Semi version (Good ending route): Semi never thought he would find love where his insecurities laid deep, he never thought someone so broken could be so full of love, he never thought he needed to feel loved as much, until he met you.

Word Count: 24,248

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

☆Bonus Chapter: Good ending Oikawa version

Ushijima version (Happy ending route): Ushijima struggles to understand the concept of love and what is expected of him in said equation, but he finds himself in the predicament of wanting nothing more than to be with the woman he loves even if it gets in the way of his established lifestyle.

Word Count: 19,837

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

Kageyama version (True ending route): Friendship is a fragile thing. Keeping you safe was his priority for the longest time, but overcoming hardships along someone you hold dear form irreplaceable, indestructible bonds, and a childhood friend can easily become the love of your life; or so that was for Kageyama Tobio.

Word Count: 19,958

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4 ☆ch.5 ☆ch.6

❀。• Forbidden Forest

Premise: Ancient Japan gets hit by a rare disease coming from the birds. Succumbing to it and fearing for the safety of your bird companion, as a last resort you reach a mythical forest full of ancient shapeshifting creatures. Will you be able to find a cure? Will you be safe in the middle of a forest full of unknown forces? Love is right around the corner and meeting different clans will help you find it.

☆ Ch.0

☆ Tengu Clan Path (Sugawara Koushi):

Staying by your bird friend's side was the most comforting path to follow. Will this one lead to a happy ending? Was this the right choice? Love can weigh you down sometimes, but it's wonderful, nonetheless.

Word count: 5782

☆ Owl Clan Path (Bokuto Koutarou):

The promise of a cure had never been this close, being the wisest of the forest clans, the answer might be around the corner, but what if you didn’t want to leave the forest any longer?

Word count: 4764

☆Bakeneko Clan Path (Kuroo Tetsurou):

The possibility to save humanity presented itself, but you would have to leave the forest to chase this opportunity, something that could end your life. What you didn’t know was that chasing it would also mean find a love like no other, one that was waiting for you on the other side.

Word count: 5582

❀。• Fox Village

Premise: The last option to overcome the illness that holds you was very much uncertain. A place only known to be a myth became your last chance to survive. Welcome to the fox village, a place full of mystical beings, a place to finally call home, a place where love knocks in more than one door at the same time and choosing which to open might as well change your life forever.

☆ Ch.0

❀。• Kita Version (Good Ending Route): The connection he had with his past made Kita want you more than any of the others. He wanted to be like his grandma and she had a human by her side, always. Looking for the village best interest he ends up finding the real meaning of true love.

Word Count: 6296

☆ Ch.1 ☆ Ch.2

❀。• Atsumu Version (Happy Ending, Ver.1): Atsumu had never been interested in others, to his family and the village he was a good for nothing, a heartless fox possessed by an evil spirit that feeds on his compassion. But to you, he was just like everybody else. Having someone to listen to you and be by your side sometimes can make a big difference in who you become and what you accomplish in life, and so it was for Miya Atsumu.

Word count: 6348

☆ Ch.1 ☆ Ch.2

❀。• Suna Version (Happy Ending, Ver.2): Being the first born of the most prominent house in the village, it was a pressing matter for Suna to deliver as future head of his clan. High expectations were set for him which sent him your way, only for him to realize you were all he really needed.

Word Count: 6111

☆ Ch.1 ☆Ch.2

❀。• Osamu Version (True Ending): Fighting his own blood for what he wanted had always been an everyday thing for Osamu, but this time was different, he wouldn't let anyone have you, not even his twin brother. Before you, mating was just a concept of survival for them, but love can change someone to unimaginable lengths.

Word Count: 6186

☆ Ch.1 ☆ Ch.2

❀。• Glitched:

Premise: Suna Rintarou unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams through an online game and he does his best to find this mysterious girl in the real world and keep her for good.

Word count: 12,514

☆ch.1 ☆ch.2 ☆ch.3 ☆ch.4

❀。• A perfect circle

Premise: When you like the guy who likes the guy that likes you, things get a little out of hand, when a triangle becomes a circle not just one gets hurt. [Yamaguchi/Tsukki]

Word count: in progress…

☆ Ch.1 ☆ Ch.2 ☆ Ch.3 ☆Ch.4

....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

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rotten1angel · 4 months

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ahem..

post-timeskip osamu who’s just covered in tattoos, specifically his biceps which are bulging out of his onigiri miya shirt.

#sorry y’all #✩ // angel chats #osamu miya x f!reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu x reader

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kingdaddydaichi · 1 year

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Your breath hitches every time Osamu drives his cock into your squelching pussy, the lewd noises of your slurping cunt fueling his thrusts. His fists anchor him to the counter on either side of you; your wrists pressed pathetically between your titties as they drag across the stainless-steel surface.

“Fuck, yer fat pussy’s swallowin’ my whole dick, pretty girl,” he growls between clenched teeth. His pretty grey-brown eyes fluttering as they roll back in his head.

He fucks his needy cock into your greedy pussy a few more times before he pulls out and orders you onto your knees in front of him. “Open yer slutty mouth,” he commands. “Get ready to eat m’cum, sweet thing…”

You squeeze your naked tits together as he looks down at you, thick eyebrows knitted as he tugs on his angry cock. Without breaking eye contact, you stick your tongue out and begin flicking it along his dark, leaking slit. That seems to do the trick if the fact that he throws his head back is anything to go by. Wringing his swollen cockhead in his fist, Osamu’s first thread of hot cum ejects onto your waiting face.

“Fuck yeah, I’ma give you the prettiest facial. Keep that fuckin’ mouth open, babe!” His hot cum continues to streak across your face before he dips the twitching tip of his dick into your mouth. Squeezing one of his nipples between the fingers of one hand, he uses the other to wipe the last dribbles of his orgasm off onto your pliant tongue.

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emmyrosee · 6 months

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my friend ate this when she was pregnant with her first born, and naturally I had to put Samu here 🩷

——

“You want to eat what?”

You smile and dig your toe into the ground, swaying shyly at the reaction from your loving husband at the mere idea of your craving.

“I want ice cream in… like. Cabbage.”

His brow cocks and he licks his lips, looking at you in disbelief, and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles in your throat from the genuine judgement coming from your man.

He sighs, “I can make you any food on the planet, buy you the finest of fast food… but you want ice cream-cabbage-sandwich?”

“It sounds so good right now,” you whine. Then, your hands come up to cradle your belly, “I can’t help what Rumi wants me to eat.”

“Didn’t she want skittles in milk the other day?”

Your mouth practically salivates at the memory of the sweet treat he made you previously to satisfy your craving. But that’s not what you want right now.

Right now, you want an ice cream-cabbage-sandwich.

Osamu moves his big hands to cover his face, scrubbing softly before laughing, shaking his head, and then stalking over to you. Two large hands gently cradle the baby in your belly, thumbs lovingly stroking over the curvature of your bump. He sighs, “what ya think, Rumi girl? You want chocolate or vanilla?”

You pull a face, “vanilla. I’m not a sociopath.”

He snorts and moves to the vegetables, “right, of course, what was I thinking?”

Tagging 🥺 @reverie-starlight @wolffmaiden @thoreeo @aliensknowmyillusions @tutuwusworld @lavishcherie @sassycheesecake @cheolattes @rrairey @dira333 @unknownspecies

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cynopcis · 2 years

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this guy's in love with you bro (hq! suna x reader) ft. miya twins

notes: reader uses she/her and is referred to as a girl, i dont know what this is, might do a part 2, no proofread we die like men, lowercase is intentional!

the twins side-eye you as you take a deep breath once, twice, thrice. they do it again but this time with suna as you breath out slowly and rather loudly, distracting them from their current game.

you utter a small "sorry" as you gesture for them to continue their game, they do as you say until you dramatically clamp your hand over your mouth and a single tear falls down your cheek.

"ok! pause!" atsumu says flinging the controller on the bottom bunk, "what is it? what's the problem."

you hide your face in your hands and start whining incoherent sentences into the your palm, "it's nothing."

"oh come on," osamu peels your hands away from your face, "it's not nothing when you're obviously distressed about something."

suna throws a pillow at your head, "I bet she's just whining about not having a boyfriend."

atsumu looks at you in disappointment, "I thought you wanted a hot girl summer!"

"i did!" you plop down the bed, you start pounding on the bed with your first, "but i'm miserable and lonely"

"yer have us," osamu half-heartedly says, losinh interest in your 'problem' and completely done with your theatrics.

"you guys wont tie my shoelace for me knowing that I suck at it!"

"you aren't a baby anymore for fucks sake."

"i already told ya how!"

"i do that."

"you guys won't bring me random flowers you pick up from the side of the road just because it reminds you of me!"

"i'd rather give you my leftovers"

"it's gonna wilt anyway"

"i literally gave you a one last week."

"you guys won't take ugly but cute stolen pictures of me because you think i'm so pretty!"

"don't get full of your self now."

"bitch please"

"i have a thousand pictures of you, dude."

"you guys wont willingly spend the whole night listening to me rant about my sad pathetic life!"

"..."

"i need sleep for training duh."

"we literally just had a 5 hour call last night about your lack of love life."

"and most importantly, you guys wont love me unconditionally even when-"

"bro, I'm literally right here and I'm in love with you." suna tries to say casually after throwing Atsumu's body pillow on your face. Osamu drops his onigiri on the carpet and Atsumu is slowly trying to comprehend what he just said.

"bro..."

"bro?"

and you start crying for real.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu #suna rintaro #suna x reader #suna x f!reader #miya atsumu #miya osamu #🌱.hq #🌱.all works

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ravenslvt · 3 months

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why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x f!reader! (pt.3)☆

pt.1 pt.2 pt.4 links!!

cw: smut! porn with feelings, fluff!, oral sex f recieving, confessions, alcohol use (responsibly), reader is hot and she knows it, tiny bit of angst but not really, party!, atsumu is annoying.

you stare at yourself in the mirror, cursing trying to put the obnoxious earring backing on.

“here let me help you.” your best friend mumbles, moving your hair and easily putting the jewlery on in place.

“thanks… are you sure it won’t be too cold tonight? maybe the skirt is too much.” you pout, looking over your outfit. the only ‘going out’ clothes you really brought was a short skirt and your favorite top that you’d wear to parties back at college.

it was your last week here at the suna residence, with classes starting up again soon.

so of course, the miya twins decided to reunite everyone at their family home, and throw a party. you were at least thankful it was only a street away so no one had to drive over there.

