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#osamu angst
cr4yolaas · 2 months
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not strong enough — miya osamu
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notes: based off of “not strong enough” by boygenius <3
tags: reverse comfort, cheating implications (no actual cheating), self-deprecation + jealousy (osamu), super heartfelt tho
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osamu hadn’t been home lately.
the kitchen was devoid of heart and soul. gone was the warmth that seeped into the apartment at his presence, or the comfort that his voice provided as it wafted through the halls. you didn’t see nor feel him anymore, save for the few glimpses of him getting ready before the sun could even greet your windowsill.
miya osamu was disappearing from your life, and you could do nothing but prepare for it.
you instantly feared the worst — that he was planning to leave you, or that he was seeking solace in another, or anything else that involved him separating himself from the life he built in your shared home. and so, delusion after delusion fed into one another, thus leading to an overwhelming bubble of anxiety that infected every inch of your bones.
when you had finally seen him — not just witnessed his shadow in the darkness of a lonesome bedroom — he appeared as if he had just barely dragged himself home. his skin hung heavy under his eyes, his hair was oily and tousled, his hands seemingly obtained an impossible amount of callouses and burns and scratches. you did not say a word, fearful for his response. instead, you held him in your arms in the doorway as he collapsed to the floor, the buckle of his knees bringing you down with him.
you could hear the remnants of an apology muttered into your shirt (his shirt, truthfully).
“what was that, ‘samu?” you whispered, your voice barely reaching his ears.
he turned his head to look to the side with his cheek still firm on your shoulder. “don’t ya ever wish things were different?”
his voice was hoarse; it was littered with exhaustion and pain and misery that you could not begin to understand. his question nestled itself deep into your lungs. you weren’t entirely sure what he was asking.
“a life where you’re living comfortably … and you’re free to do whatever your want …” he began to trail off, his features lined with sleepiness. “didn’t ya ever want that?”
you began to rub circles around his back, which was damp from the sweat that accumulated beneath his work uniform. you were waiting patiently for him to say it — to tell you to go pursue greater things to conceal his desire to rid himself of you, or that he didn’t deserve you because he had committed an act of betrayal. but instead, he continued, “‘tsumu’s doing great things … ‘n he’s rich ‘n happy ‘n famous and so much more. but what about me? what have i done?”
his words dissipated gradually. the cracks in his voice exposed him quite easily, not to mention the teardrops staining your skin. “you’ve done more than enough for me, ‘samu. i’m sorry i didn’t make you feel that way.” your boyfriend only gripped onto your harder, as if he were scared you would melt away if he didn’t.
“i jus’ wanna make you happy. i’m not sure if my job can even do that,” he muttered. “i’m trying to work harder at the shop, but i’m scared it isn’t enough.”
if it were situationally acceptable, you would have heaved a heavy sigh of relief. but it was not — so instead, you began to hold him impossibly tighter. “you don’t need to work so hard for me to love n’ appreciate you. everything about you is enough to make me happy,” you spoke softly to him. “as long as you’re by my side, i’m happy.”
miya osamu, despite his intricacies, was a delicate man at heart. that night, as you held him at the front door, the porcelain shell concealing his truest soul had shattered.
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torhues · 1 year
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osamu miya.
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"what do you think is the right way to ask someone out?" osamu's sudden question draws out your attention from your english assignment.
you take a moment to think, and while he thinks you're sorting out the most appropriate answers to his question, you're lost looking the answer to just one question that's plaguing your mind : should you tell him, or not?
"uh, who is it for?" you settle with the conclusion that he's asking that question out of curiosity. after all, you both are at an age where romance gradually becomes an integral parts of almost everyone's life.
out of all the years that you've known osamu— which is for around seven years for now— there has been only one time when you've seen him pursuing someone, and that was your best friend in middle school; and like the good friend you were, you helped the two of them confess to each other. you would walk to school and back, watching them holding hands, make plans without you because they were dating and it was understandable. you didn't mind, not at all, for you weren't in love with him at that point.
looking back now, you wonder if things would've turned out different if you hadn't helped your friend, or if you had realised your feelings a bit earlier. back then, you found it amusing to watch two people in love act like idiots, not knowing it'd all come back to you with a much larger impact.
"someone i like," he replies in his classic monotonous voice, as if he couldn't care less about not telling you who he has a crush on. it's exactly how it was back in middle school. had it not been for your friend, you wouldn't have known she was the one osamu had been planning to ask out all along. "goes to the same university as us, might even be in your biochem class,"
and your mind traces over the image of every single person in your class, crossing out the names that don't seem to fit osamu's taste in romantic partners. it's not the first time you're doing this. in fact, you've gotten used to figuring out whether he would be interested in someone just by looking at them. it's something you've learnt as you got better at hiding your feelings.
you've known him long enough to know who he might date yet still, couldn't bring yourself to believe that you could possibly have a chance with him.
"well, i can't tell you if i don't know the person," something about you makes osamu believe that you're a cupid. you're good at reading people, welcoming, albeit not so good at reaching out to strangers, but you are likeable, more than likeable, actually.
he has seen you set people up, including himself, and excluding yourself. the reason why you're not interested in pursuing someone anymore is beyond his comprehension. you have your fair share of knowledge about relationships, have dated a couple of guys before giving up altogether. it's not like your relationships didn't work, but it always seemed as if you were better off without them.
even while dating, it looks like your eyes are looking for someone else while being in someone's arms.
he sighs, putting down his phone. "just tell me what you like, people aren't much different after all,"
"uh, well, i hate public confessions and people who confess through calls and texts," which stands true for most the people out there. public confessions are more of a show off and confessing through texts is just, not enough. "also, i like to stay at home or be at some cafe so like, arcades, amusement parks and places like those aren't up to my liking either,"
you notice the smile on his face, along with the dreamy eyes and make him look prettier than he already is. frankly, the idea of osamu doing everything you like to ask someone else out hurts more than it should. you're probably not the only persons with those likes and dislikes. you know you should be happy for him and the person he likes because in the end, osamu is everything you, or anyone, could ask for.
"what about flowers? lilacs?" he asks, getting back to his phone.
"what are you doing, congratulating someone on their graduation?" his lips instantly curve into a frown, and you know in his head, he's snickering about how he is not the best when it comes to picking flowers, and that you shouldn't make fun of him for this. "i'd say tulips, they're a better gifts for first dates and confessions,"
one day, back in first year of university, osamu asked you why you don't seek relationships anymore. thinking about it now, you never gave him an absolute answer.
on some days, the answer would be academics, other days, it would be sadness looming over your shoulders after watching your ex with someone else. sometimes, you would excuse it by saying it's a waste of time and when asked when you're drunk, you'd say it's because you already have someone in mind, someone who can't be yours, no matter how much you try.
on some days, you wonder if osamu ever thinks about all the answers, or excuses, you gave to his question. there are times when the worlds makes compels you to believe that osamu likes you back, but then you realise that if he did, he wouldn't have asked out others all this time. you did drop hints regarding your feelings for him, and he failed to catch on for he for too busy looking at everyone except you.
"i wonder why you don't date anymore," the question arises again, flooding all the memories back into your head.
"i did have someone i liked, but he likes someone else," and you realise you can't lie to him anymore. "so, i gave up," osamu finds it amusing how you say those words with a smile, and he finds it despairing knowing that now, you've simply learnt to live with pain while pretending to be okay.
he shoots you a comforting smile, "i hope that wouldn't be the case for me,"
"me too," and you smile back.
he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket while offering soft apologies for the state your bed is in because of him. sometimes, you feel like there should be a warning for everyone who dates him : caution, this man doesn't know how to keep the bed clean. there are nights when you go to sleep thinking about how you're probably the only one who can keep up with this habit of his, and then wake up realising that it wasn't a problem to anyone it now so, it wouldn't be in future either.
it's like oscillating between the possibility and impossibility of him and you, caressing your little heart with false hope.
"ah, what should i say while confessing?" he shoots another question, making you snicker in annoyance.
"c'mon 'samu, you're not asking someone out for the first time,"
"just tell me,"
and you allow yourself to get lost in thoughts again. for a brief second, you consider telling him to not confess. the reason? your feelings, but again, you and him aren't meant to be together in the first place. it's just like how the saying goes— cupids must not fall in love— and you did the forbidden, knowing it would hurt you ten folds more every time you tie his threads with someone that's not you.
"i don't know, just give the flowers and ask if they'd like to go out with you or something," he chimes a faint thank you before leaving your room, and then your apartment. this time, you don't walk up to the door to see him off, neither do you wish him good luck, and surprisingly, osamu doesn't seem to notice your minute absence either.
it's fine, you tell yourself, one of you has to start getting accustomed to the other's absence. while the process has already begun for you, you hope osamu gets used to it as well. you need him to stop reaching you out for relationship advices because you don't know how long you can compose yourself before shattering once again. you try to distract yourself with essays due next month or even further, reading chapters that haven't been taught in class, reading research papers; just anything that can keep your mind off osamu.
you don't want to think about him, or what he's doing. maybe, he's buying the flowers, making preparations or calling his crush and asking them to meet him at their favourite place. even better if his crush confessed while he has been preparing a proposal of his own, it would be cinematic. you don't want to think about him at all, but the more you try, the deeper he engraves inside your mind.
the evening rolls by with you still sitting at your study desk with a bunch of papers lying around a not one complete work. there are rain splatters on your windows and you hope the off-season showers haven't ruined his confession. you can't wish for the other person to like him back, so you just wish for his happiness; whatever makes him happy, even if it means pushing him away.
and when you manage to drag yourself to the kitchen to grab something to eat and make yourself feel better, the sound of your doorbell hits your ears. the rain hits harder, you muster up the energy to walk up to the door.
there's osamu standing with a love sick smile and slightly wet hair, along with rain splatters on his shirt, and the bouquet of tulips in his hand. "will you go out with me?"
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nixnephili · 6 months
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NIX'S BSD GORETOBER
Day 4 Strangulation
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NoLongerHuman taking Dazai on a vacation to the shadow realm
-Nix🌙
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adoringhaikyuu · 2 years
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can u do the “wearing a men size sweater n they think ure cheating” with suna iwaizumi osamu n atsumu?
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THEY SEE YOU WEARING A MEN'S SIZED SWEATER AND THINK YOU'RE CHEATING ON THEM | 4
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characters: iwaizumi + osamu + suna + (gn!reader)
warnings: none
notes: i've been meaning to do another long hc again, it's been a while. i already did atsumu in part one! + iwa's is set in a college au but they are all adults in every one!
part one | part two | part three
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IWAIZUMI ⤵
honestly blame oikawa sfdgfhjk
he really didn't mean any harm by it, he was just being annoying as usual, but in a lighthearted way you know
he made a comment to an already stressed iwa and that's just a recipe for disaster
"you know iwa-chan," oikawa choosed to ignore the glare his friend sent his way, continuing to pester him with a sing-songy voice. "i think it's unfair how you don't let me wear your sweatshirts, but let y/n do." he tilted his head, "although, i'm sure they probably look way better in it than you do."
iwaizumi was about to smack his friend on the back of his head when he paused, hand in the air, confusing him.
he cringed, dramatically waiting for the impact. "if you're gonna hit me just do it already...i'm not a fan of the suspense, iwa."
iwaizumi frowned deeply, dropping his hand, weirdly scaring the other boy even more. "what are you talking about? i didn't give..."
instead of giving oikawa a chance to even react, he stormed off to find you, an uneasy, dark feeling growing in the pit of his stomach when he found you talking to some guy outside your class. luckily, you both had class in the same building today so it was easy to find you.
he stood there for a moment, just watching you, taking you in. you looked cute, but that pissed him off even more, and lit a fire on the spark of insecurity in the pit of his stomach.
were you cold? was that it? if so, then why didn't you ask him for his sweater? did you think he would say no? was he a bad boyfriend?
he was so caught up that he didn't even realize you were walking up to him, a sweet smile on your face. you grabbed his hand gently, your smile turning a bit more curious when you realized he hadn't noticed you approach him.
