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miya-rin · 1 year

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"i can't believe you got in a fight.”

“he hit me first, you just expect me to stand there and take that?"

a small chuckle leaves his mouth at your choice of words, standing between you parted legs osamu has been patching you up after a ‘small mishap’ with one of your classmates.

"obviously not, its just…" his voice trails off as he rummages around in the first aid kit until he finds an alcohol wipe, gently tearing it open before swiping it across your cheek, you wince in discomfort and he gives you an apologetic look. "sorry — its just, you're not really the type to hit someone, like i know you can defend yourself but cmon, you knocked him out."

"deserved."

"you really are something else." he laughs as he starts to dig around to find something else to slather over your face.

"thankyou."

"not a compliment."

“i'm gonna take it as one."

"i knew you would."

"yeah yeah whatever, you would have done the same.”

“oh yeah totally.” he picks up a tube of antibacterial cream and gently starts to apply it to the cut on your cheek, making sure to be extra careful as to not put too much.

“thankyou by the way.” he tilts his head up to look you in the eye for a split second before focusing back on the cream in his hand.

"hm?"

"for cleaning me up and that, thankyou."

"yeah well you probably wouldn't have, the blood would just be dried up all over your hands and face.”

"oh shut up," you let out a light laugh and by god you sound amazing "i'm not that bad."

"sure, whatever you say.”

the room elopes in silence — comfortable silence, the kind where you're not too worried if someone speaks or not, and yet you do.

"say, how long have you been dying your hair?"

"oh, i'm not sure, wh-" his words are cut short as he feels your hands snake up his undercut and into the dyed strands atop his head. shit he thinks, he so badly wants to look up at you, but he knows that if he does he won't be able to look away.

"it's really soft, what conditioner do you use? it must be good for it to not be completely dead."

"yeah." he stutters slightly, but just enough that you might not have been able to hear it. god he hopes you didn't hear it.

he still doesn't answer your question, staying quiet for a good minute or so before you decide to take action. gently tugging at his hair, an indication for him to look at you, he puts down whatever he was fiddling with and his eyes meet yours. they're a lot wider than normal, he almost looks scared, but from the dusting of pink spread across his cheeks you can tell it's something different. hes nervous.

“osamu, did you hear me?” the way you’re lightly scratching at his scalp turns him to putty in your hands. “i asked you a question.”

“uhm..i started dying it when i was like 13? so about 5 years now. and whatever conditioner my ma brings home.” you hum in approval as you continue to mess around with his hair.

“you know…i should probably finish bandaging you up.” he makes a start at grabbing some plasters to put over your bruised and bloody knuckles, avoiding eye contact even harder than before.

“wow, you wanna get rid of me that quickly? youre cold osamu.”

thats gets him to look at you.

“i never said that.”

“dont act dumb now, i heard you loud and clear.”

“youre putting words in my mouth.”

“oh so you’re accusing me now? this isnt the osamu i know and love.” as soon as that last word falls from your lips osamu burns a crimson red from his face to his neck and probably lower, choking on his spit and trying to catch his breath. if only you had your phone on you.

“you what?” he can finally speak by the looks of it.

“i love you. dont act like you didnt know.”

“yn, tell me youre joking.”

“are you rejecting me right now? thats a mean way to do it dont you think?”

“are you kidding me? ive had a crush on you since we were 15.”

“i know, why dont you do something about it?” you say with a sly smirk. he still looks on edge at the whole interaction, but theres no time like the present.

he lifts up his large and calloused hands to grab both sides of your face before bringing you into a sweet but passionate kiss, it doesnt last long as you are both conscious of the fact that anyone could walk into the schools medical room, but it is just enough to leave you both satisfied after years of pining. pulling away you are met with that boyish smile you fell in love with all those years ago.

“now that i think about it, im kinda glad you got into that fight…”

“so am i.”

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taeyamayang · 1 year

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previously on FMY / NAVIGATION

A KEEN EYE FOR THE POPULAR KID

six years ago

you are used to be being invisible, well, not entirely unseen and isolated but perhaps someone insignificant. it may sound a bit depressing but it's the truth and honestly you don't mind. you have your own circles. they're unproblematic and would rather stray from the difficult world of youngsters. they are enough to keep your high school days bearable; you couldn't wish for more.

actually, there is something you wish you can do before you finally leave the walls of your alma mater and your friends hope for the same thing for youㅡto come out of your shell.

your friends have always been your greatest supporters. they believe in your capabilities and talents and to them there is nothing more that could make them happier than seeing their friend bloom in a way they deserve.

hence, when the auditions for the charity theater to be held in school opened, with one of your closest knit as the producer of the play, your friends won't take "no" for an answer.

"you have to at least try." one would say.

