#miya osamu x y/n | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noosayog · 5 months

Text

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.”

2K notes · View notes

teamatsumu · 6 months

Text

kinktober 2023 -> day 31

breeding kink - miya osamu x reader

word count: 1512

A/N: so this is it! thank you so much for everyone who stuck around for this kinktober event. 31 fics in 31 days, its the biggest project i have ever done. thank u for all the love and support ❤️

kinktober masterlist

What is stopping you?

Your mind repeated the question in your head every day, and it felt like your brain was yelling at you in frustration and confusion, wanting to know why exactly you were tongue tied in this situation. It made no sense to wait anymore. The time was ideal.

Truly, there couldn't be a better time to bring it up. You were happy with your job, Osamu’s business was flourishing; he had just opened another Onigiri Miya in Tokyo. He had a good staff now, an organized system on how to manage it all. He didn’t have to be the only person worrying for the business anymore, since he had hired experienced managers. It allowed him enough breathing room to come home early, cook a nice, hearty dinner for you both that you enjoyed while sprawled on the couch in front of the TV. Money wasn’t a worry anymore.

So really, what was stopping you from bringing up the topic of kids?

You seemed to have become lost in the same thoughts again because you only came to when Osamu nudged you, making you blink and tear your eyes away from the TV screen. He was looking at you questioningly, and you could see a hint of worry behind his dark eyes.

“What’s on yer mind, doll?”

You shook your head and smiled, shrugging a bit. “It’s no big deal ‘Samu. Just a project at work.”

He hummed a little, shoving more noodles into his mouth and sparing you little glances as he did so. You knew he didn’t believe you. Your husband knew you too well to fall for such an obvious lie. But you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure out how to broach the topic that was itching in the back of your mind for the last few days.

What do I even say? Put a baby in me?

You swallowed down the little knot that formed in your throat at the thought. Fuck. Was this turning you on? You grit your teeth tight enough that it hurt your jaw, scolding the little voice in your head to not do anything stupid.

When has your brain and lack of filter ever listened to you, though?

The next night, when Osamu had you sprawled on his lap, your back against his front, two fingers buried knuckles deep inside you and having pulled an orgasm out of you already, you babbled out the thought that had been plaguing you for many, many days.

“‘Sa- Samu,” you whined, long and desperate, dragging out his name. “Need your cock. Need your cum. Please.”

Osamu groaned in reply, pulling out his drenched fingers from your core and laying you on the bed. You pulled your legs up on instinct, spreading them wide, knees brought up to your sides. Osamu’s responding moan was sinful.

“S-shit, baby,” he breathed, clumsy hands quickly discarding his shirt and sweatpants. “Ya want it that bad? So ready to take me?”

You nodded your head frantically, back arching when he finally sunk his big, throbbing cock into you. The slide was comfortable and easy, considering how long you had spent spread apart on his fingers. Osamu wasted no time in immediately picking up speed, knowing exactly what spots to hit that had you reduced to a weepy mess.

You fumbled around until you had grabbed Osamu’s hands, hooking both of them under your knees and applying pressure. Osamu stared at you in realization before he shifted a bit and used his weight to hold your legs apart. You wanted him to put you in a mating press.

“This what ya want, sweetheart?” His voice was so hoarse you felt like you could cum just at the sound of it. “Fuck, ya look so sexy. All spread out fer me.”

Osamu was big on dirty talk, you knew. He loved speaking during sex and he loved when you spoke during sex. Over the years, you two had tried any and every thing in the bedroom that you possibly could, and you had lost all shame when it came to voicing your desires. The filthier, the better actually. Osamu could easily cum if you talked him through it.

Pair that with your days-old ruminating thoughts, and everything spilled out of you like word vomit.

“‘Samu,” you gasped. “Fuck me hard and deep, please. Please. Need to- need to be filled up with your cum, daddy. Need it.”

Osamu’s thrusts sped up and he cursed under his breath. “You’ll get it, babygirl. You’ll get daddy’s cum. Every last drop.”

You nodded frantically, crying out at a particularly well aimed thrust. “Yes! I- Osamu!” You wailed when his thumb made contact with your clit. Your nails dug into his back as you scrambled to pull him close. “Gimme. ‘Samu, gimme.”

Osamu was moaning into the skin of your neck, your legs over his shoulders and your body bent in half. “What’s gotten into ya today, baby? So greedy.”

You wound a hand through his hair, feeling the knot in your stomach pull tighter and tighter. You were seconds away from an orgasm. You pulled his head up by the hair until he was looking into your eyes. Your tears-coated, weepy eyes.

“Get me pregnant, Osamu. I want your kids.”

You didn’t have the time or the mental coherence to look at his reaction, because your orgasm washed over you like a freight train. Osamu’s movements stuttered, as a result of your words or you reaching your peak, you didn’t know. All you could do was feel the waves of electricity wash over you as you tried to breathe through the overwhelming feeling.

It was only when Osamu slowed to a stop in you, still twitching and throbbing, that you opened your wet eyes. He was looking down at you with mouth slightly open in shock, breathing still labored from his previous exertion. His dark hair was messy, stuck to the sweat on his forehead. All was silent between you.

“Are you serious?” He breathed, trying to see through your post-orgasm face. You nodded slowly.

“Thought about it a lot.” You admitted, tightening your legs around his waist a bit. “I’m ready if you are.”

A few more seconds, before Osamu bit his bottom lip and groaned, eyes falling to half mast again. He breathed deep, shaking his head. The corner of his mouth twitched up a bit.

“Do ya know how long I’ve waited fer this?” His voice was husky. He pulled himself up and unwound your legs from his waist. Then he bent you in half again, before setting a fast, bruising, brutal pace.

You gasped and threw your head back at the sudden change, pussy still sensitive from your orgasm, jaw going slack. His cock pounded into you with all the ferocity he could summon, one of the roughest sessions you two had had for a while, burning through you like embers crawling under your skin.

“Thought ‘bout it so much.” He continued choking out words, not slowing in the slightest. “The thought of ya all fat an’ swollen with ma kids. Fuck. Yer gonna look radiant.”

You moaned with him, picturing your pregnant belly, glowing face. Picturing a little human that you will birth. A human that Osamu could potentially put in you now.

“Daddy,” you whined. “Need…. I need- please.”

“Need what, baby?” Osamu had a little smirk on his face. His skin was flushed and damp, a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his face. His eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out his pupils. He looked feral.

“Need my load in ya? That it? Need ta take every last drop, yeah? Can’t risk wastin’ it.”

His hand came up, winding into your hair and tugging hard until you yelped.

“Take it, doll. Take it-”

His voice broke into a long moan as his hips stuttered and you felt warmth flood your insides, his bulging biceps trembling as he tried to hold his weight up through his orgasm. He was loud through it, coaxing you with rough words and even rougher fingers pinching your clit until you came one last time with a heaving cry, eyes rolling up into your head.

You had barely caught your breath when Osamu reached up to grip your face tightly with one hand, your cheeks squishing together. You stared at him with zoned out, misty eyes.

“Don’t ya dare waste a single drop.” He whispered so close that his lips brushed your puckered ones. “Keep it inside yer pussy like a grateful slut, ya hear me?”

You moaned in response, nodding weakly against his grip. He pulled out then and you clenched tightly, but you could feel it as a little bit trailed down your crack. Osamu hummed in disappointment, holding your legs open and watching as his cum leaked out.

“Poor baby. Couldn’t do it, could ya?” You felt him lean forward and brush a surprisingly soft kiss below your ear.

“I guess I’ll just have ta keep goin’ until I know yer pregnant fer sure.”

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy y @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu smut #osamu smut #haikyuu smut #hq smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya osamu imagine #miya osamu fanfiction #miya osamu fic #haikyuu fic #hq fic #hq imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

doingitforbokuto · 2 months

Text

Osamu x female!reader

Osamu does the leg thing and it drives you insane. At first, he is subtle about it, just testing the waters. He slowly moves you with your back to the next wall while he kisses you, one hand on your shoulder, the other on your hip, guiding you to where he wants you. His kisses are slow and deep, sensual in a way you never knew was possible. It makes you feel loved, it makes you feel wanted and when your back hits the wall and his hands start to wander across your body, it makes you feel so undeniably horny.

Small moans and whimpers are muffled by Osamu's lips and tongue, still keeping his composure. But when he feels your hands needily grasping onto his broad shoulders, trying to get him closer to you, to feel more of him, he can tell how much you want him. So, very gently, he moves one of his legs, parting your own, and lets it slip in between your thighs.

You gasp when you feel the muscles in his thighs flexing against your core and, without even thinking about it, you push yourself down, against his leg, enjoying the delicious friction that has your head swimming.

You're already overwhelmed by how his hands feel on your body, how one travels from your shoulder over your throat, tracing your pulse point before moving over your chest to one of your nipples, his fingers finding the hardened peak beneath your clothes. The other one moves from your hip to your belly and the heat that comes off of his palm is almost too much for you to handle. But his leg is what sets you off.

He presses it harder against you when he feels you starting to get yourself off on him, he starts flexing his muscles in sync with your thrust. One of his big hands moves to your belly, putting pressure on the spot where you wish his cock was right now. He brings his other hand down to your hips to help you keep a steady rhythm. When he feels your thrust getting a little erratic, he tightens his grip on you, his fingers digging into your fat.

“Be a good girl and keep going,” he whispers against your neck, where he was leaving open-mouthed kisses just a second ago. “Good girl. Keep going. Come for me, sweet girl."

#osamu #lemon #osamu x reader #osamu x you #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #osamu x y/n #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #osamu smut #haikyuu smut #miya osamu smut

745 notes · View notes

kairismess · 5 months

Text

pocky challenge with him. (part 3).

osamu miya. — cookies and cream pocky.

osamu loves the taste of the chocolatey cookie bits and the sweet cream coating the biscuit... but he loves the taste of your lips even more. he may not seem like it, but osamu enjoys seeing you lose your composure as his seemingly calm face gets closer and closer to you. he wordlessly chomps down generous portions of the biscuit, his unfazed expression unchanging as his lips are only a hair's width away from you.

he bites forward, looking into your eyes as you get even more flustered and shy. pulling the remaining bits of the pocky away from you, osamu eats the biscuit up, kinda disappointing you because he hadn't kissed you... until he leaned over and pressed his lips against yours, pushing the piece of the pocky biscuit he was going eat into your mouth.

atsumu miya. — mango pocky.

atsumu loves being a teasing little shit, chuckling and pointing out how cute you look when pissed off at his smug grinning. he purposely takes big bites out of the pocky, and every time you pull away or back out, he insists on doing the challenge once more.

the blonde's determined to get a kiss from you, though he doesn't wanna be the one to initiate–he wants you to kiss him, he wants you to want to kiss him. after multiple failed attempts, his confidence slowly starts to wane as you show zero interest in kissing him.

until you break off a piece of the pocky again, and unexpectedly, you cup his face in your hands and kiss him, leaving him all red and pink, flushed–all the way down to his neck and shoulders.

bokuto kotaro. — almond crush vanilla pocky.

bokuto enjoys eating the crunchy biscuit, though he enjoys seeing your face directly across his when he's biting into it. he doesn't exactly know what's so challenging about eating up a pocky stick with you, but he does love seeing you stare into his eyes and get a bit shy when he's staring back at you with a sweet smile.

he swears the pocky stick tastes even sweeter now, and he doesn't know why! maybe he should share his pocky with you more often, though why do you look so sad when he lets you have the bigger piece when you're both finishing the pocky up?

503 notes · View notes

kairiscorner · 6 months

Note

Hiii can I request prompt 59 with osamu!

"ah, sorry, i... oh, your hand's really soft."

OFC DEAR SKSMJDKDKSJSISKDKEK i wanna eat him he's such a LOVER BOY but is very lowkey about it, so SHY AND ADORABLE I EKDKSJKWNSIEKEJEKEK

"your hands are so... warm."

a long day of volleyball practice and studying prompted you to ask osamu if he wanted to go get some soda with you at the nearest convenience store. he agreed, not that he had any reason to disagree, since you were only the cutest and sweetest person he has ever had the pleasure of meeting.

you two entered the convenience store, and like an obedient little puppy–or fox, rather–he quietly walked with you along the aisles of the store, listening to you as you spoke, nodding and shaking his head all sleepily, looking over at you with half-lidded eyes that were full of subtle adoration and love for you.

you spoke to him all about what happened today, about all the little things and the bouts of excitement and disappointment all throughout your day; it was the highlight of osamu's day to hear all about yours, really–and hopefully he wouldn't sound creepy if he were to admit that he gets a little sluggish when he doesn't get to see or hear from you at all from the day.