"hey haji." you squeezed his hand, "you okay?"
he blinked, his tense body immediately loosening up at your presence, but when he looked down at your clothing again, he frowned.
your brows furrowed. "what's wrong?"
he kept his eyes on your sweater. "you and that guy are pretty close huh?"
you looked even more confused for a moment before it clicked. "oh you mean that guy from my class? i mean..." you paused, thinking back to your interactions, trying to determine if you would consider you guys as close, but your boyfriend only took your silence as confirmation for his insecurity induced delusions. "no, not really."
his lips stretched into a smile that looked more like a grimace before dropping less than a second later. "then when'd he give you this?"
you tilted your head, "give me what?"
he pressed his tongue to the side of his cheek, his tell that he was pissed off, which only confused you further. he looked into your eyes, glanced back to your sweater and back to your eyes again.
you looked down as well, the confusion clear on your face as you looked back up at him, a feeling of unease sprouting inside you. "he didn't give me this?" your response came out more like a question and iwaizumi raised a brow and crossed his arms.
"well i didn't."
you looked at him plainly, "you know i have money of my own, right? i bought this myself." you crossed your arms as well, feeling defensive. "why on earth would he have gotten this for me?"
his mouth suddenly felt dry, and guilt washed over him. "i..." he sighed, letting his eyes close. you then realized how stressed and worked up he seemed. "i'm sorry. i was being a dumbass."
you stepped forward, a knowing, worrying look in your eyes as you placed a gentle hand on his arm. "haji you can't keep stressing yourself out like this with no breaks, you know the irrational part of your brain feeds you crazy information when you're like this."
his shoulders sagged embarrassingly as he grunted out a response. "i know."
you narrowed your eyes, "you're lucky i'm more understanding than most. if not i wouldn't have forgiven what you just accused me of."
he looked at you with guilty eyes, pulling you in for a hug by your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck. "i'm sorry, baby." he mumbled against your sweater, gripping you tight.
you rolled your eyes fondly, patting his back. "yeah yeah. let's go. you need a nap."
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OSAMU ⤵
honestly your relationship was fairly new
and he'd rather die than let him know, but atsumu's teasing jokes about his twin needing to hold you tight so you don't go find someone else better did get to him
and he was tired, he'd had a long day at the restaurant
you were meeting up with him for a late dinner after he closed up the restaurant for the night. nothing special, just a quiet evening for the two of you. you got there a little earlier just cause you were excited to see him, honestly. when you reached the door, you nearly bumped into a man walking in at the same time, the both of you too distracted to notice one another.
you both laughed it off and he opened the door for you, letting you walk in first. you just assumed he was being kind, but nothing more.
unfortunately, from osamu's perspective, the two of you looked very familiar with each other. a million thoughts started running through his head unwillingly, his gaze frozen on you smiling up at this man he'd never seen before. his heart dropped when he noticed the sweater you were wearing. it looked like it could fit the man next to you.
had you really already met someone better? but why would you bring him here? to end things?
you and the man continued to have your conversation as you approached the counter, and a very annoyed (and slightlyvery hurt) osamu.
having had enough, he cleared his throat and spoke up in a very monotone voice. "can i help you?"
you both perked up and looked towards the sound, and you smiled recognizing the man you came here to see. the man next to you spoke up, "oh i'm just here to pickup an order."
your boyfriend put both hands on the counter, spread out on either side in front of him, slightly flexing his muscles as he stared the man down. "what are you, the delivery guy?"
the man laughed, "no, man, just picking up a meal to bring home." he pointed towards the bag of takeout on the counter, "i think that might be mine actually––unless it's for you?" he turned to you questioningly, but before you could respond, osamu did it for you.
"we're eating together, actually. as soon as you leave." he raised a brow, daring the man to say something else, but he got the hint, giving an awkward smile to your boyfriend and thanking him for the food before greeting you goodbye and exiting the restaurant.
as soon as the door closed, you furrowed your brows towards osamu, slightly amused. "what's with the attitude?"
he crossed his arms, "he was being too friendly." you rolled your eyes and he tilted his head, looking you up and down. "what's with the sweater?" before he could say the next words that came to mind 'you replace me already?', you spoke up, looking down at your clothing.
"got it for three dollars at the thrift store." you looked up with a smile and his face dropped in realization, only for a complete different reason than you thought. "what's the matter?" your smile turned more mischievous. "don't like the thought of me wearing another man's clothes?" you batted your eyelashes playfully and he scoffed, shaking his head, before letting it hang.
"you have no idea..."
concerned, you made your way around the counter, placing a questioning hand on his back, gasping when he turned around and pulled you into his arms without a word.
"what's the matter, samu?" your voice was soft, careful as you hugged him back.
he simply held you tighter, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "nothin." he mumbled. "m'just never letting you go."
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SUNA ⤵
suna's was a little more understanding? i suppose
he was taking a nap when you got to his place
you were at that point in your relationship where you would come over all the time, you even had your own key
and you knew that he was probably taking his after work nap so you decided to come over and order food when he wakes up
but unfortunately during his nap he had a dream (more like nightmare) that you were cheating on him
he woke up, dazed, unsure of his surroundings and overwhelmed by what he just witnessed. he honestly couldn't tell if it was a dream or not because everything looked so real, his house was exactly the same as well. was it a memory? he was so confused.
he'd heard you on the phone talking with your friend about your problem. how you were cheating on him and you didn't want to hurt him, all the while you were wearing this other man's sweatshirt.
his heart rate picked up when he heard you in the living room, talking to someone. he slowly and as quietly as possible, made his way out of his room, practically tip toeing down the hallway to peek around the corner. you were talking on the phone...exactly as you were in the dream. maybe it was a premonition? then his eyes fell to your sweater...it looked exactly like the one he saw.
he went back to his room and got back into bed. maybe if he slept this off, everything would be back to normal. maybe this was the bad dream.
he was tossing and turning but he couldn't seem to fall asleep. so many thoughts were plaguing his mind.
a few minutes later, you made your way into the room. as he heard you coming, he contemplated pretending to be asleep, but he decided against it. he had to face this, right?
you smiled at him sweetly, being quiet so as not to disturb him. you know how cranky he gets when his naps are interrupted or if he's woken up before he needs to be. but when you noticed he was awake, you plopped down right beside him.
"hi baby." you leaned down to kiss his forehead and pulled back to look at him curiously when you felt him tense under your touch. "are you okay?"
he stared at you for a moment. "who were you on the phone with?"
"oh you heard that?" he narrowed his eyes. that was a suspicious answer.
"i'm sorry, i thought i was being quiet, i didn't mean to wake you." okay, maybe not. "i was talking to atsumu. he said he's been trying to plan a reunion dinner and you keep ignoring him." you looked at him pointedly and he rolled his eyes.
okay so you weren't talking to your friend. and you definitely aren't cheating on him with atsumu of all people. but there's still the sweater...
he had to be strategic about this.
"are you cheating on me?"
or not.
he blinked at you, shocked by his own words. you blinked back.
"...are you still asleep?"
he blinked again. "no?"
"are you sure?..."
he narrowed his eyes again. "answer the question."
"babe, i think you need to go back to sleep."
"that's not an answer..." he muttered.
you placed a hand on his cheek and sighed. "no i'm not cheating on you." you tilted your head as you looked down at him. "i'm gonna blame the fact that you're disoriented from your nap for this ridiculous question."
he looked away, suddenly embarrassed at the realization at how dumb he sounded. his voice was small. "then who's sweater is that?"
you rolled your eyes. "mine, dummy. it's just oversized."
his cheek heated up under your touch and you stifled a laugh. "i should take a picture to remember this."
he glared at you halfheartedly. "fuck off."
you laughed for real this time. "oh come on, you're the one accusing me of cheating cause of my sweater-"
he cut you off, pulling you into his arms. "yeah yeah, take a nap with me then. this way i'll know you're not running off with some other guy while i'm asleep." he teased, a hint of a smile in his voice.
you smacked his chest playfully, shaking your head in disbelief. "you know maybe i should ban you from taking naps if this is the outcome. insane accusations."
"i'd like to see you try." he squeezed you tight and pressed his temple against your forehead. "i'm sorry. wasn't thinking straight." he kissed your forehead. "my dream just messed me up. couldn't tell what was real."
you glanced up at him, hearing the sincerity in his tone. if you were in his position, you would feel conflicted too. "it's okay rin. just know that that could never be our reality, okay? i love you." you kissed his cheek and he smiled.
"love you too."
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mangogobibiboo · 5 months
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Mission: ERROR
Synopsis: Osamu's confession does not go as planned
Pairing: Osamu x FEM!reader
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Osamu is the calm and collected twin. The better twin, some might say. He is mature and rational, especially when compared to his piss-haired brother. But this was going to be the end of him. His hands were sweaty, his mouth was dry, and he couldn't think straight.
Today, he finally worked up the courage to ask you out after endless bullying from his teammates (mostly his brother). This boy had been looking at you like a puppy dog since he saw you running the mochi stand at the school festival during their first year. Osamu had taken every chance to get to know you after that. Of course, being on the volleyball team only left a little time to do much else. He still made it work somehow.
About 10 months ago, the perfect opportunity landed on his lap. He was having some trouble in Math and had failed the first couple of quizzes given that year. To keep Osamu on the Volleyball team as a regular, the coach arranged with his teacher to get him a tutor who would work with him for a bit in the morning and after school, right before practice.
At first, he was a little pissed. He now had to spend more valuable practice time in class. But all that apprehension disappeared once he saw you walk through the door. His life felt like it just lit up right at that moment.
From that day, you guys grew closer. I mean, it was inevitable because you two saw each other every day. And on some days more, because Osamu would insist that he "needed extra help," he would invite you to his house to study. He may have also tried to impress you with his cooking when he would "lose track of time," and you would have no choice but to have dinner at his place.
You, of course, were not an idiot and knew he didn't need that much help. At most, he just needed to read slower and think about the material more before answering. You could see how he would modify the marks he got on his tests to make the scores look lower than they were. And you also knew that if he consistently scored that low, he wouldn't be playing on the team. He would be benched or in remedial classes. But he wasn't, and this was proven because he would invite you to every game to watch him play.
Even after knowing all this, you didn't really mind. Osamu was cute and oh-so-sweet; how could you not fall head over heels in love with him. Of course, the cooking definitely helped his case. You had picked up on his little hints and were eagerly waiting to be asked out on your first official date. You didn't think it would take this long because he always seemed so sure of himself. You were also pretty obvious about your affection towards him. Not only did you always agree to go to his house to study whenever you could, but you also made an effort to make him small snacks for your morning and after-school meetings.