“you’ll be fine. atsumu’s hosting, i’m sure he’ll offer to warm you up” ami giggles. you roll your eyes. the more eccentric miya twin had always pined after you back in high school. of course you never paid him any mind, your heart was always focused on rintarou.

everytime you’d go to the inarizaki volleyball games back in high school, he’d come up to you with his charming smile. ‘aww, come all this way just to see little ol’ me? how sweet!’ he’d say before his brother would come in and grab him, apologizing for his nagging behavior. what you’d never notice though, was the way rintarou would glare daggers at his friend, always flirting with you right in front of him.

you wouldn’t hear their conversations in the locker rooms back then either.

‘i think i’m gonna ask her out, what do you think, suna?’ the blonde setter comments, smirking at the brunette who sat on the bench on his phone.

he just scoffed, sounding unconvinced. ‘good luck with that.’

‘hey! what’s that supposed to mean?’ he pouts, his ego taking a blow.

‘just saying, doesn’t seem like she’s that interested in you.’ suna replies, taking a sip from his water bottle.

‘oh yeah? sounds like you’re just jealous, mister.’ atsamu’s lips quirk back up into his usual smirk.

rin’s eye twitches.

‘no way. she’s like a sister to me.’

“ami you liar, it’s cold as fuck!” you shiver slightly, holding your arms to your chest as you step out the front door, rintarou locking it behind you three.

“consequences of dressing like a hottie. some liquor will warm you right up” she beams at you, making you sigh. “i guess” you squirm uncomfortably in your outfit. the second you walked downstairs, rintarou’s eyes went directly to your bare legs in the skirt. he still seemed so nervous around you even after he’s quite literally been inside of you (twice).

“let’s go before atsumu drinks everything and starts challenging people to sing offs.” the older suna says, walking ahead of you guys on the sidewalk.

“jeez, why’s he in a mood” ami mutters to you, you just shrug, eyeing him.

rin wasn't too excited at the thought of watching guys fawn over you all night while he had to stand back and not be able to do a thing about it.

once you approach the house, you could hear music playing from the backyard. rintarou knocks on the door first, texting someone to let them know you were there.

the door opens a few seconds later, a grey haired twin smiling at you three. “look who it is! long time no see girls. suna.” he gives the man a side hug, they still saw each other from time to time after college. you noticed the way osamu’s eyes lit up when ami smiled back at him. your eyebrows quirked.

“everyone’s scattered around, mostly in the back. drinks in the kitchen, beer pong in the garadge. the usual.” he lets you guys in pointing to each area as if you all hadn’t been there before.

“thanks, samu! c’mon” ami grabs your arm, giving osamu a kirt wave before dragging you into the kitchen where a few familiar faces stood around. you two pour yourselves drink after drink, conversing with some girls you ran into.

“atsumu!” one of the girls waves behind you. you hear him approach, turning around to face him. rintarou stood across the room with the osamu, keeping an eye once he saw the blonde come up to you.

“if it isn’t my favorite girl! how are you, gorgeous?” he slings a strong arm around your shoulder. if you weren’t in such a good mood you probably would have shrugged him off.

“hi, miya” you play into it, giving him a friendly smile. but still, rintarou lingered in the back of your mind.

“miya? ouch, no need to be so formal to the future love of your life.” he puts a dramatic hand to his heart, as if he’d been stabbed. you just roll your eyes, moving his arm and stepping away from him. he puts on his usual pout, ignoring the other girls who were trying to get his attention.

“you’re funny. should be a comedian instead of an athlete.” you comment, taking a sip from the plastic cup in your hand. you ignore the familiar burning sensation of the alcohol in your throat.

“i think that’s the only compliment you’ve ever given me, i’m flattered.”

you roll your eyes at his antics. you should’ve expected this from him.

rin watches from the side, downing his drink a little too fast.

“don’t let atsumu rile you up, man. dude’s just trying to rebound from his last girlfriend who dumped him.” osamu reassures the tall middle blocker, noticing his glaring at his brother.

“rebound? he’s trying to hook up with her or something?” suna’s grip on the cup tightens at the thought of you even being near atsumu in that way.

“who knows, he’s been crushing on her since like second year. why do you care so much anyways? i thought you saw her like a- oh.” his eyes soften. he got it. the time he got lunch with suna a week ago, noticing the hickies on his neck. him mentioning that you were staying at their house over the break.

you two were fucking.

“jesus dude, does your sister know?” he questions, his voice getting a little quieter.

“huh? what, no. we’re both adults, i don’t see why…” rintarou drags on, noticing the way the blonde twin was getting closer and closer to you.

“then why do you- hey! where are you going?” the grey haired twin calls after him, but he just ignores him.

your eyes meet rin’s as he approaches. a hint of relief washing over you. osamu took this chance to chat up ami.

“what’s goin on, dude?” suna puts a hand on the setter’s shoulder.

“suna! missed seein’ you around!” the tipsy man gives his attention to his old friend, giving you a chance to slip away. you give ami some excuse like ‘need some fresh air.’ she just nods, making sure you’re good before continuing her conversation with the calmer twin. you smile at the way her face lit up when talking to him.

you sit on a loungchair by the pool, far enough from everyone. you pull out your phone, giggling at the thought of how mad rintarou would be realizing his sister and bestfriend were flirting. it was kind of ironic though, given your own situation.

your mind started to wander. were you wrong for openly lying to your bestfriend who you adored so dearly? you’d liked rin for years, but since you guys started hooking up, you’ve had a guilty conscience.

what even were you two? you weren’t dating, but more than friends. the stolen kisses you two shared when ami wasn’t in the room. the looks you give each other over dinner or when passing in the hallway. it would all be over in a weeks time. would he move on? find someone else to occupy his time?

“what are you staring at?” the low voice you know oh to well cuts through your thoughts. you realize you spaced out, staring into the changing colors of the pool lights. suna takes a seat next to you on the spacious chair.

“nothing, just thinking.” you shrug, bringing your gaze back to him.

“what are you doing out here?” you add, picking up your drink from the floor and taking a sip. he gives you a small smile.

“couldn’t let you sit out here all alone. especially if tsumu tried hitting on you again.” he watches as your lips meet the cup. your eyebrow quirked.

“hmm. someone jealous?” you smirk, placing your drink back down on the floor, your head already dizzy from all the alcohol you’ve already had. plus your close proximity to the man in front of you did not help.

he snorts. “of him? no way. if you wanted him you would’ve gone for it years ago. plus-“ he leans a little closer. “-he’s not the one who got to fuck you.” oh the liquor made him bold.

it was true, he wasn’t jealous of the setter himself. he was more jealous at the thought of anyone else having you. especially when you leave in a week.

“y’know, tokyo’s only like, three hours away from where i go.” he says. he refuses to look away from you. you just look so good.

“what are you implying?” you cross one leg over the other, leaning a little back to get a better look at him.

“i-i don’t know. just mentioning it.” you scoff at his sudden dry response. your heart feeling a small pang of hurt from remembering what atsumu told you just a few minutes ago before rin came over to save you from his nagging.

‘aw that’s cute. looking over at suna over there. y’know he told me he sees you as a little sister. such a sweet guy looking out for you like that.’ the worst part is he wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic or spiteful, just genuinely praising suna.

“right…” you sigh, standing up to leave. before you can even turn around he reaches for your hand.

“hey, what’s wrong?” his voice is full of worry. your shoulders slump, he stands to meet your height. he still held onto your hand, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

“i-i’m just drained. think i’m gonna walk back home.” your skin tingles at the way he’s so gentle with you. compared to the way he was in sports.

“let me walk you.”

“no, that’s not necessary rin.”

“you’re drunk, i’m not gonna let you walk home alone.”

“i’m not even that-“ you start, but he cuts you off with a stern scold of your own name.

“fine… but let me text your sister first.” you sigh, sending her a quick ‘don’t feel too god, rintarou’s gonna take me home. are you ok? we can stay if you want.’

she sends back a text that makes you giggle. ‘oh girl, do not worry about me’ you look up and spot her with osamu, she gives you a thumbs up. you knew you were right. she’s been wanting to hop on the samu train since high school. glad she finally got the chance.

‘don’t wait up. probably gonna stay here tonight. do NOT tell my brother he will murder me and samu both.’

you laugh at your phone, suna gives you a confused look.

“what’s so funny?”

“oh, nothing. let’s go.”

you two snuck out the back gate, not wanting to draw any attention. it was bad enough you two were walking out together, a lingering mark still on his neck from just a few days ago.

“you still cold?” he asks, your shoulders brushing as you walk down the dark street.

“nah, ami was right. tequila warms me right up.” you say. plus the close proximity to him kept you warm, his body heat radiating from under his jacket. it stayed silent for a few moments before you speak up.

“was… was atsumu telling the truth?” you say, looking up at him.

“what did that idiot say this time?” he gives a small laugh.

“that you think of me as a sister.” this makes him stop dead in his tracks. he looks at you nervously.

“do you really think we’d have done all we did if i thought that?” he says, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. you shrug, making him sigh.

“i said that shit in high school. before…”

“before what?” you peer up at him, his callused hands moving to cup your face.

“before i realized i… had feelings for you.” he confesses, making your eyes widen.

when rintarou first realized he was in love with you, it was a little later than when you developed your own crush on him. it was your eighteenth birthday, suna was nineteen and in his first year of college. ami threw you a suprise party at her house, inviting all your friends. you wore your prettiest little outfit. ami even convinced her uncle to get you guys some beers, needless to say, the birthday girl drank most of them.

when the night went on, you spotted rin nursing his own beer on the couch. you come up to him, sitting maybe a little too close than you meant to.

“why’re you sulking here by yourself. s’my birthday! i command you to have some fun, rintarou.” the way you said his name made something stir inside of him. your body faced his, you didn’t even notice the way your dress rode up on your thighs, or the way his eyes immediately went down to them.

“how’s it feel to finally be an adult?” he says, forcing his eyes back on yours.

