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snnbnny · 2 years

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Song stories; A concert six months from now by FINNEAS -> Let's fall in love for the night by FINNEAS cw: angst, the miya divide, break ups, random oc that you will never see again, we stand Ooim and Samu, this is kinda a mean tsumu fic

"I'm sorry, ma'am- Mr. Miya said he doesn't wish to see you." The receptionist told you with a sympathetic look, you were more then familiar with Sasuke- if it was a year ago the two of you would be exchanging playful banter as you walk past the MSBY gym's front desk.

You gave the man a melancholy smile and placed two sheets of paper, "It's alright- just give him these please, for old time sake. Have a good day Sasuke." The receptionist only knew the rumor's but by the sight of you was enough to gather that those rumor's held some truth. Bags haunt your normally lively but now sad and exhausted eyes, you had lost weight and life both literally and physically, you looked like you had gone threw a wringer and was losing a battle with life.

He couldn't help himself but to look at what you left, there was a concert ticket to a band he had heard Atsumu Miya loved. Also on the desk was a note,

" I got these tickets gifted to me by someone who didn't know we had broken up, it didn't feel like it was something I should keep so I wished to give these to you- take who you want, should bring that girl you left me for. That's what I've deduced this down to anyways, it's not like I got an explanation.

I came home from visiting my sister to find OUR apartment barren of things of yours. Only hint of your existence was you waiting for me on the sofa, scrolling threw your phone like you weren't about to end my whole world. All you said was, "I can't do this anymore, you know I love ya- but this ain't workin'." You didn't let me speak, you just walked out. I thought we were good, sure we fought but I had never loved someone so fiercely. I'll go hungry and crazy and honest for you I don't always get angry but I'm promisin' to. Not past tense, present. Because despite it all I still love you Atsumu Miya, I never will not pine for you. Never not reach for you at night.

I have been having such a hard time without you, this year has been a blur of constant low points. I've been thinkin' too much and it's ruined my nights, and my days. Not to guilt you, of course. In the past we were always honest about our feelings, so here is my last confession: I've been in a constant state of depression and anxiety, it's been to much, my life has been ruined and even the moments where I'm ok because I can't let myself slide.

If I could see the future, I'd tell myself that you weren't worth it. I never would believe that though, I can't ever call you quits.

I'll wait for years, but I won't wait alone. And then someday you'll wait for my face on your phone.

Love, Y/N "

By the time Sasuke had read the letter over for the 7th time with tears clouding his eyes the jackel's practice was over and the players were coming threw together in order to go out as was the norm for Friday practice. Shoyo Hinata was leading the group with eagerness, telling the men behind him a story from his time in Argentina- until he noticed the dark haired receptionist distraught state.

"And the ball zoom's right into- Toge?? Dude are you ok?" The ginger rushed to the desk, almost impaling himself on the corner of the granite. The others are quick to follow in both confusion and concern.

To be honest Sasuke hadn't actually told Miya that you had showed up, following instructions he had been given by the jackal's captain when Miya had told him of the break up- Meian hadn't given any details but the staff all had their own, and mostly cruel towards you, theories. So Toge had thought it best to just go to the break room and come back before sending you off. Now both shame, guilt, and pity had settled into his stomach. It took the man to notice the pro's surrounding his desk eyeing him with different expressions.

Kiyoomi Sakusa gently took the piece of paper from Sasuke's hands while Oliver barns glanced over the tickets which sit where you had placed them. Sakusa quickly read the note, looked up at the receptionist with pure confusion before reading it again (this time with both Oliver Barns and Koutaro Bokuto reading over his strong shoulders. All three took different lengths of time to read the emotional note before looking up with the same processing expression towards Toge.

"I'm sorry guys, just a little overwhelmed by something nothing to worry about," the man behind the counter took the paper back from the three and spoke towards the others- trying to brush it off, unsure of how to proceed.

"Nothing my ass, just read whatever that is out to the class-" the blonde wing spiker teased before a now disgusted Kiyoomi cut him off.

"It's from, Y/N," the curly dark haired player took the paper once again and this time shoved it into Miya's broad chest.

...

You sat in Onigiri Miya sipping a perfect cup of coffee, you were disheveled and emotional when you visited the black jackal's gym- so you didn't blame the receptionist's pitying expression- but now you were wearing nice clothes, showered, and rejuvenated from the day's you had slept in the restaurants owner's apartment.

Speaking of him, he sits down across from you placing a plate of onigiri infront of you both. He wore a smile that warmed your healing heart, "You ok?"

"Yeah," you nodded, taking his calloused hands in yours. "I'm ok."

"Uhuh... eat somethin' doll before ya wither away to nothing." Osamu shoved the plate closer to you, glancing out the front window before looking back at you with a look of love. "I know better then to call ya mine, angel. But I can' help but to think m'brother's the dumbest motha'fuckr out there, cause I love ya. So gimme a chance, ya won' stay with me, I know. Bu' ya can have yer way with me 'til ya leave."

You stood up, making the man's heart drop until he felt you sit beside him and wrap yourself around him, "You have me, Samu. Took me way to long to become worthy of you, I'm sorry. But you've stood beside me, forgoing your own bond with your brother for me- which I'm also sorry for- What I'm saying is, I wish I could've met you before I was wrapped into Atsumu's web-"

No more words needed to be exchanged, you saw it on Osamu's face that he understood, confirmed by the chuckle he exhaled, "I love ya, but sometimes you talk to much for yer own good. Love when ya talk that nerdy shit, though."

"Ass," You kissed him, stole his breathe away and sucked it into your own lungs. He tasted of home and onigiri, a taste you wish to savor for the rest of your life.

#idk i just had the compulsion to write this when I heard the first song #osamu drabble #hq osamu #osamu x reader #miya osamu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu #atsumu hcs #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x you #hq atsumu #atsumu angst #atsumu miya x reader #the miya divide #hq angst #haikyuu angst

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crystlfied · 2 years

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atsumu goes all out for the met gala, osamu wears a plain black suit

This is the miya divide.

#the miya divide #haikyuu!!#hq!!#met gala #miya osamu #miya atsumu #miya twins #msby atsumu

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petriquors · 8 months

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POV: you gave your neighbor your spare key

a/n: gn!reader, post-timeskip, breakups, hurt/comfort, pining

You regret giving your spare key to your neighbor, Osamu.

It started with a business trip. You needed someone to water your plants, and he didn’t mind stopping at your place on his way to work. Then, you became friends, and it became an easy way to see each other. After all, it saves you the effort of getting up and opening the door when he comes over.

This time is different.

This time, your response to seeing Osamu walk through your door isn’t a smile with crinkled eyes. It’s a dejected “You should go.”

The door closes. You hear, “Like Hell I should.”

You're laying on your side, wrapped in your favorite blanket on your sofa. Your eyes sting, so you close them and will away another wave of tears. It’s been a long day: what should have been an easy day off for you started with getting dumped by the guy you’ve been seeing.

Over text.

At 5 A.M.

“Sit up,” Osamu pauses, and you hear the rustling of a plastic bag, “or you’ll choke on your own snot.”

“Aren’t you nice?” You mutter and wrinkle your nose but sit up anyway. It’s the first time you’ve moved in over an hour, so your shoulders ache in protest, and your head spins as it reacclimates to being right side up.

After just a few minutes, Osamu brings a cup of tea into your living room. It’s in your favorite mug, and from where you’re sitting, you can already smell that it’s your favorite variety. You watch him warily, unsure what he’s going to do or why he even bothered to come. You were perfectly ready to spend today crying alone, but now there’s someone else in your space.

And if the scowl he wears is anything to go by, he won't let you be alone.

He sets the teacup down on the coffee table. You watch steam slowly billow off the liquid’s surface, wafting through the air at a pace so gentle that you feel your lungs begin to relax for the first time all day.

In the corner of your eye, you see Osamu moving again, and then he fills your vision: broad shoulders, strong jaw, worried scowl. He’s kneeling right in front of you, hands on his thighs, brow deeply creased. He’s silent. Watching you.

