Tumgik
#osamu miya x you
noosayog · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
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
Tumblr media
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
kairiscorner · 5 months
Note
Hiii can I request prompt 59 with osamu!
"ah, sorry, i... oh, your hand's really soft."
OFC DEAR SKSMJDKDKSJSISKDKEK i wanna eat him he's such a LOVER BOY but is very lowkey about it, so SHY AND ADORABLE I EKDKSJKWNSIEKEJEKEK
"your hands are so... warm."
Tumblr media
a long day of volleyball practice and studying prompted you to ask osamu if he wanted to go get some soda with you at the nearest convenience store. he agreed, not that he had any reason to disagree, since you were only the cutest and sweetest person he has ever had the pleasure of meeting.
you two entered the convenience store, and like an obedient little puppy��or fox, rather–he quietly walked with you along the aisles of the store, listening to you as you spoke, nodding and shaking his head all sleepily, looking over at you with half-lidded eyes that were full of subtle adoration and love for you.
you spoke to him all about what happened today, about all the little things and the bouts of excitement and disappointment all throughout your day; it was the highlight of osamu's day to hear all about yours, really–and hopefully he wouldn't sound creepy if he were to admit that he gets a little sluggish when he doesn't get to see or hear from you at all from the day.
"hey, wanna try this one?" you ask him as he moves closer to you, looking over your shoulder to get a better look at the drink. "oh, as long as it isn't too sweet or strong, i'll take it." he said as you smiled. you two exited the convenience store and sat down at a nearby bench, just relaxing after a long day of work, studies, and practice. you rummaged in the bag, and you pulled out the drink you introduced him to. "here ya go, samu." you said as you handed him the drink, with osamu thanking you in a small mutter as he reached for it.
there was a split second when his whole body jolted up and froze–and it was in the very instance that his fingers were wrapped around yours. you didn't flinch, you found nothing wrong with the way he was holding your hand, you felt a little warmed up at the feeling, really. osamu blushes a bright pink when he realized just what the soft, gentle feeling was underneath his fingers was, and he tried pulling away, but his mouth ran quicker than his hand and his mind, and he blurted out:
"ah, sorry, i... oh, your hand's really soft..."
"you... really think so?"
"i-i mean... you feel... just right, i mean...!" he blurted out again, trying to cover up his embarrassing confession, merely blushing even worse while you stifled a giggle and smiled right up at the flustered, pink mess of the boy that he was. he could be serious, calm, and deadpanned at times–but around you, his one and only weakness, the only person who can pull him to be more expressive, emotional, and fired up at times–he can be a shy, cute little lover boy. and he doesn't mind getting used to being rattled by how much you make him melt, he adores being made into an embarrassed puddle of adoration and devotion to you, always.
421 notes · View notes
forusomimiya · 1 year
Text
A sexual fantasy is to imagine that Osamu, with his strong, sturdy arms, with prominent veins and bulky muscles, would lift you up to his mouth to lick your pussy before grab you under your thighs and ram you against the first wall he finds.
Now imagine that but with osamu wearing compression sleeves.
1K notes · View notes
alaboadoa · 8 months
Text
my brother's best friend
pair. miya osamu x gn!reader
content: fluff, attempts at humour, miya atsumu is a little shit, first loves, mutual pining
synopsis. miya osamu takes pride in the fact that he’s the smarter of the twins. he, in fact, is not (especially when it comes to you).
wc. 3.1k
a/n: om nom nom nom nom brother's best friend trope nom nom nom... ok i have to come clean about this fic i literally wrote the first draft for this in 2021 on WATTPAD and it's been sitting dormant forever up until recently. enjoy 🫶
Tumblr media
‎oh my god, how did i end up here?
it’s the only thought repeating over and over again in osamu’s head as he sits there staring at you. you’re too preoccupied with the menu in your hands to notice his unwavering gaze, scanning through it and muttering to yourself indecisively about what to order.
of course, the question of how he ended up here on a date with you could be summarized in one simple sentence:
miya atsumu is the world’s biggest idiot.
if kita or aran were here they would surely be poking fun at him right now, lecturing him about how his dna is a perfect carbon copy of atsumu’s. and while they would be right, osamu is convinced his brother has at least 70% less brain cell capacity.
the thought makes him feel a little smug. (he’s in the class under atsumu.)
you were friends. at least as far as how often you saw each other, he considered you good friends. maybe. not that he knew all that much about you other than the fact that you were constantly... around. if he didn’t know that atsumu was the biggest knucklehead on planet earth, he would have assumed you were dating. but he knew his brother was too invested in volleyball to be seeing anyone seriously, and you didn’t didn’t seem like the type to mess around with guys like him anyways.
you were way too level-headed for that despite the raunchy, head-turning jokes you liked to tell, which honestly might be the reason why atsumu keeps you around.
whenever you came to their house, you would stick to lounging in atsumu’s room or the living room. you typically avoided disturbing osamu and the rest of their family — not like they minded having you around. no, in fact, their mother had a strange soft spot for you. you were quiet and well mannered, until it was just the three of you and suddenly an onslaught of fierce attacks on poor atsumu would commence.
for the majority of your friendship, you have stayed out of his way and he stays out of yours. you only talk to each other when deemed necessary, like when walking home from school or when you shyly greet him at the door because atsumu is on the toilet. he does, however, rejoice in the fact that there is another person on the atsumu hate train, and appreciates that you’re at least colourful with your insults. it’s impressive, really.