Osamu had pushed back your tutoring session that day so he could rush out and buy some flowers for you. The plan was to make it back to school and up to the classroom before you so that he could surprise you.
The plan had gone smoothly for the most part. He had made it back to school and was now waiting for you. The issue was that you were nowhere to be found. You didn't answer his texts or calls. Osamu grew more nervous that you had figured out his plan and ditched him because you didn't feel the same way.
It had been about 30 minutes, and Osamu would be late for practice if he didn't leave soon, but he wanted to stay in hopes that you would show up. Suna went up to get him on the captain's orders. Instead of finding his friend happily making out with his new girlfriend, he found Osamu pacing around the class while wiping his sweaty hands on his slacks.
"Oi," Suna leaned into the door frame with his arms crossed and continued. "Where's your girl?"
Osamu finally stopped pacing and leaned against the window sill with his hands on either side. "She- She's not here…Yet!"
"Well, your gonna be late if you don't get your ass to the club room like now."
"'s fine. I can be late one time. This actually gives me more time ta practice what I'm gonna say to 'er"
"That's if she shows at all," Suna mumbled that to himself, not expecting Osamu to hear. But he did, and Suna could immediately see his friend's face drop and all the anxiety come back into his body. "Look, man, she'll show, ok? Just practice your thing."
"It might help if ah had someone ta do it with-"
"No"
"I can get er phone back from Kita-san."
"Fine"
Suna trudged over to the other side of the room, arms still crossed on his chest. He leaned on the desk directly in front of Osamu and waited.
"so..do your thing."
With a deep breath, Osamu started, "I have had feelings fer you fer so long. Ya are the smartest, most beautiful person I have ever known. I was hopin' you would do me the honor of goin' on a date with me?" He extended the flowers to suna, bowed his head, and waited for feedback.
"O-Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." Osamus's head shot up like a piston at the new voice. You were standing in the open doorway, stuttering out an apology and turning to leave.
This was a nightmare. You had just heard Osamu confess to Suna with the words meant for you. But you didn't know that.
The bouquet dropped from Osamu's hand as he ran after you. "Y-Y/n, It's not what it looks like!" He ran after you and caught your wrist, tugging it a little to make you face him.
"That is not what it looked like!"
"Samu, it's fine-"
"No. No, it's not. I was just practicing what I was going to say to you." "To me?"
"The confession, the flowers, they were all for you. I like you. I wanted this to be special, but it didn't work out that way. I swear I don't like Suna. I mean, he's great, but I could never put up with- "
"Just kiss me, you twat…"
You didn't have to ask twice. Osamu pulled you in for the sweetest kiss of your life. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer while your arms landed around his neck, pulling him closer.
When you two finally pulled away, he rested his forehead on yours and gave you a shy smile.
"I know this is awkward, but I'm late for practice."
You roll your eyes playfully and pull back from him, but not before giving him a small peck on the cheek.
"Go! I'll be outside the gym waiting for you. My new boyfriend still hasn't told me where we're going on our first date."
Using the word boyfriend to describe him made his heart leap with joy. He turned and ran to the gym, but not before leaning down and returning your kiss. He met Suna at the end of the hallway, and you saw them disappear toward the gym.
You couldn't wait to walk home that day with your new boyfriend.
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cottonlemonade · 20 days
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Hello,
May I please order a small cherry lemonade with extra ice for 'samu, please?
Archnemesis
word count: 1066 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.
pairing: 3rd year rival!Osamu x chubby!Reader
genre: angst, fluff, pining
warnings: swearing, mentions of insecurities, hurtful comments about your weight (but it’s quick and not done by Osamu)
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Osamu groaned when he saw the pitiful little bus pull up and people in black training suits jump out. Trying not to be too obvious he kept throwing glances over to the fast growing group assembling in front of the blond coach. When he spotted you amongst them, easily identified since you were fuller than everyone else, he felt excited but turned away and went back into the building.
Sure, he would be the first to admit that you initially caught his eye while you were blissfully munching on an onigiri and he may or may not have wanted to ask you out so badly that he choked on his water but that was besides the point. You were from Karasuno and therefore automatically the enemy.
Last year, when he first came across the crows it was hard to explain to his captain why he seemed to have beef with a member of the women‘s team of all people but Kita had graduated and wasn‘t their captain anymore, soooo… now he could be petty to his heart‘s content. He enjoyed your little rivalry, because although you may look cute enough to eat you could really dish it out.
While he waited in the lobby for his brother to come back from the bathroom, the Karasuno teams entered and walked stoically towards the changing rooms, ignoring the whispers of admiration and awe. Apparently you decided to become even prettier since the last time he saw you. So that’s how you were gonna play it, huh? Well, fuck you.
Wait, why did they all stop next to him? Why did they stare? You were grinning, so you probably just said something scathing, right? Osamu hadn’t paid attention. Okay, there was a 50/50 chance this would work. “Oh, we‘re gonna see about that.“, he said, attempting and … and failing to return the trash talk.
You looked at him in confusion and the team captains ushered you along.
To no surprise of absolutely anyone Inarizaki won their first rounds with ease and after a victory shower Osamu decided to break your concentration by watching your last match of the day quietly from the sidelines. Menacing. Lurking. You’d get the message. Much like with the little number 10 he enjoyed people‘s reaction to seeing you play for the first time. Initially, they would wonder if someone was grievously injured that they sent „that chubby girl“ onto the field, not knowing what was coming. A grimly satisfied smile played on his lips when he heard the surprised whispers from the crowd when you served four aces in a row. Of course his (completely baseless) archnemesis was strong, what did they expect?
Atsumu and Aran appeared next to him towards the end of the game, his brother holding out a bag of snacks to him, watching with genuine disinterest as the opposing team missed a fake spike.
The next ball seemed to last forever, your receives however stayed clean and precise. But then the roaring cheers changed to a murmur. During a particularly harrowing rally you had jumped over the barricade, just managing to lop the ball back onto the field but crashed into the wall after a harsh stumble, your foot having gotten caught in a chair. You somehow made it back onto the court, receiving the next spike with one hand, giving your setter the opportunity to play to your team‘s ace - but then you didn‘t get back up.
Osamu had grabbed his brother‘s sleeve, knuckles turning white when the medic made their way to you.
He saw you being asked a few questions and then your manager pulled you up, slowly leading you towards the exit.
“Figures that the fatty got injured. Can‘t stop a charging rhino.“
“I‘m just impressed she didn‘t take anyone else down with her.“
Osamu‘s head snapped around to see three guys snickering. His shoulders began to shake with anger. No one - no one - was allowed to talk about you like this. Aran followed his gaze, equally disgusted by the comments, and muttered, “Ugh. We‘re playin’ these jerks tomorrow.“
The older twin‘s eyes went blank - murderous. Good, Osamu thought, together they would make these bastards regret ever choosing this sport.
Osamu turned on his heel and jogged out into the corridor, looking around. He turned pale when he found you leaning against a wall, breathing hard, and a small trickle of blood coming from just beyond your hairline.
Your team‘s manager quickly said something, then ran off, probably to get some help.
As if in trance Osamu walked over to you and without a word knelt down with his back towards you.
“What are you doing?“, you asked in a small voice.
“Get on.“, he said tonelessly, and when you didn‘t move, added, “Come on, the floor is gettin‘ uncomfortable.“
Your answer was barely above a whisper. “No, it‘s fine. Honoka will be back in a second with the doctor. And… and I don‘t want you to get hurt, too.“
Osamu let out a huff, turning his head, “Are ya calling me weak?“
“No, I‘m calling me heavy.“, you mumbled.
“Stop it!“ He hadn‘t meant to shout, he looked to the ground, “Just… shut up and get on.“
Glad you understood that he wasn‘t going to stop pushing, he heard you hobble a step forward and carefully leaned on him.
“Put yer arms around my shoulders, go on.“, Osamu encouraged quietly, his voice much gentler now. You seemed to hesitate again. “Don‘t worry, y/n-san. You won‘t hurt me.“
He froze when he felt something wet seeping through the back of his shirt and realized that you were crying, “I… I can‘t lift my left arm.“ So that‘s why you only received the last ball one handed…
Thinking quickly he pressed out, “Alright, just hold on tight with yer right, then. I‘ll make sure ya won‘t fall.“
Bonus: The next day
Two sharp whistle blows signalled the end of the game and the crowd erupted into cheers. The Inarizaki orchestra began playing their well practised victory song and Osamu used his shoulder to wipe the sweat from his brow.
“Wh-what-what happened?“, he heard a guy from the other team stammer.
The foxes had won in two sets, the score telling the story of complete and utter humiliation. The twins grinned.
With a shaking finger, the opposing libero pointed towards Osamu, “This guy is a beast.“
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a/n: this was such a juicy prompt! Ugh! I’m sorry it got a bit away from me and I ended up adding fluff and mixed in some taking care of you, too. I hope you like it nonetheless, though 🫠
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ceijoh · 2 years
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you get jealous of a manager 
relationship: osamu x f!reader 
content/warnings: jealousy, angst, self-doubt, osamu is kinda toxic here ngl but he makes up for it, fluff 
summary: you get jealous of a manager 
notes: happy birthday, osamu! 
masterlist
atsumu & matsukawa’s part | daichi’s part | bokuto’s part | kuroo’s part
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Everyone always thought that Atsumu was the more emotionally constipated twin, but it was actually Osamu. 
You were friends for a while, still are, but every single day you feel like you’re tiptoeing that line that crosses into lovers instead. 
Ever since you woke up one day and realised that you were in love with Osamu, and have been for a while, you were hoping that one day he would do the same too. 
It was one of those days where the MSBY team were coming to Miya Onigiri, it’s been a tradition since Atsumu joined the team and Osamu opened up his shop. 
It usually consisted of the team in their post workout gear, tired off their feet and just wanting to fill their empty stomachs. 
Ordering an amount of onigiri that would feed an entire nation for one feeding
You would have never thought that you would be surrounded almost daily by gigantic athletic men, but here you are. 
There was something that changed though. An unfamiliar face followed the team. The new person, you assumed, was the new temporary manager for MSBY. 
She was spritely and nice, introducing herself to you 
Then she saw Osamu. 
Appearing from the kitchen, you could basically see the hearts form in her eyes. Watching as they made eye contact, watching as he gave her the smile that you hoped to be at the end of one day. 
Despondently, you watched as Osamu subtly (but not subtle enough for you) talk to the new manager. You watched as he continued smiling at her, handing her the onigiri. 
Your heart began to hurt as you watched her giggle at whatever he said, turning around, you faced the bench.  
Gulping, you forced out a smile as you saw Sakusa and Hinata making their way to you. 
“Is everything okay, (Y/N)-san?” Noticing your look, Sakusa asked as he wiped the table with his wipes. 
“Fine, just tired,” you replied, and then turning to Hinata, “how was practice?”
“(Y/L/N)-chan,” turning, you saw the MSBY captain and bowed immediately, causing him to chuckle. 
“Meian-san,” you smiled.
“What have I told you about calling me that?” Playfully bumping his shoulder into yours, causing you both to chuckle. “Makes me feel old.” 
“32 is not old,” you rolled your eyes as you stalked off. 
“So, you’re saying you’d date a 32 year old?” 