Suddenly nervous, you open your mouth and say, “I’m sorry—”

He puts a hand on the sofa cushion, next to your thigh. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“But—”

He scoffs as if the very notion of you apologizing to him is offensive. “Would you let me apologize to you for accepting your help when I need it?”

You grumble because he’s right, and also because it’s hard to accept the fact that being dumped is a lot easier to deal with when you’re not all alone.

And yet, you can’t help but wonder, “How’d you find out?”

“Group chat,” he says, and that makes you roll your eyes. You told one of your other friends, so of course she metaphorically ran off to the group chat to tell everyone else—probably in the name of ripping off the Band-Aid so you don’t have to.

You close your eyes for a second that feels like an hour. Maybe if you open them again, this will all be a nightmare, you’ll be in your bed, it’ll still be the middle of the night, and you’ll still be seeing the guy who dumped you.

But that would also mean Osamu wouldn’t be kneeling in front of you. Why does the lack of Osamu bother you more than the lack of your ex?

You look down at your hands as if their lines and creases hold all the answers in the universe. They don’t. “I just wanted to mean something to him.”

“You mean everything to people that matter a lot more than him.”

His voice is so uncharacteristically low that your eyes snap up to his. His eyes are a little wide as if he can’t believe he just said that, his lips are parted as if he wants to say something more, and he swallows hard as if gulping down a mountain of emotions.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Why?” you venture.

Osamu thinks that’s an unfair question to ask, and he wants to tell you just as much. But when you look at him with wide eyes that haven’t been free from tears for hours, he realizes that you—strong, vibrant, wonderful you—need a gentle touch whether you like it or not.

He reaches for the steaming cup of tea, now cool enough not to burn you, and places it in your hands. Your fingers touch; his breath catches. Your hands are colder than he expected, so he says, “Drink.”

When you take a long sip of tea, he tries to find a few seconds of peace to sort through his own mess of thoughts. He didn’t account for the fact that you were going to close your eyes, which makes your lashes dust over the tops of your cheeks, which makes him think about wiping away your tears with his own hands.

He shouldn’t touch you like that. Maybe you’d think it’s just a friendly gesture, but he would know that he really means to take care of you better than the jerk who dumped you ever did.

And that means protecting your heart, even at the expense of his own.

He swears to himself that he won’t be a rebound. It’d be wrong to take advantage of you in a moment as vulnerable as this one, and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt you like that. But he’ll be damned if he lets you suffer like this alone.

“Thank you for being here,” you murmur, and your words stab him right through the heart. You have no idea what saying things like that does to him, to the longing he’s been feeling for you. That feeling has become so familiar to him that it feels like it’s a part of him now.

“Of course I’d be here,” he chokes out, forcing his voice to be gentle, gentle. His heart trembles and quakes when he sees what this other guy did to you, but rather than find out where this guy works and ask him what his problem is, Osamu wants to be right here, comforting you.

“You should be smiling,” he continues, unable to stop the words on their rapid descent from brain to mouth. His voice is so soft and raspy that even he doesn’t recognize himself. “You shouldn’t be worrying about what he thinks of you.”

He only wants you to be happy. It really is that simple. It always has been.

So, he silently promises himself and you that he’s going to wait. He’s going to be here for you while you heal from this, and he’ll help you heal from this—and when you’re ready, if you’ll have him, he’ll be yours.

"I brought ice cream," he changes the subject, afraid of how desperate he is to see you smile again. "Want some?"

He already belongs to you, anyway. Who cares if it takes you a little more time to realize it?

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #osamu x reader #osamu x you #osamu fluff #osamu headcanons #osamu comfort #my stuff #my fluff #my miya osamu stuff #my miya osamu fluff #dividers by cafekitsune

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plutoccult · 3 months

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FINGER LICKIN’ YEAH WE COOKIN’ UP A SUPER BOWL

pairing: osamu miya x female reader

description: osamu wasn’t a fan of football nor parties. however, it is only you that could convince him to agree to atsumu’s shenanigans.

word count: 4.4k

also available to read on my ao3 here

author’s note: SURPRISE!!! i had intended to write for osamu before, but the idea instead went to another character. i never forgot about my foodie king though! plus, it’s super bowl sunday, so i HAD to put this out in enough time. the idea came last minute, so i was in a bit of a rush, but i managed! sorry if it seems rushed, i truly was trying my best to get this done in time. i also apologize if anyone seems ooc, i was honest to god trying my best. for timeline’s sake, i’d say the twins are 21 in this one shot, so not quite yet to the point where osamu has his own onigiri shop and atsumu is on the japan national team. anyway, happy super bowl sunday, and enjoy! (btw i totally named this after super bowl by stray kids)

tags: @toorubobatea @intorder @dragon-slayer5 @femme-lune @darthferbert @5sos-wdw @todorokiskitten @intheewrld

taglist form here

osamu wasn’t thrilled when his twin atsumu sprung the idea of having a super bowl party on him out of nowhere.

“they do it in america! it’s huge there!” his twin argued, detailing everything he knows about the tradition. sure, they do air the event in japan, but what was the point? an excuse to eat and drink? hangout with their buddies from both the past and present? actually, no. osamu figured out atsumu’s motive quickly; it was an excuse for osamu to cook a bunch of food.

there was no denying atsumu was clueless in the kitchen. if it were up to him to cook anything more complex than eggs and toast, he’d burn the whole place down. osamu was better off handling majority of anything food related. his brother was lucky he enjoyed the art of cooking.

“i’m not dealing with a stupid party, tsumu.” osamu crossed his arms in protest. there was no way he was going to deal with an inevitable mess. having to cook all the food and clean up the mess after? nope, no way. he refused to do it alone. luckily, his twin could figure that out quickly.

“ah, ah, ah. i knew you’d say that.” atsumu smirked. “y/n already told me she’d help you make the food.”

the mention of your name immediately perked up osamu. best friends since high school, it was blatantly obvious you had captured the shyer twin from the start, although—like with everyone else—he could easily assume you were more drawn to atsumu as he was always so unashamedly outspoken. everyone talked to atsumu more, but even so, you always treated the twins equally. mayhaps that is why he longed for you so much.

“y/n did?” osamu asked.

“and she’s bringing cake.” his brother added.

a woman after his own heart, really, and a foodie just like osamu. you always joked about opening a bakery next door once he finally opened up the onigiri shop he dreamed of. the goal was sometime next year, so maybe catering this party would be good practice. plus, it was a good excuse to be close to you like osamu craved.

“she is?” he questioned further. if his brother wasn’t kidding around, then maybe he’d feel more inclined to agree.

“you’re not gonna say no, right?” atsumu teased. osamu grunted in response, too stubborn to say anything, which atsumu recognized. it is only his twin who can easily detect his weakness; you.

“you’re such a sucker, osamu.” he chuckled. even if osamu were a sucker for you, he wouldn’t want to be one for anyone else. and it’s not like he’s totally clueless. he’d mess with his twin somehow.

“i’ll do it…“ osamu said before stating his only condition. “if you clean up the place afterwards.”

“what?!” atsumu gawked.

“it’s only fair, right?” osamu shrugged. two can play at that game. “i cook, you clean.”

unfortunately, atsumu had no choice but to suck it up. truth be told, he orchestrated you assisting with food preparations for the sake of getting you and osamu together alone. if he says no now, then his little secret wingman plan would be a waste, so atsumu had to accept his fate.

“pft, ass.” he huffed. atsumu should’ve known better than to try playing games with his brother, knowing he could easily match his game.

“just be lucky i agreed to your idiocy.” osamu scoffed.

“only because y/n is helping!” atsumu whined. while that may be true, osamu would probably never hear the end of it if he said no whether you were involved or not.

“did i hear only onigiri on the menu?” osamu joked, knowing that would irritate his twin to no end.

“osamu!”

truth be told, he couldn’t wait for sunday now.