“s’alright. kinda anticlimactic but i’m glad m’here. glad you’re here.” you admit, the alcohol clearly making you more bold. his eyes widen a little. you weren’t just his little sister’s best friend, you were a smart, funny, beautiful woman. he’s always known you were pretty, it was obvious. but he’d never had a genuine conversation with you like this.

you two talked for half an hour. everytime you’d smile or laugh at something he said, his heart beat would quicken in his chest.

your head whipped when you heard a call of your name from one of your friends. “c’mon! we got you a cake!”

he never forgot the smile you had on your face when your friends put this much effort into your birthday. it just proved what a good, special person you were. he found himself not wanting you to leave, wanting you to stay talking with him. the nagging pain in his heart when you got up to leave, giving him a cute little wave and a ‘talk to you later!’

then it all clicked.

years of glaring at any boy who approached you, smiling whenever he’d see you in the stands of his games cheering him on, the small tingle of excitment in his chest when he knew you were coming over to see his sister.

he’d loved you for so long, and he never even realized it. not until you left for college, leaving him with his own feelings to sort through. so when he found out you were staying with them over the break, god was he estatic on the inside.

you two stand only a few houses down from his. you could easily walk over and continue the conversation there, but he needed you. needed you to know how much he truly cared.

“oh” a hint of nerves crawled up your spine. your head spins. you’d been this close so many times before, but behind closed doors. except that one time in the kitchen.

but he held you in the middle of the street, not caring that anyone could walk out of their house and see you two. his forehead presses against yours, breathing in your air.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just lean up on your tipy toes and peck his lips, making him smile. he wraps his arms around your waist, not a chance of letting you pull away from him.

“rin, someone might see.” you giggle into the kiss, he just shakes his head gently.

“i don’t give a fuck, let them.”

you stand in his room. it hadn’t changed very much since the very few times you’d peeked in walking past it before. a few hoodies laid out in his chair from when he was deciding what to wear earlier.

he had a few posters on his walls, some of random volleyball teams and even some random bands. the room smelled like him.

“here, drink some water.” he walks back in, closing the door behind him as he hands you a clear plastic bottle. you take it, your hand brushing with his own. you seat yourself on the edge of his bed, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor anxiously. you take a few sips to relieve your nerves.

“you look really good tonight.” his voice cuts through the silence. your head perks up, eyes meeting his.

“so i don’t look good every other night?” you give him a playful smile. he scoffs, hopping on the bed next to you, making the mattress squeak.

“you know what i mean.” his large hand finds your own, playing with you fingers.

this was probably the first time in the last few weeks you’d been alone for this long together without fucking.

“osamu knows about… us.” his hand doesn’t leave your own. your eyebrow quirks.

“you told him?” you softly ask, not angry or demanding. if anything, you were somewhat flattered he wanted people to know.

“he figured it out. mentioned i was ‘oogling’ you too hard” he gives a small chuckle, squeezing your hand gently. his small little acts of affection always made you relax into his touch. you lead your head on his strong shoulder, sighing.

“you think he’ll tell ami?” you peek up at him, moving a peice of his dark hair away from his eyes. he just shrugs.

“probably not. even if he does it wouldn’t be the worst thing.” he kisses your forehead.

“i’d rather her find out when i’m hours away. i don’t need to be murdered in my sleep for lying to her.” you reply. he just laughs.

“c’mon. you’re the only girl she’d ever approve of me being with. she loves you, my parents love you, i-“

you cut him off with a kiss to his surprisingly soft lips, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

he smiles into the kiss, his hands going to your waist to bring you closer.

“c’mere” he grabs your hips, helping you straddle his lap, facing him. you hold back a gasp when you feel his half hard dick

“someone’s impatient…” you mumble into his mouth, he bites your lip in retort. you try to pull back but his mouth just follows yours, hands gripping your waist for dear life so you didn’t fall right off his lap.

“look so pretty in your little skirt-“ one of his hands reaches under your skirt, groping your ass through your panties, making you gasp.

“-wanted to drag you in the bathroom and fuck you over the counter.” his kisses go down your jaw, sucking new marks into your neck and collarbones.

“jesus, rin.” your voice is needy. you unconsciously grind your hips into his, needing some some sort of friction. the action made him groan.

your breath catches in your throat when he switches your positions, you laying on your back on his bed while he stands over you. his eyes go to your lifted skirt, holding back a groan when he sees the growing wet patch on the fabric of your panties.

he breathes out your name, looking up at you while slowly kissing down your exposed thighs, kneeling down. you squirm under him, he just gives your thigh a threatening squeeze. “stay still, pretty.” his nose finds your clothed clit, making you gasp.

“y-you don’t have to-“

“shush. i want to, so badly.” he assures, licking your clothed cunt. the fabric adding to the stimulation, making you grip his sheets underneath you.

he slides your soaked panties to the side, the cool air hitting your now exposed pussy.

“always so pretty for me.” he immediately delves into your cunt, lapping up and down you folds before focusing on your clit. you let out mewls of his name, gripping at his dark locs of hair.

he brings you closer to him, his arms locking under your thighs so he’s holding you up to his mouth. he could do this forever.

he moans into your wetness, the sounds of your pleasure making him practically get off. he slowly grinded his own hips into the bed, but not letting himself cum unless it was with you.

you’d never felt like this before. the constant laps of his hot tongue compared to his mouth sucking on your clit making you clench your thighs around him. he groaned at a certain harsh tug to his hair, the vibrations on your pussy only adding to the pleasure.

what really got you close to the edge though was when his tongue prods itself into your tight hole, making you try and pull away from how overwhelmed you were with how good it felt.

“f-fuck, rin, s’too much.” your thighs start to shake around his head, but he only speeds up. his nose catching on your clit while his tongue dips into you, pumping in and out. you let out a loud moan when you start to cum around his tongue, suna not even daring to stop. if all he could eat for the rest of his life was your pussy, he’d be between your legs all day everyday.

your hips roll into his face, wetness coating his chin and nose. you have to push his head away when it starts to get too much. he pulls away, panting. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, crawling up on top of you to kiss you. you sigh into the kiss when you taste yourself on his tounge. it got you aroused all over again.

“rinnn” you whine, hands tugging at his hoodie.

“what’s up, baby?” he kisses your cheek, a smug smirk on his face looking down at you. he looked absolutely heavenly looking over you, hands on either side of your head.

“need you” you pout up at him.

“what do you need, hmm?” he sits up on his knees to pull his hoodie over his head, his bare chest and toned abs on display. you practically moan just at the sight of him. you’d never get bored of this view.

“you- your cock… please” your hands go straight to his abs, kissing down his pecs and stomach. he chuckles at you, hand smoothing down your hair.

“want me t’make you feel good?” he pushes your shoulders back down so your back is completley pressed against the sheets. you nod frantically.

“anything for my gorgeous girl.” he slides his pants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere on the floor. while he does this you take your chance to rip your top off, along with your bra.

he crawls back over you, slotting himself between your legs. you look at him expectedly as he pulls out his already hard cock. pre cum already leaking from his raging pink tip.

he lines himself up with you, impatiently siding himself into your needy hole.

you’d never felt him from this angle before, the way he was perfectly slotted inside of you.

he slowly moves his hips, cock sliding deliciously in and out of you. your eyes screw shut.

“g-god rin, feels so good, fuck!” your hands go straight to his shoulders, not caring how badly your manicured nails were dragging down his arms.

but it wasn’t enough for him. he grabs your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he pumps even deeper.

“there we go. so f-fucking perfect, baby.” his breath hitched as his pace quickens, fucking into you at the perfect speed and angle.

you let out the most borderline pornographic moan when the head of his cock hits that spongey spot deep inside of you. his hand goes to pinch and tug at your nipples, making you mewl.

“rinn!” you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. this was by far your favorite angle with him.

“right here, pretty.” he wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss you, but he didn’t wanna hurt your poor legs. plus you felt so good he didn’t wanna move. so instead his thumb goes to your slick pussy, rubbing and pinching at your clit.

“so fuckin’ messy.” he grunts, your cunt practically trapping him in. you watch as he spits down where you two meet, adding extra lubricant. the sight made you feel so dirty, but so fucking good.

his eyes watched the way his cock entered you so insanley perfectly. like you were made to take him. the wet noises coming from your arousal whenever he thrusts in and out and the sounds of your mixed moans filled the quiet room.

his head rolls back and he groans, he wanted to kiss you so bad.

“fuck- switch. want you to ride me.” you pout when he pulls out, leaving you feeling so empty.

you sit up, as he sits leaning against the headboard. he gives his cock a few pumps when he watches you climb on him, hands on his shoulders as you line his cock up with you. his hands hold your waist for support as you sink yourself down onto him.

you let out a moan when he’s fully seated inside of you. you move off of him almost all the way, bouncing yourself up and down his cock.

“oh-“ you moan as he snaps up his own hips to meet your own. you hear as his head slams against the wooden headboard with a grunt.

he grabs your throat, bringing you in to kiss him. it was messy and needy. all tongue and teeth at how fucked out you both were. he pulls back, his hand still lingering on your throat as the roll of your hips gets faster and faster.

his eyes focus on the marks he left on your neck, running a finger over the fresh dark purple hickies lingering all over your neck and chest. then his eyes go to your bouncing tits, grabbing them and bringing one into his mouth.

you groan when he bites down.

“rin- can’t anymore. g’nna cum” you whine out, your hips getting tired and messy. he sits up more straight, grabbing your hips and slamming up into you, making your eyes roll back.

“cum all over my cock, baby. told ya i’d make you feel good.” sweat beaded up by his brow, he was focusing on his thrusts.

“c-cum inside me rin! please, wanna feel you inside.” you plead. brain feeling like it’s short circuiting, the only thing running through your brain was how good his cock felt pumping inside of you.

he kisses you as you moan into his mouth, cuming around him and squeezing his dick. he pulses inside of you, warm cum filling you up as you share eachothers moans. your kiss goes from rushed and hot to sweet and tender as you come down from your orgasms. neither one of you makes a move to pull away, his cock softening inside of you.

“again?” you pant, kissing his cheek and looking at him with pleading eyes.

you yelp when he pinches your waist, but it turns into a small whine when you feel him get hard inside of you again.

“you’re gonna kill me, gorgeous.”

the clock read 6:28 AM. the sun was barely rising, you lie on rintarou’s chest as you two peacefully slept, his arm wrapped securely around your waist. his fluffy blanket wrapped snug around you.

the front door quietly creeks open, and shuts.

“shit that was loud as fuck” a hushed high pitched voice whispers. the younger suna sneaks up the stairs, shoes in hand, expecting to find you asleep in her bedroom. but the room was empty. the house was silent, her brother’s door closed.

hmm, that’s weird. you guys came back from the party, right?

ami knocks on her brother’s door, loudly in attempt to wake him up.