(he would never admit it. never. never ever. but it warms his heart a little that there’s someone out there just like him, expressing their love for miya atsumu in less conventional ways.)
you were quick witted and funny. a free source of entertainment when he would grow bored of his brother’s shenanigans. and it was a two way street, because when you needed a break from atsumu, osamu was always right there. 
you were noticeably gentler with the younger of the miya twins: asking him how school was, and if he needed help with his chemistry homework, and what he had for lunch. menial little things, but sometimes he found himself thinking that it was the highlight of his day.
otherwise, your presence in his life is, as osamu considers it, indifferent.
sure, he likes to look at you. and sometimes, maybe, he wishes you and atsumu would invite him around more often. it also doesn’t help his heart when you’re so nice to him, like when you’re all having dinner together and you pretend you don’t want the last dumpling on your plate and shovel it onto his. he likes that. or when you invite yourself into their freezer for ice cream, you always make sure to grab an extra one for him. there have been multiple occasions in which you’ve wordlessly slid him your notes to copy, too.
you were good at that; knowing what others wanted and being more selfless than the average person. you’re a people pleaser, and though he and atsumu used to make fun of your type when they were kids, your charm is undeniable.
unfortunately, actually making any sort of move on you is out of the question. not only would it potentially complicate things between you and him, it would also risk putting a strain on your friendship with atsumu. making his brother’s life a living hell is what miya osamu was born into this world to do, but for some reason his stomach turns at the thought of ruining your friendship.
you were just atsumu’s cute best friend. nothing less, nothing more. and he would very much like to beat the “i fell in love with my brother’s best friend” allegations, thank you.
he realizes he’s still looking at you intently with his arms crossed over his chest. he watches as your nose scrunches a little in thought, trying to decide between their two best sellers. he sighs in relief when you get up to order for yourself, tucking a stray hair under his cap before going back to sulking with his thoughts.
atsumu had a lot of bad ideas. so many that if they sat down and listed them all out they might be there for a couple days. but this? this is his worst one yet. and how osamu managed to get roped (bribed) into this, he will never know. but here he is, and here you are, and here atsumu is not.
he really should get better at saying no to atsumu.
(“c’mon, ‘samu! please? for me?!”
“what the hell? no. that’s a shitty thing to do. just tell them ya can’t go.”
“but it’s their birthday! they were lookin’ forward to this. they’ll hate me forever if i bailed!”
“and? why would i help you? ‘specially with somethin’ so stupid. it’s your fault you didn’t plan better.”
“don’t be like that, y’know it was a last minute thing!”
a beat of silence.
“pretty please? it’s their birthday… you guys are friends too, right?”
osamu can’t believe he’s entertaining this stupid idea for even a second. you’re not an idiot. you’d know it’s him with a single glance.
“this is an all time low, even for you. they’ll notice it’s me right away. are ya crazy, ‘tsumu? hit your head or somethin’?”
“it’s just this one time! i’ll never ask ya for anythin’ ever again. never ever ever ever, i swear it.”
“...’tsumu…”
“don’t sound so tired with me! do this for your big brother. have i mentioned it’s their birthday?”
big brother? osamu scoffs loudly.
“you actually mentioned it three times. and yer only a couple minutes older than me. but... fine.”
“don’t be such a jacka- wait, what?”
“i said fine. but you owe me lunch for the next two weeks.”
“deal!”
“... are ya sure they won’t know it’s me? i mean, i really think you should reconsider-”
“oh shut up, ‘samu, we’re identical!”
“just know that i won’t hesitate to throw ya under the bus if shit hits the fan.”)
what a terrible plan. pretending to be atsumu was proving to be harder than he initially anticipated. he would have thought that spending every agonizing, waking, living hour with his brother would have trained him well enough, but atsumu is so no-chill that it’s somehow making this already horrible idea even worse with every passing second.
surprisingly, you haven’t said anything. you haven’t acknowledged the massive elephant in the room. this could only mean one of three things:
1. you’ve noticed, but you’re desperately trying to spare atsumu’s feelings and osamu’s embarrassment by not bringing it up.
2. you’re dumber than he thought. dumber than a rock, actually, if you didn’t take one look at osamu and know it was him.
3. you are a cruel, wicked, evil, deranged human being who finds osamu’s situation entirely hilarious and wants this to go on for as long as possible.
judging by your casual banter, he’s willing to bet it’s either option one or two. you’re twirling a lanyard around your finger when you finally return with your drink of choice in tow. next destination: the local aquarium. atsumu put a surprising amount of effort into planning the day.
it’s a shame he hadn’t accounted for planning himself into it.
Tumblr media
‎he shouldn’t have agreed to come here.
spending time alone with you like this was bound to stir up feelings he’d long ago buried in the hollows of his heart. of the miya twins, osamu was always better at keeping his emotions under wraps. there were rare occasions in which he lost his cool, in which he was actually somehow worse than atsumu, but in general he was as level-headed as you were.
you’re ruining him and his plans to never acknowledge his feelings for you.
it’s unfair, really, how his heart seemingly gets lodged in his throat when you cling to his arm so tightly, laughing and pointing out all the funny-looking fish. and when you point at something called a vampire squid, raving about how long it took you to find one in animal crossing, he nearly crumbles to his knees and puts his head in his hands.
(in other words, he’s totally whipped. he’s not beating those allegations.)
osamu thought he could get used to looking at anyone’s face. he always found people boring — he grew up being the other half of his brother, after all. the miya twins are many things, but boring is not one of them, and to entertain them you have to be someone with a special brand of humour.
but now, as he looks at you with the soft blue glow from the tank shining against your face, he can’t help the thought that crosses his mind:
i could never get tired of this.
“... hailing from the depths of tropical and subtropical waters, the vampire squid feeds on marine snow.”
he blinks back into reality, eyes drifting from you to the sea creature you’re admiring, then back to you. “marine snow? sounds gross.”
“it’s the debris that falls to the lower levels of the ocean. lots of deep sea creatures feed that way since it saves them the energy of needing to go hunt.”
osamu seems skeptical. “they really just eat anythin’ like that?”
your head turns to look at him. there’s a little smile playing on your face, like you seem amused by what he just said. “sounds like someone i know.”
he makes a strange expression in response. were you talking about him? did you often bring him up when you were alone with atsumu? the soft and fond look in your eyes doesn’t help his racing heart. the idea that you and atsumu talk about him in private so sweetly makes his face burn slightly in embarrassment.
he shakes his head to get the thought out of his brain before stuffing his hands into his pockets.
your arm finds his again, locking together. it’s an oddly intimate action, even if you think he really is atsumu. he doesn’t know you to be the most touchy person on earth, though he supposes he can’t see what you’re like behind the closed doors of his brother’s bedroom. his blood boils for some reason.
you stop at the next tank, the one situated in the centre of the room filled high with kelp and schools of tiny fish. you’re looking at them with wide eyes, light shimmering in them. he could cry right now. you look like an angel bathed in the shadows of dancing fish as your gaze carefully follows a school circling around the top of the aquarium.
there’s a feeling swimming inside of him, unfamiliar and oh so dreadful. he can feel it in raging in every part of him — in his heart, in the fiery pits of his stomach, in his throat — and he knows exactly which word comes to mind.
miya osamu may be in the lowest class in his year, and he might share a single brain cell with his brother, but he’s read enough books to describe this feeling. he’s listened to enough love songs to know this ache in him.
if you asked him ten years from now, he’d tell you exactly the same thing as he would right now; that your first love is always petrifying.