•••

over the next few days, osamu had kept in almost constant communication with you over text discussing food options for the party. his signature onigiri was a must despite atsumu’s protest, but other options were in store thanks to your combined brainstorming. osamu couldn’t help but ask what kind of cake you’d bring, and was ultimately disappointed when you said it was a surprise with many winky emojis involved.

when sunday finally rolled around, osamu was more energized than usual. whether that be from excitement or nerves, who knew? atsumu’s plan was going in motion quite nicely and you hadn’t even arrived yet. he truly felt like a genius assisting in his brother’s quest for love.

osamu paced back and forth around the apartment in anticipation for your arrival. the kitchen was spotless, plus the fridge and cabinets were filled to the brim with everything needed for the party. on top of that, he put atsumu up to the task of decorating the place. knowing who would have to deal with cleaning up later was the greatest part of all.

once a knock on the door emerged, the two twins battled over who got to open the door, osamu ultimately losing as his brother elbowed him in the stomach and made a run for it. if there were a best sibling award, it was clear who wouldn’t win it.

“hello, miya twins! i’ve arrived!” you said upon entering the door, your arms occupied with bags, hopefully full of sweet treats.

“hey, y/n.” atsumu greeted you, beating osamu to it as he was still recovering from what occurred just moments ago.

you—already knowing your way around the place—set your bags down on the counter before instructing that they put its contents in the fridge as soon as possible. atsumu obliged despite wondering how he would play tetris with the fridge. but before he could figure out that puzzle, he received a quick hug from you as that was your typical greeting for the twins.

“y/n?” you turn around and see osamu standing a few feet away. he wanted to curse his brother for getting to say hi to you first, but once he saw that smile on your face, all anger towards atsumu faded away in an instant.

“ah, there you are!” you exclaim, rushing towards osamu and welcoming him with a big hug, one that lasted longer than the one you shared with atsumu. you held him tight, almost squeezing the life out of him as you pulled him from side to side. it didn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe, osamu was just happy to feel so welcomed by you.

“ready to cook up a super bowl?” you ask once you finally allowed osamu the ability to breathe. “i already made desserts in advance, so i can help with what you’ve got planned.”

“i could’ve helped with that…” osamu pouted. any more excuse to be around you was all he wanted, really. plus, he was curious to know your baking secrets. he always figured you were born a master.

“but that would ruin the surprise, silly.” you poke his arm. if it were his stomach, he might have folded over. thank god you were gentle.

as much as you wanted your desserts to remain a surprise until the party started, atsumu had to immediately ruin the fun for you. “there’s a cake shaped like a football.”

“atsumu!” you scold him. “ever heard of surprises, or has your brain become mush from too many volleyballs to the head?”

“yeah, yeah.” atsumu rolled his eyes. “i’ll leave you two to get started with everything. i trust you not to burn the place down.”

“only you would do that, tsumu.” you say. the way you teased atsumu was something osamu always loved about you. you were just as relentless as him, truly. besides, someone else besides osamu had to humble the ever-so-bold twin.

“exactly. later!” atsumu said before he left you and osamu alone in the kitchen.

osamu let out a sigh the moment his brother left the room. you immediately take notice, assuming he didn’t want to be doing this for atsumu. you hoped at the very least he enjoyed your presence today.

“i take it you’re doing all this against your will?” you question, curiosity getting to the best of you.

“not exactly…” osamu replied.

“well, i couldn’t really say no to him, so…” you shy away from the truth. it would be embarrassing if you were to admit to osamu why you agreed to this, but he was painfully oblivious, assuming it was all for his brother’s sake. not because you wanted to spend time with him and only him. it seemed you were both hiding your intentions.

“yeah, of course.” osamu frowned. it’s atsumu we’re talking about.

tension quickly filled the room. you sense the uncomfortable vibe instantly, wondering if you said something wrong. was it really something you said? you didn’t seem to think so. maybe getting things started in the kitchen for the party will help.

“shall we get started?” you ask hesitantly. “i was thinking we shape the onigiri into footballs. ya know, to fit the theme.”

osamu chuckled at your idea. at least you could see him smile now. he seemed to find it cute, but also funny how you wanted to make as many items on the menu football shaped as possible.

“i could try that.” he said, trying to hold back any more laughter. if osamu were to laugh any more, he was afraid you’d think he was making fun of your idea.

“cool, i’ll get started on the wings while you get started on that.” you say without skipping a beat, immediately grabbing ingredients like you knew this kitchen as if it were your own.

osamu didn’t seem to mind it this way with you around. he’d spend the whole day in the kitchen with you, even if all you did was sit on the counter and watch while he did all the work. but that’s not who you are, you refused to leave him to do everything. most importantly, you refused to let him feel alone.

soon enough, the kitchen grew quiet, the sounds of timers beeping and water running from the sink on occasion serving as background noise. you and osamu worked together in perfect harmony, like a well oiled machine. your chemistry oozed in the room and neither of you had to say a word to each other. it was easy for you two to figure out who did what most effiently. osamu could never do this with anyone else this way, you feeling the same way, although those thoughts remained unspoken.

the lack of chatter made atsumu worried. he had been trying to eavesdrop while he was supposed to be decorating, but found it to be too quiet for his liking. as atsumu tried to lean a little more, hoping to hear something worthwhile, he ended up tripping over an extension cord, blowing his cover as he tripped right into the kitchen.

atsumu’s sudden crash startled the both of you, osamu almost dropping the pot in his hands and you almost slicing your finger as you chopped an onion.

“atsumu!” you yell as you set your knife down. atsumu was lucky you didn’t decide to threateningly wave it around right now. “the hell are you doing?!”

“it got quiet, so i was getting worried…” he answered, slowly getting back to his feet as he feared for his life. would atsumu rather face his brother’s wrath or your wrath? both of you together may be the worst combination of all, really.

“what, worried that we disappeared and left you with all this food to cook?” you cross your arms. “osamu said you were decorating, and this doesn’t look like decorating to me.”

“i was taking a break?” atsumu shrugged. that was the worst answer in the world, even he could admit that.

“just go.” osamu let out a groan. it was bad enough that atsumu used you as a way to persuade him to cook for the party, but to eavesdrop on what you two were doing? what was he trying at here? as much as osamu was curious to know, he just wanted to get back to cooking with you without any worries.

“fine…” atsumu sighed, going back to the dreadful duty of decorating all by his lonesome. the sacrifices he’s made for the sake of his brother and the girl he’s loved for years. how tragic… not.

once atsumu left, you burst into laughter. osamu furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “what’s so funny?”

“oh, just the look on his face when he got caught.” you giggle.

“yeah…” he said. it was funny, osamu could admit that, but he feared that his twin had devious plans up his sleeve. who knows if he’ll make it through the end of the day with some sort of dignity left?

•••

hours later, atsumu’s teammates from the black jackals arrived for the party. osamu was acquainted with some of them—most definitely more than acquainted with a certain pipsqueak named shoyo hinata—but he was more looking forward to seeing some of his teammates from high school, especially aran and kita. he would talk to suna, but the poor guy looked like he wanted to leave more than anything.

you seemed quite occupied at the moment, mostly due to bokuto talking your ear off about how delicious the cookies you made were. you were more than aware of his loud personality, but seeing it up close was far different than just watching him play on the court. at least you knew it wasn’t for show during matches.

osamu considered being your knight in shining armor by finding an excuse to steal you away, but he feared facing the embarrassment of his friends who wouldn’t hesitate to tease him. even if you looked at him with pleading eyes, he still hesitated. if only osamu had the guts to be a little brave for once, not standing in the shadows.

“samu…” atsumu called for him. osamu turned his attention away from watching you to see what his brother wanted, although a little annoyed.

“hm?”

“we’re out of rice. can you make more?” he asked.

osamu blinked a few times, unsure if he actually heard that correctly. “we’re… out?”

“kita ate it all up.” atsumu said.

“really?” osamu groaned. he didn’t even want to think of the logistics of his former captain eating so much rice so quickly. “grow your own rice or something, man.”

“maybe i will…” kita replied calmly, now pondering over the thought of becoming a rice farmer. it didn’t seem so bad, actually. unfortunately, the rice couldn’t just grow and magically appear already cooked. osamu wished it worked that way.