"hey, wanna try this one?" you ask him as he moves closer to you, looking over your shoulder to get a better look at the drink. "oh, as long as it isn't too sweet or strong, i'll take it." he said as you smiled. you two exited the convenience store and sat down at a nearby bench, just relaxing after a long day of work, studies, and practice. you rummaged in the bag, and you pulled out the drink you introduced him to. "here ya go, samu." you said as you handed him the drink, with osamu thanking you in a small mutter as he reached for it.

there was a split second when his whole body jolted up and froze–and it was in the very instance that his fingers were wrapped around yours. you didn't flinch, you found nothing wrong with the way he was holding your hand, you felt a little warmed up at the feeling, really. osamu blushes a bright pink when he realized just what the soft, gentle feeling was underneath his fingers was, and he tried pulling away, but his mouth ran quicker than his hand and his mind, and he blurted out:

"ah, sorry, i... oh, your hand's really soft..."

"you... really think so?"

"i-i mean... you feel... just right, i mean...!" he blurted out again, trying to cover up his embarrassing confession, merely blushing even worse while you stifled a giggle and smiled right up at the flustered, pink mess of the boy that he was. he could be serious, calm, and deadpanned at times–but around you, his one and only weakness, the only person who can pull him to be more expressive, emotional, and fired up at times–he can be a shy, cute little lover boy. and he doesn't mind getting used to being rattled by how much you make him melt, he adores being made into an embarrassed puddle of adoration and devotion to you, always.

464 notes · View notes

forusomimiya · 17 days

Text

@coyloves ship & prompt: “Look how messy you are” w/ Osamu Miya ˚₊˚✧🍙✧˖°🍂

"I've been thinking about bending you over this table and just having my way with you" His knuckles caressed your chin before he gripped your jaw and made your head tilt to the opposite side of his face, to have easier access to your neck and kiss it. He smiled when he felt you straighten up, product of shivering. "You like the idea?" you thought you nodded, but it was so subtle your movement that it was enough for Osamu to understand that when you were speechless, it was because you found his proposal more than decent.

It wasn't the first time you had sex in the store. The routine would end up being the same as all the other times before: Osamu wooing you until he had you right where he wanted you, clumsy hands caressing each other's body, quick and warm kisses, and discretion in moaning so he could pay attention to the door bell in case Kita came carrying bags of rice. The last time was fun, despite the fact that you almost got caught red-handed.

"We should be quick."

"Yeah" Osamu said in a sarcastic tone. "I can see you're in a hurry" He pointed his gaze at the wetness in your panties, licking his lips, holding back from touching you still. "Look how messy you are".

"Samu! are you even listening to me?"

"I'm trying to pay attention, but you're just too sexy. Not gonna lie."

"Then, tell me what you want me to do" His grayish eyes bore into yours, able to read what they expressed.

Then Osamu lifted you up and sat you on the cold marble table of the warehouse, taking a quick glance at your body, stunned by the beauty of your curves, savoring them in his mind, decanting and amusing himself with his favorite parts.

"Let me hear your beautiful moans a second time today, darling" His thumbs played with the inside of your thighs, spreading them open, allowing a glimpse beneath them of your chubby pussy. "Hah… shit" He exhaled excitedly. His hips rocked forward instinctively, needing to have you lying there on your back for him, legs spread wide.

The throbbing in his chest began to ache as you lay back on the table and circled his hips drawing him to you, pulling your shirt up and exposing your large breasts squeezed into your bra.

"You're going to fuck me?"

"Fuck… Of course I do" In a quick set of hands, Osamu unclasped your bra as he worked his way under your boxers, reaching for his cock and pumping it a couple of times while his mouth was distracted with your breasts. He didn't skimp on making as much noise as possible as he savored and kneaded them at the same time, sucking your nipples and pinching them on his lips before releasing them. "They are so perfect… just mine" He kneaded relentlessly, and when he noticed that his cock was about to burst through his underwear, he released it as best he could, —caused by nervousness and quickness by the impatience of being inside you—, and pushing aside your panties, he entered you ever so slowly without losing sight of the expression on your face as he filled you.

"Atta girl, fucking your boss in his own warehouse, huh?"

He settled into a steady rhythm, and cursed himself for not having taken you earlier at that table. The movements of your body in response to his thrusts were something Osamu had yet to deal with. The bouncing of your tits followed by pithy gasps flooded his mind so quickly and directly, that in order to speed up the command his brain sent to his cock, he had to take possession of your hips and lighten the pace. His mind clouded as your insides tightened and his ears filled with his cursed name, thus ignoring —though not willingly—, your warning you were cumming. Osamu forgot the discretion agreed upon at the beginning and made sure to fuck you in the roughest way, letting anyone planning to enter the store know that he was busy to attend to any customers or receive any packages.

Maybe that day, the "closed" sign would remain hanging on the door for another hour.

291 notes · View notes

justmywriting1313 · 18 days

Text

Soft (Osamu x reader)

Adult, business-owning boyfriend!Osamu is without a doubt the type of partner who would slowly yet firmly bring out the soft, tender-hearted childish part of you... and it would be without either of you even realising it... only when someone else pointed it out would it strike you both and even then it would hit you a lot more than it would Samu. Not because he doesn't care but because to him that is the natural order of the world. When and where else were you allowed to be soft, tender and just taken care of if not with your big beefy boyfriend...

It's a cold winter night, but you all are sitting by the riverside, a blanket spread out and a collapsible table in the back holding food and drinks. The little group consists of you, Osamu, Suna, Iwaizumi, Kageyama, and a bunch of the other MSBY boys. Everyone is either nursing a drink or munching on snacks prepared by you and your boyfriend.

Osamu is sitting in the center of the blanket between a tipsy Suna and an amused Iwaizumi. Feet flat on the ground, knees spread apart, with his body hunched over yours, which is tucked against him. You are sitting between his legs, head thrown back against his shoulder, all warm and cozy. You let Samu hold up most of your weight as you melt into his chest, your hands playing with one of his own. Outside of setting up your little picnic and grabbing the occasional drink, it's how you spend most of your night. Somewhere behind you, you can hear Sakusa's indifferent voice talking to Kageyama. In front of you, Atsumu, Kotarou, and Shoyou are bickering over the last tuna mayo onigiri.

Every few minutes, Samu pecks your temple, quietly whispering snarky comments about others or chuckling deeply in your ear. He occasionally peppers kisses along your shoulder, and each time, you smile and mumble your agreement. You watch Atsumu fail to get the last onigiri from Bokuto as the much larger man chomps onto the rice in one bite. You giggle at the blonde's dismayed expression, which immediately grabs his attention.

"Y/N, don't laugh at me… it's not fair, ya know… that onigiri was rightfully mine."

"Awww, don't pout, Tsumu. Stop by the store tomorrow, okay? I'll keep an order prepared for you."

"One, I'm not pouting; I'm brooding. And two… You're the best, sweetheart. Have I told ya that?"

You just giggle, watching Atsumu jump about in happiness before he comes to a standstill. He takes a seat opposite you and Samu, legs crossed together. His eyes are trained on you, and you can only look back at him and smile. He smiles back wide before he speaks in a voice much quieter than before,

"Ya know, Y/N, I have never seen ya look so… so soft… unguarded even… it's probably the cutest thing ever."

His words are not at all what you were expecting, and they leave you gobsmacked and shy. You feel your cheeks heat up at the attention, especially when the boys around you start to peer in. Iwaizumi bends over trying to peek at your face against Osamu's hunched-over body. When your surprised doe eyes meet his, he chuckles in agreement,

"You aren't wrong, Astumu… definitely cute."

Suna does the same on the other side, one hand coming and lightly pinching your cheek.

"Mhmm, it is adorable… you should keep her hidden, Samu, otherwise someone's going to steal her away."

"Oh yeah? Ya one of those people, Sunarin?"

Finally, your boyfriend chimes in, you can feel his chest move as you bend back to look at him. You find his eyes already trained on you despite talking to Suna. His lidded eyes and soft smirk are an expression you would remember forever. You have never felt more loved and wanted in all your life, and you are quick to shy away from all the attention,

"You guys… go away. Smack around a ball or something."

You can feel Samu's chest rumble as he chuckles at your timidness while Atsumu jumps up to grab the ball and Shoyou. Suna pinches your cheek again, making you whine while Iwaizumi musses up your hair. Chatter seems to surround you again, but your mind is stuck on those words. They stay floating through your consciousness while the boys horse around, sometimes jolting when Osamu's body moves. The thoughts stay there while everyone packs, all of you too tired now and wanting to get home. It's all you can think about, even as Osamu grabs the heavy and lighter bags from your hand in one of his own, his other hand holding onto yours tightly. When you look up at him, he is already smiling down at you.

"Are ya okay, sweetheart? You've been quiet as a mouse, ya know."

You just hum, instead of leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. Osamu makes it easier by leaning down, quirking a brow at the soft gesture, but he doesn't say anything more. Instead, you walk down to the car, Sakusa helping to carry a drunk Atsumu along.

Soft. Soft. Soft… You sit in the passenger seat, looking out the window, with Atsumu and Sakusa in the back bickering with one another as usual.

You had never been soft…

You had never been soft in the sense that you were just never for others to see… Your softness, you had decided early on, was yours, and you would not give others a chance to abuse it because there were too many times where it had been… So when did it all change? When did it go from something secret to something celebrated?

Looking back, though, it was never really a question… Being soft with Osamu just happened as if you didn't know how to exist in any other way with him. You just couldn't… Not when he always bends down and ties your laces for you, nor when he always opens the car door and buckles your seat belt in because 'precious cargo' always needs to be strapped in. You didn't have a choice in keeping your softness hidden when you woke up to flowers on the table at least once a week, and when you asked Samu why, he just shrugged his shoulders and said pretty things should always be surrounded by pretty things. You didn't have a choice in hiding your tender heart when Samu has always had a hold on it, pulling it out of you and then keeping it on a pedestal for everyone to see but for no one else to touch.

Turning to look at him right now, one of his hands on the wheel, quietly humming something with his other hand on your thigh, gripping both your leg and your hand, you were hit with the intensity of Samu's love. And although his eyes never leave the road, you know he knows you're looking at him. You see him smile as the car comes to a stop in front of Atsumu's house. He turns to look at you, and when his eyes meet yours, he chuckles before leaning in to peck your lips. You have to stop yourself from deepening it because he has to help Sakusa get Atsumu to bed.

And when he comes back outside alone, your eyes immediately find him even in the dark outside. You roll the window down, his arms coming to rest on the door, head leaning in until you were so close you could feel his breath on your own lips.

"Ya sure you're alright mhmmm? Sure ya got nothing to tell me"

His nose comes to lightly nudge yours,

"Nothing to tell your Samu, promise, just been thinking that's all"

"How about you tell me what about? might make me feel better"

"Just thinking about how happy I am being yours thats all"

Your words knock the breath right out of Samu and he lets out a sounds thats something between a chuckle and a groan before he's leaning away to open your door. Before you can question him his hands find you face lips landing on yours. Samu kisses you like its all he can do not to stop himself every second of every day, a desperate growl of approval leaving him as he does before he pulls away and says,

"I will never get over how soft ya make me love, never!"

208 notes · View notes

mavrintarou · 8 months

Text

[2:18 PM] Miya Osamu A/B/O

Hello - sorry for temporarily abandoning you all. I've been needing lots of motivation to finish WYE. Thought in the meantime, I could get reinspired again... and this is what I got. Completely smutty alpha Osamu.

Warning: My A/B/O works are never safe for work... completely explicit content that I'm wondering what is wrong with me lol. If you're new, do check out the other HQ and JJK A/B/O works too in my masterlist. .

Osamu sighed for the millionth time, running a hand through his gray mane. His dark brown-black roots were beginning to grow longer each day lately he has not cared to touch up the artificial color.

His mind has been preoccupied with Y/l/n Y/f/n.

Every second, minute, and hour of the day.

He has been making minor mistakes throughout the day, making his employees concerned.

His second in command had to kick him out, telling him to take a couple of days off.

“I can sort of detect your pheromones. Are going into a rut soon?” Hanzo asked, he is an alpha too.

Osamu groaned, losing track of his cycle. “Yeah, I’m due for it.” He stood up, “I should hurry and get out of here before I make the rest of you guys uncomfortable. Please take care of the restaurant for me, Hanzo.”

Hanzo saluted and watched his boss slip out the back door.

Osamu groaned as he ejaculated all over his hand for the second time. He barely made it through his apartment doors when he pulled his straining cock out to find relief.