“pretty, aren’t they?”
“yeah. real pretty.”
but he hasn’t looked at them even once. how could he when there’s a living, breathing angel standing next to him?
Tumblr media
‎osamu delivers you to your doorstep that night.
it feels like a dream, the whole day and having the privilege of holding your hand and feeling your body against his.
maybe it was just the greedy monster in him speaking. the laws of the universe dictate that if it’s you and osamu, atsumu needs to be there, too. the miya twins have always come in a package. a duo. there is no just atsumu or just osamu, at least there wasn’t until you came along.
suddenly it was you and atsumu. it was atsumu and osamu, and you. but there was never just you and osamu. it didn’t work that way.
well, screw the universe and its laws. osamu never believed in that astrology shit anyways.
he’s fully prepared to keep this day an untarnished memory — something to cherish when life goes back to normal and he’s unable to stand shoulder to shoulder like this with you again.
when you lean in to kiss him, there is only one thought repeating in his mind like a mantra:
it’s just once. just one day. one last perfect memory.
you’re so close that he can feel your breath filling his lungs. his heart hammers where it rests in his chest, so loud that he can hear it thundering in his ears. it’s then that he realizes this is wrong. all of it is wrong.
he recoils back with lightning speed, and his heart aches at the sight of your disappointed and puzzled expression. but it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to atsumu either.
he cares about both of you too much to be selfish right now.
how could he possibly risk hurting two of the people he cared most about in the world? he couldn’t be that self-centred, to be able to steal a kiss from you just to keep his memories of this day perfect.
perfect doesn’t exist if none of it is real.
“i’m not… i’m not who you think i am.”
he slides the hat off his head with shame burning in his cheeks, avoiding your eyes like a child who got caught with his hand in a cookie jar. it was time for him to be honest, both with you and himself.
“look, yer really cool. and i– crap, it’s complicated, ‘kay? i might like you. like– like you, like you. i wasn’t thinkin’ straight. 'm really sorry, i know it was wrong to string you along, i was just havin’ so much fun today that–”
his mouth suddenly comes to a halt as you reach forward and capture his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them together so he’ll stop rambling.
you look at him with a confused but amused smile. “um, ‘samu? i like you, too.”
“what?” he sputters out as much as he can with his face still held in place. his brows furrow, but all rational thoughts have stopped flowing in his mind. he’s staring at you like a flabbergasted idiot, so you continue.
“why else would i agree to go on a date with you on my birthday?”
“but– i– huh?”
your head tilts. “this was a date, wasn’t it?”
it dawns on him then. it had never occurred to osamu that there was another explanation for your strange lack of acknowledgment that he is painfully easy to see through:
4. you like him and simply thought this was a date. you like him as much as he likes you, which is a stupid amount. after all, he likes you enough to go through with an infinite number of atsumu’s terrible ideas just to make you happy.
of course you weren’t that dense. of course he was found out the second you laid eyes on him. of course he had misread the entire situation because he was blinded by his brother’s boisterous claims that they were indistinguishable.
“this is ridiculous. i can’t believe you–… atsumu somehow always pulls through even when he doesn’t mean to.”
“what do you mean?”
“whadd’ya mean, what do i mean?”
“about atsumu?”
“oh, he was freakin’ out about missin’ today and wanted me to go through this whole thing pretendin' i’m him so ya wouldn’t be mad at him.”
“but he already told me he couldn’t make it today? you really didn’t have to do… all this,” you gesture to his whole body with a flick of your wrist.
at your words osamu finally crumbles to his knees in pure agony. he looks up to the sky, to whatever god has forsaken him by making atsumu his other half, and sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. he can just imagine the shit-eating grin his brother has right now.
“i’m…” he pauses, carefully selecting his next words, “going to smother him with a pillow.”
you blink at him for a moment before all the pieces fall into place.
all the times you’d gushed to atsumu about your massive crush on his twin and the way he’d complain to no end about neither of you making a move, forcing him to watch on with mild disgust as his best friend and brother made goo goo eyes at each other. all the times he would “forget” his shoes at the gym and need to run back to grab them, pushing you into small talk with osamu. all the times he would suffer through your teasing just to see the two of you walking side-by-side sharing proud little smiles.
atsumu’s resume looks something like this: world’s biggest idiot, volleyball player, third-wheel, and tired wingman.
you’ll have to thank him later.
“no wonder you’ve been acting so weird all day! i thought you were just one of those guys who gets nervous on first dates!” accompanied by this statement is a laugh that makes osamu weak.
he grumbles. “what’s so funny?”
“say what you want, but you’re as dumb as ‘tsumu.”
“no… please… don’t compare me to that nitwit… i might have a heart attack at this rate.”
you snicker quietly as you help osamu back onto his feet, eyes shimmering with joy as you let his confession sink in.
“you’re right, he is an idiot.”
“dumbass.”
“moron.”
“he’s gonna hate us even more from now on,” osamu smiles uncontrollably, inching closer to you again.
“yeah?” your lips brush against his daringly, “i can live with that.”
Tumblr media
EXTRA:
Tumblr media
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
🏷️ @hyomagiri (im dead like actually dead)
616 notes · View notes
Osamu would Probably enter into a Marriage Pact
Tumblr media
Miya Osamu would deadass be the guy that agrees to a marriage pact with his friend without thinking too much about it.
Like one day you come into the classroom and he's just chilling after morning practice, maybe eating his onigiri, and you pull up a chair and your phone because "Samu ya gotta see this!"
This being one of those articles that are a compilation of people talking about their marriage pact deals and how it's working well for them.
This guy, with a grain of rice on his cheek, will be like: "oh that's neat, wanna make one of our own?"
"Huh?"
"One of those marriage pacts yer so excited 'bout," he just looks at you with a face that you simply cannot decipher - because it's Osamu's usual face, "you and me, if we're not hitched by...say what age were they goin' for again? 30?"
"It depends, it was 35 in some of them," you fill him in.
"Nah, that's too long," he shakes his head, "if neither of us is hitched by the time we're 30, let's marry each other? Sound good?"
Sound good he says? You could only pray he'd stay single until he was 30. With how charming he was, there was no way he wouldn't be able to be married before 30. You on the other hand...yeah, you were confident in your ability to stay single.