“i’ll go make more.” osamu sighed. “call for me when it’s halftime.”

once he left to head to the kitchen, you watched as he walked away, tempted to follow. maybe if you found an excuse to leave the room, like go get a drink or go to the bathroom or something. that oughta work, right?

“hey, bokuto?” you stop him mid sentence as he was still going on about your baking. “i gotta go to the bathroom. i’ll be back, okay?”

“don’t forget to give me your cookie recipe!” bokuto exclaimed as you left the living room.

atsumu raised an eyebrow upon your sudden exit, a smirk creeping up on his face soon following once he put the pieces together. “she’s not going to the bathroom…”

you find osamu already cooking, the rice cooker at work while he prepared more rice to be cooked just incase. he’d rather be safe than sorry now. osamu didn’t notice you walk in at first, but your presence became apparent soon enough once you tapped him on the shoulder.

“man, you scared me.” he chuckled, you also sharing a laugh with him. “you don’t have to help me. i’ve got this.”

“what, want some practice for when you finally open up that restaurant?” you question. osamu furrowed his eyebrows, asking “huh?” until you explained what you meant. “onigiri miya. i’ve been waiting.”

“oh, right…” osamu said, almost forgetting that little dream of his. “that.”

“well, when is it finally gonna happen?” you ask. he had talked about it for so long, and you always waited for the day it’d finally come to fruition. you probably believed in him more than he’s ever believed in himself, honestly.

“mmm, i don’t know.” he replied shyly. “next year would be nice, but there’s so many things to think about.”

“wait, really? why didn’t you tell me?!” you gasp, shocked he’d hide such an important detail from you.

“it’s just, uh, kinda scary when you admit it out loud.” osamu said. his dream of opening up his own restaurant was as scary as trying to admit the truth of his feelings. dreaming is one thing, but trying to make it a reality was another.

“samu, you know you can do it! i’ve always believed in you!” you admit, taking osamu by surprise despite how confident you always spoke about him.

“you have?”

“yes!” you say without hesitation. “from the day i met you.”

“wow, thank you…” osamu blushed. you get lost in each other’s eyes, although osamu wondered if it’s just in his imagination that you’re staring at him so intently. suddenly, the moment was ruined.

“hey, do you smell something burning?” you question as you try to sniff out the strange smell. osamu figured it out immediately, knowing it was the rice everyone was waiting on.

“the rice!” he exclaimed, rushing to the rice cooker. “i put the rice cooker on high so it’d get done faster…”

“aw, no!” you say. “is it salvageable?”

“no…” osamu sighed, looking down at the damage. “if anything, it’s a sign i shouldn’t have my own restaurant.”

to him, this was stupid. if he doesn’t do everything perfectly, then what’s the point? it seemed to silly to immediately think the worst, that this was a sign of imminent failure. osamu was good at keeping that competitive perfectionist part of him hidden to most, always making it seem like he just gets everything right the first time, but only you can see that he has flaws. at the end of the day, you continue to be his weakness, but that doesn’t mean you don’t make him feel strong.

“hey, hey, hey.” you grab his arm, a jolt coming from osamu by your sudden touch. “you overcook rice one time and all of the sudden your dream is dead? chefs mess up all the time. you’re human, you know. i think you’ve forgotten that.”

“but—”

“i mean, come on. you think i just magically knew how to make a cake one day?” you ask jokingly. even if you meant for the question to be a silly one, osamu took it quite literally.

“honestly? yeah. the first time you brought cake to school for me and sumu’s birthday was the best thing i ever tasted.” he said, recalling your first year of high school together. you hadn’t been friends with the twins for that long at that point, but you decided to surprise them with a cake for their birthday as it fell on a school day. like osamu said, it was the best thing he ever tasted. he felt like he found his future wife in that moment.

“samu, i spent all night making like five different cakes cause i kept messing them up.” you confess. it was a secret you carried for years, shocked you never said anything before, but only just now having the guts to say it. even so, osamu couldn’t believe it to be true. he always swore your skills came to you like second nature. how come he never knew before? you were very good at hiding things, it seemed.

“you did? why?” he asked.

“because…” you hesitate. might as well fess up, you suppose. “i really wanted you to like it.”

“me and tsumu?” osamu questioned. what an idiot.

you shake your head, almost tempted to laugh over how blind he was to what you were trying to say. part of you was a little frustrated, but you wouldn’t let that get to the best of you. “you really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

“i guess i am…” he replied, unsure of what else to say.

you let out a sigh. should you say it? the whole truth? you didn’t know it, but you were in the same boat as osamu. you did this for each other without even realizing it. it is you, however, who will be brave enough to admit such a truth. no going back now after you’ve already admitted so much.

“i only agreed to helping with this party because atsumu knew i wanted an excuse to be close to you.” you tell him, looking away. osamu swore you looked ashamed to say those words out loud, but even so, the truth shocked him to the very core.

“he… what?”

when you grant yourself the guts to look him in the eye once more, the look on his face made you think you shouldn’t have said anything. but osamu wanted to scream, scream about how long he liked you and how he never thought he’d see this day. he didn’t know if the universe planted the seeds for this very moment, but he couldn’t let it slip away. not when you believed in him like it was breathing.

“nothing. don’t worry about it.” you shake your head. “i’ll help you restart the rice. hungry people waiting.”

“no.” osamu stopped you. you freeze in your tracks, waiting for what else he had to say. “forget the rice.”

“huh—”

“why do you think i told tsumu i’d help with this party?” he asked. you’re at a loss for words, unsure of what to say. it is usually you who stood tall, but osamu took your place, taking charge for the sake of making sure you knew the truth. “i said i would because he told me you were coming here. he knew you were the only thing that’d get me to say yes. called me a sucker and everything.”

your cheeks flush, a smile creeping up on your face as the realization of osamu’s mutuals feelings hit you. “guess i’m a sucker too.”

osamu let out a sigh of relief, overcome with joy as he couldn’t control his grin. with that look on your face, he almost wanted to kiss you right then and there. should he kiss you right now? no, osamu should ask permission first. couldn’t be too confident, right? or were you trying to say something with your eyes? god, osamu didn’t have a clue on what to do.

“can you two please just kiss already so i can get back to the party?”

you and osamu share a gasp. it was atsumu, no doubt about it. that bitch, you both think to yourselves. was he eavesdropping on that whole conservation? pause. now they both knew atsumu did all of this on purpose. he had a lot of explaining to do, that’s for sure.

without having to speak a word, you and osamu find atsumu in the hallway, both tugging him by his shirt and pulling him to the ground. your combined anger undoubtedly scared the shit out of him.

“you!” you grab the collar of atsumu’s shirt. “you set this all up!”

“i bet you don’t even like football!” osamu yelled.

“yeah!” you say in agreement without thinking.

“hey, i’m innocent, your honor! innocent!” atsumu raised his hands up in the air, squeezing his eyes shut as he anticipated one of you to start hitting him.

“no wonder you agreed to clean if i cooked!” osamu exclaimed.

“he agreed to clean?!“ you loudly gasp. funnily enough, that was the most shocking thing you’ve heard all day.

“listen to me, okay?!” atsumu forced your hand away from his collar. you take a step back and give him the chance to speak, although you were more than prepared to start swinging if need be. “i just really wanted you two to stop being wusses about your feelings. now you both know, all thanks to me.”

you and osamu soften up. even if it seemed a tad bit manipulative, neither of you could deny that it was actually kind of… sweet? all that cooking was a pain in the ass, but it brought you together and pushed you to admit your truths.

“i really do like you, osamu.” you say, looking into osamu’s eyes, not wavering for a second. there was no need for either of you to hide anymore. “since the day we met.”

“me too.” osamu replied, the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen plastered on his face.

“i sense a super emotional moment—” atsumu tried to say in the midst of his escape attempt. however, you grab him by the wrist, almost pulling his arm by his socket. “ow!”

“come here.” you pull him in for a hug, osamu too, practically squeezing the two to death. “you’re a pain, but thank you, atsumu.”