His breath is uneven and he stumbled straight into the bathroom to wash his hands before searching for his medications. It felt different, stronger, and uncontrollable this time around.

His eyes widened when the cartridge was empty.

He couldn’t go out, shouldn’t go out when he couldn’t control his pheromone at the moment.

Osamu let out a deep breath, “I’ll be okay without them, I did fine last time.” The tiny voice in his head whispered, yeah, before you met Y/n.

His body was heating up, he fumbled to strip his black shirt off, tossing it on the ground as he stumbled into his bedroom. Immediately searched for the few clothing items she had left over at his place. The lightbulb in his head lit up when he remembered she tossed her worn dirty clothes in his hamper a few days ago. “Ah,” he sighed in relief and brought her panties to his nose, inhaling deeply.

His fist wrapped around his cock again and began pumping fast.

He needed Y/n.

Only her.

His cum shot out, dripping off his hand and onto the floor.

“’Samu?” He lifted his head, her panties still smothered against his nose. Was he hallucinating by seeing Y/n stand in the doorway?

He’s finally gone mad.

Osamu lifted one hand out towards her, his eyes hooded as he tried to focus them on her. “Y/n….” He sensed her hesitating and stumbled to stand back on his feet. His cock was still hard even after cumming three times, it bounced against his happy trail of hair. It was now thicker and longer than before. He was excited to see his Y/n. “Y/n… please… I need you.” His feet stumble as if he was drunk.

“Osamu,” she murmured, “you – you’re in your rut cycle…” her breathing became rugged as his pheromone began affecting her.

“I need – I need you…” he begged, “you’re the only one… I only want you… you my omega.”

Y/n flinched, choking on her breath as her body began to heat up. She gripped a hand over her heart, trying to control her breathing. “N – no…” Her knees trembled as she tried to press her thighs tightly together. The ache between her legs intensifies by the second. “’Samu…” she looked up and Osamu’s brown eyes were now golden-yellow, an obvious sign an alpha is in a full-blown rut.

“Y/n, my love,” he smiled, his voice full of sweetness, “my omega, right?” He cupped her cheek, his eyes shutting at skin-to-skin contact. He opened his eyes, “my omega, right, Y/n?”

She gripped his wrist, feeling his pheromone seeping through her skin. “Ye – yes… yours…”

“My what?”

Her other hand reached out to wrap around his cock, “your omega. I am your omega, alpha.”

His arm is around her tiny waist, tugging her against his chiseled body. Osamu’s mouth is on hers, tongue slipping past her lips to dance with hers. Her sweet moans ring like a melody and he wants to hear it for the rest of his life.

Osamu hoists Y/n up, carrying her to his bed. He set her back on her feet and began undressing her. His fingers working at a speed she couldn’t even keep track of which piece was coming off.

“’Samu,” she called his name softly, “I’m not going anywhere…” She placed a palm over his beating heart, feeling it thump. She released her pheromone and immediately felt him relax.

“More,” his voice is low and rough, he inhaled deeply.

Her pheromone mixed with his, creating a new euphoric ambiance.

“Ah!” Y/n gripped Osamu’s shoulders, being lifted off her feet again as he carried her to the middle of his bed. He gently placed her down on her back before pulling the remaining of his pants and boxer off.

Each time Osamu breathed, his cock twitched.

Y/n lift herself upward and reached for his cock, wrapping both hands around it and stroking it. “It’s bigger… than usual.” She glanced up at him with doe-like eyes, “will… it fit?”

The first time she took Osamu’s cock, she was nearly expanded beyond her imagination. It took a few times before her pussy finally molded to fit his cock.

The hint of pride was evident on Osamu’s smile, “it will fit, you were meant for me. You were meant to take my cock and you will take my knot too.”

“I’ve never been knotted before,” her statement was innocent but it was fuel to rile up Osamu. He was even more eager than ever to knot her at that moment.

His fingers brushed her hair out of the way before tilting her chin, “I will knot you as many times over until you become pregnant.” Something flickered in her eyes and Osamu pressed her onto her back, anchoring her petite small omega body beneath his large alpha body. “You are mine, Y/n, my omega… mine to fuck, to love, and to breed over and over… right?”

She bit down on her lower lip.

“Submit to me, Y/n,” he growled with a quiet but soft tone. “Say you’re mine to fuck, love, and breed.” His hand reached between her legs, and three of his thick fingers breached and penetrated her. Her tight walls hugged his fingers and he released more of his pheromone, instantly feeling her relax. They began thrusting in and out of her pussy, soaking his fingers to his knuckles before he slipped a fourth finger, making sure to stretch her wide for his rutted cock.

“Yes,” she murmured, her eyes shut as she fully submitted.

Osamu smiled widely, pecking her lips, “open your eyes and say it, tell me what I want to hear. Tell your alpha what he wants to hear…”

Her pussy clenched around his fingers hearing him speak in such a way. Her eyes opened and she gazed directly into his, her hand cupping his face. “I’m yours… yours to fuck… to love…”

“And breed?” He questioned, the tip of his nose trailing along her neck as he inhaled her scent emitted more sweetness than usual now that she had fully submitted to him. “I will breed you tonight, Y/n, take my word for it. You will never leave my home now without my scent on you, everyone will know you are mine.” His teeth bared, hovering over the sweat glands. “I will mark you mine for eternity. I will make you pregnant by the end of the night.” Her pussy fluttered around his fingers, and he pulled them out, coating her essence on his cock. “Answer me, Y/n.”

“Yes, breed me. Mark me… I’m yours. All yours.” She lifted her hip, “fuck me, ‘Samu… I need you…”

Osamu grabbed his aching cock and pressed it to her pulsing entrance before thrusting fully deep inside her. His head is thrown back as he groans her name. “Fuck, you’re so tight… so tight for me.” His fingers gripped her waist as his hips began moving in a steady rhythm.

His eyes lazily gaze down, mesmerized at how his thick cock would appear and disappear in her sweet pussy. Because it was his rut-cock, his size was enormous than usual, allowing him to see a visible outline where his cock was nestling inside of her. This was his first time seeing her belly bulge form from his cock.

Osamu admit he had a thick and long cock, and during his rut cycle, the size increased twice as much. He enjoyed watching his past partners struggle to take him and get off from the size of his cock. His size kink increased until he met Y/n.

She was the smallest of his partners. Rather than finding joy and excitement like he normally would, Osamu was nervous that Y/n wouldn’t be able to take his size. She struggled to take his cock the first time even when he took it slow and tried to be as gentle as possible. Though she was in pain, she still encouraged him to continue. Osamu had never felt the unfamiliar spark in his heart for someone until her.

She was the first person he held afterward, refusing to let her leave. When he woke up, she was gone with no trace at all. He did not know where to even start to search for her. They had encountered each other at one of those weekend events that alphas and omegas attended to search for their next cycle partner.

Osamu couldn’t take his eyes off her when she entered the room with two other girls. Her hair was in a high bun and she wore a simple dress that came down to her knees. They finally made eye contact from across the room and she winked at him before looking away.

That was Osamu’s cue to make the move.

He attended the next event, in hopes of running into her again but he was let down by the end of the night.

Weeks later he succumbed to a deep despair. His employees tipped toed around him, feeling like he was a ticking time bomb. No one knew what to do or how to help their boss.

Until their blessing entered the shop…

The onigiri slipped from Osamu’s hand and everyone stared at him confused and before anyone could ask him what was wrong, he was out of the kitchen. They all scurried after him and peeked through the curtains to see what startled him.

Standing before their boss was a pretty omega, staring at him with the same shocked expression. Her expression softened and she smiled, “hey, you.”

Osamu truly believed Y/n was his fated partner. She had been looking for him as well.

“I regretted leaving, I’ve never experienced such emotions and left my heart with you that night.” She cupped his face later that day, bringing him in for a deep kiss. “I don’t want to be without you again.”

They got to get to know one another, the proper way. Osamu took her out on dates and after the fourth one, he officially asked her out.

He was dying by the second as she teased him, contemplating on his offer before saying yes.

“Only if you make me cum,” she teased against his lips.

And he did, thrice.

“’Samu,” Y/n mewed, grabbing his wrists. Osamu is a master of her body, inside and out. He knew when she was ready to cum. “’Samu… please.”

“You ready to cum, baby?” he cooed, fastening his pace. He spread her legs wider, pushing her knees into the mattress. He shifted over her, slamming his cock deep and hard, his room echoing with skin on skin. He had control over her body, he has trained her to only cum on his command. Her walls began to tighten around his cock and her moans amplifies. “Okay, you can cum… cum for me…”

As soon as her pussy wall tightens and trembles around his cock, his cock explodes, shooting his thick load of seed into her womb.

He withdraws gently, watching his seed gush out like a waterfall instantly. Osamu quickly flipped her over, shifting her lower body upward. His cock is impaling her once again.

“’Samu – oh! Wait…” Y/n reached a hand behind to push against his abdomen but it was futile. He gripped her hips tightly, pounding into her from behind at a faster speed than seconds ago.

He leaned forward, his large frame easily towering over her. He licked her shoulder blade up to the sweet gland that was now emitting a heady aroma, one that was causing his mouth to water.

Osamu’s hands found her small ones and he threaded his fingers through hers, “need to mark you…”

Though he just came, he was ready for a second round. He spread her thighs wider, angling her so that he could reach her cervix. He groaned when the tip of his cock pushed against the secret opening of her cervix. “Need to knot… need to knot my omega…”

The cervix opening had the ability to stimulate the tip of an alpha’s cock. The tip becomes redder, and thicker to be able to lock the potent seed in the womb to ensure breeding was successful.

To prove, Osamu winced when the tip of his cock enlarges, he felt every ridge of Y/n’s pussy walls.

Y/n felt it herself, she whimpered into his pillow, her thighs widening and hips lifted to find comfort in the bulbous tip enlarging inside of her. She can feel it poking her cervix entrance, simulating and forcing entry.

As soon as the tip broke the barrier and her cervix opened allowing entrance, his knot inflated and filled her womb. Osamu took the opportunity to sink his teeth into her skin, over the sweet gland, breaking the skin so his essence could now mix with hers.

This will tie her forever to him.

It is natural her body will fight against him, he quickly shifted them onto their side, lifting her leg over his to keep pressure off the knot. His cock was still ejaculating, filling her womb beyond its limit. Glancing over, he can see her lower belly bulging almost as if she was already pregnant.

“Shh, it's okay,” he cooed, he licked her mark to cool the broken skin. He released his pheromone to calm her down.

Once mated, an alpha’s pheromone can provide more than before. It is the only medicine that will help their omega.

Her whimpers quieted down but she hugged his arm tightly. “It hurts…” she murmured, “too much…”

“I know, baby. I know. I’m sorry. You will get used to it. Only you can handle my knot. Only you…” He kissed her temple. They lay there in silence, just enjoying the quietness of each other’s breathing. “I love you.” He had yet to speak those words to her, but he felt this was a perfect time to tell her. “I think I have loved you from the first time I met you.”

Y/n kissed his bicep, “I love you too, Miya Osamu.” The romantic moment was ruined when his hand began to fondle her breast. She playfully slapped his hand but it remained, he squeezed them, sending a jolt down to her pussy. “Stop…”

Osamu groaned, feeling her squeezing around his sensitive cock. “I didn’t get to give them attention today,” he reached to cup the other side, flickering her perky nipple.

“Leave my small tits alone,” she demanded, yet moaning and squirming under his touch.

His knot had slightly deflated but she was still extremely uncomfortable from being plugged up with his cum.

“I love your small tits,” he kissed her neck, making sure to lick her mark. “It’s my third favorite thing about you.”

“Third?”

“Yep, first is your face, second is your pussy and third are your small tits.”

Y/n burst out laughing. “Well, I hear they do get bigger… once I become pregnant.”

One of Osamu’s hand slides down her front and rest against her bulging belly. “Yes, I promised I’ll breed you until you’re pregnant.” He tugged her closer, spooning her small frame. “They will get bigger with milk for you to feed me.”

“You?” she laughed.

“Well, one side, the baby will have to share one side with me.”

Weeks later, she found out she was expecting twins.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just have to eat your pussy while you breastfeed them.”

. . .

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

E/n: he sooooo nasty I love it.