"Ya sure about this?" You need to confirm.
"Yeah," he nods and extends a pinky out to you.
You can't help the wobbly smile as you curl your pinky around his, "sure-uh-deal."
"When we're 30, we'll be gettin' hitched," he stretches his arms, resting them behind his head and leaning back in his chair, and grinning at you.
"If we're both still single," you finish for him.
"Yeah," he hums, "now I don't gotta worry much 'bout it."
"I guess so?" You don't have much more to say, but thankfully you're saved by your teacher entering and the bell ringing, so you just take yourself to your seat, phone clutched tightly in your hand.
It sure was warm for a winter morning.
___
Tumblr MasterList
189 notes · View notes
saigethearies · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
saige’s terrortober presents…
trust me
while on an expedition into space, your budding romance with osamu came as a pleasant surprise- the murderer hiding amongst your crew, not so much.
alien!osamu miya x fem!reader
contents/warnings: murder, manipulation, and slight yandere, side character deaths, service dom!osamu, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), size kink, osamu is PACKING, praise, belly bulge, dacryphilia, use of pet names, betrayal, angst in the end, osamu still has his dyed hair but he’s in his twenties, this is basically an among us au bare with me
wc: 6.7k
18+ MINORS DNI
an: this one is posted a little late but it works out so it gets to be posted on samu’s actual bday!
“the fuck you mean you found a dead body?” terushima bites out from next to you.
your brain felt like it was lagging as panicked voices sounded off around you. there was no way one of your crewmates was dead. you’d all had multiple health screenings before getting admission into the space exploration program. no one would have gotten the green light if they were in bad health, so how could they just have died? and within the first week?
unless…
“there were multiple stab wounds,” director takeda said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible to prevent the surrounding tension from worsening. “as of right now, we can only assume it was a homicide.”
the room fell silent as everyone let the news sink in.
“ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” a voice drawls from across the circular table. “we’re stuck on this floatin’ hunk of metal and we’ve gotta damn killer on the loose?”
atsumu miya had a scowl on his face, arms crossed over his chest.
“if that’s the case then we need to start narrowing suspects down now,” oikawa followed up. “someone in this room is a murderer, unless we have a stowaway hiding somewhere.”
“security is top notch, there’s no way someone would have been able to sneak on,” kanoka rebutted.
“well then,” daishou started. “it’s time to start hearing some alibis.”
“i was doing weapons,” asahi supplied.
“i can vouch, i was in the room with him,” oikawa added, the other nodding in agreement.
one by one, all of your crewmates stated where they were, what they were doing, who they were with.
“i was in navigation with the twins trying to get the ship back on course,” suna said. “since dumb and dumber decided it would be a good idea to push a bunch of random buttons.”
“i was tryin’ t’ find the air conditionin’!”
“don’t rope me in with his bullshit,” osamu miya muttered from besides his brother.
you spared a quick glance at the grey-haired man. out of all the people on the ship, he seemed to be the one you always found your eyes wandering to.
“where were you?”
the question pulled you back into focus. you turned to see terushima staring down at you, awaiting your response.
“i was reading some samples in med bay.”
his eyes narrowed. “did anyone see you?”
you blinked. no, no one saw you, but that’s because you were the only scientist hired on with a medical background. most of your time in med bay was spent alone.
would that make you look suspicious?
you figured that honesty was the best policy, so you went ahead and told the truth.
“no, i was there alone- but no one else is ever really in there unless they need treatment or need to run an errand, if that makes any difference.”
“so what i’m hearing is that you don't have a solid alibi.”
you felt your hands start to shake. “i-i guess not…”
“let’s hear where the hell yer ass was, terushima.”
the two of you turned to see osamu’s dark grey eyes trained on the man interrogating you. the intensity in them almost sent a chill down your spine.
“ya seem desperate t’ go ahead and put blame on the lil’ lady without even giving yer own alibi yet.”
was he defending you?
terushima sent him a glare. “i was emptying the trash in storage. daishou saw me when he passed by.”
a furrow appeared on said man’s brow. “uh, hate to say it man, but i don’t remember seeing you there.”
“the hell do you mean? you literally walked right by me!”
“the only people i remember seeing before the emergency alarm sounded off was kanoka and the director in shields. i was dropping off some supplies for them.”
“you can’t be serious right now!”
“well look who doesn't have a solid alibi now,” atsumu taunted. “it seems t’ me like yer dejectin’-”
“projecting,” suna corrected.
“-projectin’ onto someone else because ya don’t wanna look guilty.”
“you’re trying to imply that i did this?” terushima shouted.
“if the shoe fits.”
“that’s enough,” director takeda declares, getting the bickering to subside before it could escalate further. “we don’t need to jump to conclusions and we don’t need to fall into hysteria, either. making a rash decision based on little evidence won’t help anything. the body was found near the reactors, so on the complete opposite side of the ship from where everyone allegedly was. Therefore, we don't really have any leads at the moment.”
“so what do we do?” asahi asked, anxiety written all over his face.
“for now, everyone just stay alert and on guard. try to stay in groups or at least pairs if you can. i don’t think the killer will lash out if more than one person is around, and if worst comes to worst, we’d at least be able to pick out who was with who. if you do notice anything suspicious about a fellow crewmate, come report to me directly. rumors will only cause trouble. understood?”
everyone gave their confirmation, you barely being able to mutter yours out.
there was really a killer amongst your ranks.
you were stuck on a ship traveling further into outer space with a murderer.
“good. meeting adjourned, everyone back to your tasks.”
you turned back towards med bay, practically moving on autopilot as your mind picked apart every piece of information you just received.
“i find it interesting that the person closest to the reactors at the time of the murder was you. that is, if your story was even true”
the voice was followed by a hand roughly grabbing onto your arm, halting your retreat. you turned to see terushima’s glare trained on you, his grip tightening. “everyone else might be letting your shitty alibi slide, but i'm not.”
“your own alibi wasn’t even solid,” you argued back, trying to wrench free from his grasp. “you don't have any right to accuse me, if anything i could be saying the same things to you right now.”
“you’re a lot more combative than you were a few minutes ago. i guess you dropped the quiet, innocent girl act now that we're not surrounded by others, right?”
you wanted to deck this guy. how dare he continue to try and accuse you of one thing after another when you haven't done anything wrong. especially after his own shaky alibi had been exposed.