“can i go now?” he asked, trying his best to writhe out of your grasp. you were strong, atsumu couldn’t deny that.

“yeah, yeah. get outta here.” you scoff as you let him free.

atsumu mumbled some words over how it was “about damn time” on his way out, which sent you and osamu into a fit of giggles. once the laughter died down, reality set in. now both you knew that you liked each other, so what now? what else was there to do?

“so…”

“so..?”

“you think they’re all still waiting on that rice?” you ask awkwardly.

that was the last thing osamu cared about in this moment, truly. he waited so long for this, never thinking there ever was a chance. dare he ask you to pinch him would seem silly now. all he wanted to do now was finally kiss you without hesitating.

“oh, screw the rice.” osamu said, grabbing your hand as he pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. your hand that clasped his rested over his chest, his heartbeat thumping against your touch. has his heart always beat this fast in your presence for all this time, you couldn’t help but wonder. it was safe to say no one was getting their rice now, but neither of you gave a damn.

meanwhile, in the living room, atsumu finally returned, although with an irritated look on his face. he sat down in between bokuto and hinata, who were both curious about the food.

“hey, how’s the rice going—” hinata began to ask before being quickly cut off by atsumu.

“just watch the stupid game.”

#haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #haikyu x female reader #osamu miya x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu x female reader #osamu miya x female reader #osamu x female reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #pluto writes 📝#gif divider by cafekitsune

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wttcsms · 4 months

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nanami is the type to resign himself to sleeping on the couch when he's sick because he doesn't want you to catch it, too. gojo is the type who gets you to lean closer to him so he can attack you with kisses so now the both of you are sick. this is just one instance of the great divide between nanami and gojo. in this essay i will-

#this was originally my idea for a miya twin divide shitpost #guess which one was atsumu and which one was osamu #i have a couple of assignments im forcing myself to do tonight but hopefully i'll be back to terrorize u all @ 10 #mwah luv u byeeee

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ch9xhleye · 4 months

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hiiii can i have headers for this icon pls? thank you!!!<3

hii of course! hope you like it ♡⁠

thanks for the request!

headers/divider are mine

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emmyrosee · 1 year

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I want the miya divide to be Atsumu having the sweetest, cutest laugh, and Osamu’s laugh to be horrendous.

I want Atsumu to just giggle and snort when someone says a funny joke, only throwing his soul into his laughter when someone catches him off guard, or just completely amuses him. I want him to whine softly while he laughs, and I want it to make girls swoon and catch everyone off guard because how could something so cute come from someone so obnoxious?

And I want Osamu to be heard across buildings. I want him to wheeze like a kettle and snort and tear up when he laughs because his body just can’t handle the sheer force of his grin. I want him to smack his knees when he can’t find the air to laugh aloud, and for the love of god I want him to snort so loud. His laugh makes others laugh, it’s so horrible, and I want him to be so humiliated by it that it’s so adorable.

I want people to absolutely be blindsided by the way they laugh, I want people to be floored, I want people to be concerned. I want customers at onigiri miya to laugh amongst themselves when osamu laughs, and I want- no, I need, MSBY to tease them both about how tf their laughters got so switched, followed by an offended snap from Atsumu.

I just… laughs are my favorite man. Fuckin love laughter.

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naofairy · 1 month

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(This is my first fic in English, let's go)

A game of tongues slowly faded into lingering pecks, while both he and Kiyoomi tried to catch their breaths. His boyfriend’s hand, previously wandering over his flushed skin and leaving traces of strong grips and occasional scratches, now stopped in the middle of his chest. Soft dark curls gently tickled his neck as Kiyoomi pressed three more kisses above his clavicle. Usually, Atsumu let himself melt under the familiarity and comfort of this touch, but tonight his mind seemed to find itself somewhere else.

“Did I hurt you?“ There was a minute change in Kiyoomi’s expression, a delicate furrow of his brow that could easily go unnoticed if you weren’t as familiar with it. Soft brown eyes briefly met with expectant onyx ones.

“Nah, ‘s not that,“ Atsumu answered quietly, averting his gaze, the certainty of his voice lost somewhere in the darkness of their bedroom.

“What is it then? You’re rarely this quiet.”

There was really no point in avoiding the conversation. He could never keep his mouth shut long enough and the only person other than his twin who could effectively persuade him into opening up about his feelings was lying here beside him with still warm sheets tangled around their legs.

“Been thinkin’ for some time now… ‘S probably a bit selfish to ask…” He curled himself into the warmth of the pale chest and released a shaky breath as if his emotions could flow right out with it. “I wanna stay here. With ya.”

Kiyoomi’s eyes searched Atsumu’s face, trying to determine the meaning behind his expression.

“What exactly do you mean by that? It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon.” There was a time when Kiyoomi’s focused gaze would have felt heavy, but with years of their relationship, this sharp look, along with the present weight of his palm against Atsumu’s chest, was assuring enough.

“I know. ‘S just…” He followed the scattered moles on Kiyoomi’s chest with his fingertip. “With Shouyou goin’ back to Brazil, Kageyama movin’ to Italy, Ushijima to Poland… Shit, even Oikawa in Argentina. It’s like everyone’s leavin’ sooner or later.”

It was almost impossible not to think about it. With how many years they’ve all spent on the court it was an expected change. They went to the Olympics, of course they were valued internationally. And while Atsumu always aimed for the sky with his dreams, he began to show more appreciation towards the permanent things in life as he got older. Like the after-training car ride home in the passenger seat, when they would listen to the latest episodes of Kiyoomi’s favourite podcasts or staying after hours at Osamu’s shop to talk shit with his brother and steal some umeboshi onigiri for his boyfriend. It granted him comfort he was scared was too easy to lose.

“I like it here in Osaka. And I love playin’ for MSBY. I love our apartment. I love havin’ ‘Samu close. Don’t get me wrong, I’m aware they’re all these great opportunities to grow, I just… Kinda feel like I wanna grow right here.” He rarely got this self-conscious with Kiyoomi. They often joked and snickered and teased, but their line of communication always remained open. However, this was different. This was about their future and he knew Kiyoomi took it seriously. He wasn’t going to hold him back from pursuing his goals. If there was a call tomorrow and Kiyoomi would want to take that spot, Atsumu would let him, no questions asked.

But here they were now, Atsumu blissed out, cuddled to Kiyoomi’s warmth and with his heart fragile and open.

His lover’s gaze never strayed from his face.

“Okay,” Kiyoomi said and Atsumu could finally breathe again. “Then let’s stay here.”

“Wait, what?!” He sat up on the bed alarmed, the warmth of Kiyoomi’s body now replaced by the sudden increase in his own heart rate. “Yer not serious, are ya? I’m not askin’ ya to do that, though! Just sharin’ my thoughts.”

“Yes, I’m serious. I have nothing against staying here.” Kiyoomi’s expression was nothing but earnest.

“But ya don’t understand! It’s not whether ya have somethin’ against that or not. Ya have to think ‘bout yerself. Ya can’t give away yer future just ‘cause I said so.”

“I know that.” Kiyoomi sighed, slowly getting up. “But you also know how I feel about change. Do you think I’d be ecstatic to leave behind all of this for a place full of strangers in another country? I have enough social barriers as it is.” He took Atsumu’s hand in his and gave each of the knuckles a kiss. “Maybe I don’t tell you that enough but I like what we have. And it’s not as if I’m settling for less. We make a strong team. And there’s no one else I’d rather have as a setter.”

Atsumu took a second to look deep into his boyfriend’s eyes, seeing there was no trace of uncertainty.

“Okay, loverboy.” Kiyoomi scowled at the nickname, making Atsumu chuckle. He loved how the spiker was simple in his honesty, rarely leaving space for confusion. It made something in his chest grow warmer every time they let themselves get vulnerable. “But if one day there’s a call…” He nipped at the skin of Kiyoomi’s shoulder, his voice getting muffled by the soft skin. “And ya change your mind… Then I want us to revisit this conversation.”

“I won’t change my mind. But if there’s a call, then we’ll talk and we’ll make that decision together.” Kiyoomi grabbed him by the chin so he could leave a delicate kiss on Atsumu’s cheek. “ How does that sound?”