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu miya osamu #miya osamu smut #miya osamu fluff #osamu smut #osamu miya #osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #osamu a/b/o #haikyuu a/b/o #alpha beta omega

551 notes · View notes

nariism · 9 months

Text

my brother's best friend

pair. miya osamu x gn!reader

content: fluff, attempts at humour, miya atsumu is a little shit, first loves, mutual pining

synopsis. miya osamu takes pride in the fact that he’s the smarter of the twins. he, in fact, is not (especially when it comes to you).

wc. 3.1k

a/n: om nom nom nom nom brother's best friend trope nom nom nom... ok i have to come clean about this fic i literally wrote the first draft for this in 2021 on WATTPAD and it's been sitting dormant forever up until recently. enjoy 🫶

‎oh my god, how did i end up here?

it’s the only thought repeating over and over again in osamu’s head as he sits there staring at you. you’re too preoccupied with the menu in your hands to notice his unwavering gaze, scanning through it and muttering to yourself indecisively about what to order.

of course, the question of how he ended up here on a date with you could be summarized in one simple sentence:

miya atsumu is the world’s biggest idiot.

if kita or aran were here they would surely be poking fun at him right now, lecturing him about how his dna is a perfect carbon copy of atsumu’s. and while they would be right, osamu is convinced his brother has at least 70% less brain cell capacity.

the thought makes him feel a little smug. (he’s in the class under atsumu.)

you were friends. at least as far as how often you saw each other, he considered you good friends. maybe. not that he knew all that much about you other than the fact that you were constantly... around. if he didn’t know that atsumu was the biggest knucklehead on planet earth, he would have assumed you were dating. but he knew his brother was too invested in volleyball to be seeing anyone seriously, and you didn’t didn’t seem like the type to mess around with guys like him anyways.

you were way too level-headed for that despite the raunchy, head-turning jokes you liked to tell, which honestly might be the reason why atsumu keeps you around.

whenever you came to their house, you would stick to lounging in atsumu’s room or the living room. you typically avoided disturbing osamu and the rest of their family — not like they minded having you around. no, in fact, their mother had a strange soft spot for you. you were quiet and well mannered, until it was just the three of you and suddenly an onslaught of fierce attacks on poor atsumu would commence.

for the majority of your friendship, you have stayed out of his way and he stays out of yours. you only talk to each other when deemed necessary, like when walking home from school or when you shyly greet him at the door because atsumu is on the toilet. he does, however, rejoice in the fact that there is another person on the atsumu hate train, and appreciates that you’re at least colourful with your insults. it’s impressive, really.

(he would never admit it. never. never ever. but it warms his heart a little that there’s someone out there just like him, expressing their love for miya atsumu in less conventional ways.)

you were quick witted and funny. a free source of entertainment when he would grow bored of his brother’s shenanigans. and it was a two way street, because when you needed a break from atsumu, osamu was always right there.

you were noticeably gentler with the younger of the miya twins: asking him how school was, and if he needed help with his chemistry homework, and what he had for lunch. menial little things, but sometimes he found himself thinking that it was the highlight of his day.

otherwise, your presence in his life is, as osamu considers it, indifferent.

sure, he likes to look at you. and sometimes, maybe, he wishes you and atsumu would invite him around more often. it also doesn’t help his heart when you’re so nice to him, like when you’re all having dinner together and you pretend you don’t want the last dumpling on your plate and shovel it onto his. he likes that. or when you invite yourself into their freezer for ice cream, you always make sure to grab an extra one for him. there have been multiple occasions in which you’ve wordlessly slid him your notes to copy, too.

you were good at that; knowing what others wanted and being more selfless than the average person. you’re a people pleaser, and though he and atsumu used to make fun of your type when they were kids, your charm is undeniable.

unfortunately, actually making any sort of move on you is out of the question. not only would it potentially complicate things between you and him, it would also risk putting a strain on your friendship with atsumu. making his brother’s life a living hell is what miya osamu was born into this world to do, but for some reason his stomach turns at the thought of ruining your friendship.

you were just atsumu’s cute best friend. nothing less, nothing more. and he would very much like to beat the “i fell in love with my brother’s best friend” allegations, thank you.

he realizes he’s still looking at you intently with his arms crossed over his chest. he watches as your nose scrunches a little in thought, trying to decide between their two best sellers. he sighs in relief when you get up to order for yourself, tucking a stray hair under his cap before going back to sulking with his thoughts.

atsumu had a lot of bad ideas. so many that if they sat down and listed them all out they might be there for a couple days. but this? this is his worst one yet. and how osamu managed to get roped (bribed) into this, he will never know. but here he is, and here you are, and here atsumu is not.

he really should get better at saying no to atsumu.

(“c’mon, ‘samu! please? for me?!”

“what the hell? no. that’s a shitty thing to do. just tell them ya can’t go.”

“but it’s their birthday! they were lookin’ forward to this. they’ll hate me forever if i bailed!”

“and? why would i help you? ‘specially with somethin’ so stupid. it’s your fault you didn’t plan better.”

“don’t be like that, y’know it was a last minute thing!”

a beat of silence.

“pretty please? it’s their birthday… you guys are friends too, right?”

osamu can’t believe he’s entertaining this stupid idea for even a second. you’re not an idiot. you’d know it’s him with a single glance.

“this is an all time low, even for you. they’ll notice it’s me right away. are ya crazy, ‘tsumu? hit your head or somethin’?”

“it’s just this one time! i’ll never ask ya for anythin’ ever again. never ever ever ever, i swear it.”

“...’tsumu…”

“don’t sound so tired with me! do this for your big brother. have i mentioned it’s their birthday?”

big brother? osamu scoffs loudly.

“you actually mentioned it three times. and yer only a couple minutes older than me. but... fine.”

“don’t be such a jacka- wait, what?”

“i said fine. but you owe me lunch for the next two weeks.”

“deal!”

“... are ya sure they won’t know it’s me? i mean, i really think you should reconsider-”

“oh shut up, ‘samu, we’re identical!”

“just know that i won’t hesitate to throw ya under the bus if shit hits the fan.”)

what a terrible plan. pretending to be atsumu was proving to be harder than he initially anticipated. he would have thought that spending every agonizing, waking, living hour with his brother would have trained him well enough, but atsumu is so no-chill that it’s somehow making this already horrible idea even worse with every passing second.

surprisingly, you haven’t said anything. you haven’t acknowledged the massive elephant in the room. this could only mean one of three things:

1. you’ve noticed, but you’re desperately trying to spare atsumu’s feelings and osamu’s embarrassment by not bringing it up.

2. you’re dumber than he thought. dumber than a rock, actually, if you didn’t take one look at osamu and know it was him.

3. you are a cruel, wicked, evil, deranged human being who finds osamu’s situation entirely hilarious and wants this to go on for as long as possible.

judging by your casual banter, he’s willing to bet it’s either option one or two. you’re twirling a lanyard around your finger when you finally return with your drink of choice in tow. next destination: the local aquarium. atsumu put a surprising amount of effort into planning the day.

it’s a shame he hadn’t accounted for planning himself into it.

‎he shouldn’t have agreed to come here.

spending time alone with you like this was bound to stir up feelings he’d long ago buried in the hollows of his heart. of the miya twins, osamu was always better at keeping his emotions under wraps. there were rare occasions in which he lost his cool, in which he was actually somehow worse than atsumu, but in general he was as level-headed as you were.

you’re ruining him and his plans to never acknowledge his feelings for you.

it’s unfair, really, how his heart seemingly gets lodged in his throat when you cling to his arm so tightly, laughing and pointing out all the funny-looking fish. and when you point at something called a vampire squid, raving about how long it took you to find one in animal crossing, he nearly crumbles to his knees and puts his head in his hands.

(in other words, he’s totally whipped. he’s not beating those allegations.)

osamu thought he could get used to looking at anyone’s face. he always found people boring — he grew up being the other half of his brother, after all. the miya twins are many things, but boring is not one of them, and to entertain them you have to be someone with a special brand of humour.

but now, as he looks at you with the soft blue glow from the tank shining against your face, he can’t help the thought that crosses his mind:

i could never get tired of this.

“... hailing from the depths of tropical and subtropical waters, the vampire squid feeds on marine snow.”

he blinks back into reality, eyes drifting from you to the sea creature you’re admiring, then back to you. “marine snow? sounds gross.”

“it’s the debris that falls to the lower levels of the ocean. lots of deep sea creatures feed that way since it saves them the energy of needing to go hunt.”

osamu seems skeptical. “they really just eat anythin’ like that?”

your head turns to look at him. there’s a little smile playing on your face, like you seem amused by what he just said. “sounds like someone i know.”

he makes a strange expression in response. were you talking about him? did you often bring him up when you were alone with atsumu? the soft and fond look in your eyes doesn’t help his racing heart. the idea that you and atsumu talk about him in private so sweetly makes his face burn slightly in embarrassment.

he shakes his head to get the thought out of his brain before stuffing his hands into his pockets.

your arm finds his again, locking together. it’s an oddly intimate action, even if you think he really is atsumu. he doesn’t know you to be the most touchy person on earth, though he supposes he can’t see what you’re like behind the closed doors of his brother’s bedroom. his blood boils for some reason.

you stop at the next tank, the one situated in the centre of the room filled high with kelp and schools of tiny fish. you’re looking at them with wide eyes, light shimmering in them. he could cry right now. you look like an angel bathed in the shadows of dancing fish as your gaze carefully follows a school circling around the top of the aquarium.

there’s a feeling swimming inside of him, unfamiliar and oh so dreadful. he can feel it in raging in every part of him — in his heart, in the fiery pits of his stomach, in his throat — and he knows exactly which word comes to mind.

miya osamu may be in the lowest class in his year, and he might share a single brain cell with his brother, but he’s read enough books to describe this feeling. he’s listened to enough love songs to know this ache in him.

if you asked him ten years from now, he’d tell you exactly the same thing as he would right now; that your first love is always petrifying.

“pretty, aren’t they?”

“yeah. real pretty.”

but he hasn’t looked at them even once. how could he when there’s a living, breathing angel standing next to him?

‎osamu delivers you to your doorstep that night.

it feels like a dream, the whole day and having the privilege of holding your hand and feeling your body against his.

maybe it was just the greedy monster in him speaking. the laws of the universe dictate that if it’s you and osamu, atsumu needs to be there, too. the miya twins have always come in a package. a duo. there is no just atsumu or just osamu, at least there wasn’t until you came along.

suddenly it was you and atsumu. it was atsumu and osamu, and you. but there was never just you and osamu. it didn’t work that way.

well, screw the universe and its laws. osamu never believed in that astrology shit anyways.

he’s fully prepared to keep this day an untarnished memory — something to cherish when life goes back to normal and he’s unable to stand shoulder to shoulder like this with you again.

when you lean in to kiss him, there is only one thought repeating in his mind like a mantra:

it’s just once. just one day. one last perfect memory.

you’re so close that he can feel your breath filling his lungs. his heart hammers where it rests in his chest, so loud that he can hear it thundering in his ears. it’s then that he realizes this is wrong. all of it is wrong.

he recoils back with lightning speed, and his heart aches at the sight of your disappointed and puzzled expression. but it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to atsumu either.

he cares about both of you too much to be selfish right now.

how could he possibly risk hurting two of the people he cared most about in the world? he couldn’t be that self-centred, to be able to steal a kiss from you just to keep his memories of this day perfect.

perfect doesn’t exist if none of it is real.

“i’m not… i’m not who you think i am.”

he slides the hat off his head with shame burning in his cheeks, avoiding your eyes like a child who got caught with his hand in a cookie jar. it was time for him to be honest, both with you and himself.

“look, yer really cool. and i– crap, it’s complicated, ‘kay? i might like you. like– like you, like you. i wasn’t thinkin’ straight. 'm really sorry, i know it was wrong to string you along, i was just havin’ so much fun today that–”

his mouth suddenly comes to a halt as you reach forward and capture his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them together so he’ll stop rambling.

you look at him with a confused but amused smile. “um, ‘samu? i like you, too.”

“what?” he sputters out as much as he can with his face still held in place. his brows furrow, but all rational thoughts have stopped flowing in his mind. he’s staring at you like a flabbergasted idiot, so you continue.

“why else would i agree to go on a date with you on my birthday?”

“but– i– huh?”

your head tilts. “this was a date, wasn’t it?”

it dawns on him then. it had never occurred to osamu that there was another explanation for your strange lack of acknowledgment that he is painfully easy to see through:

4. you like him and simply thought this was a date. you like him as much as he likes you, which is a stupid amount. after all, he likes you enough to go through with an infinite number of atsumu’s terrible ideas just to make you happy.

of course you weren’t that dense. of course he was found out the second you laid eyes on him. of course he had misread the entire situation because he was blinded by his brother’s boisterous claims that they were indistinguishable.

“this is ridiculous. i can’t believe you–… atsumu somehow always pulls through even when he doesn’t mean to.”

“what do you mean?”

“whadd’ya mean, what do i mean?”

“about atsumu?”