“that’s not the case at all, i just don’t like to be bothered by a hypocrite!”
“i’ll show you a fucking-”
“get yer filthy hands off’a her.”
osamu was at your side before you could even register. while the expression on his face seemed blank, terushima could see the silent fire raging within his eyes, practically challenging him to try and disobey the grey-haired man’s order.
still, the shorter man made no move to release you, which prompted your unexpected savior to speak again.
“if i have t’ tell ya twice, yer not gonna like what happens next.”
with that, terushima finally released you. he scoffed before turning to storm out of the room.
you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.
“ya alright, there?”
looking up you met the dark, concerned eyes of osamu. the contact had the inside of your stomach turning into an ocean, waves swirling around within you as you held his gaze.
“i’m okay, thank you,” you said, trying to ignore the feeling of your cheeks heating up. “he seemed relentless, so i really do appreciate you stepping in.”
a smile then appeared on osamu’s face, and you wanted to burn the image into your memory forever because goodness did that man look handsome.
“it’s no worries, my ma taught me better than t’ just stand by when a lady’s ‘n trouble.”
you felt the corners of your own lips curl upwards. “well then she did a really great job.”
“how ‘bout i walk ya back to med bay,” he offered. “director said we needa stick together, wouldn’t feel right if i just let ya wander off alone.”
the waves inside your stomach felt as if they were growing to tsunami-level proportions. you had clearly noticed that osamu was a handsome man the day the crew was all introduced to each other, but you reasoned that you had a job to do on this ship so you couldn’t let yourself get distracted by what was essentially a schoolgirl crush.
now, however, the person of your attraction was guiding you through the halls with a large hand placed on the small of your back.
“i feel like we’re ‘n the start of’a nightmare,” osamu said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “can’t believe shunki got offed by someone on the damn crew.”
“yeah, it’s insane,” you replied. “i still can’t really wrap my head around it.”
“ ‘m sure that terushima jackass barkin’ atcha hasn't made it any easier for ya, huh?”
you sighed. “no, but i guess he does have somewhat of a reason. my alibi can't be corroborated by anyone. besides, nerves are running rampant right now, so i can't really blame him.”
the two of you reached med bay, osamu reaching for the handle and opening the door before you could even lift a finger. he was every bit as chivalrous as he was handsome, your knees feeling slightly weaker as he ushered you inside.
“well i think his reason for comin’ atcha was bullshit. he doesn’t have a solid story, either, so his whole outburst is rubbin’ me the wrong way. be careful ‘round him, will ya?”
the thought had crossed your mind during your earlier altercation with terushima. you knew you weren’t a killer, but him? it could be entirely plausible that a murderer had just been laying his hands on you. if osamu hadn’t come to your aid…
“i’ll try and steer clear of him,” you replied. “thank you again, osamu. i appreciate it, really.”
“of course,” he replied with a smile coming back onto his face. “and you can call me ‘samu.”
returning his kind expression, you nodded your head before turning to grab the samples you were working with earlier.
“anythin’ i can help ya with while ‘m here?”
“you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, walking me back was already sweet enough of you.”
“nah, we gotta stay ‘n pairs, remember? can’t let ya just sit here by yerself with a killer on the ship.”
by the look on his face, you could tell osamu wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so you relented by pointing to the wireless connection panel on the wall across from you.
“i think that could use some maintenance.”
_____
while very tense, the next few days were quiet. no more killings, no odd behavior from anyone- besides terushima’s rotten attitude towards you, but at this point you were just getting used to it. everyone was taking it day by day, each uneventful twenty-four hours being looked at as a win. crew morale was constantly wavering, however. it was hard to feel confident in your coworkers when one of them was secretly a murderer.
your safe haven amidst all of the suspense was osamu.
he continued to spend hours at a time with you in med bay, your once silent workplace now filled with chatter and laughter. when it came time for him to leave to go attend to other tasks, you would often tag along.
“buddy system, right?” he would say.
atsumu and suna would also occasionally find themselves keeping the two of you company in med bay. watching the three of them banter was probably the best entertainment you were going to get on the spacecraft. with the way the dark-haired man interacted with the twins you would think that they’ve all known each other for a very long time, so you were surprised to learn that they’d only just met at the start of the expedition.
“it literally reminds me of mustard,” suna remarked, earning a burst of laughter from osamu.
“shut yer trap, sunarin!”
“did you just not think to use toner?”
“there is nothin’ wrong with my hair!” atsumu defended.
the bickering had been going on for the past five minutes, suna always finding a way to goad the blonde into being his personal entertainment. he almost had a talent for being able to get under either of the twin’s skin, antagonizing them almost as much as they antagonize each other.
“if yer worried ‘bout what's wrong with ya then yer hair is the least of yer worries,” osamu piped up, earning a small giggle from you. you were too engrossed in recording your sample data to notice the content smile come onto the grey-haired man’s face at hearing your laugh.
he came up behind you, leaning down so that his head was hovering above your shoulder. “what ya got goin’ on here?”
you kept your face turned down towards your desk, not wanting him to catch onto the way your cheeks were heating up at his close proximity. “just going over the results from asahi’s blood test.”
it was no doubt to you that after spending so much time together, there was…something brewing between you and osamu. at first you figured it was just physical attraction, but the more you were around him, the more you began to realize that wasn’t the case.
you felt a comfort with the man you hadn’t felt with anyone else before- not any of your friends, not any of your exes, not even your family. there was no denying that there was a genuine connection there, and whether you were falling for him so quickly because of the circumstances or because you were truly that into him, you didn’t know.
and it didn’t really matter to you, either. every day on this spaceship could end up being your last, so you chose not to waste your time overthinking.
“need any help?”
“no, but thank you, ‘samu. you're always so considerate.”
before he could reply, kissy noises were sounding off from the other two occupants in the room. the glare osamu sent atsumu and suna would probably have most peoples’ stomachs dropping, but the two of them seemed unfazed.
it was then that a red flash illuminated the room, a harsh buzz ripping through the air.
the emergency alarm.
you dropped your pen.
“dammit!” atsumu yelled. “not another murder!”
a hand was placed on the small of your back, guiding you to stand on unsteady legs. “don’t jump t’ conclusions, we don’t know fer sure.”
“well what else would it be?” suna asked.
you began to move towards the door, osamu’s palm not leaving your body.
