attention
Miya Osamu x Reader
desc: you’re spending too much time fawning over a very fictional captain Levi and not enough time doting on your real boyfriend, Osamu.
a/n: @starrysamu dearest remy, this is for you. i only just found out that it’s your birthday and i felt like i needed to show my appreciation for you in a tangible way. this isn’t the best, but i laughed a lot while writing it, so i hope it’ll make you smile. so much love to you and happiest of birthdays!! you’re such a joy to speak with <33
warnings: mentions attack on titan (fictional deaths), language, suggestive towards the end
wc: 1.5k
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“I bet you haven’t moved in hours.”
“Mm,” you hum absentmindedly.
Osamu stays silent for a moment, squinting judgmentally at you from the corner of the living room. He’s been standing there for ten minutes and you’ve not so much as acknowledged his existence. Granted, you already spent the entire morning with him, but you could at least greet him with your usual, “hey, babe.”
He’d even settle for a “what’s up, ugly” at this point.
However, your eyes are glued to the TV screen. Blue light and flashing colors reflect off of your skin while the blood-curdling screams of various animated characters fill the room. You gasp and a hand flies to your mouth. That’s the fourth time you’ve done that since he’d walked in the room.
Whatever it is you’re watching, your reaction seems reasonable. The show looks and sounds disgusting. Or at least to Osamu it does.
“You really should move around a little.” He coaxes, “You’re gonna cut off all your circulation.”
Osamu approaches the couch, but you continue to ignore him.
“Yeah, and?” you respond, eyes still fixed on the screen, “I’m kinda in the middle of something.”
You reach for the remote and turn up the volume a couple of notches. His brows furrow in contempt. Now, this is just plain rude.
“Well, if you lose a limb, don’t come cryin’ to me.” He says flatly.
“I won’t…” you start, “but-“
You point to the screen, singling out a few characters being hunted by hideous and… very naked titans. Gross, Osamu thinks.
“-they might.”
If you were known to watch shows for the plot, he wouldn’t mind your series marathons all that much. But he knows you too well.
Osamu flickers his gaze to the TV and steps in front of the screen, intentionally blocking your view. It’s an attempt to steal your attention away from all of these fictional characters you claim to keep “falling in love with.”
You whine and tell him to “get his ass out of the way,” while craning around his broad shoulders to see. It’d be a shame to miss out on Levi Ackerman’s hella sculpted jawline, even just for a second.
But your efforts are to no avail. ‘Samu (his ass included) refuses to move away from the screen.
You breathe out a white flag of a sigh, slumping back into the couch in defeat. Though you’d planned on this being a solo watch party, you know that the only way to get what you want out of this situation (Levi screen time) is by appeasing your actual boyfriend.
“Whatever ‘Samu. Just join me already.” You huff out.
Tossing open your blanket for him, you pat the empty space expectantly. If you’re going to give him any attention at all, he’s obligated to at least keep you warm.
And he won’t lie, you look very comfortable.
Seeing you cozied up in his apartment and lazily splayed out on his couch has always made him melt a little. Osamu is just a bit domestic like that.
But if you’re just going to use his Netflix account to fawn over fake (albeit incredibly sexy) men, then he’s less than thrilled to have you sitting there alone. Any good boyfriend would be at least a little agitated… right?
So for the sake of reining you and your wandering mind in, he decides to plop down next to you. The whole couch sinks when he sits and you tilt into him like a planet gravitating toward the sun. A really obnoxious, show-interrupting sun.
Osamu snakes an arm around your back, pulling you into his chest, and turns his head toward the TV. All is calm as you get comfortable and adjust yourself against him... until suddenly the screen splatters red. His arm tenses against your waist and a frown forms on his face. Apparently, something or someone just bit the dust.
“What exactly are ya watchin’?” He asks, tone drenched in disgust.
You whip your head toward him, an eyebrow cocked and lips parted. You’re looking at him as though he’d just gone and grown a third eye or called your mom a hoe. In terms of drama, Osamu is beginning to think you might actually rival Atsumu.
“You seriously don’t know?”
“Do I look like someone who keeps up with anime?”
“Well… no,” you admit slowly, “but that’s got nothing to do with you not knowing about Attack on Titan. I bet even Kita has heard of it.”
You wait for recognition to flicker in his grey eyes at the mention of the anime’s name. Instead, he gives you his signature blank stare. Should you be shocked or disappointed? Which emotion would bother him more?