Laughing at his comment, “Of course! I mean, Fukuro-san is that age, and who could say no to him?” You teased lightly, laughing harder when you saw his eyes narrow. 
Your conversation with Meian took your mind off briefly from what you were upset about before but it was short lived as you heard Osamu chuckle. 
Turning your head to where they were, you watched as he laughed loudly and you wondered if he was going to topple over with how hard he was laughing at whatever she was saying. 
Gone was the easiness you just felt, and all you had was the pettiness and anger inside of you. 
--
It was like that for the next couple of weeks. Watching as the team come in, watch as she and Osamu flirt with each other, your hope diminishing everytime. 
It would have been fine, if it wasn’t what happened after they left. 
Because after they left, it was back to ‘normal’; Osamu playfully teasing you, flirting subtly with you. And after every time you felt yourself slowly fall for him again. 
You felt like he was playing tug of war with you and your feelings. 
And honestly? You were sick and tired of it. 
Sick and tired of hopelessly pining after someone, who was obviously interested in someone else. 
You were not some plaything for some man to discard when something shinier comes through the door. 
With this new motive in mind, you barely paid attention to Osamu’s flirting.
Keeping the conversations between the two of you in the restaurant professional and curt. 
If you were going to get over him and not have your heart feel like it’s been stomped on everytime he flirts with her, you need to keep your space. 
--
“What was that?” As soon as the team left, Osamu locked the door and shut the blinds before turning to you. 
“What was what?” You asked as you tidied up the counter. 
Rolling his eyes, Osamu walked over to you. “I think yer know what I’m talkin’ about.” 
Sighing, you placed down the towel and looked at him, “I honestly don’t know, Osamu. So please, enlighten me.” 
Losing his cool, Osamu sputtered out, “The fact that ye agreed to a date with the captain!” 
“It’s not a date, he invited me to a party which you were also invited to,” you explained, resuming your tidying. 
“It is a date!” 
Rolling your eyes, not bothering to look at him, “It’s not a date.” 
“He asked ye!” 
“And you also got invited to the party by the manager!” Fed up at the ongoing conversation, you licked your lips in annoyance and stared at Osamu. “By your definition you’re also going on a date, Osamu.” 
“That’s not a date.” 
“Oh my god,” you groaned out. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why is it a date for me, and not for you?” 
Before he could open up his mouth, you put up your hand to stop him, “No, you know what. Stop. I don’t want this conversation to continue. It’s not a date, ‘Samu,” you spoke defeatedly. “Even if it was, it shouldn’t be your problem.” 
Slamming the towel down, you walked away angrily to the office. 
“Why wouldn’t it be my problem?” 
Turning around, you pointed your finger at him, “You’re my friend, Osamu, that’s it. You’re not my parents, you’re not my boyfriend, you’re my friend and my boss.” 
Grabbing your arm before you could walk away again, “I thought we’re more than that.” 
Yanking your arm off, you scowled at Osamu, fire settling deep in your belly, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Are you serious right now?” Narrowing your eyes at Osamu, “We are not anything. We have never been anything.” 
“(Y/N),” Osamu started softly. Heart beating rapidly at your words. “Ye know that’s not true.” 
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed at the man. “Then you’re doing a shitty job of being in a thing with me by flirting with other women.” 
Realisation set in, he knew the playful conversation that he had with the delivery girls, the customers and the manager of the MSBY team was suddenly coming around to beat his ass. 
It wasn’t that he wanted to flirt with them, but he just needed that confirmation, and the extra attention that he got from you was certainly hot. 
But when you started doing the same thing with Meian in front of him, all he wanted to do was lock the shop and cry. 
He was never the softer twin, he was never the more emotional twin, that was all Atsumu. Osamu prided himself in being more logical, being rational when the situation called for it. 
But he still shared the same genes with Atsumu. 
So he carried on, making you jealous. He wasn’t stupid. 
He knew that you were jealous, your face, your demeanour changing. 
He just didn’t think far enough to maybe think you’d have enough of it and start focusing on someone else. 
“I was bein’ stupid, wasn’t I?” 
Well that was the biggest understatement of the century. 
“Yes, you were,” you agreed, no hesitation whatsoever. “I expected this from ‘Tsum.” 
The clock catching your eye, you closed your eyes as you thought of the words to end this conversation. This was all too much for one night. 
You knew that you and Osamu had to talk about this, but you weren’t ready just yet. 
“Listen, ‘Samu, why don’t you go home and I’ll finish closing up, alright?”
When he didn’t move, you began moving around him. 
“How can I make it up to ya?” 
Without missing a beat, “Maybe don’t fucking flirt with other women.” Barely paying attention to him, you began to move out of the office. 
“Done,” Osamu responded, his voice loud and clear. 
You rolled your eyes. Finally turning around, you crossed your arms over your chest and faced Osamu, “Oh really? Until when? Until she decides to come back tomorrow? Or maybe that new delivery girl? Or maybe there’s going to be someone new! Keep me on my toes,” you goaded nastily. 
This behaviour was beneath you but all you wanted was for your words to hurt him, just as much as his actions hurt you. 
“Give me a break, ‘Samu,” you scoffed. “You may have feelings for me but obviously it wasn’t strong enough for you not to flirt with other people.” 
“Look, if you’re not going to go home, maybe I will,” untying your apron, you began to put it on the hook. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
“Why the fuck do ya think-,” Osamu started and then abruptly finished. Tugging your hand so you faced him, you scowled at his touch. “Why the fuck are ya sayin’ that my feelings aren’t strong enough for ya?” 
“The thought of intentionally flirting with someone else that isn’t you makes me physically sick,” you slowly spat out. “The thought of touching another man the way I want to touch you, Osamu, even if you’re not mine makes me want to die because I feel like I’m betraying you.” 
“But you?” Scoffing, looking straight at him. “You not only could do that willingly, but you made me watch. You make me watch as you give these women the attention that I’ve been craving from you, you give them attention in front of other people while I’m always left in the dark. You make them think they have a chance with you.” 
“You, Miya Osamu, make me feel like everyone else, like I’m just a nobody in your world,” you confessed. You don’t know if your point got across but that was all you were willing to say to the man in front of you. 
“How could you ever think that about yourself?”
"How could you ever make me feel like that about myself?” 
--
Osamu had no words. 
He wanted to explain to you that he never intended to hurt you. He didn’t mean for you to ever doubt that you were the one he wanted. 
“I’m sorry,” that’s what Osamu decided to start with. 
“You’re sorry,” you repeated. “That’s all?” 
“It was stupid,” Osamu confessed. “I was being stupid. I should have never done this.” 
You sighed, suddenly feeling tired. You were done with this, you just wanted to go home and sleep. Maybe take the next day off. 
Sensing your hesitance, Osamu moved slowly forward. Reaching out to you, he slowly clutched your hand with his. It was gentle. 
“(Y/N), words can’t describe ma feelings for ya,” cradling your hand with his, you watched as his thumb caressed your knuckles. 
“‘Samu,” you pleaded. You couldn’t do this. Even if this was what you’ve been dreaming of, you don’t know what you would do if Osamu took it all back.  
“Do you feel this?” 
At the feel of his steady heartbeat underneath the palm of your hand, you nodded once. 
“Please look at me,” at his request, you slowly looked up. Fighting the urge to look away, you took a deep breath and faced him. 
“Yer the only person that has ever made me feel at peace, the only one that has ever made me feel calm and safe. My god, all these years you are the first person that I think of in every situation that I’m in.” 
His confession, all out in the open, the words that you’ve been waiting for since you’ve discovered your feelings for Osamu.  
“And I know that I pushed you to your limits, to make you think that someone else could ever take your place. I’m sorry that I made you feel like that. I’m sorry that I ever made you think that yer just a normal person in my life, that someone else could ever take your place,” he tugged you closer to his body. Hearing the break in his voice, all you now wanted was to wrap your arms around him but you knew there was more to be said. 
Looking down at you, Osamu began to berate himself even more. He could see the doubt still in your eyes. The hurt and the pain that he caused. 
“You are the most important person in my life, you bring so much light in my world, and I know that I don’t deserve ya, not after pullin’ that shitty stunt, but I’m askin’ ya,” he sighed once, knowing that this was going to make him or break him. “Just please let me love you.” 
“Please give me that chance.” 
--
Should you though? 
Multiple feelings coursed through your veins. Your head was telling you that, no, you should not do this. This is a horrible idea. 
But the other part of you, the one who still believed in happy ever afters, and the love that can be found in books and songs. The part that no matter how hard you tried to push her down she kept coming back up was fighting for Osamu. 
He just can’t hurt you again. 
If he did, you don’t know what you’d do with yourself. 
“(Y/N)?” Hearing your silence was worse than when you were yelling at him. Because at least then you were speaking to him, you were still acknowledging him. 
He should have never listened to the stupid idea of making you jealous, he should have never even entertained it. 
If he just waited instead of diving head first into the stupidest idea he ever had. 
Gazing up at Osamu, you finally unclasped your hands, watching as his eyes widen and mouth part in shock and sadness. 
Before he could react anymore, you wrapped your arms around him. “Miya Osamu, I think you might just be stupider than your brother.” 
“You ever do that again and I’ll make sure you’re on cleaning duty for the rest of your life,” you warned but you knew deep down in your heart, Osamu would never do that to you again. You chuckled together, and the tension in the room eased. 
Burrowing your face into his chest, you felt the steady heartbeat beneath your cheek, you sighed out the pain and the longing.
“You can’t hurt me again, Osamu.” 
“I’m gonna treat you the way you deserve.”
--
“I hope ye know that yer goin’ to that stupid party with me,” Osamu nudged you playfully.
“But it’s not a date right?”  
You laughed loudly as you watched his face fall, then scrunch up. 
“Yer such a brat!”
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let me know what y’all think! 
1K notes · View notes
ctrlmay · 4 months
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ᴛᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇsᴛ
sɪʀᴇɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ
★ Word count: 2k+
★ WARNINGS: Smut (mdni!!), blowjob, public sex
★ Note: need to get this out of my drafts so I can move on, and start other writing projects. Happy New Years everyone!
★ read the first part before reading this
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Despite nearly losing his life a few months ago, Osamu continued his trips to the sea as he still had a business to run, but he consciously looked for you. He didn't understand why he was determined to search for the one who attempted to take his life, but he followed his heart nonetheless.
He searched for you in every inch of the ocean. Through waves and storms, he waited for the day he would catch even a glimpse of your silhouette again.
He spent days on end scanning the horizon, hope flowing through him one day when he saw a tail that was similar to yours. However, his hope turned into disappointment when a dolphin leapt from below and danced in the air, taunting him before diving back into the water.
Though he didn't give up, he continued to listen to your familiar symphony. Then, one day, when hearing echoes from deep in the waters, he looked over the edge, expecting you, only to find a whale swimming underneath his boat, teasing him with a song he should’ve known was incomparable to yours. The same occurrences continued, and you were nowhere to be found, leaving him to return to his restaurant with a boat full of ingredients and a heart that remained empty.
“Have a good day," Osamu sent off yet another satisfied customer. It was a busy day at Onigiri Miya; behind the sent-away customers were many more in line, waiting for their meal. He had a long day ahead of him. As the customer left the restaurant, one of Osamu’s employees rushed in with a panicked look on his face.