“I’d like that, making decisions together,” Atsumu whispered, a small smile appearing on his face. He wouldn’t ever admit it, but he was thankful for the reassurement. He looked into the onyx eyes, wondering how everyone could be blind to their expressiveness when they were so deeply filled with affection. “Ya know, yer the one I wanna lead my life with.”

“Is that your way of proposing?” A teasing smirk made its way onto Kiyoomi’s face.

“Oh my God, no!” Atsumu nearly yelled, his cheeks turning maroon. “Wait… Would ya actually say yes?” He wasn’t opposed to that thought. Not at all. But he felt that the right time and place were yet to come.

“You wouldn’t let me live if I answered that question right now.” Kiyoomi’s smile grew even wider as he stood up, leaving the sheet he used to cover his body forgotten on their bed.

“God, I love ya so fuckin’ much.” Atsumu chuckled.

“Well, you’re lucky that I love you too.” Kiyoomi left a quick peck on his lips. “Can we finally go shower?”

“Sure, Omi. I’ve kept you long enough.” With a big smile on his face, he joined his boyfriend behind the bathroom door.

Happy birthday, Kiyoomi

#haikyuu!!#sakuatsu #skts #sakuatsu fic #dividers by @/cafekitsune #haikyuu fic #ficlet #drabble #sakusa kiyoomi #atsumu miya

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heich0e · 2 years

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'don't bully me i'll cum :(' shirt bf: osamu

'bully me i'll cum :)' shirt bf: atsumu

#the true miya divide

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fyoiz · 2 years

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DIVIDERS ! ! !

#dividers #simbolos aesthetic #aesthetic symbols #miya sk8 #hello kitty

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umhiimv · 11 months

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my miya divide is that osamu ends up being taller than atsumu by two inches, and it bugs atsumu to no end.

#haikyuu!!#miya twins #miya atsumu #miya osamu #this is the miya divide

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eastasiansonwesternscreen · 2 years

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Ken Jeong Drama ‘Great Divide’ Tackles Anti-Asian Racism Of Covid Era

Great Divide, which explores the wave of anti-Asian racism that sprang up in the wake of Covid, has wrapped principal photography on location in Jackson, WY.

The film, about a Korean American family that leaves the Bay Area for the rural expanses of Wyoming in the early days of lockdown, features Emerson Min as Benjamin Lee, a young boy struggling with the trauma of loss during the pandemic.

Ken Jeong and Jae Suh Park play Isaac and Jenna Lee, Benjamin’s parents, each of whom has a different agendas for their move to Wyoming — Isaac has a new job, Jenna wants to ensure that Benjamin gets into the college of her choice. MeeWha Alana Lee plays Grandma Shim, Jenna’s mother, who has an important lesson to impart to her beloved grandson and a lifetime of memories to share with him before it’s too late. Miya Cech is Ellie Licht, Benjamin’s best friend and maybe more, a Chinese adoptee whose protective parents have shielded her from the darker sides of the world.

Meanwhile, the less-than-welcoming residents of small-town Wyoming include West Mulholland as Hunter Drake, a young potential classmate of Benjamin’s who begins as a bully but ends up warming to Benjamin and Ellie. Seamus Dever plays Ranger Tom Drake, Hunter’s brutal father, who plots with Wyatt (Marshall Allman) to drive the Lees out of town. And Jamie McShane is George McNather, the last surviving descendant of the town’s founding family, a generous benefactor to “his” people and a deeply suspicious and hostile nemesis to those from the “outside.”

(via Deadline)

#great divide #ken jeong #jae suh park #meewha alana lee #miya cech #film #news #media representation #representation in media #article #anti asian racism

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rickchung · 3 months

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A Great Divide (dir. Jean Shim) x VAFF 2023.

[It] tells its all-American tale through generational immigrant sacrifice.[...] The script weaves in parallels of Korean history compared to contemporary issues of national division and distrust through the lens of pandemic trauma.

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noosayog · 6 months

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002 get him back!

✧ wc: 4k

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

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

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

“Well you dated me didn’t you?!”

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

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

–

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

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

“True. But he is an idiot.”

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, found a guy to take you out?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now yer turn. What was that about?”

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

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

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

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

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

“‘Samu…”

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

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

–

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

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

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

And it goes on.

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

–

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

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

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

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

“Dude, nice try,” you had said.

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

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

“I’ll walk with ya.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m onto ya,” he starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?” you mumble.

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

“I don’t know… I just…”

“Are ya still in love with my brother?”

“No,” you answer honestly.

Osamu raises his brows.

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

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

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

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

“I wanna get him back,” you admit.

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

You hear the disappointment heavy in his intonation.

“Osamu…”

“Am I wrong?”

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

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

His question goes unanswered.

–

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

It doesn’t make you miss him any less.

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

The realization only made you feel worse about yourself.

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

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

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

“Hey, what’cha doing here so late?”

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

“Uh,” you stutter.

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

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

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

“Just wait a minute, okay-”

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

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

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

You instantly feel the panic rise in your system.

“Atsumu,” Osamu begins in a warning tone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, ‘Samu!”

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

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

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

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

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

“You just…?” he prompts.

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

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

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

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

“Missed you,” you whisper.

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

“And I like you so much, Osamu.”

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

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

He stops stroking your hair.

“What, ya don’t like it?”

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

He’s teasing, you realize.

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

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

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

You nod shyly.

“I need to hear it, sweetheart.”

“I want it.”

“Alright. C’mere then.”

You oblige.

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

He’s nonchalant when he shrugs.

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

2K notes · View notes

sluttsumu · 5 months

Text

DOUBLE TROUBLE

.ೃ࿐ feat. atsumu + osamu miya

in which: the twins have a little bet, and you’re their next target. who can make you cum the most on halloween night without anyone knowing, keep quiet virgin or you’ll get caught.

warning: 18+, college!au, fratboy!inarizaki, oblivious!reader, non+ dubcon/peer pressure, threesome, corruptive thoughts, misogyny (?), manipulation, drugs (molly), vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected, petname: angel, oral (f!receiving + m!receiving), virginity loss, exhibitionism + voyeurism, implied orgy (with suna), sunaosa TEASE, they’re sleazy hoes. wc: 2k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this is fic was supposed to kickstart my kinktober series. i hope you love this as much as i do because i had the best time writing it! in my mind it’s still october 😭 divider: @cafekitsune

two devils, one angel, and fate. being a virgin sacrifice wasn’t necessarily on your halloween bucket list for this year.

— ♡︎ —

“can’t think of anyone to bring ‘samu ?” atsumu piqued, osamu is supposed to be the smart one.

the infamous twins had been thinking for some time on who to invite to their annual halloween party.

there were plenty of guests, but they needed someone special for the night.

atsumu’s fucked half of the bimbos from his fan club, meanwhile osamu was never satisfied with any of his groupies.

“well,” he starts. “i have an idea.” the light bulb in his head flickered before finally going off when he thought of the perfect girl. the dainty little college freshman whom he sees walking around campus all dolled up.

“who’s that girl that we always see with sunarin?” he ponders, in attempt to remember your name. atsumu’s eyes lit up when he realized. he knew exactly who his brother was talking about.

osamu really was a genius.

“y/n..” his tone was unsure, but curious nonetheless. osamu shot a finger gun “bingo.” indicating that his atsumu was right on the money. they paused, staring at one another as if they were reading each others minds. twin telepathy surely was a blessing. if they were both thinking correctly it seems like they’ve got a target.

*incoming facetime from; suna rintaro*

“yes suna?” you answer holding the phone above your face. “what’re you doing tomorrow?” the abrupt question never threw you off anymore, it was common for suna taking you on all kinda of spontaneous adventures on and off campus.

“ ‘m not doing anything, gonna watch horror movies and eat candy.” suna eyed you feigning disgust, what lame plans. “absolutely not..” he scoffs, “the twins invited you to their party tomorrow and you’re going.” the miya twins were mutual friends and have been known to throw some awesome ragers from time to time, how could you decline such an offer?