"but try with the mindset of taking a spot on stage." the other specifies.

their words of encouragement seemed to work as when the day finally arrives, you did quite well. today, rumors has it that the heads are giving out love letters. these are letters contain the results of the auditions.

it isn't the ideal time and location to open the letter given to you as you are sitting amongst your classmates next to the gym. today is the second day of the sports event. as you have taken a chance to take a part in the play, you also upped your game in your "coming out of your shell" project by taking the lead as the captain of the relay team. take the lead? scratch that. it's not like you volunteered. you were forced by your classmates to agree on taking the responsibility. they pawned you as their captain and your bad habit of not saying no leads you here.

well, at least this helps you build your self-confidence, you thought.

hence, here you are, sitting with class 1-A with faces whom you have never considered as friends; among them are a few who belong to your group of friends. in your hands is the love letter from the production team. your classmates are ogling at the paper in your hands, eager to know the fruit of your secret practices. they watch your trembling digits rip the envelop.

"congratulations on passing the auditions! we would like to meet with yo-" you were immediately cut off when your friends suddenly cheered in delight.

"i knew you'd make it!" your friend shakes you by your shoulders.

"we finally have one talented friend in our group. now, we don't suck as much." the other dramatically and sarcastically announces.

but an all too familiar voice from a person whom you would rather forget joins in. without a warning, his body collides with you. his arms draped over your shoulder and his face too close to your liking.

"we both made it." his smile sends buckets of cold water over your head.

huh?

"Ryuusei..." you managed to utter his name.

"Ryuusei? call me Rei! it's not like we're strangers, aren't we?" he winks and it takes great strength in you to keep your composure and not push him away. you don’t want to make a scene especially not in front of some of his friends.

“i thought you’re going for the creatives team?” you keep a fair distance by turning your face slightly to the side.

“i changed my mind. i’m also one of the casts now just like you. we’re going to work together.” your stomach twists in a manner similar to when he last held you.

a couple of hurried steps save you from your position. it appears to be one of your classmates who had finished a match they participated in.

“you’re on the next game, (y/n).” the quick save from them manages you to untangle his arms around your neck.

“i need to go.” you push yourself up from the ground. you swallow thickly, glancing at him for the last time. “congrats.” you half heartedly say before running towards the lawn.

after the incident with ryuusei and as you wait for the next match, you read the details typed on the congratulatory love letter. the first meeting is set this afternoon at the multipurpose hall of your school. learning about ryuusei being part of the cast washes off the bubbling excitement you had when you first learned about being part of the cast. now, you’re just worried about bumping into him and his peers and feeling left out in a swarm of new faces.

---

the time has come and you’re on your way to the hall. all expectations are lowered and your mindset is set to getting this over with. you made scheme to stand in the farthest corner of the backstage (the exact location of the meeting) where ryuusei would least likely to stand.

he loves being the center of attention, making scenes or befriending every soul in the room as if he’s marking his name on everyone’s mind. he wasn’t like this before, at least not how you used to perceive him. he was special to you but you have come to realize that some people change for the worse when they get wind by the fact that you treat them special.

“is this the meeting for the play?” a man next to you snaps you from your thoughts.

“yes.” you respond as you tilt your head up to gaze at him.

he’s tall, built like someone who looks after their physical look. he is clad in a purple shirt and a pair of jersey shorts. the color of his shirt lets you know that he does not belong to class A of any level. his face hints a mellow and kind personality but with the way his brow twitches up as his eyes scan the script in his hand gives off mischief.

you have not seen him before although it’s not like you know everyone in school.

“are you a cast?” you ask. the room gradually gets louder as more students come in.

“yes.” he says without turning his head .

“a lead role?” you inquire further.

“no, no. i’m too shy for that.” he finally turns to look at you. your eyes instantly locks with a pair of deep blue and gray like a galaxy stirred into his orbs. he looks pretty and it’s probably the reason why you unguardedly asked about being one of the leads.

“i’m (y/n) and yours?” a smile adorns your face, a complete opposite from his. he blinks at you twice, or thrice, like he is beyond confused of what you said.

“your name?” you repeat your question, asking in a slower tone. he seemed to realize the face he was showing as he immediately shakes his head.

“oh, uh, yeah, right. right, my name.” he stammers. is he really shy? it wasn’t a joke?,��you think to yourself. and when you thought you’re the most reserved person here, you meet this pretty boy.

“Miya Osamu.” he smiles.

“Miya.” you feel the syllables of his name on your tongue. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Miya.”

as if you have done something extraordinary again, the boy, Miya, rounds his eyes at you.

“y-you don’t know m-” he stops mid sentence when he notices that you’re naive. he puffs out air, amused with whatever he had realized. nonetheless, a teeth showing grin stretches across his face, a more genuine one in comparison to the prior. “nevermind. it’s nice to meet you, (y/n).”

the backstage is crammed with people, casts, production, committees, and heads. on top of that are the props covered in dust that takes up majority of the space. as your eyes darts from one unfamiliar face to the other, your vision catches a person you dread to see and tailed with him is his peers.

way to make it worse.

“here they are.” you impassively say, huffing out air in frustration. for a moment, you forgot about the boy within earshot.

“who?” he asks.

“hm, how do i say it.” you bite on the insides of your cheeks as you fish for the right words to describe them, eyes still on the back of ryuusei. “ah, the popular kids.”

“popular kids?” osamu lowers the script to focus on you.

“yeah, the reason why gerard way and others wrote the song teenager.”