“hellooo?” she asks where you are, opening the door abruptly. “did you guys not come back from the party-“

“what the fuck?!”

a/n: need suna (requests) i love this man.

masterlist

665 notes · View notes

lunamochii · 3 months

Text

'thighs or biceps?!' osamu miya x f!reader

cw; slightly suggestive

"Did ya remember when Atsumu's wife, back in our highschool days, said that she likes his thighs?"

You swallowed the fries you were chewing and pause the movie that you are watching. Turning your attention to your boyfriend, who's sitting idly and scrolling through his phone

"What about it Osamu?" You question and he puts down his phone and reach for your face, craddling it with his hand "Well.... what about you? Which do you like my biceps or thighs?"

You swear that you could have pass out just by laughing non-stop at what he said, your boyfriend groans and look away

"Gosh! Never have I ever dreamt of you saying that!"

"It's okay if you won't answer! Geez..."

His sulking base on how he puff his cheeks, arms cross infront of his chest. You giggled one last time before snaking your one arm behind him and the other caressing his biceps

"Haven't I made it obvious?" You said when leaning in closer to his ears, you notice how it got red right away

"M-my biceps?" Osamu couldn't believe himself stuttering just by feeling your hand squeezing his side and caressing his arms

"Hmmm~ wrong."

You smiled and move away from his side, getting down on your knees and positioning yourself in between his legs. You start to caress thighs and smirks. His wearing shorts, perfect, you thought. Slowly, you lift one side of his short and starts to ghost your lips over the skin of his thighs.

"Babe.."

"Hm?"

"Thighs?"

Osamu nearly lost it when you lick his thighs and let your tongue travel upwards. He let out a groan when he felt you bite softly on the fat of his thighs.

"So you like my thighs?" He manages to complete his sentence but you only shook your head and comes up again "Wrong again, babe!" You giggle and leaves a open-mouthed kisses on his neck, earning a soft moan from him.

You took his hand that he was using to hold your waist, moving away from his neck. You rolled up the sleeve of his top and kisses his biceps. Osamu can tell that he has become a blushing mess, god, he can feel his cock throbbing.

"Fuck.."

He moans when he felt your teeth sink on the skin of his arms, you left a bunch of bite marks before kissing it one by one.

"Figured it out yet?" You ask and sat on his lap. Osamu looks at you and grin, he leans in and kisses your lips which you happily return his hot kiss.

"My thighs and biceps huh"

You smiled sheepishly and throw your hands at the back of his neck. It's safe to say that you two ended up in your shared bed, with Osamu whimpering everytime you leave a bite mark on his thighs or biceps. You were practically worshipping him and he loves it. Maybe he discovered a new kink that night, the sight of you rubbing his already cum covered cock and you biting his thighs, just turns him on so much.

••••••

bonus part.☆

"Miya-san aren't you hot?"

One of his workers asks and certainly he is feeling hot but he can't just expose his bite mark covered arms can he, now? Wouldn't want his workers or customers looking at him weirdly.

"Nah, m'fine."

He smiles and continue serving the customers but one customer did notice on why his wearing long sleeves shirt today.

"You freakshow."

"Shut up, Tsumu."

560 notes · View notes

ninapi · 1 year

Text

New to this (Osamu version)

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●

Premise: Osamu fights for his very own chance at happiness when he is reunited with his first love, the mother of his brother's son.

Word Count: 4389

Warning: Slightly suggestive, mentions of an active unprotected sex life, pet names.

Chapter 4: Family Pt.2

Saying things were moving fast wasn’t probably an accurate statement, you’ve been pinning over each other for a lifetime, but anyone seeing it from the outside would say it was fast indeed.

Family life came out so naturally, it had a rhythm of its own. The three of you spending a night together was all it took to have your son fall completely in love with the concept of having a dad and his uncle stopped being just that.

Seiji wasn’t sure if he was allowed to feel the way he did. But he didn’t even know bath time could be so much fun, he’s seriously been missing out in a lot of things, ¨Uncle, I….¨ he’s been acting weird all day, even left half of his food untouched and that had you both worried. ¨Is there something wrong? You didn’t even eat your pudding tonight. ¨ Osamu pulls the child closer, discarding the toys separating them, ¨It’s just that, well you know I don’t have a daddy, never had one,¨ the child is now tucking himself under Samu’s armpit, playing with his own fingers and looking down, ¨Is it weird that I want you to be it? I know you are my uncle, not my real dad, but I’ve seen what dads do with their kids in school and it looks like what we do together.¨ grabbing a rubber duckie, Samu pokes his little cheek with its beak, ¨It’s not weird at all. I also see you as my own son, so we are on the same boat here.¨ the toddler immediately looks up at him, his eyes sparkling, ¨Can you be my real daddy then? I want to live here with you for real not just some days.¨ he’s been meaning to ask you to just move in together, you were basically there every day, having an apartment just to sleep in sometimes is rather silly, but he knew the implications of asking that of you. He’s been sneaking in a few kisses here and there but you haven’t really talked about where you guys stand in terms of a relationship if you were even in one. ¨I’ll talk to your mom, kay? But as far as I’m concerned, I’m already your real dad.¨ Seiji was overly excited, his naked self clinging onto his neck, ¨Daddy, can we still eat that pudding later?¨ Samu chuckles getting out of the tub with the child in his arms, ¨Course, we can.¨ and after having a man to man conversation during bath time he officially became your son’s father.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

You were currently laying down a futon in Osamu’s office for you to sleep there tonight, he wanted to just turn it into a room but you were hesitant for some reason. You didn’t want to think of Atsumu when you are thoroughly enjoying domestic life with Samu and your son but you can’t avoid thinking of what’s going to happen once he finds out you are there with his brother. You don’t want your son to be too comfortable or to lose your apartment and then having to run away once more.

Samu sneaks in behind you, grabbing you by your hips and resting his chin on your shoulder, ¨You ain’t sleeping here tonight. Gotta talk to you about something.¨ you nodded at this, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

¨Daddy! I can’t reach the pudding is on the top shelf!¨ yells your son from the kitchen, making your eyeballs almost bulge out of their socket. He called him WHAT-, you could feel you were starting to sweat in places you normally wouldn’t but before you could succumb to panic Osamu lets go of you and heads over to aid the child like if nothing had just happened.

You stayed there in the room staring at an empty corner, trying to process what you just heard and think of a way to mend it. What if that freaks him out? Any sane person would freak out at that, what is your son thinking!! But once you were brave enough to face him, he was cuddling your son on the sofa, both eating out of a small pudding cup while watching animal planet. Nothing out of the ordinary. Was he ok with this? Is this what he wants to talk about tonight? You were sweating so much that you decided to take a cold shower and just leave it for later.

Once you got out of the bathroom you headed over to the office room to see your son was already tucked in and was just waiting for your kiss to sleep like the good boy he was. ¨Good night, mama. Daddy said you were going to sleep with him tonight.¨ he kisses your cheek, unable to contain his happiness, according to his daddy the first step to get the both of you fully settled with him would be you agreeing to sleep in his room without him in it, so he was doing his best to be brave and sleep by himself, ¨You ok with that, my love?¨ this is the first time you wouldn’t be by his side all night, it worries you. ¨I’m a big boy now! Daddy said I can have my own bed next week.¨ he nods, turning onto his side to hug his whale plushie. You had so many questions but decided not to bother your son with that, ¨That’s lovely, baby. See you in the morning, ok? You can always call me if it gets scary at night, I'll be here right away.¨ the child waves at you before closing his eyes and you head over to Samu’s room. He was waiting for you, already in bed, shirtless, making you stop by the door glaring at him while crossing your arms over your chest. ¨What?¨ he blinks at you, patting the empty side of his bed for you to come. ¨Ready much?¨ eyeing his smug expression you crawl over to your side of the bed, leaving some space between the two of you as to not get distracted by the muscle display.

¨Can you tell me what’s going on?¨ you really needed some answers. You weren’t upset just confused. ¨We had a chat during bath time. He asked me to be his real dad and I said yes.¨ he shrugs as if he was just checking the weather app. ¨Oh? Not like I have a problem with that, but shouldn’t I be part of that conversation? Last time I checked he came out of me, that comes with some rights, don’t you think?¨ you smacked his arm playfully, faking an annoyed huff. ¨You mean I should have asked you to marry me before agreeing to his terms? Cuz things can be arranged.¨ he pokes your knee, avoiding your eyes. ¨Aren’t we skipping a few steps here?¨ you giggle at his shyness, a stark contrast to how sexy he looked half naked in bed, his hair still a bit wet. ¨Oh heck no, I’ve waited too long to go to a holding hands face, (Y/N). We are both adults here and have known each other all our life, pretty sure we can skip a few of those. Don´t chicken out on me now.¨ he pulls you over to him, quickly caging you against the pillows, ¨Or do you not want me as much as I want you?¨ you could see the years of longing in his eyes. Each time he stole a kiss from you, every soft touch that lingered on for too long, you could almost feel how desperate he was. Of course you wanted him just as much, but you were scared, scared of finally having the future you always wanted, scared of having to deal with Atsumu.

¨Stop thinking about him (Y/N) please.¨ he rested his forehead on yours, heaving a deep sigh, he was trying his best this time and he feared it wasn’t coming across as intended. ¨I want this too, Samu. Always did and you know it better than anyone. But what are we going to do? He is your brother’s son. It’s much more complex than if he was just someone else’s kid.¨ you brought both of your hands to his face, gently caressing his jaw, your eyes were starting to fill up and he hated that, he won’t let him get in the way again, not this time. ¨I know, but at least for Seiji it isn’t as bad, we have the same face and he should have my last name, anyways. I know it won’t be fun dealing with Atsumu but I’m sick of losing you to him. I’ve loved you my entire life and I love this kid so much, I can’t go back to just being your best friend (Y/N).¨ you know he is right, best friends don’t kiss each other, not like that at least and definitely didn’t share a life like you two do now. ¨Ok…¨ your voice nothing but a whisper, ¨Ok what? Use your words, love.¨ he nudges your nose with his making you look into his eyes, ¨I love you too. I want to be with you. I want you to be the father of my son. If you’d have us of course.¨ you were going into shy mode again, hearing your own words, but he won’t let you, snatching your lips before you could say anything else, your hands were in his hair in a matter of seconds, his tongue invading your mouth almost immediately. You’ve never been kissed like this, it was so intense, you could feel years of bottled up feelings in each of his kisses. Shortly after, any remaining clothing items were being thrown around without a care in the world and even if you tried to tone it down for your son, he turned you into a moaning mess, like the true starved man he was. Years of fantasies turning into reality right before his eyes.