“i don’t have a costume???” honestly you were trying to find any excuse possible to lessen your chances of coming home wasted on halloween night. but suna had a solution to everything, even this. “wear white, i’ll sort out the rest.” he hung up after the condescending message, leaving you to piece together his surprise.

white, the colour of purity and innocence. nothing is innocent about a college party, especially because,

halloween was the one night a year a girl could dress like a total slut, and no one could say anything about it.

a firm knock was set on your dorm room door. “let’s go” his eyes fixated as you opened the door. suna mildly regrets not taking up the twins’ offer to join them on their escapade tonight, especially with the way that dress hugs your body. he quickly releases himself from the dirty thoughts.

“okay, what’s my costume? you said wear white.” suna’s hand rises from his side revealing a halo. makes sense why he told you to wear white now. it wasn’t until you took in his costume that really made you understand his choice.

he’s dressed in a red button up, except the buttons weren’t being used at all. the devil horns stuck in his hair confirmed the unoriginal costume idea. a few days back he mentioned matching costumes with the rest of his fraternity, and if you had to see the rest of them like this, than you were sure that attending this party was worth it.

the house was loud, as much as it was crowded, suna’s hand around your wrist is the only thing preventing you from getting caught in the ocean of people.

“sunarin! we’re over here.” pi kappa alpha (ΠΚΑ) was one of seven frats at your university, and was definitely the hottest. pretty, rich boys with the world at their disposal. everyone knew this but that never stopped girls from clinging onto them, after all osamu’s arms and atsumu’s abs— focus!

“ah, you made it.” osamu exclaimed opening his arms for a particularly tight hug. you hugged all of them, each cologne scent different from the last. “mind if we steal rin for a minute? won’t be long, promise.” atsumu’s tone of voice couldn’t have been more condescending, talking to you so sweet and saccharin. you nodded, shooting the quintet a small smile, before going to find a drink.

“an angel, cute.” atsumu watched your back was you walked away into a crowd of people. all that clouded his thoughts were all the things he wanted to do to you throughout the night. “get yer head intha game. what are the rules?” osamu chuckled, it was no doubt that he was having the same thoughts as his brother. that’s for sure.

“ ‘ts 10:30, whoever can make her cum the most before midnight first wins. unless you fuck her that is.. she’s a virgin so if you manage to to take her virginity you automatically win. get caught and you have to restart.” the night is young and the rules were set, but there was one question unanswered, whats the prize for a game such as this?

money of course. sex and money have been interchangeable for as long as mankind can remember, no difference here. a thousand dollars put up by each member, totalling to five thousand. winner takes all, loser gets nothing. may the best twin win.

atsumu wasted no time following you to the kitchen hearing the laughs from his friends behind. unfortunate for him bokuto caught your attention a little too quickly. he watched the two of you laugh and introduce yourselves to one another. it wouldn’t go on for much longer, not if atsumu could help it.

“bo-kun! do me a favor would’ya?” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “get some more ice for the cooler, ‘ts intha basement.”

in boy world, this was a territorial interaction meaning; get the fuck out of here.

meanwhile in girl world, you didn’t think anything of it.

bokuto cheerfully agreed uttering “nice meeting you!” before sliding past the crowd of people to go fetch that ice.

“cute costume miya.” you look up to see him above your shoulder. he unhooks his arm from your side, leaning up against the counter. “not too bad yourself. you look,” he pauses for a mere few seconds. thoughts of you and how innocent you look plagued his mind, costume doesn’t help either. something in him was excited to taint that, you’d look so much prettier with your makeup smudged and begging him to make you cum, he thought.

“pretty,” he smiled, eyes shifting around your lips, and neck then back to your eyes. “you look really fucking pretty.”

“nights still young, you like games?” you tilted your head at the question. a suspicious question but how could anyone say no to him. “dependsss..” you drag out the word, tone laced with hesitation. this was all one big game, that you unfortunately didn’t know you were apart of, throwing another in the mix couldn’t hurt.

“how do ya feel about suck and blow?”

—♡︎—

suna forcefully offered up kita’s amex for the game, safe to say that he’s not happy about it.

the game rules were simple; suck and blow, on a card that is. pass the card mouth to mouth without dropping it. drop it and make out with the next person in front of everyone and spend an additional 10 minutes in an enclosed space. sounds easy right? it wasn’t a pi kappa alpha party without this tradition, they have a separate room dedicated for games such as these.

you watched intensely as the card made its rounds over and over you successfully received and passed it on. you were also standing between atsumu and bokuto, yikes! the card was making its way back around and like before it was just a matter of sucking and blowing, until you were locking lips with one of the hottest guys on campus. atsumu ‘dropped the card’ by accident, catalyzing the makeout sesh between the two of you.

it’s hot, it’s sloppy, it’s fucking miya atsumu.

you feel his smile on your lips as he slips his tongue in between yours, aiming for your bottom lip. the whooping, and whistling among the group was enough to encourage the egotism within you both to put on a nice show for everyone. your nails intertwining in his undercut, while his arms hug your waist.

“okay okay,” kita pushes, removing the two of you off of each other. “10 minutes, you know the drill.”

the frat brothers exchange a glance, one of many kita has shared with his little since atsumu started college.

the amount of girls that have survived that room, godspeed.

hearing the door close behind you was almost frightening, even after the spectacle you put on for everyone just now. it wasn’t until you took a few steps in you noticed this is a bedroom, not your average stuffy coat closet.

“suna teach you to kiss like that or what?” he teases, watching you stare at him in disbelief. “can’t believe he hasn’t fucked you yet.”

guess i’ll be the first, he thought.

suna? fucking you? confusion was an understatement really. unbeknownst to you they all thought you were sunas secret fuck buddy till he told them you were untouched.

atsumu almost forgot, and the realization ran through his blood with pure mischief. he was ready to get his hands on you and play with his toy of the night.

“let’s have some fun, yea?” he quips, walking towards you. “fun like what?” unintentionally you take a step back, the two of you flowing in a seamless b-line towards the bed as he goes forward and you go back.

“you’re a big girl right? in college now. ya know what big girls do?” his tone was informative signalling that there’s more to his mini monologue. “big college girls…kiss, and suck, and fuck boys.”

the smooth of your calves hit the sheets.

“a-atsumu i’m—” you’re a stuttering mess, and he finds it adorable.

“you’re what?” he mocks, lifting his voice up an octave to replicate you. it was only a matter of seconds before you were pushed onto the bed with his body caging yours beneath him.

it was all happening so fast, it’s not that you didn’t want to but this has never happened before. being stuck in a room with a guy especially an experienced one was never on you to-do list for today.

atsumu’s done this to many girls. he’s used to fucking bitches every week and you were no different. he never looses and he’s damn sure nothing will change that tonight.

“i’ve never done this before…” shame drowns your conscience as you confess what you thought was a secret. little did you know, he knew.

“s’okay,” his lips pecked against your jaw lightly, he could feel how tense you were but curious as well. “just wanna make you feel good, hmm?” you could feel atsumu’s hand creeping between your thighs though his eyes never leaving yours. this look on your face, the look of a virgin, never gets old for him.

the inquisitive look of “maybe it’s not so bad” staring back at him as he pulls your panties to the side running his fingers along your wet folds. you didn’t protest, or squirm, or defy, you just laid there beady eyes staring, legs spread for him awaiting his touch.

simultaneously, his fingers slide into you with ease while sharing a kiss to keep you quiet, earning a soft moan onto his lips. your body can’t help but concentrate at the foreign feeling of someone else other than yourself fingering you. “ahhh—! s-slow down ‘tsumu, too much!”

“no can do angel, got a lot ridin’ on ya.” completely dismissing your feelings, he continues to pump his fingers into your leaking cunt. “hurts..” you whine. “atsumu it hurts!”