“is that a ‘my chemical romance’ reference?” a soft chuckle escapes from his lips.

“sure, call me emo or whatever you want.” you curl your lips at him, eyes expressionless as ever as he finally breaks into a laugh.

“no, you got the wrong idea. i listen to them it’s just that i find your reference funny. that’s all.”

“but it’s the truth.” you turn to stare at ryuusei enjoying the attention of strangers. so typical of him.

“sounds like you have grudges.” osamu follows your eyes.

“i have valid reasons.” you counter.

a person behind him came rushing in therefore accidentally bumping into his shoulder. the girl apologizes to him and instead of looking at her like a normal person would, osamu turns his head to the other direction as he hides his face from her before gesturing that “it’s fine”. you find it odd at first but reasoned out that maybe he’s just shy, as he claims to be.

“you can mingle with them if you want because i’d rather not, just letting you know that i won’t take a single step from my spot.” at least not until ryuusei is gone. you don’t have the energy to deal with him again. once a day is enough.

“you hate popular kids that much?”

“oh, you bet.” you click your tongue at him as if it emphasizes your point. osamu smiles but the corners of his lips did not meet with his eyes.

“i’ll stay here with you.” he says.

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dawnsing · 2 years

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after-training shenanigans

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanart #hq art #hq comic #haikyuu!!#hq #hq fanart #inarizaki #suna rintarou #miya twins #miya osamu #miya atsumu #pokemon #hq suna #hq miya osamu #hq miya atsumu #my art #silicobra’s Japanese name is sunahebi btw #and suna reminds me of abra

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tamaragarloart · 2 years

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ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝔹'𝔻𝕒𝕪🎈🎂🦊 【 ℍ𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 】

I love these twins 😤🤌🏼 They stole my heart the first time I saw them (along with Kita 🫶🏼) 😩💖💞

aaaaah lmp I forgot to post it here on his birthday 🙏🏼😭😭

I also hope you like my version of the Miya in their timeskip versions 💗💞

* I made this fanart for Kita's birthday 🤗

I'm not used to drawing chibis/little kids but I really enjoyed the experience ✨

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reineydraws · 7 months

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i googled twin tshirts for these clowns' birthday and found a funny set 😂

sending a good hbd to my fave fictional twins 🎂🎂🎂

#miya twins #miya atsumu #miya osamu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanart #comic #hq comic #hq atsumu #hq osamu #hq!! fanart #haikyuu #haikyuu!! fanart #if ur wondering abt the last panel: osamu and gin are holding down tsumu's arms so he doesnt cross them and cover the text #sunarin is taking the picture and aran is behind him facepalming.#i have no patience so im posting this now even tho i double-posted like 10 hrs ago lol :') hbd to the miyansssss

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kitashousewife · 2 months

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“sorry ‘samu, i hadn’t gotten to those yet,” you sigh, looking at the now folded stacks of his clean laundry you had placed on the bed.

“why are ya apologizing?” he waves you off. he’s working on his socks now, pairing them up one by one. you decide to join them, and he throws a bundle at you. “these are mine anyway. i don’t mind foldin’, baby.”

you can’t help but smile.

“i’m serious though, i was going to do them,”

he shakes his head and snorts. putting the clothes away, he smirks over his shoulder.

“yer my wife, not my ma,” he shuts the dresser one last time, shuffling over to plant a kiss on your head. “we help each other. ya ain’t doin it all alone.”

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

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iinoruu · 1 month

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osamu never tried to interact with his followers again after that… 😞

#iinoruuart #haikyuu #haikyuu fanart #hq #art #digitalart #fanart #hq fanart #osamu #osamu miya #meme #redraw

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hotvinimon · 3 months

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Inarizaki High Masterlist

Miya Osamu

Suna Rintaro

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sunaluv · 1 year

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more "come get your man"❗❗ with some more haikyuu boys maybe but honestly? whoever you want 🙏

i got u 😉

part 1 here

pairings: osamu, atsumu, kuroo

OSAMU

onigiri miya was due to close in the next two minutes. you watched your boyfriend close up the counter from your spot on the stool. you liked sitting in when his shop was empty like this, it felt kinda…domestic.

it triggered your thoughts on the future with the hotter twin (in your opinion), you could see yourself walking down the alter to meet him, eating on the floors of your unfurnished home, him standing behind you whilst you rocked your child to sleep—

“hey samu what should i do with these!” you almost rolled your eyes at the voice shouting from the kitchen.

osamu had explained to you how he hired one of his friends from high school to work for him as a favour. she had just finished getting her degree and was looking for work in the area.

you didn’t mind, you were secure in your relationship so there was no reason to be pissed. that was until you had met her and introduced yourself to her as his girlfriend. like a switch had flipped, she instantly started to openly show her hatred for you behind sugar coated insults and not so subtle faces she made only when your boyfriend was out of sight.

you watched osamu’s chest expand in a deep breath. he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair before flipping his cap back on, pecking your temple before heading to the back. “i’ll go see what she wants then we’ll leave, ‘kay?”

you nodded and packed your bag, leaving your space clear and waiting by the counter for your man.

a whole five minutes had passed. you haven’t heard anything which was a sign that you should go investigate, given that girls record.