That was just the first of many to come, your son leaving so early for school every day just being a good excuse for lazy morning sex. There was no surface in the entire property that hadn’t been a victim of your repressed passion in the last few weeks.

He was unstoppable, relentless.

While Atsumu was fierce as well, the difference was quite noticeable. Atsumu was softer, long hours of love making, very vocal, mostly prompted by heavy cuddling and making out on the sofa. Samu was rough, intense, demanding, he gagged at the mention of condoms, he wanted to feel you squeeze him dry, he wanted you full to the brim with his essence. Two complete opposites.

You moved in together officially a couple of days after the initial conversation. As he promised, Seiji got a big boy bed and was fully installed now, his old office turning into a toddlers room, a shark patterned wallpaper now decorating its previously dull walls, toys and books scattered all over the floor.

Nothing much has changed for your son, he is thrilled at the fact that he fully lives with his daddy now and has his own room. But he tells everyone his name is Miya Seiji, proudly. Always handing out shop flyers to the school staff and inviting his friends to come over to his shop for the best onigiri they will ever have.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

Atsumu was currently at his parents house, he had to take the bullet train back to Tokyo that afternoon but wanted to be fed by his mother once more before leaving.

¨Take this box to your brother. I bought way too many fruits this week.¨ he nods to her, peeking inside the heavy looking box.

¨How come you never send me food packages?¨ he whines, clinging to his mother’s arm. ¨Atsumu, you come here so often, why would I send you food? I should start charging you at this point.¨ she shakes her son off of her, adding a couple of extra peaches into the box. ¨But Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, it´s so heavyyyyyy!¨ he was still sore from morning practice, not wanting anything to do with his mother’s request.

¨You will take this box to your brother today and I won't hear anything more about this. You make sure to Facetime me once you are there so I can see it.¨ she drops the box on his hands and pushes him out of the house, ¨Have a safe trip, son.¨ she kisses him goodbye and closes the door on his face before he can whine any further. Couldn’t she send the box through the mail? He grumbles all the way to the station, sending a text to his brother, letting him know he will be stopping by the shop this afternoon.

His brother however, was currently very busy all over his ex-girlfriend to notice said message.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

Tomorrow was finally the day to see your son up in the stage, shining in all his onigiri glory, so you would be closing the shop for the day. Samu wanted to take him out for dinner afterwards to celebrate.

It was a slow day, only a couple of salarymen stopping by and requesting their meals to go. Which meant your boyfriend had dragged you onto the kitchen for some snogging. His lips were currently latching onto your neck, making you squirm against the prep table when the little bell on the door rang, bringing you back to reality, Samu not really caring about the waiting customer.

What he didn’t know was that said customer was no other than his twin, annoyed at the lack of attention he was currently being given. Didn’t he hire a pretty girl for the counter? That’s what Hinata said the other day when he stopped by the shop. He was actually looking forward to being ogled over today. ¨Samuuuuuu, are you in the back? Come help me, your mother sent you a very heavy box full of food.¨ he whined loudly, making you gasp in realization, you could recognize that voice anywhere. You smacked your man lightly for him to stop his ministrations. ¨Oh god, Samu! Should I go hide somewhere in the back?¨ you whisper-yelled at him, in full panic mode.

Atsumu was growing more annoyed each second that went by in the absence of his other half. He pulled out his phone, video calling his mother, ¨Ma, I’m here look, but your other son isn’t. Can I go now? I’ll leave the box on the counter.¨ his whinny tone angering his mother. He felt something on his leg, so he looked down before his mother would start yelling, ¨Excuse me sir, are you my uncle’s twin brother?¨ the confusing question making him tilt his head to the side, the phone changing angle as well at this, leaving Seiji fully in display for his grandmother to see, that’s when you came out of the kitchen, grabbing Samu’s hat to cover your face a bit and scooped your son into your arms, running out of the shop within seconds, moving like a true ninja. This didn’t stop their mother to see you clearly though. ¨Miya Atsumu. What are you not telling me? How can you not tell your loving mother that she was finally a grandma? Don’t you know how much I’ve wanted to be one all my life? How can you be so CRUEL!!¨ he was so confused, ¨What do you mean? You are no grandma. I’ve never seen this kid in my life.¨ his tone of voice raising at the accusation, ¨You’re so dumb, sometimes I wonder who do you even take after. That was (Y/N), Atsumu. So that was your son, you know, his uncle's twin? Meaning that’s your child. MY GRANDSON! Go after her right now, if you want to still be considered my son.¨

Osamu ran out of the kitchen, stopping Atsumu from following his mother’s orders. ¨You ain’t going anywhere.¨ he could hear his mother groan, she can see the bigger picture, unlike her eldest son. ¨So she’s with you now? When were you planning on telling me I have a grandson? I can understand you not wanting the competition biting you on the butt again but I’m your mother, I have the right to be in my grandson’s life even if his dad doesn’t.¨ she was moving around the house now, in a hurry, while Atsumu was speechless, staring at the spot the child was at just a few minutes ago. ¨I’m hoping on the next train. Osamu, go after (Y/N). I want to talk with all of you as soon as I get there, she’s like my own daughter, how can she think I wouldn’t recognize her just by wearing a hat? Ridiculous.¨ truth is Atsumu didn’t recognize you, neither did he take a good look at the kid. You’ve been in his life forever, how could he not notice. Does this mean you were in fact pregnant with his child all those years ago?

¨No.¨ it’s all Osamu could say, he needed to be cautions or things would escalate quickly, he knows his family all too well. ¨Excuse me?¨ mama Miya was losing the last drop of patience in her body, her sons would be the death of her. ¨They live with me, I won’t let the child hear all this. Come tomorrow when he is in school. We have time during his morning period. Make sure to come to the shop around 8AM. Tsumu, take Ma to your place.¨ he nodded to his brother’s commands, not ready to face this whole situation just yet. ¨That’s fine. I don’t want my grandson to hate me. I’ll see you there tomorrow then.¨ she was about to hung up when her son spoke once more, ¨He has an important day tomorrow, I’m sure he would be happy to have all his family there for him. He is a great kid, bring him a gift or something.¨ her son never talks this much, is making her feel things. ¨Got it.¨ he nods and snatch the phone from his brothers hand, ending the call. He pushed Atsumu out of the shop and closed it, quickly running over to the park, he knew you’d be there.

Seiji was playing in the sand box completely unfazed by the situation, but you were crumbling on a bench. He sits by your side making you flinch at the sudden movement, ¨c’mere babe.¨ he wraps his arms around you tightly, kissing the top of your head, ¨Everything will be just fine. Ma is coming tomorrow.¨ you nodded quietly, knowing this day would come eventually. You’ve been trying to prepare yourself but were dreading having that conversation with Atsumu, it could even turn out to be worse now that your mother in law was going to be in it as well. ¨I won’t let him get in the way. I promise.¨ he kept on reassuring you, tipping your face up to meet his eyes, ¨I don’t know how to face them, Samu. How will we explain what we have right now? It was enough as it was for him to see he actually has a kid. How are we going to-¨ you hiccup in between words, sobbing onto your boyfriends chest. ¨I’ll handle this (Y/N), all you have to do is stay by my side. Everything will be ok, they will understand this, Tsumu might not like it, but he had his chance and wasted it. I didn't get in his way, its only fair he doesn't do it either this time.¨ he brushed your tears away, kissing your lips gently. ¨Lets go back home. Seiji is probably hungry.¨ you nodded, letting him drag you back to the shop with your son in his arms.

──•~❉᯽❉~•──

¨Don't forget you have to be in the school gym at noon. And don’t forget to bring the headbands!¨ your son yells out at his parents from the school bus window, both of you nodding in response and waving back at him.

Today was finally the day he’s been looking forward for so long.

You headed back inside the shop as soon as the school bus was no longer visible, you were so nervous, didn’t even touch your breakfast.

Mama Miya sent Osamu a text saying they were on the way so the both of you just stayed downstairs, Samu holding you tight, whispering sweet nothings next to your ear, his thumbs rubbing circles onto your hips as you waited for the rest.

The doorbell ringing a few minutes after. You could hear a sharp gasp almost immediately, making you press yourself deeper onto him, wanting earth to swallow you whole.

¨So that’s what you meant when you said they live here, huh? You shameless brat.¨ grumbles Atsumu, plopping onto a stray chair, staying as far away from you as possible. He’s been aware of his brother’s feelings toward his girl since forever, but somehow he thought it was over. Seeing this with his own eyes was utterly painful and he just didn’t know what to say or do.

¨(Y/N), my child. Come give me a hug.¨ the older woman headed straight to your shielding form, speaking as softly as she could, she clearly sees what’s going on and doesn’t want to aggravate the situation. You honestly missed her lots, she’s been more your mother than your birth one. She was there for you while growing up as a woman, even there for you on your first period. She was the one who taught you how to handle it, which pads to buy, she patiently answered all the awkward questions you couldn't ask your own mother about. Always showered you with love and treated you like you were her own daughter.

You let Samu go and returned her hug, a loud sob leaving your lips at her warmth. ¨It´s ok, baby girl, mama is here. You can cry all you need.¨ she rubbed your back affectionately until you calmed down, Osamu guarding your back and keeping an eye on his brother just in case. ¨Thank you for giving me such a lovely grandson, darling. He looked so healthy, I could see how well you’ve been taking care of him just by looking at his round adorable little cheeks.¨ she smiled up at you, holding both of your hands with pride, and you returned her smile in between sniffles.

Atsumu just had to say something, this situation was driving him insane, ¨So it was true. It was my baby.¨ you looked at him, nodding quietly, ¨Of course it was yours. I told you, but you wouldn't listen to anything I said. I also tried to find you again when he was born so you could see it for yourself since he looks exactly like you, but your phone number wasn’t good anymore.¨ your voice was raw, tired of crying so much, his heart being ripped out of his chest as you spoke.

¨Why did you not tell me she was pregnant, Atsumu? You never told us anything, wait until your father hears about this. Is this why Osamu broke your nose and dind't visit us in years?¨ Osamu nods, not giving Atsumu time to reply. ¨You had to raise him on your own, you are so strong, I’m so proud of you, darling.¨ her loving words were making you feel so relieved, you thought this would be very awkward and troublesome but it was actually quite comforting.