“don’t lie ta me pretty, i can feel you clenching ‘round me.” your face flushed at his words, fluttering around his fingers. besides the slight discomfort it felt so fucking good, you really couldn’t get enough of it.

the humiliation you felt hearing the lewd squelching of his digits fingerfucking you was apparent. you watched in awe as he sped up, arm now jackhammering in and out of you at an ruthless pace. “fuckfuckfuck!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears.

atsumu traps your lips in a messy kiss, tasting a mixture alcohol on each others tongues. whines and whimpers escape fall from your lips onto his at the feeling of the coil in your stomach about to break. the euphoria that overcomes your body when your legs begin to tremble, thighs squeezing around his hand, your virgin cunny covers his fingers in sticky cum.

but his assault on your pussy doesn’t stop there, he’s still going; fucking you through your orgasm. “can’t stop there, you can give me another one baby, know you can.”

“no! c-can’t take it! i—” his hand quickly cups around your lips, muffling any sound that dares to come out of your mouth. time’s almost up and atsumu would throw more than a fit if he got caught and had to restart already.

he could feel it again, your pussy clenching around his fingers. atsumu continued at his gruelling pace, with a slick smile on his face. It was so cute seeing you like this, half an hour ago you walked into this party as an innocent little thing, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you — under him with his fingers buried inside of you, on your second orgasm.

“cumming… ‘m cumming—!” you mumble under the weight of his hand, eyes fluttering shut. “atta-fucking-girl angel.” your chest heaved and knees buckled while you creamed on the blondes fingers once more this time at full force, making you see stars before he pulled out of you.

“wasn’t so hard now was it?” he smiled sucking your slick off of his fingers. atsumu is now leading by two points and cocky was an understatement, he can feel himself growing hard watching your body go limp against the sheets. if he had the time, he’d take you right then and there but there was always an opportunity for that.

“make yourself decent before you come out.” was the last thing he said to you, chuckling while the door clicked shut behind him.

get yourself together! the sound of your own voice mentally cursing you was enough to spring you back to your feet, pulling your dress down, and fixing your hair. luckily for you, everyone continued their conversations, dancing, and games as you crept out the room exhaling heavily with relief.

a few eyes lingered, especially kita’s. he peered at you from afar, while atsumu whispered in his ear. he raised the red solo cup with an upward tilt of his head before smirking in your direction, taking a sip from the cup.

frat boys are just the equivalent to mean girls.

hell, it hasn’t even been five minutes and he’s already going around telling everyone. you couldn’t bare to see it really, causing you to relocate somewhere else in the house, the stairs.

you sat on the wooden steps, eyes glued onto your phone screen. the feeling of someone walking down was evident as the hardwood took a dip at the weight, it was osamu.

he pondered, swirling the liquid courage in his hand. how could he get you on his white linen sheets? he thought. osamu smirked at the idea that popped into his head soon after remembering the common denominator between his bed and that dress you’re wearing.

starring at your back from a few steps above, his eyes moveded to suna who was situated mere meters away from where you sat. he feigns tipping his cup, eyes pointing down to where you sat then back to the brunette.

it was genius, if he ruins that pretty little dress of yours you’ll have no choice but to take it off.

“do it.” suna mouthed covering his words with a cupped hand.

the weight of someone walking down the stairs returns after having paused, you didn’t think much of it until alcohol poured down your shoulder and into your bra from above you.

“sorry angel! that was my bad.” osamu quips, downing the rest of his cup.

“you’ve got to be kidding me..”

“relaaax,” he drawls before reassuring that “you can come change up here.”

—♡︎—

osamu scanned his closet looking for one of his old flings’ clothes murmuring, “no-no-no-too big-too small— damn i should call her..” as he looks through the assortment of clothing.

you waited on his bed partly disgusted at the fact that these clothes were equivalent to trophies.

“check that drawer ta’ your left for something.” he gestures a waving hand, pointing to the side table next to his bed.

the drawer was less then helpful, containing: condoms, an agent provocateur set (brand new, mind you), a bottle of dior sauvage, and a miniature plastic bag with two smiley face pills in it.

he has drugs just laying in his room?

“what’re these?” prodding at the drugs you ask, dangling the bag between delicate fingers.

he turns to face you, smirking when he sees what caught your curiosity. “a pretty girl named, molly.” osamu banged a girl with that name now that he thinks about it.

“you guys seriously take these?” eyes narrowing at the tiny pill analyzing it’s appearance, but wanting to know more at the same time. “are they fun?”

osamu closes the closet door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. his attention is focused elsewhere when you display genuine interest in the party drug.

“wanna find out?” he asks with the tilt of his head.

fuck around and find out was an understatement, getting fucked after finding out was more accurate really.

“fuuuuck ‘samu..” your manicure runs through silver hair, as he messily laps at your cunt.

every flick of his tongue making your knees buckle, the pleasure was overwhelming your lower half as he teased your clit with the tip his tongue.

you couldn’t get over how good it feels, what was the point of staying a virgin when there’s men who will pleasure you like the miya twins.

“pussy tastes s’good princess.” he mumbles onto you, sending vibrations up your spine, continuing to eat you like you’re his last meal.

he could feel now eager you were to get off, grinding yourself against his face in hopes to chase the orgasmic high that your body was so close to.

the loud noises of his mouth smothered against your pussy and broken whimpers fill up the room.

loud enough for suna to hear through the bedroom door he’s standing on the other side of. he could feel his erection growing, listening to his best friend taint his virgin girl bestie on the most sinister night of the year.

“righthererighthere! ‘m cumming— oh fuck!” the euphoric feelings of the drug in your system enhanced every last nerve running through your veins.

you’re loud, high pitched whines falling from your throat as you throw your head back, eyes shutting tight.

osamu’s face pushed into your cunt with force, nose nudging at your clit. little did the two of you know, the brunette purposely walked into the room with you on the verge of a mind blowing orgasm and osamu’s mouth quite busy.

“you cumming?” suna asks, gripping your face with slender fingers.

your eyes shoot open to see one of his hands planted on the back of osamu’s head pushing his mouth deeper into your pussy, the other holding your face, taunting from above.

“oh yea, you’re fucked.” he taunts, pushing your lips into a kissy face forcefully moving your head from side to side, observing your features.

suna’s done his fair share to know you weren’t all there, your dilated pupils, flushed face and very vulnerable state gave it away.

“don’t be shy, go on. might be ‘samu going to town on ya but your attentions on me, hmm?”

seeing you tweaked out on the verge of your third orgasm of the night really did it for him.

it was torture, watching and hearing the twins have their fun with you meanwhile he had to watch.

absolutely no fair. he’s the reason you even considered coming to the party at all it wouldn’t be all that bad if he used you as a reward for his efforts, now would it?

“rin!!” you whine, “get out! this is embarrassing!”

suna doesn’t bother listening to your protest. he’s already slid his shirt off, unbuckling his belt watching osamu make you cum.

“move it.” he chuckles, tugging at grey locks.

“hey, i had her first.” osamu scoffs at his friends audacity.

“technically atsumu had her first, but it’s my turn. so, are you gonna keep bitchin’ or get your dick sucked while i fuck her?”

the two boys spoke as of you weren’t even there, like you were just an object for them to play with. this wasn’t about the bet anymore. this was about you, and the fact that they’d never get the opportunity to see your tweaked out, legs spread, off molly ever again.

a once in a lifetime opportunity with you in a position to not protest.

suna’s shadow hovered over you, manipulating your body to fit both of them on osamu’s mattress.

hazy eyes stared into his green ones with incoherent mumbles falling from your lips. seeing you fucked out made him want it that much more.

“hang in there for us pretty.” his voice sounding so sincere, meanwhile rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit.

he pushes into you without warning, stretching your cunt around his girth.

“shit..” he hisses through his teeth. “definitely a virgin, fuck.”

“ah—!” your hand flies to his chest in attempt to get him to slow down. “s’too much..”

“none of that,” osamu coos, grabbing your wrist.

you didn’t even notice that he slid his boxers off, smearing precum on your lips like lipgloss.

“hey ‘samu where’s the—” atsumu says, swinging the door open to the lewdest live scene he’s ever seen. “holy hell.”

“are you gonna stare or join?”

sluttsumu 2023

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