“…i thought we had a rule for customers showing up before closing time.” a hushed voice whispered.

“we do, there’s no customers here.”

“so who’s still sat out front, you always do this sam—”

ahem.

two faces looked to your spot at the door opening. one looking guilty, one relieved.

“you ready to go samu?” you asked sweetly. “it’s been five minutes and it’s movie night, you know i’m dying to catch up on our franchise.” you not so subtly bragged.

he breathed out through a chuckle. “of course baby, sorry for the hold up. i’m done here anyways.” he walked towards you, missing the dropped jaw of his employee.

you wrapped your arm around his waist before you left, not before smirking at the red-faced girl who was shaking in anger? sadness? embarrassment? you didn’t care.

your shoulders dropped at the chime of the bell followed by the nights breeze as you began your comfortably silent walk home.

“you’re cute when you stake your claim on me ya know?” osamu flicked your forehead.

“shaddap.” you retorted. “if she doesn’t understand boundaries i’ll set them.”

ATSUMU

atsumu was a textbook example of a frat boy. the parties, the girls, the popularity, the girls.

the only stereotype he’s not playing into is dating the leader of the girls sorority house, and some people felt like he’s doing it all wrong.

“omg hi! welcome to—” the cheery voice dripped upon seeing you at the door. “the boys house, who do you know here?”

the girl you recognised as the sorority house leader shamelessly eyes you up and down, twirling the ends of her blonde hair.

if she was here, the rest of the girls were too. they did everything as a culty pack: traveling, partying and even dating. you always thought it was weird how they were all paired with a frat boy, but you never said anything. maybe to them at least.

they obviously hated you for being a rock in their river.

“i’m here for atsumu,” your brow quirked.

her face hardened before plastering into a plastic smile.

“sorry ya just missed him! maybe if you go to—”

“BABY IS THAT YOU!?” a loud, excited voice belonging to your boyfriend shouted.

looking over her shoulder, you watched his blonde locks fly with the wind as he shoved past the girl who let out a disheartened gasp, and picked you up before picking you up and twirling you around.

“i missed you so much,” his soft lips continuously pressed against your face before pouring all his emotion into one last kiss on your lips.

“i missed you too tsum,” you giggled “i was only gone a week though.”

“a week to long! come i have so much to catch you up on.”

again ignoring the fuming girl who had watched the whole interaction, he damn near dragged you up the stairs past all his frat bros who you made sure to shout a greeting at as you passed.

you could hear the rest of the girls from the sorority comforting the girl who was now crying, talkin bout ‘he’ll come around, you two are destined to be together. but you didn’t care, you knew atsumu knew about his rep as a frat bro and he has explained to you about how much he doesn’t care about the ‘dumb stereotypes’ and ‘he likes what he likes, and thats you’.

“you know she likes you right?”

“does she, i thought the only reason she wants me that bad is so their matchup can be completed…”

“that’s part of it, but i feel like she genuinely likes you…” you trailed.

“hey, hey,” he held your cheeks tuning your focus on him. “i don’t care about all that okay? i’m yours and yours alone”

you nodded, placing your hands over his.

“now,” he pulled out his phone going straight to the photos app “let me show ya all you’ve missed.”

KUROO

“tetsuro stopppp,” the girl who had been partnered with your boyfriend for a science project whacked his arm playfully. “omg girl tell your boyfriend to stop.”

you looked at her, then him, then back at her. “stop being a bitch tetsuro.” you played into her antics, drawing out his name like she did.

“not like that, you don’t need to be mean. it was literally a joke.” she mumbled.

kuroo’s eyes met your rolling ones across the table as he shrugged.

“so what are you guys doing after this,” she asked the both of you, but stared at kuroo.

you had explained how you were going to the mall after, so they should probably finish up so you can make it soon.

“you’re going on a date? that’s so cuuuute, there’s actually this really cute place we saw together when—”

“i’ll be right back. toilet.” kuroo stated tensely, sending you an apologetic look as he saw your panicked expression. the both of you knew what her intentions were.

she watched him leave, all the way until the toilet door closed then she turned to you. “can i be real with you a sec, have a heart to heart you know as a fellow sister.”

she didn’t let you respond before she spoke out. “i highkey think tetsu deserves better, he seems really tense around you and i know your dating or whatever but i feel like i could treat him better. i know him.”

woahwoahwoahwhat.

“no.”

“no?”

“no!” you took a deep breath in, before calling her name. “i know you like him, you haven’t even respected me or him enough to hide it. but if you really loved him or knew him, you would know how uncomfortable he feels with you openly flirting with him while he’s in a committed relationship.”

your words hit her like a truck. “you’re not listening to me,” she reached for your hands across the table which you retracted before she could reach. “he needs someone like me, i’m not trying to diss you but you dress kinda bland, your not in many classes together, he doesn’t even talk about you all that often.”

“i do when you overstep, but otherwise i’m just trying to do my work and leave.”

she turned around to see her dear tetsu, arms folded, hurt look on his face. you knew he didn’t like confrontation, so he must have been feeling a strong type of way for him to talk like this.