You were back in Osamu’s arms in no time, he wasn´t letting his guard down for even a second, but you weren´t feeling very well, your head was spinning and he noticed this, the back of his hand reaching over to your forehead to check if you had a fever, ¨You don’t look so good, babe.¨ he looks into your eyes, worried. ¨It's probably the stress, I’m sure you couldn’t even sleep last night, my poor child. Give her some water, son.¨ she headed over to your side and helped you on to a chair.

¨Do you not have anything to say to her, Atsumu? You just found out you have a son and I don’t see you fully grasping what’s happening.¨ you could hear the disappointment in her voice, making Atsumu grimace. ¨Don’t know what you want me to say, Ma. I do feel sorry for leaving her with such a burden on her own, but I can’t go back in time even if I wanted to. Doesn’t seem like they need me right now so yeah, I doubt they even want me here.¨ he shrugs, checking his phone while he speaks, not even sparing you a glance. His heart was hurting and seeing you in his brothers arms was aggravating to say the least.

¨Got that right.¨ Samu hands you some chilled water, standing beside you, ¨We don’t need your help. Kid's got all he needs. Don’t even think about messing around with my family.¨ he shields you from the glare Atsumu is currently throwing at the both of you for the seemingly uncalled for aggression, ¨Your family? You mean MY family, the one you stole.¨ his phone now on the table, he was trying to be patient and well behaved but he just had to go on and say it. Osamu scoffed at the sudden outburst, ¨I stole nothing, you are the one who took her away from me. YOUR family? You're nothing but a sperm donor, Tsumu. You better stay quiet, I didn't say anything when you snatched her away from me, now please stay out of the way.¨ he crouches down to take a better look at you, all color was gone from your face and you looked like you were going to be sick. ¨Ma, I think (Y/N) needs to lay down. I´ll text you the address of his school so you can go watch the play with us.¨ she was about to agree with this, both of them were about to throw a punch at each other and that would do you no good. But you got up from your seat running to the shops restroom as fast as you could, everything you had in you now down the drain.

Osamu was quickly losing his cool and mama Miya followed after you, rubbing your back, while you were still hanging from the toilet bowl, too weak to get up on your own. ¨You ok, sweetheart? Doesn't seem like you ate much for breakfast.¨ you shook your head and she helped you getting up, she noticed you scrunching up your face in pain as you bumped your breasts against the door frame. The ordeal clicking in her head quick.

Once you were back on the chair, she pulls Osamu to the side, ¨Son, please don't think I’m judging you right now. But have you two… you know….?¨ she really didn’t know how to ask this, never thought she would have to, not with Osamu at least, ¨Have we what?¨ he blinked down at his mother, noticing how you were once again running towards the restroom, grunting in distress.

¨I think she might be pregnant, son.¨

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haztory · 4 months

Text

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed.

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room.

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities.

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment.

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have.

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does.

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort.

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years.

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right.

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.”

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him.

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you.

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard.

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument.

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?”

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod.

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw.

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale.

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away.

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips.

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend.

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should.

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet.

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear. “does he touch ya like this?”

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.”

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words.

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room.

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise.

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in.

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension.

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off.

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight.

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth.

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to.

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu fic #i love a best friends trope wtf #also i promise i was writing my boss kuroo fic and then i heard this song and was derailed for THREE DAYS #BIG THANK YOU BY THE WAY TO MY BETA

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narumi-gens · 5 months

Text

The L Word

Miya Osamu x f!Reader

summary: Love makes people stupid. Osamu knows it firsthand.

warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, established relationship, love confessions, fluff with a teeny hint of angst, happy ending, small miscommunication bc Osamu is an idiot but it gets cleared up, Atsumu to the rescue, Osamu being the dumber Miya twin for a change, Osamu really goes through it in this fic but it's all okay bc you love him

notes: literally wrote this entire thing today bc Osamu just does something to me. this takes place earlier on in the Meet the Miyas couple's relationship and you don't have to read the other fics to get this one, but I sure would like you to.

words: 3.6k

part of the Meet the Miyas series

Osamu’s date with you was meant to be a quick dinner. If he was thinking more clearly, he wouldn’t have suggested seeing each other that night at all. It’s been a hectic week for the both of you and he knows that you have to catch an early morning train for a meeting out of town the next day.

But he can’t think clearly when it comes to you. Because he loves you. He doesn’t know when exactly it happened, but he knows it was probably after only a couple of dates, which he also knows is crazy.

Again, he can never think clearly when it comes to you.

It means that he’s spent the last few months in a love-induced haze of happiness as your budding relationship has progressed. It’s even been enough to dull the irritation he would normally feel at how smug Atsumu has been about being the one to set the two of you up in the first place.

Of course, none of that is on his mind now. The only thing he can currently think about is how much he doesn't want your evening together to end.

It’s a desire of his that you’re more than willing to indulge in as your time at the restaurant stretches on long past dessert. When he offers to walk you home even though you live in opposite directions, you don’t even bother to give a perfunctory protest. You merely nod with a wide grin, happily accepting the arm he wraps around your shoulders as you curl into his side.

And what began as a sweet kiss goodnight outside of your building is now bordering on something inappropriate for a public setting, even on an empty street.

Your soft lips move against his and his tongue slips into your mouth to taste you. One of your hands rests against his neck, while the other runs through his hair, making him shiver at the sensation of your fingernails gently running against his scalp. Both of his are tightly holding onto your waist, holding you as close as he possibly can so that the only thing separating you two is the clothing you both are wearing.

“Come upstairs,” you breathe as he begins to trail his lips from yours to the spot just below your ear that always has your knees feeling weak whenever he lavishes it with attention.

Unfortunately, Osamu has just enough of his sanity left to know what the responsible choice is.

“Ya need to sleep,” he murmurs against your skin before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck that makes you sharply inhale. “Yer meeting tomorrow is important. Gotta be well rested.”

“So thoughtful,” you tease as you guide his lips back to yours to give him another heated kiss, only to pause for air a moment later. “I promise. No funny business. We can just sleep.”

He can’t hold back his snort at your suggestion or his laugh when you pout at his reaction. He rests his forehead against yours, looking at you with a fond smile on his shining and slightly swollen lips.

“We never ‘just sleep’ when I come up,” he reminds you and your pout deepens.

“But I don’t want to say goodbye yet,” you tell him, and damn if his heart doesn’t ache with how full of love it is for you.

“Okay. We don’t have to say goodbye,” he agrees and your expression lights up. However, it falls as he continues to speak. “We’ll just say goodnight instead.”

“Osamu,” you whine and he presses a soft kiss to your lips before you can say anything else.

“Goodnight,” he says.

When you open your mouth again, he gives you another smiling kiss.

“Goodnight.”

You open your mouth again, a smile of your own tugging at your lips, which he kisses again.

He loves you.

“Goodnight.”

You playfully open your mouth as you pretend to say something. He kisses you.

He loves you.

“Goodnight.”

Another attempt on your part to protest. Another kiss to silence you.

He loves you.

“Goodnight.”

Your mouth opens. He gives you a kiss.

He loves you.

“I love you.”

He freezes, but not because he’s accidentally spoken the words that have been on his mind these past months.

It’s because the words don’t come out in his voice. They come out in yours.

His eyes snap open to find you gazing up at him with a small hint of nervousness, but otherwise nothing but pure affection and fondness and love. It’s everything he’s been dreaming of — literally. He has literally been dreaming about this exact scenario.

But in his dreams, he gently murmurs that he loves you in return and softly runs his thumb along the apple of your cheek. The two of you then kiss beneath the first soft snowflakes of winter or the floating spring cherry blossoms or a drizzle of summer rain.

Reality is much worse. Because in his shock and disbelief, all he can do is open and close his mouth, struggling to put all of his joy and excitement and love in return into words. And the longer the silence stretches on, the touch of hesitation that was initially present on your face slowly begins to morph into sheer horror.

Your embarrassment is visible at his lack of a response and when you force out a small, self-conscious laugh, he knows that you’re regretting ever speaking those three beautiful words aloud.

“Sorry,” you wince and a cold shard of ice pierces his heart.

No, no, no. Don’t apologize. Never apologize. Not for loving him. Not when he loves you, too.

You clumsily try to extricate yourself from his hold and he’s too wrapped up in his own mortification over how stupid he is that he easily lets you.

“I don’t…s-sorry!”

Your voice breaks as you stumble over your unnecessary apology and even while you refuse to meet his gaze, he can see how quickly your eyelashes are fluttering as you try to blink back the tears that he’s caused.

“Night, Osamu,” you manage to say through a soft sniffle before hurrying towards the steps of your building.

The only thing worse than the panic and anger that he’s feeling towards himself is whatever it is that you’re feeling. You opened yourself up to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and trusting that he would keep your heart safe.

And he was too much of an idiot to be able to offer his own heart in return.

He just needs to get the words out. Just get the words out.

Just get the fuckin’ words out, ya big fuckin’ pussy.

Relief floods through his veins when he’s finally able to blurt your name as he calls after you. He can fix this. He can tell you that he loves you and that he was just so elated that he was physically incapable of putting any words together.

You stop, your foot on the bottom step as you turn towards him. While your eyes are shining with tears, he can also the hope in them as you silently plead with him to continue.

A deep breath releases from his lungs. He hasn’t ruined it yet. You’re willing to listen to him. You’ll give him a chance to make things right and prove to you that he deserves you. He’s so fucking grateful to you.

“Thank you!”

He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Maybe a car will pass by and run him over. Could he be lucky enough for a freak thunderstorm and to be struck by lightning? When nothing happens, he contemplates dropping to his knees and banging his head repeatedly against the concrete sidewalk.

All of it would feel better than watching how quickly he’s shattered the last remaining pieces of hope that you were desperately clinging onto. You stay still just long enough for him to see your lower lip tremble before you dart up the stairs of your building.

And because of how the stupid apartment buildings in this country are designed, he gets a perfect view of you racing up the exterior staircase and then towards your apartment, pausing only to unlock the door, which then slams loudly shut behind you. The sound echoes through the quiet street, reverberating against the pavement and buildings, but also in his mind.

Osamu takes a slow, deep breath and holds it before exhaling. He then buries his face his hands, his fingers tugging at his hair, and lets out an unintelligible scream that’s filled with a nauseating mixture of frustration and embarrassment. The noise is louder than the slamming of your door and a dog starts to bark in the distance.

In a daze, he somehow manages to make it to his bus stop. Likewise, his phone is now somehow held up against his ear. And somehow, Atsumu’s screeching voice answers on the other end.