“i guess we should go find out,” you muttered.
the walk was silent, the once tense atmosphere of the ship now suffocating as days after days worth of anxiety had come to a crescendo. the four of you waited as the cafeteria doors slid open, revealing the rest of your crewmates gathered around the meeting table.
well, all of them except one.
not again…
once you had all gathered around, director takeda spoke the words you’d been dreading to hear since the adjournment of the last meeting.
“another body has been found.”
silence.
“oikawa and asahi found daishou in the electrical room. he wasn’t moving and they couldn’t find a pulse.”
“that’s right around the corner from where the last body was found,” kanoka observed.
“on the same side as med bay,” terushima muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.
you frowned. “can you at least wait until we get all the details before you try and start accusing me?”
“why? we’re already two men down, we can’t let this shit just slide again.”
“we won’t,” takeda firmly interjected. “there were several small bruises on daishou’s neck, so it seems that his cause of death was asphyxiation.”
“so whoever did this was able to choke a grown a man to death with their bare hands,” oikawa observed.
“wouldn’t that mean we have the culprit’s fingerprints?” you asked.
“unfortunately the perpetrator was wearing gloves.”
“damn,’ asahi sighed.
“well if they killed the poor guy with their bare hands then i really don’t think it could be the lil’ lady,” atsumu commented.
“yeah, ya really think these tiny ass fingers could choke a man?” osamu added, lifting your hand up to prove his point. your stomach fluttered when you saw how huge his looked compared to yours.
“here the two of you go fucking defending her again,” terushima barked. “she didn’t even have an alibi last time!”
“neither did you,” suna said.
“yeah, and this time all three of us were with her,” osamu motioned between him, his brother, and their friend. “so she has the damn alibi yer so bent over.”
“okay, so we know oikawa and asahi were together again, then the four of them were with each other,” kanoka listed. “i was checking oxygen levels with the director.”
all eyes turned to the remaining unnamed person.
“terushima, where were you?”
the man blinked. “i was doing weapons.”
“did anyone see you?”
“i-uh, well no, everyone was off doing other things.”
director takeda frowned. “so you have no one to confirm your whereabouts?”
“second time this happened,” oikawa commented.
the pierced man sent the brunette a glare.
“since he mentioned it already, wasn’t daishou the one who denied being able to verify terushima’s story last time? and now he’s dead, too.”
everyone went quiet at suna’s observation, terushima’s eyes widening.
“are you seriously implying that i fucking did this?”
“the evidence isn’t really pointing towards anyone else right now,” kanoka said slowly.
“what the fuck.”
“everyone else has alibis,” oikawa said, prepared to lay the facts on the table.”you’re the only one who’s been unaccounted for both times, and you have a possible motive for the most recent killing. no one else has the cards stacked against them like this.”
terushima looked around the table, everyone regarding him with a careful, withdrawn look.
“guys, come on!”
director takeda took a slow breath. “i’m sorry, terushima. but we’ve already lost two lives, and right now you’re the only suspect. we have to do what’s best for the crew.”
“fuck you,” he bit out, practically snarling. “fuck all of you! what are you gonna do now, shoot me?”
“no,” his superior said slowly.
“the ship has come equipped with a different way to handle violent members.”
_____
never in a million years would you have thought that what director takeda meant is that terushima would get ejected. thrown out into deep space to choke and freeze.
it felt so cruel and unusual. yet, your boss insisted that this was the best way to go about it. keeps the threat away without needing anyone to bloody their own hands.
you tried to take his word for it, but you still couldn’t help but feel that there had to have been a better method.
thankfully, the relief of the murder mystery being solved was enough to keep you from dwelling on it for too long. the atmosphere on the ship was light again, everyone more lively and talkative. there was still an underlying somberness held for those departed, but no more going through the day with bated breath.
well, almost.
you still couldn’t fight the feeling that something was…off.
as if your ship’s little mystery had been solved almost too easily. too conveniently.
“what’s wrong?”
osamu’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, standing at the entryway to your sleeping quarters.
“oh! hey,” you said, getting up from your desk. you had to crane your neck so much to look up at him. you tried to ignore how that fact made your heart skip.
as if he could read your thoughts, the grey-haired man brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “ya didn’t answer me.”
you gave him a small smile. “i’m okay, ‘samu, just tired.”
he frowned. “i don’t believe ya.”
a sigh escaped your lips. “i guess i’m just a little overwhelmed. i’m glad we found terushima out and all, but this whole ordeal has just felt like…a lot. and i think i've been struggling to calm down again, after things were so tense for a while.”
“i don’t like seein’ ya this worried, pretty girl like ya shouldn’t be frettin’ over a thing.”
the comment didn’t catch you completely off guard. osamu had started to become a little more flirtatious, but you always figured it wasn’t that serious. probably just a way for him to be affectionate.
as his dark eyes bore into you right now, however, you started to think that might not be the case.
“i’m okay, really.”
the hand that had brushed your hair away hadn’t left your face, thumb brushing against your cheek.
“i can see yer face lookin’ all gloomy,’ he said, moving closer to you. “c’mon, darlin’, talk to me.”
you took a deep, steadying breath. “i just want a break from all the stress.”
his hands were then roaming your back, pulling you into his chest. his lips found themselves at the shell of your ear.
“then let me take care of ya, sweetheart.”
the sexual tension building up over the past week came to boiling point when osamu’s lips slotted against yours, desire spilling over the sides and shrouding each of you in a cloud of desire. he started to press more firmly, tongue sliding in between the seam of your mouth.
he broke away from you. “ ‘s this alright?”
you nodded, eyes wide, before osamu’s lips chased after yours again, hand coming to the zipper of your pink bodysuit. he dragged it down slowly, revealing more of your skin inch by inch.
stepping out of the material, you stood before him in your matching set.
“so damn beautiful.”
you placed your hands on the back of his neck, eyes staring up at him doefully. “wanna see you too, ‘samu.”
“whatever ya want, darlin’.”
he peeled off his own bodysuit next, grey in color, and was left in just his briefs. gently leading you back towards your bed, he laid you down slowly.
kissing you once more, osamu started to move down your body, leaving little pecks against your heated skin in his wake.
“what are you doing?”
“i told ya i was gonna take care of ya, sweetheart.”
he pressed a kiss below your belly button, fingers gripping the hem of your panties. he glanced towards your face, chest tightening at the sight of your lust-blown expression, waiting for your okay. you nodded, and thus osamu peeled the lace off.
grabbing the underside of each of your thighs, he spread them open. kissing the inner part of each of them, his lips then finally descended onto your glistening cunt.