“tetsu—”

“kuroo.”

“tetsuro,” she stood up placing an arm on his arm which made him step back. “please just come to me, you know we’ll be good together too…”

noticing your boyfriends drastically increased discomfort, you stepped in. “i think you’ve done enough,” you put yourself between the two of them.

wordlessly, you took his larger hand in yours and left the library. after checking up on him, the two of you decided to have a home date instead.

“thanks for stepping in by the way” his voice came out small.

you squeezed his hand. “anything for you tetsu”

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miya-rin · 1 year

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here are some small osamu boyfriend headcanons

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

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

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

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

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

hates milk chocolate, lovesss dark chocolate

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

all my haikyuu boyfriend headcanons!

thankyou for reading! i hope you liked it!

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rkgknno · 2 months

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Hello friends this is a formal invitation to welcome you to onigiri miya for tomorrow's group field trip. we will be meeting at 8AM sharp in front of the nearest 7-11. those of you who are unable to make it due to circumstances will be provided with a number to call to request their immaculate delivery service. thank you very much for your participation and i hope you will employ our services again.

#haikyuu!!#hq #miya osamu #miya atsumu #the bus will be waiting for you and also will be playing MSBY games during the trip

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onnie-giri · 3 months

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i like to think the inarizaki 2nd yrs routinely play a game of rock-paper-scissors before going to vb practices n whoever loses has to buy snacks for all 4 of them

guess who lost this round lol

#haikyuu!!#hq #miya atsumu #miya osamu #suna rintaro #ginjima hitoshi #inarizaki #miya twins #happy bday sunarin!!#jokes on them osamu isnt sharing ANY of those snacks lol #someone save ginjima pls #digital art #artists on tumblr #digital illustration #haikyuu!! art #haikyuu fanart

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noosayog · 6 months

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002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

✧ warnings/content: miya osamu x fem!reader, sfw, fake dating au, angst to fluff,

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

It all started when Miya Atsumu said that you would never be able to find anyone who could put up with you. And you would have taken that with a grain of salt, if Miya Atsumu wasn't your ex who also happened to be a thorough asshole.

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!”

“And we broke up, duh.” he says flippantly.

You clam up at that. You know he’s just saying things. He doesn’t mean it and he’s a complete moron. But it’s been almost a year since the break-up and not a single man has even offered to buy you a drink. Are you going to have to resort to making a Hinge profile?

–

“I don’t know why ya let him get to ya. He’s just a moron,” Osamu says.

“You have to say that, he’s your brother,” you grumble.

“True. But he is an idiot.”

You plop your face heavily into the elbow resting on the counter and blow raspberries in one big exhale.

“Don’t get yer spit all over where my customers eat.”

You grunt, turning over to watch Osamu work behind the counter.

“Do you think I’m unlovable?” you ask.

“Huh?”

“There must be a reason no one’s asked me out on a date in the past 8 months, right?”

Osamu sighs, dropping off a plate of food in front of you. “I’m not gonna answer that.” Then he turns with his back facing you to fiddle with something on the other side of the kitchen.

“Why not?”

He exhales through his nose, quiet, but you hear it.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer because the door swings open to reveal Osamu’s twin. You jolt up, fixing your posture, self-conscious about letting Atsumu think his words are getting to you.

And rightfully so because Atsumu acts like a shark that smells blood. His lips curl up into what he thinks is a smirk, but resembles much more of a snarl.

“What’s up with ya,” he asks oh-so-innocently.

You have no good response and feel your face heating up in embarrassment when Osamu swoops in.

“Are ya gonna sit down or just block my door? ‘Cause I got people that actually pay to eat here.”

Atsumu starts yelling something at Osamu but simmers down into the seat next to you and mumbles something to himself, no doubt some choice words for his brother. It gives you momentary reprieve from Atsumu’s provocation which is the last thing you need right now with your self-esteem in the dumps.

The break is temporary though, because like a true creature with short-term memory and a propensity for being a prick, Atsumu circles back to the topic when he’s done eating.

“So, found a guy to take you out?”

“What makes you think I’d answer that question,” you bite back. Weak, but it’s all you have.

“Hah,” he scoffs. “I knew it. Ya can’t find anyone.”

You feel the irritation boiling like a witch’s cauldron inside of you, brewing a mix of resentment, mortification, and the tiniest streak of competitiveness. Atsumu not shutting up for the rest of the night is the final ingredient that makes your red hot concoction boil over. It goes a bit like this:

“Tell me if ya want me to set ya up with someone from the team. Might be the only chance ya get at this rate,” he teases.

“No thanks,” you hiss. “I’ll have you know that I’m dating Osamu, widely known as the better Miya.” You point smugly at Osamu whose back is currently to you both.

“What!” Atsumu yells. “Osamu? And you?”

With Osamu’s back to you, you can’t see his face, but all your fingers and toes are crossed that he’ll play along so that you don’t burn up in a gas of complete humiliation.

When Osamu turns around, his eyes go to you first. They search yours for something – what, you don’t know. He apparently finds it because he blinks away and tells his brother to mind his own business, neither denying nor validating your claim.