“oh, he was freakin’ out about missin’ today and wanted me to go through this whole thing pretendin' i’m him so ya wouldn’t be mad at him.”

“but he already told me he couldn’t make it today? you really didn’t have to do… all this,” you gesture to his whole body with a flick of your wrist.

at your words osamu finally crumbles to his knees in pure agony. he looks up to the sky, to whatever god has forsaken him by making atsumu his other half, and sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. he can just imagine the shit-eating grin his brother has right now.

“i’m…” he pauses, carefully selecting his next words, “going to smother him with a pillow.”

you blink at him for a moment before all the pieces fall into place.

all the times you’d gushed to atsumu about your massive crush on his twin and the way he’d complain to no end about neither of you making a move, forcing him to watch on with mild disgust as his best friend and brother made goo goo eyes at each other. all the times he would “forget” his shoes at the gym and need to run back to grab them, pushing you into small talk with osamu. all the times he would suffer through your teasing just to see the two of you walking side-by-side sharing proud little smiles.

atsumu’s resume looks something like this: world’s biggest idiot, volleyball player, third-wheel, and tired wingman.

you’ll have to thank him later.

“no wonder you’ve been acting so weird all day! i thought you were just one of those guys who gets nervous on first dates!” accompanied by this statement is a laugh that makes osamu weak.

he grumbles. “what’s so funny?”

“say what you want, but you’re as dumb as ‘tsumu.”

“no… please… don’t compare me to that nitwit… i might have a heart attack at this rate.”

you snicker quietly as you help osamu back onto his feet, eyes shimmering with joy as you let his confession sink in.

“you’re right, he is an idiot.”

“dumbass.”

“moron.”

“he’s gonna hate us even more from now on,” osamu smiles uncontrollably, inching closer to you again.

“yeah?” your lips brush against his daringly, “i can live with that.”

EXTRA:

🏷️ @hyomagiri (im dead like actually dead)

#— whispers in the wind ✧#he's so stupid i wanna kiss him so bad #haikyuu #haikyu #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #osamu miya #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #osamu miya x reader

642 notes · View notes

hotvinimon · 3 months

Text

Miya Osamu <3

“Samu…Samu…Don’t look directly, but I can see your doppelganger… just behind you.”

You and your sweet, loving, handsome, onigiri man of a boyfriend were on a night date in the street of Shibuya. Osamu was busy in choosing what to eat first, while you took pictures. Suddenly you saw Osamu’s clown toghether with a curly haired, bitch-faced man, an orange head and an owl faced beefy boy.

To say that you were shocked would be an understatement. A guy… or I should say Samu’s clown was chatting with his friends just few meters behind your boyfriend, only his hair's more blonde, and his vibe's more... clownish.

“Doppelganger ??? what do you even me-” “CAN’T YOU FUCKING WHISPER ?? AND DON’T LOOK LIKE THAT. BE MORE SUBTLE.” you whisper yelled.

Suddenly the doppelganger looked in your direction and frowned comically and advanced towards you.

“OH MY GOSH, SAMUUUU, HE'S COMING... HE'S COMING THIS WAY!”

Samu quickly looked into the direction, and unlike you he was frowning ??? similarly like his doppelganger ??? what the heck was going on. Was there some kind of invisible mirror thing that you couldn’t see.

Even the doppelganger's buddies seem cool, like they're in on the joke.

The doppelganger was now, standing in front of you and looking at your boyfriend, like he was communicating with his eyes. Before anyone could say anything…

“OMYGODOMYGODOMYGOD… CAN I TAKE A PICTURE WITH YOU SIR ????”

All eyes are on you, but who cares? It's not every day you meet your boyfriend's mirror image.

“Oh.. of course cutie, are you a fan ??”

“Well, I’m a human but I’ve never seen my boyfriend’s clown my entire life.” you giggled like a kid.

“DON’T DO THAT”. That ‘DOPPELGANGER’ yelled at your boyfriend.

“I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING.”

“YOU ARE MAKING GOO-GOO EYES AT HER. LIKE YOU MAKE AT FOOD.”

“I AM NOT.”

“YES YOU ARE”

All you could hear for next fifteen minutes was funny curse words and skin slapping sounds. Meanwhile, the curly-haired dude shoots you a concerned look.

“Ohhhh… so you are his big brother. Nice to meet you Tsum, I’m y/n, Samu’s s/o.”

Unlike your fictional brain, the ‘DOPPELGANGER’ turned out to be your boyfriend’s twin brother.

“Nice to meet you too y/n/n” Atsumu showed his signature smirk.

“IT’S MIYA TO YOU AND IT’S Y/L/N TO YOU.”

"WHAT THE HECK, BASTARD? AM I SOME GIRLFRIEND STEALER?"

"MORE LIKE AN UNINVITED DATE CRASHER."

"AT LEAST I'M EYE CANDY."

"YEAH, WELL, MOM LIKES ME MORE."

More insults fly, more slaps echo, and the furniture starts to question its life choices. Meeting your boyfriend's twin? Not too shabby after all.

Keys -

y/n - your name

s/o - sgnificant other

y/n/n - your nick name

y/l/n - your last name

Requests are open

145 notes · View notes

shaisuki · 9 months

Text

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ─── A FAMILY WITH YOU

life was going well for osamu.

after high school and establishing his onigiri business, food is his passion after all then it comes to marrying his high school sweetheart, you.

married for five years and counting. marriage life is sweet and dandy with a few rocks in the road and osamu knew that it's part of marrying the person he loves and every married couples had been on that road before but there's something else that he craves for. a family with you.

he knew it will come sooner or later. respecting the decision you were still not ready and the shop needs another hand in managing it which he understands but still.

osamu who got that kind smile whenever a kid would delightfully eat the onigiri he made which he's proud of and ruffles the hair of the kid who tell him personally that it was delicious. it always is.

osamu imagines it, a mini version of him or you. possibly both. gazing behind at you in the counter where you placed the orders in their respective tables. smiling at the little kid seated between their parents and cooing at the toddler who has been making grabby hands at you. motherhood suits you best.

osamu can wait. he can wait. that what he tells to himself.

the resolution flew out of the window the moment he got you folded underneath him.

your legs tucked between your chest and his while you creamed for the nth time at that night.

"just wan' you to make me a daddy..."

he tell you while his hips snaps brutally against yours making you cry out. your nails digging crescents in his back. sheen of sweat coating you both while he whispers all the things he wants to do with you.

"you goin' to be a good mama, don't you?"

"i know you will. so good to me, baby. fuck."

the bed creaks while he kept repeating those phrases. his heavy balls slapping against your ass the more he pounds into you. the desperation of filling you up and making him a daddy taking a toll on him. like a man possessed with the desire of feeling the joy of having a family with you.

his daydreams and dreams filled with your round tummy. breasts heavy with milk. wide hips so lush and stretch marks decorating them. he would be with you in every steps of your pregnancy. watch your baby suckles in your breasts. milk leaking out and he'll have a taste of it.

"samuuu...." you moaned out while his huge cock fills you up. your legs burning into numbness while he fucks the living daylights out of you. your tummy squished into folds and you don't know if you can feel still your pussy anymore from being pounded roughly by your husband.

"you will going to be my baby mama, right?"

you can only nod with tears in your eyes, too drunk in the pleasure of getting fucked roughly. there's a another wave of pleasure rolling inside you.

osamu kissed you roughly when you nodded. he can't wait to have a baby in your arms and a toddler behind his head. gripping his hair with drool dripping at him while it excitedly points at something and happily garbling in his gibberish words.

that topples osamu to his pleasure. buried to the hilt, his balls slaps to your ass while you milked him for all he's worth and filling you up with copious amounts of his cum that will surely knock you up in no time.

there will no positive pregnancy test soon but osamu will surely enjoy the process of baby-making with you. making sure you're stuffed full of his cum every night.

#ᝰ.ᐟ shai's drabbles #— 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐈'𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 & 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒 #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #haikyuu #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu

378 notes · View notes

noosayog · 1 year

Text

[baby fever] ft. miya osamu

wc: 400

iwa | ushijima | atsumu | sakusa | kageyama

You adjust the gemstone earrings as you finish up the final touches of your outfit. It’s been a really long time since Osamu has been free for date night and he was sweet enough to make reservations for tonight. You’re just about ready when he pops his head in to check on you.

“Ya ready, babe?”

“Just a sec!”

You grab your purse and make your way out. Osamu is waiting for you in the entryway, standing at his full height and dressed in a crisp, white button-up shirt. His usual attire of a plain black t-shirt is already enough to make you stare, but seeing the way his chest fills out the shirt and just the slightest bulge in his tummy makes you practically salivate.

Osamu doesn’t question the way you gape, only chuckling a bit and getting on his knees to slip your heels onto your feet. He plucks your purse out of your slack grip and slides it on his shoulder, holding a hand out to escort you.

You have heart eyes all night, keeping your gaze fixated on him instead of dinner. Osamu, a regular receiver of your stares, doesn’t seem to mind and simply opts to feed you bites of his dish when you remain still for too long.

At the end of the night, Osamu asks for the dessert menu and talks you through the options, pointing at the options he knows you would like.

You stop him though. You’ve been thinking about having a whole different nightcap all night. “Don’t want dessert, ‘Samu.”

“No?” he raises a brow, corner of lips curling upwards and thumb brushing over your pulse point.

“No,” you say.

“Why not?” he teases. “Not feelin’ well?” He puts a warm palm on your thigh, where 2 of his thick fingers slip just a centimeter under your dress.

“‘Samu,” you whine, but it comes out more of a gasp. You involuntarily push your thighs together.

He lets out a low laugh and squeezes your thigh once. When he takes his hand back, his vacated spot feels cold, and he gives your ring finger a kiss in condolence. “I’ll go pay. Be right back.”

When Osamu comes back, he helps you into your coat and easily grabs your hand to begin the short walk home. You’re silent on the walk, feeling hot. It doesn’t get better as Osamu breathes into your ear, grazes his hand around your hips, and pushes your bangs away every time the wind moves a single strand out of place.

He’s in an astronomically good mood and finally, you give him the stink eye. “You’ve been teasing all night,” you pout.

“I thought you liked it.”

You harrumph and mumble, “you won’t like it so much when we accidentally pop out a kid 9 months from now.”

He raises a brow, pressing your whole body closer to his side.

“Says who?”

#noos writes #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq x y/n #hq x reader #hq x you #hq fluff #hq imagines #miya osamu #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #osamu miya #osamu miya fluff

3K notes · View notes

teamatsumu · 6 months

Text

kinktober 2023 -> day 22

knot - miya osamu x reader

word count: 1988

warnings: alpha!osamu and omega!reader, a/b/o dynamics, swearing, knotting, mentions of heat and rut

kinktober masterlist

You knew you would regret this. God, the amount of stupidity that was going into your decision right now would make you hurl later. But right now, you could give less of a shit.

It was with teary eyes and choppy, difficult breaths that you messaged Osamu. SOS. Come over ASAP. Your fingers trembled as you typed, and your vision was a mess, swimming, things going in and out of focus. Once you had sent the message, you dropped your phone somewhere out of sight, flopping back onto the bed, your sheets damp with sweat.

It was Day 6 of your heat, and even though normally things would start calming down by now, you were nowhere close to that. Instead of slowly cleaning up, like you often did during this time, you were still motionless on your bed, breathing hard and heavy, sweaty all over, and core clenching so painfully it made you cry fresh tears every few minutes. You had finally accepted that no amount of warm water bottles or silicone dildos could get you through this. Your body was craving an Alpha’s knot. And your heat was too stubborn to go down without it.

Hence the text to Osamu.

Osamu had been your friend for a few years now, ever since he opened his first ever branch of Onigiri Miya. Your personalities had gelled extremely well, so it was no wonder that you both made room for each other in your lives. Osamu was someone you trusted completely. He was kind, very caring, very perceptive, and very protective. He was the perfect Alpha, and of course, your little Omega heart had fallen head over heels for him. You were convinced however, that he didn’t feel the same for you. Osamu didn’t seem interested in courting at all, with anyone. He had briefly mentioned to you how focused he was on expanding his business, so you were sure he had no desire to be tied down with a mate at the moment. And so, your feelings remained boxed up, grateful to be part of his life in any way, even if it was platonic.

But biology could not be ignored. Even if you had gaslit yourself into believing you were fine being his friend, the Omega in you craved him. Desperately. Ardently. So no wonder you were still here, still in the very depth of your heat, with no signs of it stopping anytime soon. No wonder your Omega had taken over, mind blanking as you texted Osamu to come to you. You had lost to your Omega in your vulnerable condition, and you had beckoned the Alpha to you. Now you lay there, anxious, not knowing what you would do. All you knew was that you wanted him so bad you would do anything to get him.