“ ‘samu,” you squeaked out.
he smirked, tongue grazing up and down your sensitive nub. the sensation had you mewling, fingers tangling into his dyed locks. your sounds made osamu smirk against you, adding two fingers into your cunt in hopes he’d hear even more.
the muscle started to move against your clit faster, mouthing against it like he was starved. another finger was then pressed into your pussy. you weren’t used to being stretched that much.
“too much,” you whined out. “ ‘s too much.”
“ya need t’ take it, sweet thing. if yer gonna take my dick later, ya need this.”
you felt your breath catch, the thought of being filled by him leading the heat in your stomach to start building.
finally hitting his fingers against that spongy spot deep within your walls, a cry ripped from you as he started to put all of his focus there. your legs were starting to shake, so osamu decided now was the time to switch up the motion of his tongue, drawing circles on your bundle of nerves.
you spasmed as your orgasm tore through you, whimpers leaving your lips as pleasure overtook every nerve within you.
osamu removed his mouth and fingers from you, inching back up your body before hovering over you.
“did so good, pretty girl, so good.”
you felt his thick fingers creep behind your back, undoing your bra. his eyes drank in the sight of your tits as he pulled the garment off of you.
kisses and bites were littered along your chest, small praises whispered between each. his lips moved back up your neck, leaving a final peck on the tip of your nose before speaking.
“ya think yer ready?”
you knew what he was talking about, nodding your head vigorously, excited to be able to feel all of him.
however, all of that excitement left your body when he finally removed his boxers.
oh…
you should have known. osamu’s whole frame was big and broad. why would his cock be any different?
god, would that even fit? none of your past boyfriends even came close to his size.
he must’ve seen your face grow pale. “what’s the matter, darlin’?”
you gulped.
“...that’s not gonna fit, ‘samu.”
“it will,” he replied, not even seeming fazed by your concern. “trust me.”
“but-”
“ya trust me, right?”
his gaze was zeroed in on yours, and you felt yourself become transfixed by just how endless it seemed, as if the space surrounding your little floating ship existed in osamu’s eyes.
“yeah, i trust you.”
another soft kiss met your lips. “good.”
his thumb was at your clit again, an attempt to distract you from the head of his cock pressing against your opening. he began to push in, a small whimper leaving your lips as you could already feel the burning stretch.
“relax, doll, ya gotta relax.”
more kisses were then peppered against your lips, silent reassurances as osamu entered into you further, each new inch making your brain feel as if it was going to explode.
“little cunt ain’t used t’ takin’ somethin’ this big, huh?”
you shook your head, confirming his suspicion as tears started to leak from your eyes.
“well, first time fer everythin’, sweetheart.”
you had no idea how he got the whole thing to fit inside of you. your pussy felt as if it was being torn apart at the seams in the best way possible, jaw going slack as he bottomed out.
“oh.”
osamu hummed. “tightest cunt i’ve ever been ‘n. yer just a dream, aintcha?”
you wanted to reply to his praise, but all that could leave you was a scream as he started to pull out and push back in. starting a steady pace, the man pulled you into a hungry kiss.
never before had you ever been so filled, moaning aimlessly into his mouth as the only thought your brain could come up with was so full, so full, so full.
he parted from your lips.
“ya feel it, darlin’?”
you didn’t have a clue what he was talking about until he thrusted back in, palm coming down against a protrusion in your tummy. the realization had more drops falling down your cheeks, babbles bubbling up your throat. he was going to rip you apart, and you were more than willing to let him.
“ ‘m gettin’ close,” he warned, forehead resting against yours. his hands then grabbed each side of your hips, holding you in place as he picked up the pace. “need ya t’ cum too, doll. ladies first.”
your cunt finally couldn’t take anymore battering, muscles spasming as you came hard on osamu’s cock. you saw him grin as your body shook, finally allowing himself to release with a low groan.
he made sure to pull out of your overstuffed pussy before you could get too stimulated, situating himself at your side so he could pull you into his chest. you rested your cheek against his pec.
stillness overtook the room as you tried to compose yourself, body still twitching with aftershocks.
osamu chuckled, kissing the crown of your head.
“i told ya i’d make it work. see, ya can trust me.”
_____
the next twenty four hours were absolute bliss. you and osamu were practically connected at the hip, all ooey gooey and lovey dovey with each other. atsumu and suna made gagging sounds every time they saw the two of you, but neither of you cared. nothing was going to ruin the oasis you’d built with one other.
the emergency alarm figured it was up for the challenge.
your eyebrows knitted together, pulling away from your lover’s side as you heard the sound pierce the content silence you’d been sitting in.
the uneasy feeling from before, the feeling that something still just wasn’t right came back to you.
“it might just be some mechanical issues,” osamu reassured, clearly trying to calm you down. you met his gaze, slightly taken aback by the expression in them. it was hard to read, but you just chalked it up to him being antsy, too.
“hopefully.”
the broken, bloodied glasses of director takeda proved the two of you wrong.
oikawa held them in the palm of his hand, a grim look on his face.
“he was in navigation,” he started. “i could barely even recognize him, that’s how bad the damage was.”
you couldn’t stop your lip from wobbling. your nightmare was still ongoing, and now the one person who kept you all sane had been beaten into his grave.
what came next broke you even more, though.
“kanoka is dead, too.”
two murders.
two murders on the same damn day.
you bit your lip, keeping your cries as silent as you could as the news settled.
suna was the first to speak. “do we need to move their bodies out of there, and give them a nicer…resting place, like the others?”
“that’s the thing,” oikawa’s tone now had an edge to it. “kanoka’s body wasn’t with the director’s, it was in lower engine.”
“so what does that mean?” you said, frustration starting to prick at you. “the killer moved her body? or had enough time to get from one crime scene to the other?”
“no,” asahi said. “oikawa was across the hall cleaning the air filters when he heard crashing in navigation. he remembered the time was around 7:30 pm. i was checking the reactor when i heard kanoka scream, and the clock on it read 7:27 pm.”
“ya mean t’ tell me they were killed at the same time ‘n opposite sides of the ship? how the hell is that possible?”
“is the answer not obvious?” oikawa bit out at atsumu. “there’s two fucking killers, and it has to be one of you four!”
“one of us?” you said in disbelief.
“yes!”