It might as well be confirmation though, because Atsumu squawks in indignation, sputtering his disbelief. Osamu continues to bicker with his brother, keeping him occupied enough to not realize that he was slowly being backed out of the restaurant.

When Osamu slams the door on Atsumu and twists the lock in a dramaticized show of finality, Atsumu finally gives up, yelling a muffled “I’ll be back.” through the windows. You could laugh at the duo if Osamu didn’t turn around and fix you with a look, similar to that of a responsible older brother scolding a child.

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

“Osamu! You heard the way he was talking to me. I just can’t stand it!”

“Have ya thought this through? How’s this supposed to end, huh? We break up and Atsumu goes back to making fun of ya?”

You open your mouth to beg, because it’s always worked with Osamu. He always gives in. But he’s not done, apparently.

“‘Least ya could’ve done is ask me out, not use me to get through yer petty grudge with ‘Tsumu.”

That shuts you up. When you look at Osamu, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are downcast, distracting himself by wiping up the counter. It’s so brief that you convince yourself that you imagined the hurt in his voice.

“‘Samu…”

“Forget it. I’ll do it, but ya better have it thought out because I’m not helping ya anymore than this.”

It should be a win and any other time, you would wrap him up in a bear hug and shower him with thanks, but the defeated way Osamu concedes makes you solemnly finish your meal. It feels unfitting to say thank you.

–

Your first stint as Osamu’s girlfriend comes in the form of a friend’s dinner party. Since the night you forced Osamu to be your boyfriend, you have been back at Onigiri Miya to hang out, but have painfully tiptoed around the topic. The thought has occurred to you that you and Osamu should agree upon a backstory, but you haven’t had the courage to breach the topic after the way Osamu reacted.

He had just nodded when you asked him to attend this dinner party with you. And with that, he had dutifully picked you up at your apartment, perfectly on time. You had expected a stone-faced Osamu all night, but he had surprised you with a sweet smile, one that you’re used to being on the receiving end of. But it somehow feels different tonight. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be smiling at you as your lover tonight. It was easy, the way he had held out his arm for you, no awkwardness in sight.

At dinner, Osamu makes no move to let go of your hand, going as far as to intertwine your fingers under the table. When any one asks how the two of you began dating, he squeezes to tell you he’ll handle this. You’re grateful and you feel undeservingly spoiled as you watch him. He looks around the room, drifts his gaze back to you where his lips flicker upwards for the tiniest second, then looks back at the crowd to flash a mysterious, close-lipped smile. You can barely hear the dinner table go wild with jeers and Atsumu squawking as you gawk at Osamu’s act.

And it goes on.

As you eat, he keeps your fingers clasped between his, laid on his lap. Atsumu gives you two the stink-eye, questioning why Osamu was eating with his left hand. You’re pretty sure your eyes are bulging out of your head at this point, because Osamu flushes. Osamu is blushing as he reluctantly lets go of your hand, making a show out of placing your hand back on your own lap and mumbling a heavily-accented apology at no one in particular.

–

When dinner finally ends, the party migrates to the living room. Osamu doesn’t need to ask, perfectly picking your favorite after-dinner drink of choice as he chooses a beer for himself. He has once again claimed your hand in his. His grip is tight and when you try to slip your hand out to get some space, he holds tighter.

You lean up to whisper in his ear, “Osamu, my hands are sweaty.”

He leans down to hear you better, but stands back up when he registers your comment. He ignores you, only squeezing twice, as if telling you to behave for him. Your head spins; you’ve never dated like this before.

Being with Atsumu was like living in a comically unrealistic sit-com, like you were constantly finding yourself in situations and having conversations that belong in a Tom and Jerry episode. He argued with you about everything, had an ego, and a temper. A particularly memorable moment was when he was still courting you, trying to convince you to date him by saying, “I’m six foot two.”

“Dude, nice try,” you had said.

But somehow, right now, with Osamu standing by your side and towering over you, you think that if this younger twin used that line on you right now, you’d fold in half for him. As if you wouldn’t with all the sweet nothings he’s lavished on you in this one night.

He only lets you get away when you embarrassingly whisper to him that you need a bathroom break.

“I’ll walk with ya.”

“No!” you exclaim. You lower your voice when he stares at you. “It’s okay, ‘Samu. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He backs off and you finally get away from his orbit.

Finally alone, you barely pull yourself together. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, slapping your cheeks lightly to pry the strange daze from your eyes. You can’t get carried away here. Osamu is doing you a favor, one he isn’t fond of. You can’t get used to Osamu treating you like this. It’s borrowed time.

You splash water onto your face, waiting until the chill seeps into your cheeks that have been painfully hot since Osamu picked you up tonight.

As you exit the bathroom, Atsumu is there waiting for you in the hallway.

“I’m onto ya,” he starts.

You scoff, immediately putting your facade back on. It’s easy with Atsumu. “Oh please, Atsumu. You’re just jealous.”

It doesn't phase Atsumu the way you hope. “Such a weak comeback. Sounds like something you’d say to disguise the fact that yer playin’ my brother.” Your brother is the one playing me.