“Yeah, it doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Have you been living under a rock?” You scoff, mouth still agape.
“No, but I basically live with you and that’s difficult enough.” He jests, poking you in the side.
His warm hands gives you a quick squeeze and you almost jump out of his hold. For someone who runs a restaurant, he’s got some well-toned arms. It’s unlikely you’ll be able to escape his grasp anytime soon.
“No! None of that shit!” You hiss as he tries to tickle you. “You’re just trying to distract me.”
Your back curls like a cat and you bat at his hands to abate any further pokes or prods. He only chuckles, smirking at your feeble attempts to stop him. You were the one provoking him in the first place, but he’ll let it slide just this once.
When Osamu no longer seems like a threat to your ticklish sides, you nestle back into him. Your hand rests lightly on his chest and your head finds a soft-ish spot on his shoulder.
Feigning a pout, you mutter, “Captain Levi wouldn’t treat me like this.”
He’s quick to respond.
“Well, Levi-” the name sounds uncharacteristically bitter as it leaves his lips, “-wouldn’t treat you like anything, sweetheart. Sorry, but he ain’t real.”
You open your mouth to protest, but Osamu beats you to it.
“And judging by the rate these people are dyin’, he probably won’t last long enough for you to even mentally date him.”
“Don’t underestimate me and my mental dating abilities, ‘Samu.” You warn, “Or Levi. He could totally beat your ass.”
With perfect timing, Levi makes an appearance, striking a lethal blow to another one of the babbling giants. Two giants. Now four of them. Okay, he might’ve spoken too soon.
“Mm… maybe. But he probably couldn’t put up with all of your bullshit. This Levi kid seems like a bit of a hardass,” Osamu responds after a few minutes of transfixed silence.
You jut your lip out, sinking further into the couch, “Crush my dreams, why don’t you?”
He rolls his eyes in response.
“But,” you continue, “you’ve gotta admit, he is attractive. I mean, just look at those eyes. That body, too…” you breathe.
You swoon and tease and clutch at your heart, but it’s all an act to get under ‘Samu’s skin. He is your number one, after all. Teasing is just a part of your relationship and you would try to milk it whenever you could.
However, you don’t get a verbal response from him this time. He just tightens his hold around you and buries his nose in your hair. Warm breath tickles your scalp and trails across your skin.
Is he pouting? Or is he finally watching the show without adding commentary to it? You can’t tell the difference.
Osamu stays like that for a moment and you revert your attention back to the screen, intent on catching the last couple minutes of this episode.
Though you hardly have a chance to re-invest yourself before Osamu is speaking again.
“Well, I’m just glad he’s behind a TV screen,” he sighs against your head, “and-”
A smirk works its way onto his lips and Osamu begins circling a thumb on your exposed thigh. Your breath hitches and you turn to face him. His fingers press against your skin and play at the hem of your shorts.
The warmth of his hand sinks deeply into you like poison. In a matter of seconds, you’re at a loss for words, rendered unfit for battle… even if that battle is just teasing the ever-living shit out of him.
Thoughts of the show, of Levi, of other fictional men, are long gone from your mind.
Damn him for still having this effect on you after all this time.
“-judging by the way you can’t keep your hands off of me-“
He glances at your hand, which is resting delicately on his abdomen. You’re pressed up tightly against him, tucked into his side and looking up at his face which seems dangerously close to your own. Then his eyes, heavy-lidded and a shade of grey far prettier than Levi’s, flicker down to your lips.
Your skin flushes hot and you grip the fabric of his shirt.
“-I’d say you’ve gotta be at least half as into me as you’re into general Levi or whatever the hell his name is,” Osamu murmurs, his breath fanning gently on your lips.
He leans in, planting a slow kiss at the corner of your mouth, effectively teasing the delicate skin.
With one calloused hand on your face and the other still stroking your thigh, you feel your mind going fuzzy. This was escalating much faster than you’d expected it to and you haven’t even had the chance to pause your show.
You glance over to the TV... and heaven seems to be shining down upon you. It’s the blessed Netflix “are you still watching” screen; your show is perfectly paused. Now you can focus on what’s right in front of you.
Osamu finally has your full, undivided attention. Just as he should.
“Just for the record, it’s captain Levi.” You whisper to him.
“Oh, shut up.” He says before crashing his lips into yours.
You do, in fact, shut up.
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