“Thank you?” he greets angrily and Osamu loudly groans as he slumps forward so far that his head is practically between his knees. “My best friend, the woman yer totally in love with, says she loves ya and all ya can do is thank her?”

“I was just so excited, I couldn’t think straight. I’m a fuckin’ idiot. I know, okay?” he mumbles. He hears a bus pull up to the curb but he’s too distraught to even look up and see if it’s his as he lets it pass. “She already told ya?”

“She’s on the other fuckin’ line right now, crying because of you, ya scrub,” Atsumu bites back and somehow, after everything that’s happened in the past ten minutes, Osamu manages to feel even worse.

There’s a long pause and his guilt and mortification must be so bad that his brother can hear it through the phone because Atsumu gives a sigh of pity.

“Look, just make it right. We share the same DNA. Ya must have gotten a little bit of my ability to be romantic.”

In any other situation, Osamu would scoff and roll his eyes. But right now, he doesn’t have the right to make fun of anyone, not even his twin. Instead, he simply nods even though Atsumu can’t see it over the call.

“Can ya find out what time her train gets in tomorrow?” he asks pitifully.

“Okay, sure,” the setter offers before sighing again. “I gotta go.”

“Yeah, don’t keep her waitin’.”

He wonders if you know that it’s him Atsumu is talking to. You must. But Atsumu is a pretty good liar, much better than Osamu anyway. He’s had plenty of practice lying over every little thing under the sun since they were young. Surely, he can convince you that it was a teammate or his agent or anyone else but the man responsible for your distress.

“Same goes for you, Samu,” Atsumu warns him, but there’s at least a gentle undertone of sympathy in his voice that he probably only extends because they shared a womb.

“Thanks,” he says, feeling truly grateful to his brother in a way he hasn’t felt since he set the two of you up.

“I think ya said that enough tonight, ya scrub.” Atsumu then ends the call and Osamu’s gratitude dwindles.

But Atsumu does come through for him, texting him the information on your train, which Osamu reacts to with a mere thumbs up, knowing that any form of thanks will have him being called a scrub for the third time that night.

The next day, Osamu closes the shop early. It’s for the better as he keeps getting orders wrong and has to offer so many discounts in apology that if he stayed open any later, he would probably end the day at a loss.

His mind has been so preoccupied that there’s no room left in it for onigiri. All he’s been able to think about is his plan to make it up to you. He’ll go home and change into his nicest suit. He’ll go to the florist and buy the nicest bouquet they have. He’ll stop by the bakery near your apartment on the way and order a slice of your favorite cake.

And then you’ll come home to find him waiting for you outside of your building, where he’ll give you the speech he spent all day on. He’ll tell you how sorry he is and explain how much of an idiot he was and tell you that of course, he loves you. He’s even written down exactly what he wants to say on an order sheet from the restaurant so he doesn’t forget a word.

But apparently, the universe has decided that it wants to laugh even more at his expense.

Everything starts smoothly. Despite not having worn it in over a year, his suit fits as perfectly as it did when he bought it. And after a quick iron, it looks like he just picked it up from the dry cleaner. When he arrives at the flower shop, the kindly older woman working there helps him make a custom bouquet filled with flowers that all represent some form of love and apology.

It’s at the bakery where things start to go wrong.

First, it’s so late in the afternoon that the display window is picked clean over. Your favorite cake has sold out entirely and all that’s left are a variety of croissants, donuts, and croquettes. He stupidly decides to buy a donut anyway, because although the image of him giving you a donut is much less romantic, he’s always believed that food is the best way to show you care about someone.

Then, just as he’s finished paying and in his rush to make sure he gets to your apartment before you do, he runs right into a teenager holding a bright green melon soda, which spills all over the front of his clean, white dress shirt. The girl gasps in horror and immediately begins to apologize, repeatedly bowing as she offers him the napkins in her hand.

However, he knows it was his fault and that he can’t make another girl cry in less than 24 hours. He assures her that she wasn’t to blame and after patting his shirt dry to the best of his ability, he buys her a new drink and then helps the employee clean up the spill. He leaves the bakery with a squished donut and an obscenely green, large stain on his shirt.

And of course, he gets one block away from the bakery when it starts to rain. It’s not the soft, romantic drizzle that he’s imagined might color such an important moment in your relationship. It’s a true downpour that has people ducking into stores and under doorways. For just a moment, he considers stopping at a konbini and buying an umbrella but he’s already drenched and when he sees how long the line is, he decides that it wouldn’t be worth it if he has to miss you.

It’s another block away from the konbini that the bag holding the donut breaks, dropping the baked good into the gutter where it’s quickly washed away by the rainwater. As he looks at the soggy remains of the bag in his hand, he decides not to worry about it and shoves the mess into his pocket. The flowers are enough on his own.

The flowers, which he’s just now realizing aren’t in his hand and weren’t with him at the bakery. The flowers that he remembers setting down on the bench at the bus stop but doesn’t remember picking back up when he got onto the bus.

The voice in his head is frantic as it tries to assure him that everything is fine. If you really love him then you don’t need flowers or baked goods or him in a dry, unstained suit. You’ll love him just as he is when you find him waiting to greet you after a long day.

He’s thankful that the sound of rain falling is loud enough to mask the panicked, high-pitched whine he lets out when he turns the corner onto your block to find that you’ve beaten him to your place and are already standing on the bottom step of your building’s staircase, protected from the rain as you shake the worst of the water from your dripping umbrella.

There’s the smallest part of him that wants to just go back home and hide beneath the blankets like he used to do after losing a volleyball match.

But then, without his consent, your name leaves his lips and his feet begin moving on their own to meet you. You freeze mid-umbrella shake and look up at him in shock, clearly not having expected him, and definitely not in this state if the way your eyes widen is anything to go by.

Your senses come back to you quicker than his did to him last night and you open your umbrella back up and rush out to meet him, hurrying to finally protect him from the rain.

“Osamu, what are you doing? It’s pouring,” you say with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. You look him over from head to toe and frown. “Why are you so green? You look like you spilled a melon soda all over your shirt.”

It’s okay. He still has his speech. He’ll win you over with his words. Whether it was volleyball or opening his own restaurant, when has he ever given up?

Instead of answering you, he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out the order slip. He’s relieved that it’s held up better than the bakery bag and vows to keep buying order pads from the same supplier for the rest of his life.

At least until he unfolds the paper and finds that the ink he wrote in has run because of the rain that soaked through his jacket. His shoulders sag as he sighs in defeat.

“Osamu?” you ask with a timidness he hasn’t heard from you before and it’s enough to snap him from his own wallowing. His idiocy left you in tears last night.

The flowers, the suit, the pastry, the speech, this entire big, grand gesture he was trying to make all boil down to one thing.

“I love ya,” he says and it feels so good to finally be able to say the words aloud to you for the first time. It feels like a weight has been lifted from his chest, leaving room for how big his heart has grown with all the love it holds for you. “I’m so sorry about last night. I’ve been in love with ya since, like, our third date but I knew I’d seem crazy if I said it that early. And when ya said it first, I just couldn’t believe it and I was so stupidly happy that I just couldn’t say anything.”

Now that he’s started talking, the words won’t seem to stop. But from the way you’re looking up at him with so much warmth and affection and love, he doesn’t think you want him to.

“And then I started to panic because I couldn’t say anything, which made it harder to say anything else. So, I came up with this big plan to win ya back with flowers and cake and a big speech but literally everything went wrong.”

“Osamu,” you try to gently interrupt him, but by this point, he couldn’t hold anything in even if he wanted to.

“I forget yer flowers at the bus stop and the bakery was out of cake. Then I almost made this teenager cry so I had to make that right. And of course, this fuckin’ monsoon had to sweep in outta nowhere. And my speech got all ruined, too,” he complains, holding out the order sheet for you to see the proof.

“Osamu,” you try again. Only he’s too wrapped up now in this bizarre, stream-of-consciousness monologue to even take in the adoring way that you’re looking at him.

“If it was gonna rain, couldn’t it at least have been a soft, romantic type of rain? But I guess nothing says romance like a flash flood warning. It’s a good thing ya live on a higher floor with how much it’s comin’ down,” he continues. “All this little love confession is missing are some warning sirens—”

“You love me?”

The question finally shuts him up. But it’s a different kind of silence than the one from last night. Because you look so utterly happy as the three words occupy the space between you. His own expression softens and he crumples up the paper in his hand before shoving it into his pocket.

His hand now free, he tenderly cups your face and presses the softest, sweetest kiss to your lips as the rain continues to come down in sheets around you, only your small travel-size umbrella keeping you both safe.

As his lips part from yours, he rests his forehead on yours, an almost mirror image how you two were wrapped up in each other last night.

“Yeah, I love ya,” he whispers as he affectionately brushes his nose against yours. You smile back at him and his heart pounds with excitement at hearing you repeat the sentiment back to him.

But then, your eyes begin to sparkle mischievously as they always do when you tease him.

“Thank you,” you say and he thinks he’s somehow managed to fall even further in love with you.

#miya osamu x reader #miya osamu #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu fic #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #miya osamu fluff #osamu fluff #mel writes #meet the miyas #the l word

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emmyrosee · 28 days

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ONG OMG OMG CLOTHES SHOPPING WITH SAMU AND SHOWING HIM ALL UR OUTFITS WHILE HE SISTS AND COMPLIMENTS U AND AHHHHH 😍

“Okay. That one’s my favorite.”

You roll your eyes and snicker as his eyes glaze up and down your body, a smile on his face while he soaks you all in. “They’ve all been your favorite, baby,” you remind him.

“I can’t help that you look good in everything,” he scoffs, leaning his elbows on his knees. "What, are you saying I shouldn't be grateful for dating a goddess? You're out of your mind."

Your cheeks are blazed from his words and your mind swirls, how he’s so sweet and the best at hyping you up keeping your heart pounding in your chest. Osamu’s always had the way to make you melt into a pile of mush, though doing it in public so boastfully is definitely new.

“I think I’ve got one more,” you assure, stepping back k into the dressing room.

“I miss you,” he calls.

“I miss you more,” you return, and you pick up the final article of clothing- a short, tight dress, one you snuck in when he was looking at men’s shoes so he’d never get a peek before seeing it adorning your body.

It slips on and fits like a glove.

You’re pretty sure you saved the best for last.