The banging on your door startled you, and you heard Osamu’s muffled voice call out your name. With the last remnants of your strength, you stumbled out of your room and to the front door, clad in nothing but your tiniest shorts and skimpy crop top. The banging continued, even as your shaky hands unlocked and unchained the door. When you pulled it open, you nearly crumbled.

Your bloodshot eyes met Osamu’s calm, gray ones, his hand held up mid-knock. You saw the exact moment your scent hit him, his face scrunching and entire body stiffening, eyes widening in realization.

“You’re- you… Y/N, you-” His hand shot up to cover his nose, taking a step back. You abruptly shot forward, hand fisting the front of his shirt so he wouldn’t go any farther, tugging so hard that he stumbled towards you. You took advantage of that and pulled him further inside, shutting the door behind him and locking it.

Osamu groaned behind you, and you turned in time to see his eyes wandering over your almost bare body, your clothes leaving nothing to the imagination. His chest heaved, and a faint sheen of sweat was already forming around his hairline.

“Y-ya need to let me leave.” His voice was low, words muffled behind his hand. You almost moaned at the sound.

“Can’t.” You choked out, eyelids fluttering as you took in great big breaths of air, reveling in his wonderful scent, which was heightened by your sensitive nose. You stepped closer to him, knees buckling. He immediately stepped back. You whined in protest.

“Ya don’t want this.” He continued to reason. “Yer in heat. Yer not thinking straight.”

You shook your head furiously. “Always- always wanted you, Alpha.” You breathed. “Wanted you for so long. But you,” your lower lip wobbled. “You didn’t want me.”

Osamu’s eyebrows shot up, eyes widening in shock. He remained frozen in place as you moved closer to him, until you were right before him, standing on your tiptoes to nose at his neck, right on top of his scent gland. You heard him release a shaky exhale, hand dropping from his mouth as he finally breathed in your scent.

“Fuck.” His voice was strained, not protesting or stopping you as you moved forward, body pressing to his. Your tongue lapped over his neck, scenting him with fervor now that he wasn’t stopping you, and the Omega in you purred in satisfaction when your scent started mixing with his. And he was letting you.

“Omega…” His protest was weak, hands already brushing over your bare sides, fingers flexing as if he was holding himself back. So you decided to give him one final push.

“Why do you think my heat won’t go down?” You mumbled into his neck. “My Omega needs you, ‘Samu. Needs your knot. Give it to me, Alpha. Need it so bad.”

That’s all it took.

Osamu bent his head until his lips met yours, hard and rough. You keened into his mouth, one hand reaching up to tangle tightly in his hair while the other fisted his shirt to pull him even closer. Osamu’s hands were running wild over you, your waist, your hips, running down your back until they squeezed your ass. You arched into him, sighing when his fingers brushed over your clothed slit, groaning low.

“Yer soaking.” He whispered, voice low and thick with want. He pushed the crotch of your shorts aside, immediately shoving two long, thick fingers inside you. You cried out at the feeling, clenching desperately around him.

“What’d ya use?” He asked, his other hand gripping so tight at your waist it almost hurt. “Dildo? Vibrator? Tell me. What’d ya stuff this weepin’ cunt of yers with?”

You moaned at how filthy he sounded, at how prominent his accent got when he was turned on. You mumbled your answer into his neck, clinging to him as you ground your hips down on his fingers, trying to prolong the relief his fingers brought. He chuckled.

“Dirty little ‘Mega. Ya want me this bad? Look at ya, yer drippin’ down my whole hand.”

Your knees buckled again, and this time Osamu didn’t stop you. Instead, he lowered himself along with you, until you were sprawled right there, on the floor of your living room, legs spread and welcoming Osamu as he fit snugly there, his tongue running wildly over your entire neck, nosing at your scent gland. His throbbing erection pushed into your thigh, his fingers still working into you at a leisurely pace. You whined.

“Alpha, please.” You choked out, pleading with him through teary eyes. “Please.”

Osamu pulled away from your neck to look down at you, and you noticed how flushed he was. His hair was a mess, face red and eyes wild. His lips were swollen and bruised, and through his open mouth, you could see the faint beginnings of his canines. They were elongating. Your eyes widened.

Was your heat triggering Osamu’s rut?

You didn’t have it in you to think about it further because Osamu was sitting up, undressing quickly and doing the same to you until you were both bare before each other. You moaned at the sight of his cock, hard and throbbing, flushed to an angry maroon shade. The base was already a little swollen and your mouth watered at the sight. Your Omega keened. There it was. His knot. And you needed it inside you now.

Osamu seemed to be on the same page, because moments later he was pushing into you, taking advantage of the copious amounts of slick you were producing to slide straight in, groaning loud when his hips met yours, buried into you to the hilt. Your jaw went slack, immediately feeling your body temperature go down and the pain in your core settle slightly. Your Omega preened and settled, finally getting what it so desperately craved. Your Alpha on top of you, stuffing you full of his cock, the promise of getting his knot soon.

(Of course, he wasn’t your Alpha. You were pointedly ignoring that fact.)

Osamu was quick to set a punishing, fast pace, ramming his cock into your wet hole with all his might. You gasped and shook under him, eyes rolling up in your head at the feeling. It felt divine, after days and days of wanting exactly this, finally having it felt like an out of body experience. Your cunt was fluttering in delight, so happy to get what you wanted, and you felt your whole body sing at the feeling. You watched as Osamu smirked a little, smelling the shift in your scent.

“Feel good?” The question was rhetorical. How you were feeling was written all over your face, evident in the way your scent sweetened. Yet you still furiously nodded.

“So good, Alpha.” You whined, arching up off the floor, your breasts bouncing with each harsh thrust. “Fuck. Wanted this so bad. Wanted your cock in me for so long. God, need your knot. Please. Please.”

Osamu groaned, broken and shaky, cursing under his breath as he lifted your legs up to your chest, pressing down until you were folded into a mating press, his pace becoming even more rough and sloppy. You cried out at the feeling, eyes widening at how suddenly his demeanor had changed. You eyed Osamu curiously through your wet eyes, watched the gold specks appear in his eyes, watched his canines elongate until they were reaching below his bottom lip.

Osamu had just started his rut.

Your back arched up as your orgasm hit you full force, legs kicking and flailing as much as they could in Osamu’s bruising grip, feeling wave after wave of electricity zip through you. Osamu’s cock was swelling rapidly at the base, indicating how close he was to finishing too, the size of it catching on your abused hole with every thrust until he was moaning loud, pressing forward with force to make sure he could bully the knot into you. You cried out at the stretch, gasping when Osamu stilled and his cum started pouring into your cunt. He twitched and shook above you, riding out his orgasm as you ran a hand over his back, coaxing him through it.

All was silent except your heaving breaths. Osamu slowly lowered your legs until they were wrapped around his waist, knot still snug inside you. You sighed and wrapped your arms over his broad shoulders, eyelids fluttering shut. He carefully nosed at your neck.

“Feel better?” He asked, voice hoarse. You hummed and nodded in reply.

“What about you? I think I triggered your rut.” You looked down at him sheepishly, eyeing the sharp canines now prominent against his lips, and Osamu sighed, mouth twitching up into a smile.

“Ya did.” He relaxed into you even more, cock shifting inside you slightly. “Can’t say I’m mad about that. It was totally worth it.”

You giggled, leaning your cheek against Osamu’s hair as you both waited for his knot to go down.

“For what it’s worth, Y/N, I’ve always wanted ya too.”

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel l @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles @argwein

#miya osamu x reader #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #miya osamu fanfiction #miya osamu imagines #miya osamu fic #alpha miya osamu #omega reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu a/b/o #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #a/b/o #haikyuu omegaverse

1K notes · View notes

rinslutz · 7 months

Text

bro code - a haikyuu au (18+) REWRITE

two years after breaking up with your ex, osamu, you have moved on with your life. you finally get a big role in an up coming tv show after years of small insignificant roles. when you find out that your co-star is suna rintaro, your ex's best friend who you despise, you plan on dropping the role. however, suna isn't exactly how you remember and for some reason you start catching feelings.

pairings: suna x fem!reader & osamu x fem!reader

genre: angst! written + smau

tropes: actor!suna, actor!osamu, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers

warnings: 18+, love triangle, miscommunication, cheating, toxic relationships, unrequited love, explicit sexual scenes, asshole charactes

taglist: (open)

status: ongoing

cast

SEASON ONE ↓

episode one :

episode two :

episode three :

episode four :

episode five :

episode six :

episode seven :

episode eight :

episode nine :

episode ten :

episode eleven :

episode twelve :

episode thirteen:

episode fourteen :

episode fifteen :

SEASON TWO ↓

(coming soon)

taglist: (open)

286 notes · View notes

haikyu-mp4 · 12 days

Text

Break up with your bf

word count; 738 – f!reader

After high school, Osamu didn’t usually join Atsumu when he was going out despite the occasional invitation he received. However, every now and then he gave in and joined Atsumu with some of his friends, like this instance.

While he liked most of the people Atsumu played with, some of those he hung out with didn’t quite charm Osamu.

You’re not sure how your lowlife of a boyfriend became friends with a couple of professional volleyball players, but here you are. Your boyfriend brought you along to the bar again just to have you as his arm candy, but everyone could see how his eyes travelled to other women while he totally ignored you. You were getting bored, already feeling your interest in dating this guy reduced. He used to be quite sweet, but now you could see he was looking for someone better.

The lights were a little too wild and the music a bit too loud for you to just ignore his behaviour and do something else. You didn’t want to stoop to his level but you were really wasting a night, so for now you went to the bathroom. Your reflection stared back at you and looked straight-up bored. That’s quite enough, your boyfriend could find someone else to bring home tonight. Opening the bathroom door again with a new fire, you briskly walk out of the bathroom and almost reach the main room when you bump into someone.

Osamu let out a small ‘ouf’-sound and then chuckled, loosely grabbing your waist so you wouldn’t trip. You rested a hand on his chest and held your breath. “That’s some power, who are we beating up?” he joked. Your shoulders relaxed and you chuckled along with him, shaking your head before looking at him.

“Don’t worry about it, pretty boy,” you answered, returning some of the energy you felt from him.

“Really? I was hoping you’d say your boyfriend over there. Think me and my brother could take him.” he said, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of your group and dropping his hands from your waist.

When did he notice? You think back to the things your boyfriend did tonight right in front of the others. His hand on that one girl’s ass. The other girl he complimented while leaning over to the twins, one of whom had looked over at you while looking like a question mark. Your mind was telling you it was the one you were talking to now. You sighed in disbelief and considered whether or not you should answer. The music played over your heads and every other minute, someone would bump into either of you. The twins had introduced themselves at the pregame, talking to you for as long as their attention span could manage when the rest of the guys were trying to get them to drink. “Osamu, right?” he nodded, about to say something when you pretended to stretch your arms. “I’ll get him myself, but you’re welcome to join me when I leave,” you said.

“I’ll get our jackets,” he announced and you happily handed him your jacket number. With a new fire under your ass, you barged over to your group’s table, tapped your boyfriend on the shoulder and waited for him to turn around. Lucky for him, you weren’t actually going to beat him up, you were just tempted to.

Instead, you simply said “I’m breaking up with you,” before turning around and walking away. The bastard didn’t even attempt to stop you and Atsumu was cheering when you walked off.

Osamu waited by the entrance, a smirk growing on his face when he heard his brother’s cheers. “I take it that went well?” he asked and handed over your jacket.

“I want food.”

That’s how Osamu fell in love. And also how the two of you ended up at McDonalds. You stayed there for over an hour just talking and munching on your food, ex-boyfriend long since forgotten.

And maybe, though not if anybody asked, Osamu ended up in your bed the next morning. He’s holding his phone to his ear, listening as Atsumu told him about how the girl they talked to at the pregame had broken up with that idiot of a boyfriend she had, all while Osamu drew patterns on your bare back as you rested on his chest.

He’s glad he joined Atsumu for drinks, just this once.

masterlist

#miya osamu #haikyuu #haikyu #osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #fanfiction

139 notes · View notes

a-kaash-me-outside · 11 months

Text

a bit dirty - ch2

in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. prev | ch2 | next [masterlist]

// most likely a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 5608 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, more exposition in this one, osamu being a caring adorable little bitch oh my god, fucking your boss, names names names pet names a million pet names, slight slowburn? like they fuck but-, afab she/her pronouns

join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

you can’t take your eyes off of him.

you can’t stop staring at miya osamu for a number of varying reasons, each one maybe a bit worse than the last starting with oh he’s looking at you and ending with he’s your boss and also your most recent hookup with a bit of wow he’s so attractive sprinkled in the middle.

neither of you are saying anything. the tension is palpable, evident, buzzing in the air, and you just keep strong eye-contact with him because you don’t know what else to do. what do you say to him? do you instantly address it? let him bring it up? just walk out of here right now and leave in embarrassment?

osamu is about to open his mouth, save you from this repetitive torture in your head, but he’s interrupted by another voice.