"What's going on?" Osamu's concern heightened.
"There's a creature—no, a monster by the shore," his employee exclaimed, urgency edging his voice. "The others are trying to drive it away, but it won’t leave!"
The words creature and monster weren’t the words to describe you, but upon first glance, to those who didn’t understand your beauty do come to mind. The customer and his employee didn’t get the excitement on his face, but he knew it was you.
"Stay here," Osamu instructed his employee, a determined glint in his eyes. Leaving the evening rush of hungry customers to his employee, Osamu went outside, making his way to the shore, following the yells and screams of his employees.
His eyes widened at the sight of you; he had searched everywhere for you, and there you were simultaneously on the shore, your otherworldly form exposed for everyone to see while you sneered at two of Osamu’s employees, who used sharp sticks in an attempt to ward you away. His heart skipped a beat, a wave of protectiveness washing over him.
“Hey, stop!” Osamu raised his voice, grabbing the sticks from the hands of his employees.
"B-but boss, it's a monster!" One of them protested, their voice trembling. Offended by their choice of words, you gave them a fierce snarl as a warning, and they silenced their objections, stumbling back away from you.
"Let me handle this." Osamu's voice was softer now, a gentle reassurance as he looked at you with a mixture of concern and relief. "You two, get back inside."
“You hear that? You’re dead meat!” One employee taunted, feeling more confident with Osamu there.
"Yeah, maybe the boss will make you into a good Onigiri snack!” The two employees snickered at you behind Osamus' back, but their laughter quickly died as you bared your teeth, revealing your razor teeth, sending them retreating, tripping over their feet, and back inside the restaurant.
Osamu's words tumbled out when his employees were out of sight: "Why are you here?"
You regarded him with a familiar smile. "Did you miss me, sailor man?" Your voice was sultry and enticing, as he remembered.
Osamu's heart raced as he found himself slowly falling into your trap of allure, though he knew how to avoid it. "No," he lied, his voice soft but determined. "Go back into the water before someone sees."
Your laughter danced on the sea breeze, sending shivers down his spine.
"Why? Won’t you protect me, sailor man?"
"Stop calling me that. And get back; there are people everywhere." He repeated.
Though you weren't worried about anyone else, there was a reason you came to the shore. You wanted to continue the conversation, so you slithered closer to him. "What's your name?" you inquired.
Osamu's heart raced as you came closer till you were at his feet, his resistance failing against the heat of your presence. Grabbing a hold of his ankles, you knocked Osamu down onto the sand, and you lay on top of him, your face centimeters away from his.
"What are you-?"
"Tell me your name." You stated again your tone more serious. His defenses crumbled against your command, a sigh escaping his lips.
"Osamu Miya," he breathed, his voice carrying the weight of defeat to resist you.
A slow, satisfied smile spread across your lips. "Osamu, what a pretty name," you whispered, your words caressing against his ear. Your sharp nails are gently dragging down his neck.
"Do you want to know my name?" You questioned.
Osamu's heart raced as you slithered down his body, with the point of your nails trailing down, feeling as if the world around him dissolved into your haze of allure.
"I want to know why you're here," Osamu replied, trying his best to keep his composure.
"You humiliated me, Osamu," you revealed. "You evaded my lethal song, leaving me weak. I’m dying, Osamu."
“I was trying to save myself from you, who tried to kill me!” He retorted.
"Are you still mad about that?" you huffed. “I’m sorry, ok? But I need you to help me.”
All he heard in that sentence was, ‘I need you.’ You needed him. He owed nothing to you, yet he felt in his heart that he had to, and he didn’t want to lose you again. "What do you want me to do?"
"All you have to do is say my name," you revealed.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Y/n.” It was, as expected, a name that matched your beauty and was perfect for you. But he despised it, knowing it had made him fall deeply in love with you.
"And then what?" he questioned.
Instead of answering, you made your way to his pants.
"W-what are you doing?" Osamu asked, startled, his heart pounding in his chest.
"You'll help me, won't you, Osamu?" You asked, your eyes locking onto him with an intense and desperate gaze.
"Yes," he agreed.
"Then all you need to do is say my name and look into my eyes.”
Dipping down to his crotch, Osamu's breath hitches as you unzip his pants and reveal his hard length bulging through his boxers. He was overwhelmingly big in length and width, and as much confidence you exuded, you'd never been as close to or ever come into contact with a man as you are now with Osamu, let alone given a blowjob to anyone before.
"What, you can’t take it?" Past the view of his swollen cock, you saw the smug look plastered on Osamu's face. It’s clear this wasn't his first time; he's done this before, probably with people more experienced than you. But that only fueled your determination to captivate him, to have him under your spell, which he's escaped before, though this time you'll have him succumb to his knees. It was the only way to save your life.
And so you took your time wrapping your hand around his shaft, slowly pumping him, and running your protracted tongue along the veins of his base to his swollen tip, catching the pre-cum that dribbled.
"Oh fuck," He can't help himself; the sight of you is making his body shake with need. It made his mind go blank. He wanted nothing more than to praise you and beg you for more, but he didn't know the troubles that would fall on him if he chanted your name.
You wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking him into your mouth and letting him fill your throat. In pleasure, he threw his head back, digging his hands into the sand for leverage as a stream of strained moans tumbled from his lips. He cursed, and you glanced up at him, expecting to meet his eyes, but instead were met with Adam's apple that bobbed.
"Osamu, look at me." Your velvety yet sultry voice is what compelled him to obey; he lowered his head and locked eyes with you. Your eyes brimmed with lust and desire, making him feel as though he’d plunged into the depths of an enchanting abyss full of secrets and allure. Unable to look away, Osamu knew he was entrapped in the effect of a siren's gaze.
With his attention on you, you dipped back down to his cock, dragging your tongue against his length before hollowing your cheeks to take him into your mouth once again. He guides his hand to your head, his fingers delicately entwining in your hair, trying to maintain his composure as he slowly unravels under your touch.
He moans again, and you feel him throbbing as you slurp him deep, drowning out the sounds of the waves and the distant calls of Osamu’s name.
It wasn't until the voices were close that Osamu heard his name being called. It was his employees checking to see if Osamu was still alive. Which he was. Alive and balls deep inside your mouth. The two of you were behind a large rock out of view, but the voices of his employees got even closer, and he didn't want to be seen or interrupted.
"Shit, I need to get up," he whispered.
But you didn't care; you've yet to reach your goal, so disregarding Osamu, you continue bobbing your head fast, and he bites his lip, the pain only making him harder.
" they'll find-" He was cut off by the feeling of his balls in your hand, his body tensing up. Osamu could hear his employees getting closer, and you continued sucking his cock, ignoring him as he tried to warn you again. 
"You're going to get us caught," Osamu growled, and he felt you smirk around his cock. His grip on your hair tightened. His employees were calling for him again, though he kept as quiet as possible, holding in his grunts and moans. Osamu could only listen helplessly as his employees got closer to where the two of you were.
Osamu's body tenses again, the feeling of him about to explode, and his grip on your hair tightens. His employee now only stood inches on the opposite side of the rock. Osamu held his breath as his employee went to look on the side of the rock where you two were, his fingers grazing on the rock, looking around for his boss. He looked to the left, then turned his head towards where he would find you and Osamu.
When another employee called after him. The first employee's attention was diverted before he could see you and Osamu, and he retreated back toward the restaurant.
When the employee's footsteps disappear, Osamu grabs a handful of your hair, throwing your head back and releasing your mouth, as the saliva that had formed between him and you spills out from your mouth as his dick slips out with a pop. 
"You've been so naughty today," Osamu's voice is deep and full of desire. Without waiting for a response, Osamu thrust his cock deep down your throat, a gagging noise escaping from your mouth as your eyes rolled back.
"First, you come to my restaurant for everyone to see, after I searched for you everywhere." He continued at his ruthless pace, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat while a mixture of tears, drool, and pre-cum coated his cock.
"And then you decide to tease me and play with my mind and my feelings." He continued, "Your tight grip on his waist grew weak, and he didn't bother with gentleness, his hips moving recklessly.
"Did you think I would fall for your game again Y/n?" He rasped. A mortal man has uttered your name... the only way for you to gain your siren abilities back, to save your life. though it couldn't be just any man, but one, who was in love with you.
His hips sputtered as he chanted your name in praise, and with every chant, the hue in your eyes intensified, strength surged through your veins as they pulsed, and, most importantly, your song found its way into your vocal cords.
You let him take over and do as he pleases, enjoying his loss of control and how you're the only one who can make him like this. He was now under your allure with no way to escape; you had full control over his mind, heart, and life in your hands.
As his hips started to move faster, you felt him throb and knew he was close. He didn't want it to stop, but his body felt like it wasn't under his control anymore, and he couldn't stand anymore. His cock was pulsating as he came into your mouth again, and his hot cum coated the inside of your mouth.
When his cock slipped from your lips, his legs gave out, and he let his head rest on the face of the rock. As he lay on the sand, catching his breath, he looked at you, a slight smile plastered on your face and cum dripping down the side of your mouth.
"What did you do?" he muttered.
"I didn't do anything," you replied, still smiling.
In the distance, a shout of Osamu's name rang out from the restaurant, diverting his attention away from you.
"This was fun, though you should get back to work, Osamu," you suggested, already retreating into the water.
"Where are you going? You can't leave yet."
"Don’t get sentimental on me now," you teased. “You know what they’ll do to me if they see me."
"I’ll protect you." He suggested also entering the water and wrapping his arms around your body. His lips met yours in an instant, and a passionate kiss was shared between the two of you as the waves crashed around you.
Your plan had exceeded your expectations; he was captivated and in love with you. His devotion toward you endeared you; you’d come back for revenge, and fear it has backfired.
Another call to Osamu's name echoed, and in the distance, he spotted his employees making their way toward the two of you, now out in the open for everyone to see.
"Stay with me," he urged. You were taken aback. A wave of déjà vu swept over you; you’d also tried to coerce him once, as he is doing to you now. It was a new sensation; you, siren, had never fallen for a man before. You wonder if he was the one doing a spell on you.
"Come with me," he repeated, searching your eyes for a response.
Though it was too late, as Osamu's employees reached the shore just a few feet away, they called out, "Boss! What are you doing in the water?"
Osamu looked at his employees in a panic, fearing you might have been seen. When he turned his gaze back to you, you had already submerged in the water, bidding him a heartfelt goodbye with your eyes.
There is no spell; your newfound emotions are inexplicably real.
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bokubear · 2 years
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Haikyuu!! — he has baby fever
❥ including ; ( timeskip! ) kiyoomi sakusa, osamu miya, akaashi keiji, daichi sawamura
❥ genre ; fluff, suggestive themes, mentions of pregnancy
❥ notes ; ahhh!! baby fever hits so hard in september :(
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Sakusa isn’t one to leave notes all over, or hint at it. At least.. not where you can see. You’ll most likely notice him taking a little bit longer to stare at the baby clothes, or perhaps the cribs. That’s until he finds a MSBY onesie with his number on it that he rushes to you—urgently shoving it in your face with unfiltered happiness. It was enough to make your heart stop beating from how cute he was. “Kiyoomi.. Do you want to be a dad?” You whisper, glancing at the nearly bouncing Sakusa as he shows you to onesie which makes him stop in his tracks. His face flushed, the familiar fiddle with his fingers appearing. “Maybe..” he mumbles, pulling his mask further up his face. You giggle, receiving a betrayed expression from the opposite. And out of pettiness, you take it upon yourself to bug him about all the way home. “Boy or girl?” — “Hush.”