You smirk at your reflection as your hands smooth down the dress, giving yourself a little spin in the wide mirrors. You sigh softly, happily, and you hear him chuckle, “don’t leave me in suspense, come on now.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for me,” you challenge.

You hear him scoff, “oh, I’m ready for you.”

You’re quick to fiddle with the lock and open the door, revealing yourself for the nth time today.

This time, however, his jaw drops. His eyes widen and they shamelessly take you all in, and the smirk that starts to spread is captured by his teeth as he sinks his them into the fat of it. His body tightens, and he lets out a small sigh through his nose, a small hand coming up to card his hair back.

“Holy fuck.”

“Osamu!” You giggle. “Dont say that!”

“You look… divine, momma,” he exhales, dropping his hand and resting it on his knee. “I was full of it before- this one’s my favorite.”

“Yeah?” You mewl, using your index finger to beckon him closer, and as if tranced, he stands up and makes his way to you, hands immediately reaching out to rest on your hips. “You like it that much?”

“I love it, angel face,” he confesses, his eyes shining with adoration and complete obsession. “If you get nothing from today- which you absolutely should- get the dress. For me.”

“For you?”

He chuckles, “yeah. Wanna look at you in it forever.”

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wttcsms · 1 month

Text

switchin' the positions for you, osamu miya

pairing osamu miya x f!reader word count 2k synopsis osamu miya says you've got a lot to learn, rookie, and he's more than happy to teach you. content contains creampie, pet names (baby, good girl), slight praise kink (reader receiving), fwb to lovers, multiple positions, tennis player!reader author's notes to the requester: you know who you are, girl. give the masses (me) what i want: you to become a writer!!!

“Fuck.” Osamu hisses out the word like it burns to have it escape through his gritted teeth. “D’ya like that, baby?”

You can’t give him a coherent answer; it’s kind of hard to hold a conversation with him when he’s got you sitting all snug on his lap, cockhead hitting that special sensitive spot of yours that you never knew you had until you start your little arrangement with him. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s the only person capable of reducing you to a hot, whiny mess but when you instinctually tighten up around his cock, he lets out a soft, smug laugh.

His warm breath tickles your ear when he leans down to tell you, “Told ya I’d teach you a thing or two.”

You try to tilt your head back so your eyes can meet his. You don’t like looking up to people, but Osamu is just so big. You’re sitting on him, pussy clamping down on his fat cock that’s buried snugly inside of you, your back pressed against his muscular chest. The man owns a restaurant; surely hauling all those massive rice bags couldn’t have possibly given him this figure. You want to make a face, let him know that his “I told you so” is not appreciated, but when he makes eye contact with you, he gives you a smirk — a warning. A split second later, he thrusts up, and you can’t hold back your moan.

He did that on purpose, you think to yourself. He’s always baiting you, always waiting for the right moment to catch you off guard. You’re a favorite to win the Japan’s Women’s tennis tournament; no one catches you off guard.

But when you’re out on the road, traveling with your team, and your starvation-induced tantrum leads to your coach making a pitstop to some hole-in-the-wall restaurant named Onigiri Miya, you learn that it is possible for someone to trip you up.

“So you’re the girl with the killer serve,” is what he says the first time he’s taking your order. “You don’t look like much of a killer to me.”

You’re pissed, hungry, and still upset over hearing the men’s team talk about how you look good in your skirt and should consider modeling for Sports Illustrated instead of trying to make it big in tennis. You’re frowning when you tell him, “Are you the owner of this restaurant?”

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t look like much of a restaurant to me.” In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t be rude to the man handling your food.

“It’s up and coming.” He says, eyes looking you up and down in a way that makes you suddenly very, very hyper aware of how fitted your top and how short your skirt is. He’s not ogling you; he’s sizing you up. Like you’re a challenge. “It’ll look it soon enough.”

You like a good challenge.

When you come back the next week, high off your victory, you walk through the doors of Onigiri Miya, smug and prideful.

The feeling intensifies whenever he tells you he saw your game, but you’re immediately dissatisfied when he hits you with a, “Ya still got a lot to learn, though.”

Your first lesson? Taking three of his thick fingers knuckle-deep in your pussy as your back is pressed against the wall of the storage room of Onigiri Miya. There’s only one single light bulb flickering in the darkness of the pantry, but you don’t focus on that. Instead, you focus on the searing heat from between your thighs, too eager to chase after pleasure to care about the fact that you’re so wet, you can hear every thrust.

You’re so close to cumming, you find yourself moving your hips upwards, trying to bring yourself to release even faster. He immediately stops his ministrations, making an annoyed sound of clear disapproval.

“You need to learn how to stop bein’ so damn greedy.” His words come out as a raspy whisper, and when your walls involuntarily clench around his fingers, there’s a small noise that seems to come from the back of his throat. He’s holding himself back.

Somehow, the fact that you have a strong effect on him as well makes you so pleased, you find yourself gripping his shoulder as you disobediently grind against his fingers yourself, letting out a loud whine as you cum all over his hand.

With heated cheeks and heavy breathing, you let Osamu Miya know that being greedy is what makes you such a star player. You don’t get by with just taking what’s given to you; everything, from points on the court to a more-than-satisfactory orgasm, is yours for the taking.

You don’t expect him to just smile at your prideful remark, and you certainly don’t expect him to remove his fingers from you, hold them up to the light so you can both admire the way his index, middle, and ring fingers are glistening with your juices, before he licks the pads of them.

Is the room heating up? Did the air conditioning suddenly break? You feel hotter than usual as you watch the vulgar display, and you should be ashamed of the way your knees are already weak from hitting your climax, ashamed of the way you have to press your thighs together so he doesn’t catch the way you’re already anticipating a round two.

“Have a taste, baby.” He’s grinning, smiling like the damn devil himself, as he extends his hand, brings the tips of his fingers to your lips. You shake your head no, not trusting yourself to speak.

He pretends to sound disappointed. “No?” Then with a shrug and a smug more for me then, he licks the rest of your essence off of his fingers.

“I could go for a second helping.”

The sentence barely leaves his mouth before you find yourself parting your thighs to welcome him back.

Through the course of three months, you find yourself being taught various lessons from Osamu. He teaches you to mind your manners and refuses to fuck into you, choosing to tease you with the head of his cock instead.

“Not gonna fuck ya ‘til you say please.”

Like with your tennis matches, it all boils down to a game of stamina. Who can hold out the longest? His tip is wet and sticky with pre, and you can catch every hitch of his breath as he rubs against your clit. You’re soaking through his bedsheets, his bed being the only comfortable piece of furniture he has in his “work in progress” of a bachelor pad.

He practices breathing exercises with you when he pushes himself as far as your little throat can take him. Drool will be dribbling out the corners of your swollen lips, and he has your hair bunched up in a makeshift ponytail, strands sloppily wrapped around his hand as he watches you try to take all of him in your mouth.

“You gotta breathe through your nose, baby. Atta girl, that’s my good girl.”

He teaches you that you like praise.

He’s more observant than you realize. You can tell from the way he recaps and analyzes your matches with you after a particularly rough game, and you can tell from the way he’ll notice if the way he has you bent over the kitchen counter is uncomfortable for you. He knows you like the way he gives it to you hard, sloppy, messy. You have a meticulous training routine, every aspect of your life reduced to a bullet point on an itinerary from your personal coach.

It makes sense that his sloppy kisses, the ones that leave your lips swollen, the ones that are less than kisses and more of just messy exchanges of spit, are your favorites. You like being reduced to a wet, boneless, fucked out little mess, and you like it because it’s all coming from him. He has a business to tend you, and you have a professional athletic career, and yet, the world is reduced to his barebones apartment bedroom. No tennis matches, no food truck deliveries to worry about.

Just your back pressed against his chest, the thin material of your athletic tanktop and his tight fitted compression shirt doing nothing to stop the searing exchange from both of your bodies’ heat.

“Told ya I’d teach you a thing or two.”

All you can do is close your eyes and lose yourself to the overwhelming pleasure of having him buried to the hilt inside of you.

“You’re so good for me, ya know that?” You like the way he grunts out the words, punctuating each word with a thrust that has you clinging to his forearm, both of his hands wrapped tightly around your stomach so you can stay still, stay easily accessible for him. “You’re not just my good girl, you’re my best girl.”

You let his words of praise soak you to the bone. You’re letting out desperate, high-pitched, needy whines, and there’s no more holding back on his end. He’s fucking into you with the stamina and strength that rivals some athletes.

You finish first; you always do. You tried, once, to get him to cum before you, but once he caught on to your little scheme, he stretched your body, had your legs folded and sore as he fucked into you almost angrily, like getting him off before you have is something he takes personal offense to.

He’s addicted to watching you cum. The way you can’t control your body, your tight, always stressed out body that only seems able to relax when he’s smothering you, his body heat getting lost and mixed up with yours. You fit so perfectly against him, under him, on top of him. When you cum, you tilt your head back, resting against his shoulder. Your eyes look dazed, almost like you’re unable to see straight, but he stares at you, smiling as he realizes that every time you cum, you can’t help but search for him.

When he finishes inside of you, you think you’re close to cumming again. The rush of hot, thick heat flooding your now-sloppy insides has you whining so cutely, he almost wants to start fucking into you again. But he doesn’t. Instead, he lets you rest, gives you a minute to catch your breath.

“I don’t normally do this, y’know.” He sounds a bit out of breath, and it fills you with deep satisfaction to know that you’re capable of having this effect on him. It’d be embarrassing to be beat in a contest of stamina when you’re the professional athlete here.

“So you’ve said.”

Osamu is busy with his business, and you’re busy with tennis. The two of you know that there’s not a lot of room for a relationship, but the two of you are also well aware of the fact that there’s something more to this than just good sex. It’s obvious in the way he holds you, and it’s obvious in the way you let him. He wants to cook you good food and to meet his mother, and you want him at all your games, to dedicate your victory speeches to him.

“I wanna do this right.” And he’s so sincere when he says it that it makes your heart flutter, gives you the unfamiliar sensation of butterflies in your tummy. “I wanna take you out on dates and for you to meet my family.”

“I’ve never been in a relationship.” You admit this to him, even though he already knows. “So, I wouldn’t know what’s the ‘right’ way to go about it, anyway.” You peer up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “But you promised you’d teach me a thing or two.”

“Yeah?” The word comes out breathless, full of anticipating, wanting, hope.

“And I think I really don’t mind being taught every once in a while.”

#osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu x reader #osamu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #one shot #imagine #drabble

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