“Whatever, Atsumu,” you say, walking away, taking Osamu’s advice to not let Atsumu get to you.

“I bet ya forced my brother to pretend to be yer boyfriend. I know my brother and I know you. Just admit it.” He smirks. “It’s okay that no one wants to date ya. Nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

The fact that even Atsumu, even all of his stupidity, sees right through you makes you feel hot. You’re grateful that you’ve already turned away from him because you could not take much more damage tonight. Nothing would end you in a worse way than Atsumu seeing that he could make you cry.

Or maybe it’s the fact that Atsumu doesn’t, for one second, believe that someone like his brother could fall for someone like you. Maybe no one does. Maybe everyone here just thinks that you’re making this up and they’re playing along to help you save face.

It takes everything in you to keep your steps and breathing even as you take the walk back to Osamu to compose yourself.

It’s useless apparently because Osamu seems right through you. He immediately offers to take you to the balcony, explaining to everyone that you need some fresh air to cut through the alcohol you’ve had.

His silent understanding makes it worse because it makes it clear that you’re an open book. The act you put on is completely pointless because no one believes you anyway.

Osamu guides you to the balcony and shuts the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

He joins you at the railing, draping his jacket over you. You know he knows that you want to avoid looking into his eyes, just as much as he knows you want to avoid having this conversation altogether. He sighs.

“Why do ya let him get to you like that?”

You look back at him, eyes widening at the tone he rarely takes with you. His eyes are fixed forward, arms still dutifully wrapped around you, ever the dedicated boyfriend. But as his gaze flickers to you momentarily, you catch the weight of his question in his eyes.

“Who?” you mumble.

But Osamu’s not in the mood. He stays silent, letting the question hang in the air.

“I don’t know… I just…”

“Are ya still in love with my brother?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Osamu raises his brows.

“No, but I’ve known him for so long now.” You feel the need to explain. “He just gets under my skin. You of all people should understand – he’s your brother! You guys fight all day long.”

“He’s my brother. We shared a womb. We were born to fight.” Osamu sighs. “You, though... Why can’t ya just let it go?”

“I don’t know! I just…” you trail off.

He continues to stare at you, not even knowing the effect he has on you. His earnest gaze pulls the truth out from under your skin.

“I wanna get him back,” you admit.

Osamu’s eyes go dark at that statement. His expression shutters.

“Not like that!” you quickly amend. “Not like I want to get back with him, I mean like, his face just pisses me off!”

“Huh?”

“I just wanna punch him in the face but I don’t think anything would give me more satisfaction than proving him wrong you know. And honestly, Osamu, you-”

“Ya think that I’m the perfect person to piss him off for ya. ‘Cause I’m his brother and there’s no one else who would get under his skin more than if I replaced him.”

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation.

“Osamu…”

“Am I wrong?”

He’s not wrong, but you feel an urge to tell him how he made you tingle at dinner. It was in the way he catered to your whims, covered for you, and held your hand in secret. It was in the way he, as your not-boyfriend, made you feel loved and desired much more so than any other boyfriend you’ve ever had before.

But when you look at his side profile, face now turned away from you and hidden by the shadows of the night, it doesn’t feel right to say any of that. Even in your mind, it sounds like an excuse. Because the bottom line is that he’s right. Your original intentions had been to use Osamu. And the fact that you might have developed a slight crush on him in the process doesn’t make you feel any less shitty and certainly doesn’t make Osamu feel any less used.

His question goes unanswered.

–

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Actually, it goes by too uneventfully because Osamu doesn’t call or text once. Not that you’ve made an effort, but after how that last conversation with Osamu ended, you can’t find the courage to face Osamu.

It doesn’t make you miss him any less.

You can’t recall if you used to miss Osamu like this, think about him and wish he’d reach out even if it’s only been a couple of days since you’ve last met. You only know that right now, you wish he’d make the first move because you can’t muster up the nerve to see him, even if it’s all you wanted. It also makes you realize that Osamu has been spoiling you long before that night and long before he agreed to be your fake boyfriend. The reason you never had to miss him is because he is always the one who makes the effort to call, text, bring you lunch, pick you up from work, drive you around.

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

And after days of mulling over realization after realization, each making you guiltier and guiltier, you made your decision.

That’s how you end up running to Osamu’s apartment, late on a Thursday evening. Without pausing to compose yourself, afraid you’ll lose your momentum, you knock.

The door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking, very handsome Osamu. He has his cap off, but his hair is unruly, as if his fingers have just recently run through it. His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his t-shirt is wrinkled. The urge to rub your thumb over his eyelids and smooth your other hand over this shirt is a sudden one you shove down because Osamu’s opening his mouth.

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?”

There’s a momentary disappointment that strikes your gut. He asks you so normally, as if he isn’t plagued with thoughts of avoiding you. As if the couple of days that have gone by without any interaction between the two of you isn’t even a thought that occupies headspace.

“Uh,” you stutter.