Osamu keeps you from doing anything. and by that i mean he becomes convinced you are pregnant ( in other words, he treats you like royalty. before you’d despised it and his sly smile, but being a princess wasn’t as bad as you thought not like you weren’t always treated like that. “ah ah, no lifting that it’s not good on your back.” the grey haired twin tutted, prying the box from your hands. “i’m not pregnant ‘samu…” you whined, osamu responding with that exact sly smile. “not yet.” you practically hiss at him, despite this still letting him feed you onigiri’s. Except for the one instance where you find a fantastic way to get revenge. Slipping into your shared bedroom, you lean against the doorframe—watching the unnecessarily hot cook laying on the bed give you a curious glance. “Since you were talking about a baby and all.” You begin, the man’s eyes bulging. “Really-“‘Joking joking.” He pouts as you laugh at his disappointed face, not anticipating for him to pick you up and drag you to the bedroom instead. “C’mon baby!” — “Hey!”
Akaashi mentions having a baby whilst his heads stuck in a parenting book. You hadn’t paid any attention to what he was reading until he said, “What do you think about a little girl?” You cocked a brow, tilting your head to read the title as the pieces for together. “I’d hope she has your eyes.” You chuckled, soaking up the way the editor’s cheeks progressively grow redder. It all started there. Little, settle things. It was precious. More than that. Simple train rides where he points out the places he’d want take her. Cafes the both of you visit daily where he’d buy her a hot chocolate in the cold Tokyo winters. Utterly heart-shattering. And the best is while you’re laying in bed, hearing a loud sigh from your lover. “Keiji?” You whisper, voice leaking concern. “I don’t know how I’ll handle two of you. Two of my worlds. I think my heart may just fail me.” God, he’s adorable.
Daichi hit the baby fever rampage on a peculiar day where it seemed the world dropped unlimited hints. In easier words, as a policeman the first moment struck while helping an expecting woman cross the road to her significant other—and his eyes it was you. Stomach swollen with child. And it ruined him. But as if that wasn’t enough, there were tons of families. Young children walking hand in hand with their parents, perhaps even asking him innocent wonderings and things. The world most definitely had it out for him. Daichi threw his hat off the second he stepped through the door, enveloping you in his scent in his daily hug. “I don’t have much time. I want my baby with a baby.” He mumbled, head buried in your hair. “What was that Dai..?” You piqued, the man speaking louder this time. “‘Want my baby with a baby.” You giggled, his warm cheeks molding into your hands—comfortable. “..I think we can arrange that.”
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-maak
plagiarism, repost, and editing is prohibited
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cr4yolaas · 2 months
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8:57 PM — osamu miya
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“…cut at an angle. make sure to watch for your fingers, though,” osamu muttered. he stood behind you, his arms caging you against the kitchen counter with his hands — warm, calloused, and large — guiding yours gently. you bore the onigiri miya apron with his name on the chest.
he watched as you sliced through the fatty tuna in a manner akin to that of a child learning how to walk. the cut was messy and diagonal, so much so that osamu was surprised the knife even made it through the fish. he sighed, albeit not in anger nor disappointment — rather, in contentment.
“um …” you began, realizing how abnormal the fish slice looked. “is it okay?”
the man wasted no time in reassuring you. “of course. it looks a little off, but that’s normal.” he grabbed the knife from your hands and placed it in the sink. “okay, so now…” osamu began guiding you through the motions — preparing the rice, mixing the ingredients, creating the side dishes — all with a loving gaze and a steady hand.
in high school, osamu always came to school with a bento box neatly wrapped in a plain cloth. he told you he made the meals himself. even now, he’d occasionally wake up early in the morning to pack his lunch, despite working in a restaurant. naturally, your interest got the best of you. when you came to onigiri miya right after your shift, osamu was cleaning the kitchen, his arms still covered by compression sleeves as he wiped down the counter. but when you had asked of him a simple request — to teach you how to make lunch the way he did — he couldn’t bear to turn you down.
“… and you tie it like this.” he tied the cloth into a neat ribbon. the fascination in your eyes made him grin. “happy now?”
you nodded. “i didn’t think it was this complicated. can’t believe you woke up to do this before school every day.” osamu reached behind you to untie your apron, his motions soft and delicate.
“it’s not that hard,” he teased. your irritated response only illicited a laugh out of him, the noise filling the room with an unmatched decadence. together, you closed up the shop, the jingle of the bell ringing behind you as you headed to the car with a bento box in one hand and his in the other.
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satoruyes · 22 days
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Can we not? | osamu miya x gn!reader
| reader comes home to osamu in bed with another, what’s his first reaction? “you bet not touch her”
| tw: cheating, angst, hurt, suggestive, alcohol, happy ending?
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ever since you came back from visiting family, osamu seemed a bit.. off. sure he wasn’t the most affectionate person in the world but he never dodged it before or declined sex. besides him acting weird, life just wasn’t at its tip top for you right now. your friends noticed that. so to get you out of the house they all proposed a night out, bar hopping.
you couldn’t really bring yourself to drink. the most you ingested that night was a stale beer. the whole night you had a pit at the bottom of your stomach. something was wrong, yet you couldn’t quite pin point it. after declining you dont know how many offers to dance; you decided to go home.
you told osamu you’d be back around 12am. sure he won’t mind you coming home a little early — if he was even woke that was.
you make it back to your apartment complex and quietly shuffle your key into the hole. you walk in and remove your shoes. the house is all but quiet - you hear a woman’s loud whiny voice and assume it’s some show osamu is watching.
you go to the kitchen and quietly make your self a glass of water, barely feeling a buzz from the drink you had. you hear a loud bang coming from the master bedroom and it startles you.
it’s continuous. followed by several loud ‘thwaps’ you start to get a bit nervous, the burning in your chest getting stronger.
you tiptoe down the hall to the shut bedroom door. you take a deep breath and crack the door open. your heart sinks. either osamu found a new position to jerk off in or-
“osamu?” you utter, your voice cracking. osamu jumped up from his current position. “oh fuck-” his eyes are wide and his mouth even wider. you don’t even notice you’re crying til you feel tears drip from your chin.
“y/n, i thought you said you weren’t coming til twelve- i- fuck i um,” he’s babbling on excuses and you can’t even hear him. you look past him and see her. laying in your bed. under your covers.. naked. is she wearing your head scarf? and she’s looking bewildered as if she’s the victim.
wait, you know her. she’s osamu’s new employee. you see her everytime you go to your boyfriends’ onigiri shop. grabbing lunch and leaving with a kiss. she- she knew about me. she..
“y/n, are you listening to me?” he asks grabbing you by your shoulders and shaking you. he must’ve slipped on his underwear while you were in your head. underwear you bought him.
“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME,” you sob, jerking his hands off of you. he backs up, looking almost shocked. “YOU-
your knees buckle almost causing you almost drop to the floor. you catch yourself and lean against the wall - hyperventilating. is he serious? after all these years? high school sweethearts for what? all those firsts for what? for him to go off and fuck the first thing he found appetizing. what did she have that you didn’t? was the sex better? was the connection sweeter?
“you fucking-,” you leap towards her. she seemed so innocent, helping make your lunch. smiling with you, hugged you once even. had she no shame? osamu jumps infront of you; blocking her.
“don’t you fucking touch her!” he yells.
your vision is complete blurred by tears now. was he really protecting her? from you? you jump back out of his grip. your chest hurts bad. you feel like you could die from a broken heart right now.
“osamu are- y- you serious?” you ask, pulling yourself together. he stares at you, was that pity in his eyes? you sniffle and take their silence as an answer.
“im.. gonna go..” you say, lips quivering. it barely comes out as a whimper. he hears it though. you didn’t even notice you were digging your fingernails into your palms til you stopped.
making the pain more prominent.
yet the physical pain you felt right now was in nowhere comparable to the emotional pain you felt.
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nixnephili · 8 months
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"You've earned no favors yet." -NLH
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Ability structure/ anatomy:
-Abilities are made of energy. Both in Earth's dimension and in their own, the only difference being that their own dimension is adapted to their construction. That is to say, their state of existence is handled differently in each dimension.
On Earth:
-Abilities display their physical forms using Earth's atmosphere, light and gravity. They automatically adapt their own sense of gravity to the space they exist in, as they are not entirely physical on Earth.
They are physical enough for humans to come in direct contact with but not enough to be damaged.
As their forms on Earth are seen as variables, they have control over dematerializing and rematerializing at will from their human host.
Control and regulate the speed of their descent from a high jump. Which they can preform through temporary detachment from our gravity, as it does not bind their form energy.
-Abilities are bioluminescent. The level of energy / power coursing through them radiates to the exterior through glowing limb extremities most of the time.
Abilities can be damaged on Earth. Though only the physical form. As soon as the physical form sustains too much damage, the ability retreats to its current host and is on stand by from anywhere between hours and up to a month and more as they take the time to regenerate. Seeing as their physical form represents the extra energy the host body couldn't comprehend, the energy doesn't return inside the body, but it compacts itself and materializes into a small gem. (Much like we've seen in Dead Apple but they won't all be red).
-Nix🌙
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rinslutz · 1 year
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how it ends — suna rintaro smau
“distance makes the heart grow fonder” is what you tried to convince yourself of when you left to study overseas. your main fear was that your long-distance relationship with suna would fail. your biggest fear becomes your biggest nightmare when you’re sent a video of suna making out with a girl at a party.
pairing: suna rintaro x reader & miya osamu x reader
genre: angst
warnings: cheating, toxic relationship, misunderstandings, unrequited love, falling out of love, this will probably be a long story
taglist: (open)
status: ongoing
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characters
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CHAPTERS
01. rude awakening
02. home sweet home
03. surprise surprise !
04.
05.
06.
07.
08.
09.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
(to be continued)
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rinslutz ©
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tteokdoroki · 2 years
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“osamu, what the hell is your problem?”
osamu miya isn’t one to act out like this, he’s never one to run head first into a fight with no armour. he’s not brash and unreasonable like ‘tsumu. he’s supposed to be the better twin at this compared to the blonde scrub he should have eaten in the womb.
but when it comes to you, he loses all sense of rationality— the slightest change in your emotions still has osamu acting a fool after all this time.
“i was defending yer honour!” he announces adamantly, slur heavier than usual as he flinches away from the bag of frozen peas you have pressed into his swelling cheek. osamu hates frozen veg, it ruins the quality and taste of his product, so he prefers to start afresh every time to make sure everyone gets the very best of what he has to offer but boy is he glad that he kept the bag in his kitchen’s freezers from when he first started out.
he still can’t believe he got punched in his own damn shop.
your face twists as you peel back the defrosting packet, analysing the tender area on the younger miya twin’s face. still handsome, even when bruised like a softly ripened peach. “osamu miya,” he hates how his full name sounds on your tongue, bitter and still slightly resentful— nothing like the ‘samu’s he’s used to. “i do not need defending! god…you don’t change. you never do!” frustration sits caked on your features like a layer of sweat after a gruelling day in the kitchens. “when will you realise that i can be my own person outside of you? i can take care of myself. i don’t need you to back me up, tell me to sit this one out like you do with ‘tsumu. i don’t need protecting.” you shift awkwardly on your knees, the tiled floor in onigiri miya’s kitchen cutting into your skin. “and besides…i like him.”
osamu pushes the peas from your grip, brows knotted together as he scowls at you like what you’ve said isn’t true. you could tell him those words a thousand times and he’d selfishly ignore them because you’re way too good to go unprotected in this world.