“hey,” a voice calls from the kitchen, getting louder as the swinging door is pushed open and the blonde guy from last night emerges. “unless you need me to stick around and run front of house while you train today, i’m headin’ out, kay, samu?” his voice trails off at the end as he notices osamu just standing there, confused only until he sees you and remembers you right away.

“holy shit,” he says, “what? did ya track him down or somethin? thought you didn’t know each other’s na-” the end of his sentence trails off again as he notices the apron in your arms and the signature onigiri miya black t-shirt that you’re wearing. “holy shit.”

“atsumu, kitchen, now,” osamu says, low and commanding and despite how joking and mischievous this atsumu seems, he knows not to push it any further than he already has. he pushes the swinging door open with his shoulder and walks back inside of the kitchen.

it’s quiet again, but he’s already spoken now, the air of his voice still lingering as you wait for him to talk once more, to you this time. you take a few more steps inside towards the counter and when you’re close enough, you let your hands rest on the edge. “sorry, let me just,” osamu says, turning around and setting the rice cooker down on the counter by the kitchen door. he wipes his hands on his white apron and then walks back over to you.

“we should probably talk about…,” he says, not finishing his sentence because both of you know exactly what you need to probably talk about. you don’t just know this man, he’s been inside of you. you nod in agreement, pushing the thought from your mind before you get yourself all flustered, setting your apron on the counter and tapping your fingers against the fabric.

osamu takes a deep breath very similar to the one you took right outside of the restaurant, “if you’re uncomfortable at all, i would be happy to ask around to my restaurant buddies to find you a new position or write you a letter of recommendation or-”

you cut him off, shaking your head curtly, “that won’t be necessary, really.”

“are you sure?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, “i want to make sure that-”

“miya-san,” you interrupt, eyes flickering down to his name tag, “i’m not uncomfortable, i swear. i’m okay. i’m good. i wasn’t even working here when it happened. and it really isn’t a big deal, we don’t have to make it a big thing. it happened. it’s over. it’s a new morning,” kinda, you think, “and it’s in the past. i’m great to just move on from it.”

osamu is quiet, thinking over everything you’ve said, but not saying anything in return.

“if- if that’s okay with you,” you tack on.

“yea, of course,” he responds quickly, “i just wanted to make sure that ya have a comfortable work environment and that,” he clears his throat, “last night doesn’t hinder that fact for ya.”

you shake your head back and forth. the thought of going through the process of finding another job, even with a recommendation letter and networking, is already giving you a headache. besides, you’d probably end up working for someone osamu knows anyway and then what? they know about what happened or they don’t and you have to guess whether they do or not? you shake your head harder. you can get over this.

“‘m sorry i didn’t notice. if i’d’ve known your name or somethin’, i would’ve maybe put the pieces together, but i only saw your resume, didn’t talk to ya or meet with ya, y’know?” he says, hand on the back of his neck, eyes on the floor for just a moment.

“no worries, i get it,” you say, tiny laugh, but you’re really thinking, wasn’t expecting my boss to be out at a club 6 hours before my shift.

he hums, a knowing smile on his lips as if he read your mind and shot right back, wasn’t expecting my new employee to be out at a club 6 hours before her shift.

“it won’t happen again,” you say, “already out of my mind,” you lie.

“right,” he says, smiling, and you’re not sure if you’re reading into it or if it’s real, that same regret and hesitancy that you saw last night as he left without your number. he shakes whatever it is quickly, “lemme teach ya how to make the onigiri.” he nods towards the kitchen, pushes the door open for you and you walk under his arm, sliding past him, shoulder brushing up against his chest in passing.

already out of your mind, yea fuckin’ right.

/\ /\ /\

if there was a chart of the relationship between the time you’ve spent working at onigiri miya and the tension between you and osamu, it wouldn’t be linear or exponential or constant in any sort of way, it would be disruptive, an arrhythmic pattern of ups and downs.

even if the two of you hadn’t mentioned it a single other time, it lives in both of your heads, the events of that night. well, you know that it lives in your head, you suppose you can’t speak for osamu completely, but you can’t imagine the things that remind you of that night don’t remind him as well.

there are spans of time when you don’t think about it for weeks, usually the times that you aren’t scheduled as frequently or the back to back shifts that you spend busy out of your mind, no room in your head for anything other than work work work work work. you’re not sure if you welcome or rebuke these bouts.

in fact, between these mindless interim periods and the many instances that filled your head with reminiscing thoughts, you’ve survived over four months at onigiri miya without a single incident. rather, without a single explicit incident.

there were plenty of times that the chart spiked, that the chaotic pattern between your timeline and the tension skyrocketed only to fall back down to a normal level shortly thereafter, no follow up, no mention.

it was as simple as his strong hands on your hips, exceedingly busy as he rushed from one side of the bar to the other, sliding behind you, but not wanting to bump you out of the way, unwavering grip, fingers digging into the fabric of your apron and your soft hips beneath it, a low sorry under his breath ghosting over the skin of your exposed neck. the butterflies that accompanied it and the bewildered look you threw him and the one he threw back as he approached the other side of the bar.

it was as quick as him reaching over your shoulder for something in the kitchen, fast-paced and thoughtless as his chest pressed up against your side, pushing you into the counter the slightest bit, hips pressing against your lower back, hand on your shoulder to steady you as he withdrew.

it was as innate as asking to tie your apron on one of your first days, hands smoothing over your stomach to find the strings without sight, pulling them a bit too taut as you step backwards into his hips, the way that he stayed put for a few moments before creating a bit of distance to tie it behind your back, one hand holding both loose strings as he adjusted it correctly against your waist, the carefulness of his fingers as they made a neat bow against your back and pulled it tight.

it was as effortless as a question, walking past the open door of the walk-in, “can i help you with that?” asking, arms already reaching up to support the heavy cardboard box that you were pulling down from the top shelf, not grabbing on until you nodded yes, and the second that you did, placing his hands on top of yours and guiding it down with you, soft hand on the back of your elbow, making sure, “got it?”

tonight is just another one of those nights, a night home to instances of incline and tension. you haven’t had one in a while. you enjoy living in these moments, drinking in the tiny amounts of callback to a really great night you once had.

“shit, we were so busy tonight,” you say, throwing your bag over your shoulder, undoing your apron and stuffing it in said bag. you remove the clip that’s containing your hair, punch your employee number into the computer, clocking out and exhaling a breath without the weight of your work day resting on your shoulders. you are no longer on the clock, no longer responsible for people’s order and the restaurant's reputation.

“yea, can’t believe you’re better than sumu and it’s only been a few months,” osamu laughs and you shrug with a false smugness.

“what can i say?” you ask, tilting your head into your shoulder as you hold your shrug, a very genuine and prideful smile replacing your joking cocky one. “i had a really great teacher.”

“ha! so did sumu,” osamu says, pointing at you, “promise it’s not me makin’ the difference.”

ba-bump.

osamu clears his throat in the small bout of silence, shaking his head as if to reset. “anyway, seriously,” he starts, “thanks for stickin’ around and all your great work.”

“no sweat,” you say, fiddling with the strap of your bag to distract yourself from the praise he keeps sending your way. “i’ll see you tomorrow? i switched shifts with aran, so i think you and i are opening together, yay.”

he laughs, dipping his clean rag into the clean sink filled with soapy water, ringing it out tightly before wiping it along the bartop. “i do enjoy opening with you,” he admits, “ya know what you’re doing and i don’t have to babysit you.”

“i’m telling aran,” you quip, smiling.

“i mean, i don’t have to babysit aran either,” osamu points out.

“then what’s the difference?” you tease, but it’s not really supposed to be a tease, not like this. the two of you often joked around with each other, but typically in larger groups where there were more people to witness it and the words held less weight than they do now.

osamu ignores your question, shaking his head as he throws a different one to you instead, “hey, didya even eat?” what was maybe meant to be distracting turns into straight concern, his eyebrows furrowed as he pauses his cleaning motions.

you tilt your head back. “shit, no,” you groan, “ugh, i was so busy i didn’t even remember to eat dinner.” you pull out your phone, opening your maps to try and find somewhere decent that’s open this late, somewhere fast and easy to get to. you let out another groan. “i could probably make it to-”

“i can whip ya up somethin real fast,” osamu says, cutting you off.

“no, no, you have to get home,” you wave your hand at him, eyes still on your phone as you scroll past all of the quick places on your way home that say closed closed closed closed. you point at him, “i know what time you’re in tomorrow, it’s far too late to make food.”

“i was gonna make myself dinner, anyway,” he says, hands up in surrender. you squint your eyes at him, skeptical. “honest,” he says and your words and breath get caught in your throat. you’re not sure he clocks the parallels and the way that that word has stuck around in the back of your mind for four months, but that coupled with his enticing smile is coaxing you back to the barstool. you set your bag on one of the seats.

“fine,” you say, finger tapping on the wooden bartop before grabbing your apron back from your bag and reclipping your hair. “but i’m helping you in the kitchen so it goes even faster.”

“alright, alright, deal,” osamu says. his laughter is already buried in your chest and now his smile is burned into the backs of your eyelids and soon enough his entire memory will be with you no matter where you go.

you follow his instructions in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and stirring the food on the stove and grabbing ingredients from the pantry and every so often when you’re not deadset focused on something and when he’s just casually moving around food in a pan, you watch him watch you with a very familiar look in his pretty gray eyes.

he’s behind the bar, standing as he’s about to take a bite of the dinner the two of you have quickly made and you’re sitting on the barstool in front of him. “do you ever sit?” you ask, spoonful shoved in your mouth as you realize how hungry you actually are now that you have food in front of you.

“usually, no,” he laughs, watching your lips close around the spoon and smiling only once your food-caused smile arises.

“well, come sit,” you say, gesturing to the seat beside you, “makin’ me feel like a customer or something, gonna start talking to you about the weather and how business is going if you don’t hurry.”

he doesn’t say anything, only offers a teasing eye roll as he pushes the bowl in front of the seat next to you and makes his way beside you, leaning down to pluck two beers from the fridge before joining you on the other side of the counter. he sits down, a soft grunt falling from his lips as he realizes that, huh, he really hasn’t sat down all day and, huh, it does feel nice, but maybe that’s not entirely due to the fact that he’s sitting. in fact, most of it is probably due to who he’s sitting with.

“see? isn’t that better?” you ask, reaching in front of him and taking one of the beers. you stand up in your seat, reaching over the counter and grabbing the bottle opener because you know exactly where it is without even having to look. he hums in agreement.

by the time your bowls are finished, so are a handful of beers, 2 for you, 3 for him, and long after your dinner is over, each of you are nursing one more. you have been for the better half of an hour. you haven’t mentioned the time and he hasn’t either and there isn’t any plan to.

“thanks for dinner,” you say, a bit quieter now because you’re facing him, knee up clashing against his as you swivel in your chair, but neither of you say anything about it and you don’t go to move it. you rest your head in your hand, chin on your palm as you smile up at him, warm from the alcohol and the fact that you’ve been dying to have a moment like this with osamu since the moment you were hired.

“wasn’t gonna let you go home hungry, doll,” he says, lets it slip in the lateness of the night and the laziness of the conversation and it takes him a few half-seconds to clock it. when he does, his mouth is open, back straighter, instantly about to apologize, but you reach out, desperate for him not to regret it, and you rest your hand on his upper thigh.