“Actually,” he sighs and glances behind him. “Now’s not a good time. Can ya-”

“I don’t care about Atsumu,” you cut him off. It sounds like he’s preparing a rejection. Or he just doesn’t want to talk. Neither of which are favorable outcomes, so you barrel through to say what you need to say.

“I don’t care about what he thinks. Not anymore and definitely not that night. I was actually thinking about you the entire time and Atsumu, well, he’s just-”

“Just wait a minute, okay-”

“He just gets under my nerves because of the shit he says and I know he’s just saying stuff to rile me up and I’m a hothead, okay? He gets me because we’re like the same person sometimes, but I’m not doing this to get back at him anymore. It’s actually your fault because-”

“I knew it!” a voice yells from behind Osamu.

You crane your neck to see around Osamu and curse Osamu’s big frame for taking up the entire doorway and blocking your view of the apartment because there is the older twin, grinning widely and walking up to where you’re both standing.

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system.

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone.

Ignoring his brother, Atsumu continues on. “I knew it. I knew the two of ya couldn’t be dating just like that.”

Your nervous system goes into overdrive. Even you know how this looks.

You barged into Osamu’s place randomly at night and picked the time when Atsumu coincidentally is here as well.

Your wide eyes meet Osamu, willing him to believe that you didn’t come to make a scene for Atsumu’s viewing. You didn’t come to confess that you might have a crush on him with this exact timing so that Atsumu would fall for the act.

When Osamu refuses to meet your eyes, it brings your attention back to Atsumu, who continues to gloat about his victory.

Your face burns in mortification as you take slow steps away from the twins, making room for your getaway. As Atsumu gets closer and Osamu continues to avoid your gaze, your courage wanes and the last bit of pride you’re holding onto propels you to turn away instead of retorting as you always do.

“Aww, really let my words get to ya, didn’t ya? I knew all along-”

Before you can start running, Osamu grabs your arm and pulls you into the apartment, the other arm shoving Atsumu out.

“Hey, ‘Samu!”

“Shut the fuck up, ‘Tsumu. Now that my girlfriend’s here to spend the night, get out.” Osamu shuts the door in his face.

Atsumu’s protests fall on deaf ears, the sound of Osamu referring to you as his girlfriend echoing in your mind. He had taken your side, chosen to take the course of action that would embarrass you to least despite not having confirmed what your intentions were. The thought fills you with hope.

He pulls you further into the apartment, sitting you on the barstool. After situating you on the chair, he makes to step out of your personal space, but you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. Your eyes start to sting in frustration that Osamu could somehow believe that this was all just another incident you had orchestrated to get back at his brother. This has all gotten so hopelessly messy.

“Osamu,” you sniffle into his neck. “I didn’t come over here and say all that because I knew Atsumu was listening. I just-” missed you.

He rubs soothing circles into your back, gently enough to make you want to cry more because you don’t deserve this but want it so badly.

“You just…?” he prompts.

The words won’t come out and your tears soak into his shirt. You want to tell him so badly that you’re not crying to garner his sympathy; you’re crying because you’re so angry with yourself.

Osamu patiently strokes your back, letting you cry before quietly telling you, “Oh, baby. How long do ya think we’ve known each other? I know yer not the type to set up this whole complicated scenario just to show up my stupid brother. I believe ya.”

His other arm is now holding your head to his neck, fingers running lightly across your scalp. “So can ya finish what you were about to say for me?”

His words and his actions do what they always do to you. They fill you with so much hope that there’s no room to mistaken his intentions. They fill you with the courage to tell him.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

Finally, both of his arms wrap around your back to push you tight into his chest. He squeezes, gentle enough to keep you safe but firm enough to tell you he wants you there. It pulls the confession out of you.

“And I like you so much, Osamu.”

He chuckles lightly into your ear. You can feel the vibrations echo in his chest. When you squeeze back, he trails his arms down to your legs to guide them around his waist. He carries you with ease to the couch and sits you down to cry in his lap.

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like that for, but when you finally calm down, you keep your arms wrapped around him and quietly ask, “why did you do all this for someone like me?”

He stops stroking your hair.

“What, ya don’t like it?”

You pull away to protest, already too comfortable with him spoiling you again, only to find the corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk.

He’s teasing, you realize.

You smack his face weakly and wind your arms back around him.

You snuggle back into his neck but he’s the one who pulls you back this time.

“Hey, seriously though,” he says. “Is this okay?”

You nod shyly.

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”

“I want it.”

“Alright. C’mere then.”

You oblige.

“Can I tell ya a secret?” he murmurs into your neck.

You nod.

“There isn’t a man out there who’d do all that for someone he doesn’t love, ya know that?”

It makes you flustered, but much of what Osamu does does that to you. His tenderness makes you want to try harder to meet him in the middle.

“Can I do something?” you ask, taking a leap. Your face is incredibly hot and your heart is beating embarrassingly loudly against his. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

It’s easy when he responds, “You can do anything ya want to me.”

You intend for it to be an innocent peck, your form of an apology. But he holds the back of your neck, the other arm wrapped almost all the way around your torso and doesn’t let go until you’re panting against his open mouth.

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs.

“You can do anything ya want but I’ll be doing the same from now on.”

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