“yer still s’fuckin’ naive,”
the curse word slipping from the restaurant owners lips surprises you— it upsets you, the hurt sweltering in your chest. “‘samu that’s not fair…”
“i don’t care if it is! i see the way ya grimace when he touches ya, the way ya avoid his gaze. how he treats ya like a fuckin’ pet rather than a human being!” the miya twin roars back, and if he was loud enough you’re sure he’d rattle the pots out to dry on the dish-rack. “that’s not love. you know that.”
your face scrunches up, expression foul and osamu knows he shouldn’t have said that.
“and you do?” he can hear the tired tremble in your voice, you’ve both been here before, stuck in a loop of the same argument. osamu shouldn’t cast judgement on the people you date, not when he ruined the concept of love and happiness for you in the first place. he gave you up when you’d done nothing but cherish him for years after the team went their separate ways.
he was the one to let you go.
he was the one desperate to see you again, dropping hints to kita to invite the old inarizaki manager to the reunion at his precious store in osaka after atsumu’s big game.
he was the one who threw the first punch at your now fiancé because the way he held you wasn’t right.
it was too tight, too rough for someone who deserved the world like you. osamu could read the twitch of pain on your face probably before you even felt it…because he still loved you, he still knew everything about you and he didn’t even have the right to. he probably deserved to get his shit rocked before aran and suna dragged your fiancé outside the shop ( atsumu would have ripped the guy’s head off too for hurting his brother…but kita was there and you’d pleaded with him not to ).
so osamu miya stays silent, becomes a little more reserved unlike his bastard brother and zips his lips once more— throwing away the key while he avoids your desperate gaze. “nothin’.” he mumbles simply, looking away from your wounded puppy dog eyes.
“of course,” you say quietly, even though he can hear the crack of tears in your voice. “because you could never love anyone outside of this stupid shop.”
and as you let it slip you’re crying up, and back away from him on the kitchen floor of onigiri miya, osamu realises…there’s no starting over with you. it’s far too late for that.
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hxltic · 1 year
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REALLY? OSAMU MIYA
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• fuckbuddy!Osamu
• Genre: smut to angst to fluff
• Warnings: mention of alcohol, mention of sex under the influence (nothing gruesome), female reader, wall sex, degradation, kinda rushed, mention of panic attack
🎶 I WANNA BE YOURS—ARCTIC MONKEYS (it can be the summertime sadness remix)
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It started in highschool right after a party his twin hosted: the first time anything ever happened. It was a moment of vulnerability between the both of you, unwarranted and threatening to the mentality of the person you’d become once you sobered up, but it almost felt like you needed it.
You never went to anyone else after, a boyfriend nowhere in the picture. You never saw multiple people at once either. So, you weren’t necessarily just his—but you’d be damned if anyone else could fuck you the way he could that night. If he knew any better he would’ve declined you in the moment, but the way your expression held nothing but pure exhaustion and longing—like you were drowning in your own problems—diminished the small ounce of self control he had left from too much alcohol. Like he felt it was mandatory to give you what you deserved.
He couldn’t do it now though, and he knew that.
You laid in his bed, tossing and turning in the size-too-big shirt he had you in. Having just bathed you, he tried his best to ignore your porcelain figure as he stood to the side, the liquor he previously downed only amplifying his attentiveness and not making it much easier. Before you knew what you were doing you pleaded for him, just to release some pent up stress.
Tears slowly started sliding down your face. Real tears. He had never seen you like this—the always joyful and confident girl you were. He knew you got easily frustrated, but never to the extent of drinking like how you did tonight. You called his name several times. Even in your state you could tell he needed it as well.
“‘Samu please.”
As this was his last year, he was bombarded with questions relating to whether he wanted to play professionally or through college. He always thought he would. If you would’ve asked little Osamu, back in the times where he shared a hair color with Atsumu, the immediate answer would’ve been yes. Together they’d stay, within the sport they equally shared love for. But now, he wasn’t so sure.
Interviews, family, his own school—it was all too much. He had recently gotten into the culinary field once he found free time too. You always joked about how you’d be his little taste tester.
It wasn’t supposed to be taken literally.
He reached above his arms to take the simple black shirt off and to put his watch back in the drawer, having taken it off to not get it wet in the tub. He has a small couch in the corner of his room so he figured he’d just sleep there for the night.
Finished, he took whatever band was on your wrist and tied your hair up in a ponytail so it wouldn’t be in your way. His body was leaned right in front of your face as he did it, the smell of his leftover cologne seeping into your nose like pure dopamine. Soft lips pressed onto your forehead lovingly.
“Goodnight, I’ll see you in the ‘mornin.”
He said carefully. He really, really tried his best to push you away, relieved to finally sit down and dismiss whatever temptations you had him locked in; Yet before he could turn around, you softly got ahold of his hand and held it, unmoving.
“At least stay with me?” You’d whisper.
Osamu watched your eyes blink open sleepily and a single tear falls.
Jesus fucking Christ.
———
After that, it was undeniably all him.
You immediately knew once you cut the relations off for a while because of another boy. Osamu let you on your way, but he was absolutely pissed the second you left. You just thought the boy was so cute, and he fed you everything you’ve wanted to hear. Past relationships absolutely crushed you—past relationships you have yet to tell anyone but Osamu about—and he just seemed like the perfect quiet-type boy. He wasn’t very friendly to other girls and was built well.
And you were so very wrong. The quiet ones are the most terrifying. Long story short, he fucked you over, but of course you came running back to Osamu who met you with open arms. It was an argument bound to start but he pushed it aside and just let you get out whatever you needed to.
You were so glad he was mad at you actually, the tears previously streaming down your face replacing with ones of ecstasy when he propelled your body forward. Except that you couldn’t make it to the bed, so this was on the wall of his own bedroom that your arm was a barrier for your forehead while the other arm was held behind your back. Osamu grunts into your ear with his hand dug in your hair, your whines fueling his body even more. Just as they always have.
“You’ll always come back won’t ya? Yeah you will. ‘Fuckin slut. That’s because this dick will always be in that—mmgh—brain of yours.”
You loved when he was mean to you, and what could you say, you deserved it. How dare you even try somebody else?
“‘I’m sorry ‘Samu,” was all you could say. This would only anger him further, you feel his head find the crook of your neck.
“Ya had me here all alone, yer not sorry.”
You nodded your head eagerly, “missed you,” you exclaim. You wish you could prove to him the regret you felt. Even though you weren’t his girlfriend, whatever this was still felt bad. It needed to stay that way. And yet, how could you sense the slightest bit of seriousness in what he said?
“You know ya favorite pairs ‘a panties are sittin in my drawer and he’s the one ya think about? Bet ya he’s never made ya cry like I have.”
Osamu peels you off the wall. He was right. The boy made you cry out of anger and sadness at him; Osamu made you cry out of confusion and questioning yourself.
You felt like you were unloveable. Even if this wasn’t exactly true, it deterred you from a lot of people you still feel bad for to this day. Everyone you’ve rejected because of the bullshit they’d send into your messages, everyone you’ve actually liked but just couldn’t believe felt the same, everyone you’ve run away from when all they tried to do was take care of you—and yet you cried. Proof you did like them back, at least a little bit, but the proof comes too late, and even then it’s not enough to convince you to push for a relationship.
You couldn’t differentiate your own platonic feelings for romantic ones, and you hated yourself for it. You hated breaking hearts that didn’t deserve to be broken, just because in the moment you made them think you two could work, or you were bonding. You were leading them on unintentionally.
Over time you’ve come to realize you only have romantic feelings if you process you love them first, but that’s when you’re in too deep. Processing is the hard part because you want to tell yourself to let it go. Only then, if they asked you out, you’d gladly say yes.
To all the other people, it’s like you were picking favorites because usually the main rejection comeback for you is “I’m just not ready.” Which was technically true, but unintentionally a lie at the same time. To them you’re sure the sexual jokes and deep conversations you’ve had are the equivalent of dating. So when they ask, why do you back out?
You were brought to the bed, then laid out. Osamu’s body hung over you gorgeously. The man gently took it upon him to spread your legs, his whole tone and demeanor changing like you were back to day one.
“Fuck, there ya go. Open up fer me.”
You stayed quiet, your breathing almost speaking for you. His calloused, over-worked hands pressured the skin right under your knees, a dent forming around his fingertips from the plush. You both watch intently as he slips back into your body and you share a gasp. Just as the last time he went in, your head falls back and his mouth finds your ear.
One hand remains along your leg while the other came to pinch at your face. Your cheeks were being squished. He held your face firm so you couldn’t look away from him, those inescapable, glazed, hooded eyes he loved so much. Your own hands came to grab around his one, even though you didn’t try to pull it off. It was stability almost—your mouth hanging agape and tears reflecting in the darkness of his room. Being only inches apart, you have to pick an eye of his to look into with the remaining daze you call a brain. You two whisper back and forth with every slow thrust that runs through your walls like butter.
“Mmm, right there?”
“Yes—, right t-there. Pussy‘s yours ‘Samu.”
“Holy shit, yer so wet. You hear it?” You nod.
“Don’t close yer eyes, want you to see what ya do to me.”
He placed a chaste kiss on your jaw and moved to your plump lips. You almost saw it coming, and when you felt the fanned breath, you instinctively defied his past orders, closed your eyes, then turned to the side swiftly. You’d ingeniously dodged him like it didn’t happen at all.
It shattered his heart.
You had no idea how bad he wanted to kiss you. It had been established early on he couldn’t, along with limited pet names, based on the agreement. The two combined were recipes for relationship and you knew there’s absolutely no way that would’ve worked out. Regardless, it didn’t anyway.
His brows furrowed and upturned, then he sought refuge in your collarbone when his hand lowered to your neck. He continued to thrust, trying to push it off, despite the impacting silence. The tears cascading down to your breasts were warm.
Finally, with a single sound, you realized they weren’t yours. His grip gradually loosened and as his hand disconnected from you, he slowly dragged his body down your own and eventually, pulled out. Your eyes open and strain in the night, trying to make his face out, but once you do they widen and stay that way.
Pained. He looked pained and angry and your heart twisted at the sight knowing it was because of you. His head hung low and expressionless as the droplets singularly fell onto your thighs, you wanted to curl up and look away; but that’s what got you there in the first place.
Osamu was the mean one. He never cries. Ever. Whenever Atsumu (constantly) did, he was there to comfort him even with being younger by a few seconds, but he likes to consider himself the more mature sibling. He throws his head back with a heavy sigh, his hands coming up to run over his face and through his hair. You gulp, unaware of what to say.
“You didn’t miss me nearly as much as I thought ya did, did you?” He humorlessly laughs. A string struck in your body like a puppet and you push your hands behind you to lift yourself to him. You frantically come around his face to take it in your hands.