“i know,” you say, low and viscous, tip of your tongue swiping against your bottom lip, teeth biting down, slow blinks and fingers curling against his toned thigh, “you’re thoughtful like that, samu.”

you swear you can hear his heart skip a beat as he tries to take in everything that’s happening, tries to make a rational decision, but any rationality is quickly leaving his mind as you stand up, supporting yourself on his thigh, now standing between his chair and yours, little room to move, pressed up against the sides of his knees.

your movements are slow, giving him plenty of time to object or stop you, but he doesn’t. his lips part as your palm rests against his jaw, thumb under his chin to tilt his head up towards you and if you could hear his heart skip a beat earlier, you know he can hear how furiously yours is beating right now.

you lower your head, guide his lips to yours and kiss him again, finally. he tastes like beer and dinner, but somehow just like you remember him tasting that night. it takes him only a second to move, for his brain to catch up to the events that are happening, but when he does, it’s like something snaps.

hand on your lower back, standing up to meet you, to pull you closer to him, other hand on the side of your neck, fingers spanning the skin, massaging your throat, curling around the back, fingers grabbing onto strands of your hair, his touch is desperate.

his kiss is even worse, teeth dragging against your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, tongue mashing over yours, he can’t taste you enough. and you get it. you understand more than anyone because you’ve had to work with osamu for the last four months, see him every week, be reminded of his strong arms and tight chest and pretty eyes and soft voice and you need him very quickly, embarrassingly quickly.

you want to take your time, more time than you were given in the club, more time than you could ask for. you want to kiss down his chest and feel his heavy cock on your tongue and have his head between your thighs, but your mind is filling in all of the blanks, telling you exactly how the rest of the night is going to go and it doesn’t matter how much you want hours and hours of teasing foreplay and drawn-out intimacy, you’ve been empty since he came all over your thighs.

you let him hold your face, move you to kiss him exactly how he wants to be kissed, and you snake your hands down to his belt and his zipper. you need him now. you murmur it into his mouth, down his throat, “need you now, osamu, please, been so long, please.”

he hears you, every whiney syllable, every desperate word, and he’s not going to deny you, no matter how badly he wants to taste you like he didn’t get to taste you before. “okay,” he breathes, “not here, though, puppy, okay?”

he cycles through acceptable places for him to fuck you in his restaurant and the very open floor plan of the main dining area definitely isn’t it. absolutely not the kitchen either. his office is locked, would take an entire code, a 2 minute waiting period, and, at worst, a call to his security company. he looks down at you, eyes darting all around your whimpering face and you know what he’s going to say before he’s even said it.

you laugh first, and then nod. “guess i was right,” you say, “that you’re gonna fuck me in the bathroom again.”

he doesn’t know whether to roll his eyes again or shake his head jokingly or laugh along with you, so he doesn’t do any. “thank god,” he groans, pulling you through the restaurant into the single-room women’s restroom.

he shuts the door behind him and locks it as if anyone was even able to get inside of the restaurant right now. still, being trapped in these confines is reminiscent in the best way. it’s cleaner here, quieter. you’re able to focus on osamu instead of worrying about touching wet spots and if people can hear you.

you’re in front of the mirror staring back at yourself and osamu behind you. you go to turn around, to face him, but you watch his hands root onto your hips, fingers digging in to hold you still, and then you watch them slip under your shirt, the shape under the fabric moving from your tits to your stomach up to your neck and back down to the button of your jeans.

all the while, he’s grinding into you, hard cock confined in his jeans thrusting into your ass and all you can do- all you want to do is watch it happen. he’s not paying any attention to the mirror, but he makes sure that you are, moving your chin to stare directly back at yourself every time you turn your head.

he kisses the side of your neck as he quickly undoes your jeans, zipper, hooks his fingers into the waistband of both and pulls them down to your ankles, nudging them apart while he’s down there to spread them as far as they can. you can’t see him fiddling with his own, but you can hear it and you can see his arms moving in the mirror, head down, and you can hear his jeans fall onto the floor as well.

“can- can i ask?” you preface your question with a question, timid and sweet, and he looks up into the mirror, meets your eyes and there’s no way that he can turn you down.

“anything,” he says, hand on the base of your neck, heel of his palm pushing as it slides down your spine. your chest falls towards the sink slowly, both of your hands gripping the sides of it as your face gets closer to the mirror and the faucet.

“did-,” the question is circling in your head, but the embarrassment is rising to your cheeks, trapping it in your throat, you can’t get it out. you look at him through the mirror.

“what is it, doll? anything,” he reminds you, three fingers gingerly touching your clit, following up between your lips, scooping some of the mess that he’s already of you onto his fingertips to circle around his leaking head.

“did you- were you thinking about this? have- have you thought about this?” you ask, because you’re dying, burning, aching to know.

“that’s hardly appropriate, bunny,” he says, shaking his head.

you feel so warm, insanely warm, impossibly hot, but he leans down and kisses the back of your shoulder, replacing his lips with his grip as he pulls you backwards onto his cock, not using his hand to guide himself inside, but the tightness of your cunt sucking him in again. he grunts as he enters you, fingers like a vice on your shoulder so hard that if you weren’t so drunk off the feeling of being so full again, it might even have hurt.

he lets out a soft laugh, a tiny chuckle, “every fucking night, angel.”

you don’t get to watch it disappear inside of you, but you get to watch osamu’s expression as he does, eyes screwed shut, chin tilted upwards as a moan rises from his chest and leaves his throat. the stretch is so much better than last time, no prep from his thick fingers, just his fat cock slipping inside of you, hips driving it deeper until they’re right against your ass.

he pushes the back of your shirt up, places the heels of both of his palms in the small of your back, soft against your skin, and then he moves you back and forth on his cock. he moves his hips to match the pace, fucking into you repeatedly, eyes trained on your movements in the mirror, of your facial expressions melting as his cock drags against your fluttering walls.

“o-,” you whimper, “s- samu, fuck.” your fingers grip into the sink harder, trying to brace yourself as best you can, pushing back onto his cock as he continues to fuck you because you can’t get enough. you need him deeper, harder, more.

“should’ve told you my name that night,” he says, clicking his tongue. he reaches down, grabs you by the inside of your thigh to spread your legs even wider, and then rubs small circles into your swollen clit. your arms are shaking against the sink at the feeling. you’re unraveling very quickly, eyes closing, unable to focus on the sights in front of you and now it’s him that can’t take his eyes off your reflection. you look fucked out, gorgeous, adorable, eyes rolling back, trying so hard to stay strong as your first orgasm approaches.

“what?” you breathe at his last sentence, eyebrows furrowed, so much on your mind. he could mean a million things. you can barely focus on not crashing your face into the faucet let alone understanding whatever he’s saying.

“sounds so good coming out of your mouth,” he huffs, picking up the pace, balls brushing against the inside of your thighs as he fucks into you harder, “need to hear it forever, pretty girl.”

you don’t even say it to show off or to make him happy, barely register what he’s asking for, just need to repeat it over and over again because how else are you going to prove that the noises you’re making are just for him, are because of him. “s- samu, please, gon’ come, please make m’ come, samu,” you cry.

“can’t say no to you, dove,” he whispers into your skin, kissing the back of your shoulder softly as he rubs his messy fingers against your throbbing clit.

a symphony of thank yous and osamus leave your tongue as you come around him, walls choking his fat cock, gushing all over him as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. when you’ve come down from your high, when the immense pleasure has faded, you feel weak, drunk, so fucked out that you can barely stand, arms wobbling against the edges of the sink. osamu notices it in an instant, leans back, takes care of you, pulls you up with him, walking backwards, holding you in place on his cock as he pushes his back up against the bathroom wall. you can still see yourself perfectly in the mirror when you recover enough to fully open your eyes.

you can’t imagine that the way that he’s holding you now is a walk in the park, supporting all of your weight on his thighs and in his hands, but he’s acting like it’s nothing, or maybe it is nothing to him. regardless, you feel completely supported as he thrusts up into you and you fall back down onto his cock. you’re not moving a muscle, not expending a single bit of energy other than to keep yourself from falling from side to side and even that is helped by osamu’s hold on you.

you’re moving like a doll on top of him, bouncing up and down. he can barely get a good look, view obstructed by you, but he can see the ripples in the fat of your ass as you slam down against his hips. he can hear the sharp inhale every time his head dives as deep as it can go. he can feel how tight you are around him, how your walls hug him perfectly. he can remember how much he’s missed this feeling, how he’s tried to replicate this snugness with his fist and failed miserably.

“fuck, angel, gonna come,” he exhales.

“gonna fuck m’ thighs again, samu?” you ask, sweet and thick like syrup and he grunts at the tone, hips skipping just from the sound of your voice.

“yea, puppy, been thinkin’ bout this since that night,” he says, kissing the side of your neck, pulling out of you quickly as he feels the tightness in his balls. he slips between your thighs, soft and plush and messy. he fucks up into them the same way he fucked into your cunt. you squeeze your thighs around his hard length as tight as you can and he almost falls to the ground, a growl leaving his throat as he fucks your thighs even faster. you reach down, wrapping your fist around his head, swiping your thumb over the slit, tightening your grip as he fucks into it.

his release is unannounced, ropes of come spilling over your fist and onto your thighs, running down the insides of them gathering around the base of his cock as he slips through the mess he’s made, come leaking from the tip, drooling down the sides, between your legs and onto him.

he presses his back completely against the wall, slides onto the floor breathless, arm instantly wrapping around your stomach to hold you in place and you don’t mind one bit, leaning back into him, feeling his heartbeat against your back and his cheek nuzzling into your neck, small kisses being placed at the base.

you could’ve fallen asleep here, right here, in osamu’s arms.

you really could’ve fallen asleep here.

right here.

in osamu’s arms.

in the bathroom of onigiri miya.

where you work.

where someone could’ve found you in the morning.

a customer or a coworker or someone much worse.

fuck.

you’re too far down on the floor to see your reflection in the mirror still and you’re so grateful for it. you don’t want him to see the pained expression on your face and you don’t want to know what his looks like either. “we-,” you hesitate because you really don’t want to say what you’re about to say, “we probably shouldn’t- do this anymore-,” you whisper.

his response is instant, remorseful, embarrassed, “fuck, shit- yea, no, i’m so sorry-”

“no,” you cut him off, shaking your head, “i don’t- i don’t regret it,” you say, strong, “don’t regret the first time, definitely don’t regret this one, fuck actually, i really needed that, but i think maybe that should just be our last time.” if he can hear your voice break and crack a bit at the end, he doesn’t mention it as you push on, “‘ts a fine line we’re walking, fucking in the bathroom at work.”

“neither of us on the clock,” he notes and you suppose that does make it somewhat better, though, you’re not sure he’s ever really on the clock, “but you’re completely right.” he lets go of your waist. you’re slow to move to your feet, terrified that this whole act of cleaning up and going home will be weird and awkward, but the second that you’re off of him, he rushes to his feet, pulls you up gently, one hand on your waist to steady to you as you stand up straight.

he hands you tissues and fixes himself up, brushes your hair out of your eyes and looks at your lips as he does and the atmosphere of the bathroom isn’t awkward or weird, it’s impossibly hard. you don’t want to leave, suddenly feeling very guilty about telling him that you should probably stop these impromptu sessions because you’re not sure how you’re going to keep up with your side of the bargain at the very least.

“should we-,” you motion to the floor, to the wet marks and the fingerprints on the sink. he shakes his head.

“i’ll get it in the mornin’, okay? you head home,” he gestures to the front door.

“are you sure?” you ask, smoothing out your shirt, swallowing gently as you look into his soft gray eyes.

he nods, quick and assured. “i’ll see ya in the morning.” he hesitates before adding, “unless you want me to call aran and see if he won’t switch back with ya-”

you shake your head, “no way. you prefer opening with me anyway,” you tease, “i’ll see you in the morning, samu.” you offer a small wave as you leave the bathroom.

he doesn’t move until he hears the front door open and then close again and then he lets out a huge sigh, puts his face in his hands and lets out another along with a small, but audible, “fuck. fuck, how does she this to me?”

he doesn’t hear the door open and close the second time, the time that you actually leave after hearing his exacerbated private sentence with your forgotten bag in tow and a sinking feeling in your stomach.

the guilt is biting at your heels as you walk down the street to your bus stop, screaming at you to turn around and run back and kiss him very hard and very confidently, god knows you could’ve, but you don’t.

each step is heavy, dragging, and your bus shows up at the exact second that you make it to the stop, no time to overthink decisions or even look back in the direction whence you came.

and yet, despite everything, no regret is harbored in your heart or your veins, just an underlying fear that you won’t be able to follow your own rules very well or very long.

♡ tori's polls ♡ ( what drove u crazier? )

taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar @dabibreeder @s4m1 @perry-gallifrey @barely-coherent @katsunarii @thisbicc @jaynawayna @levis-wheelchair @sugar-crumbs @miyaslvt @sheeshizzy @i0nlyr343mut @ajbutasimp @snazzyturtles @idontevenknowlolls @nicerthanu @angelgvtzzz @lovely-part-time-whore @lilac-ski3s

(if any of these are wrong, off and you notice it LMK so i can fix em!)

join my taglist here!! ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

follow my writing updates tag: #♡ woah! tori's writing update! ♡ (pinned tag!)

#osamu x reader #osamu smut #osamu x reader smut #hq smut #hq x reader smut #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader smut #miya osamu x y/n #abd!#toriwritesshit

468 notes · View notes