“No, no I did!- I just-“ he continues to look down. As you go on and on, he finally casts you a glance that almost verbally says “it’s okay.” He’s concluded what you could never put into words.
You never missed him, just his company.
You cracked. Immediately. In a split second the best moments with him reflected in his glossy, dead eyes and reeled through your brain: he took you to his place on your birthday and handmade you dinner when nobody else remembered; he screen-shared a movie to cheer you up over facetime that time someone close to you died; compliments were never scarce with him since he always shamelessly screenshotted your pictures; and out of everyone you’ve ever hurt, he had to be the worst. You tempted him that one night, dragged him into something he didn’t ask for, and played him and his effort like a fucking toy. You cried with him. Was it selfish for you to cry as well?
He was tired of it all. He was tired of pretending like texting you to come over was only for sex, he was tired of people taking you away from him. The mere thought of someone treating you how he does makes him physically sick, sick enough to lose sleep and have his brother come check up on him.
“I-I’m sorry Osamu, you’re not just a friend,” you cry. They were the best words for the moment you could think of. The anger he just brushed off returned and the tears that just slightly paused, resumed.
“A friend. A fucking friend,” Osamu’s eyes scanned yours. “Every single day my hatred for that fucking word grows. If I’m not a friend, what am I?” His breathing goes deep.
“You’re—“ You sniffle and let go of his face.
“—If being buried between yer thighs doesn’t make me just a friend, what does it make me?”
You retreat to your back, feeling pressured by his raising voice. He follows you the whole way down again. It’s like it’s on the tip of your tongue, an obvious answer; he knows it’s right there but refusing to come out and that’s not enough for him.
“Ya tell me what I wanna hear, then the opposite right after. What am I y/n? What are we? Please, please just keep me from running in circles, baby.” His voice cracks. It’s gotten to the point of him panicking over your face and his hand lifting yours, his eyes darting back and forth. You realize the depth of the situation. You broke him, the solid wall he built around himself crashing down into yours like dominos.
You’ve said I love you to each other many times, but before, you called it him being your best friend. Now you weren’t sure. You never realized the word “friend” was your umbrella to life, the comfortable coziness of the word hiding you from commitment. You just didn’t know how to get it across.
“I’m…I’m scared Osamu,” you sob.
“And I’ll take care of you with everything I have left. Just tell me you’ll take it ‘n it’s yours. Tell me the words I’ve been waitin to hear.”
He was so close, so very close. The man didn’t deserve you in the slightest, he was more fitted for someone who wasn’t afraid. A coward. He just fully expressed his love to you after you basically denied it. He was brave. Something you longed to be, and with him, you may have a chance. You cry softly into his shoulder as his bicep encases you and he brushes hair off your wet lashes.
“I’m sorry,” you weep. His eyelids drop in defeat, and you feel his muscled chest cave. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it before—“
You kissed whatever was closest to you softly. “—I love you.” His Adam’s apple received the gesture, and ended in him suddenly finding your lips. This time, you let him because the way his face lit up needed to be framed.
Breathless and wet, your tears merge with his unintentionally. Now, his tears were of joy, finally ridding of the confusion that has held him hostage for months. Yours were joy as well since you noticed you didn’t regret a thing about your decision. You loved him. You’d say it a million times again.
“Thank god, you finally let me love ya. I woulda done it without your permission either way.” He laughs. It was that smile you missed. The real one. You’d talk again later, but bathing comes first. Bathing after the long-forgotten sesh with your boyfriend.
©hxltic
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wandurrlust · 5 months
Text
each time you fall in love
pairing : osamu x y/n, suna x y/n
genre : angst
cw : established relationship, implied (emotional) cheating (?), mentions of cigarettes
words : 1.8k
a/n : i really hate the way tumblr drafts glitch
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When you're in love, you see it everywhere — on the coffee stains engraved within your favourite mug and on the rain soaked windows in the middle of the night. You see it in your reflection through your tear soaked eyes and you see it in the text from Osamu that says can we talk about this tomorrow?
You blame love when you're unable to sleep, because it hurts — it feels like your heart is being ripped right out of your ribcage and your lungs are being set on fire. Love is war, they say. Love is war, you know.
You love Osamu — you love him like the rain loves the ocean, like summer loves pink and like roses love sunshine. You love Osamu when the days are bleak and blend together with the night, you love him when the stars grow dull and the sky gets grey.
You love Osamu, except for when you don't. Except for when he's loud — when it's a crisp October evening outside but ice cold inside his apartment. When you're walking away, tears on your skin with his scarf around your neck — a promise of you'll never see him again.
You love Osamu. But you hate him when Suna welcomes you home, when you catch a whiff of coffee beans that almost put out the lingering scent of half lit cigarettes.
And when the credits of your favourite movie start rolling past Rin's laptop, you stifle a groan. Debating if telling him all about everything that went down today was worth it.
Did you fight again?
And there it is, you're telling him everything there is to tell. Because the softness in Rin's voice lets you know he cares and you know he cares far more than he'll ever admit.
Suna listens. He listens as your fingernails begin to press against your palm and he listens through the tremble that falls past your lips. He doesn't comfort you, not once.
He doesn't pull you close or rake his fingers through your hair. He doesn't whisper sweet nothings till you fall asleep in his arms. Because that's a line he'd rather not cross.
And that's okay, because that's how it's always been.
Suna is the home you retire to every night after work, one you'd built all by yourself. Suna is your best friend. But sometimes you wonder if you're his.
Osamu doesn't like Suna.
When you hear him say this for the first time, you laugh it off.
Are you jealous, Samu?
It's asked between breathy kisses and conjoined limbs, with his nose nuzzling the skin under your neck. And truth to be told, you don't want to know the answer.
Me jealous? Of Suna?
He whispers through your hair, not quite liking the sour aftertaste that lingers in his mouth at having uttered Suna. You find it bemusing, how Osamu refers to Rin by his last name despite having played on the same team as him all throughout highschool. Aren't they supposed to be the best of friends?
Not a chance sweetheart.
The second time he tells you this, it's bitter. Venom drips through his heavy voice and almost spills onto his vanilla skin — his words feel like thorns against your bare stomach, you think you're about to cough up blood.
Why is it always him over me?
Osamu knows that you probably think he's gone mad. But he can't help himself, not when it comes to Suna.
Samu, are you being serious?
He has to brace himself before he can face you again, do you seriously think he's making all of this up?
No sweetheart, of course not.
It's accompanied by a humourless chuckle, and Osamu feels his feet buckling beneath his weight. He should calm down. But fuck.
You don't understand what he's trying to get at. And quite frankly, you think he's being fucking unreasonable.
Samu what the fuck. Rin is my best friend.
And you can't imagine a life without Rin in it. Because for as long as you can recall, he's been there — looking over you from the stands.
But Osamu can't stand him — he's never been able to. Because Suna has always been sweeter, calmer, better. He's everything Samu could never be.
Rin is your best friend, but Samu doesn't like how the two of you stay up and night, talking to eachother. He doesn't like how you're looking for Suna after a long day. He doesn't like how good the two of you look together.
Right now, Osamu wants to push you away. But he can tell there's a lump in your throat and isn't going to die out any time soon. Because when you're angry, you cry.
Rin is your best friend, but when you're falling apart that night, it's in Osamu's arms.
Samu is there for you in ways Rin isn't. He pulls you close and kisses your hair before lacing his fingers with yours. You pull them to your lips. You don't want to let go.
I'm sorry, he whispers against you. It's fine, you say. Because with Osamu, it's always fine.
Rin is there for you when Samu isn't, when he hasn't been answering your calls for a week and when you're losing your fucking brain.
You're sat beside him on his apartment balcony, the tiles shoot chills through your body it stings against your skin.
You scrunch your nose up in order to keep up with the grey puffs of smoke above your head. You watch Suna inhale one, two, three drags of the cigarette held between his fingers.
The air between the two of you is silent. Neither one makes an attempt to break it down, you think it's better this way. And you think that's why you like being by Suna so much — he doesn't talk too much.
You extend your hand towards him, and he lets you grab the cigar from within his fingertips. His eyes flick to your mouth as you bring the cigarette to your lips and for a moment, his world comes to a halt.
You take a long breath, allowing the nicotine to take over your body, it tightens your chest and you let out a cough — cold and deliberate. Still Suna makes no attempt to make you feel at ease.
I thought you didn't smoke anymore.
Your voice is hoarse, it's the first thing you've said in six hours. There's no answer and honestly, you don't expect one. You let your eyes wander to the city lights underneath you, it reminds you of home — of Osamu. Of how he would wrap his arms around you and promise you the world every time he could.
Oh, I don't.
Fuck, you miss Osamu. You hate how you've been trying to reach out to him for days at an end now, only to be met by silence. Is he okay?
When the chill wind hits your scalp, your stomach sinks in. What if Samu decided he was finally done with you. Your vision begins to blur and your head hurts. Love is hell.
Bullshit Rin, you're a liar.
It's said through your teeth and pierces him like a dagger. He takes a breath to steady himself because it feels like he's about to fall.
Sometimes you wonder if Osamu sees you everywhere, if he loves you as much as you love him — if he loves you at all. But when you weave your fingers through his hair to lull him to sleep, you know it's futile worrying about useless stuff like that.
You know Osamu loves you.
Suna watches as your phone lights up, he watches as your eyes graze over the screen and your lips curl upwards. You let out a breath of relief and put out the cigarette on one of the tiles sitting on his balcony.
It's going to leave a stain, but Rin knows he isn't going to have the heart to scrub it off, it's a piece of you after all. One that he hopes he'll get to keep with himself for a long, long time.
He says he got caught up in some family stuff.
The words startle Suna, because he'd almost forgotten that there were people in this world besides the two of you. That there was Osamu, someone he could never win against. He'd forgotten that you weren't his, that no matter how little the gap between the two of you was, you'd never be his.
You aren't going to give him hell?
And you wonder why you aren't. You wonder why you'll always let Osamu walk over your heart and crush it into a hundred pieces, why you'll always hold your arms wide open for him to bury himself into, why you'll forever mutter an I understand despite wanting to rip the hair off your head.
He's probably already going through hell, Rin.
Suna’s chest constricts as he watches you bid goodbye to him. He doesn't know why but something about you leaving tonight makes it all seem so permanent, like he'd never get a chance to witness your presence beside him ever again.
He thinks he might pass out as he watches you finally step into the elevator, because even though he'd made you promise to not get into any trouble on the way to Osamu’s apartment, he knows it's nearly impossible for you.
Suna is your best friend but you forget all about him when you're watching it pour outside through the windows of Osamu's apartment.
You're sitting on the couch, lost in the haze like lovers on a Sunday morning. With Osamu, it's coffee breath and starlit nights, it's listening to Matty healy curse through the speakers and dancing around the living room with your lips drawn together.
Osamu is a promise, you believe; one that you'd made to yourself when you were seven, one that you hope you'll never end up breaking. He's a poem you'd written on your seventeenth birthday, he's the fire that lights up your lungs on a cold winter evening.
When you're in love, it feels like you're about to die. It's too good, too much. It feels like you're falling but you let yourself slip — because you know you'll have your lover waiting for you on the other side.
You love Osamu, you love him like he's your last breath and you love him like a silent prayer.
But when you're wishing Rin a happy birthday, he goes dizzy. Because he thinks he'll love you forever.
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