“wait a damn minute,” osamu started. “ya mean t’ tell us that if there’s two killers, it has t’ be two of us? not the two of ya, who’ve been stickin’ together since the beginnin’?”
“what ‘samu said! y’all have always been each other’s alibis, ya could have been bullshittin’ us the whole time!”
atsumu had a point. oikawa and asahi always being each other’s alibis would have been one thing when there was a singular killer, but now that there’s two? they could have been covering for each other the whole time. but still…
“if we were the killers why would we give away that there’s two of us? that makes no sense, we’d have nothing to gain from that.”
oikawa voiced the exact thought you had been thinking. they would have the element of surprise keeping their partnership under wraps, it doesn’t make sense why they would expose there are two murderers when it would be easier to let the impression there’s a singular one linger.
yet, you had gotten to know the other three people at the table. there was no way osamu, atsumu, or suna could be a killer. there was just no way.
“you could be playing mind games with us, who knows,” suna assessed. “there’s no telling what fucked shit you’re willing to do if you’re out here cutting people up.”
“no one is trying to play tricks!” asahi yelled. “the innocent people on this ship are in serious danger, we need to figure this out now!”
“the four of us see one another on a regular basis,” osamu said. “the two of ya are the outliers here.”
“we each have three other people that can vouch for us! the two of ya only have each other! yer outnumbered here!”
you were so overwhelmed. so much muddled information was being thrown around, no solid theories being able to stem from such minimal evidence. you weren’t going to be able to use your brain on this one, you were going to have to trust your gut.
“we’re supposed to believe the pair of two people aren’t the killers and instead the duo is hiding in the tight knit group of four? that shit doesn’t add up in the slightest, the two of you are talking out of your asses.”
oikawa and asahi turned to you.
“you’re smart, please tell us you believe us.”
you bit your lip.
“i just…can’t wrap my head around the idea that any of them could be killers.”
“don’t let being buddy-buddy with the three of them cloud your judgment. like i said earlier, why would we expose there are actually two killers if we were the two killers?”
a theory came to your mind, and you weren’t sure if you thought it up because it was actually plausible, or because you just wanted to prove your lover and friends were innocent. regardless, you shared it.
“the three of them are bigger than the prior victims, so they would put up a tough fight. two against four would be hard to pull off with them, so you could be exposing the murderer duo so that we get rid of two of ourselves and then make it a two against two.”
oikawa and asahi both blanched at your statement.
“she’s a genius!” atsumu exclaimed. “y’all really thought ya could put one by her, huh?”
“she’s wrong! we would nev-”
“i don’t know about you guys,” suna interrupted. “but i’ve heard all that i need to hear. let’s get them the fuck off this ship.”
the screaming and shouting that ensued as he and the twins pushed the two accused men out of the room and down the halls had you covering your ears, eyes squeezed shut as more tears dropped down your face.
you tried to tell yourself that you were okay. the murderers had been caught for real now, you were going to be fine. you were safe.
the ship went quiet, yells no longer being heard. that was all you needed to know that oikawa and asahi had been ejected.
footsteps pulled you out of your thoughts, suna regarding you with a nod as he re-entered the room.
“you alright?”
breathe in, breathe out. “i should be.”
“good. i'm gonna go send a message to headquarters. someone needs to tell them what the hell has been happening.”
you bid him goodbye as he left. standing up, you decided that being wrapped up in osamu’s arms felt like a good idea after the intense moment earlier.
they weren’t in med bay, so you did a little searching before hearing their voices from inside the admin room. you were about to enter the room before a sentence spoken by osamu stopped you in your tracks.
“i told ya t’ fuckin’ wait a while-”
wait for what?
“ ‘m sorry, i just wanted to get it over with! i told ya i didn’t want t’ be the one t’ kill the director.”
not even the limitless space outside could create the coldness you felt seep through every pore in your skin.
please be dreaming.
“ya still nearly got us exposed.”
“who cares? we’ve picked enough people off anyways. ship is ours.”
your pulse currently rivaled that of a racehorse, your brain not being able to deny what it just heard.
the twins were the killers.
osamu was a murderer.
movement to your left caught your eye, the brothers exiting the room only to stop in surprise when they saw you.
you tried to paint a look of nonchalance on your face, but it was too late. the panic was written all over you. there was nowhere to hide.
two very different emotions came onto their faces. atsumu practically looked predatory, whereas ‘samu almost looked as panicked as you.
“darlin’, listen to me-”
“cut her the bullshit, ‘samu, ya already dickmatized her enough.”
you found yourself backpedaling, fingers trembling as you attempted to put as much distance between you and them as possible.
“c’mon, angel, why ya look so scared?” atsumu taunted. you watched in horror as his brown eyes shifted to an inky black, the blonde about to lunge at you before his brother grabbed him by the collar of his maroon suit and yanked him back.
“not her,” osamu bit out, trapping his brother in a headlock. “i told ya anyone but her.”
“yer no fun, ‘samu!”
you didn’t wait around to watch them squabble, turning and running towards communications as fast as you could. you had to get to suna. he needed to know, and you weren’t going to be able to stand the slightest chance against the miyas without him.
choked sobs left you as you sped through the halls, sorrow and guilt eating you alive. sorrow because the man you had started to fall in love with, the man you had given your body to, the man you felt safe with ended up being a murderer. you felt beyond just betrayed.
then, your guilt stemmed from the fact that so many of your crewmates lay dead now, and several times you had let their killers roam free. not only that, but you’d also stood by as numerous innocent people were sent to their death outside in the vacuum of space.
you knew something was still off. you knew.
but your gut instinct had been fogged by your stupid, mushy emotions.
this was all fucked.
this was all so fucked.
“SUNA!” you screamed, sprinting into comms with red and bleary eyes.
“what is it- whoa, what’s going on?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.
“we were wrong,” you said, throat tightening. “it’s the twins, they’re the killers! they’ve been playing us the whole time.”
“damn, that’s tough.”
his unserious response confused you. maybe he was in shock?
“also, correction,” the dark-haired man began. “the miyas haven’t been playing us the whole time…”
your heart nearly stopped when you saw suna’s greyish-green eyes turn the same black shade that atsumu’s had.
“...we’ve all been playing you the whole time.”
you couldn’t move, not registering suna’s grip on your shoulders tightening until you were being ripped straight out of it.
“don’t fuckin’ touch her.”
you felt yourself become engulfed in osamu’s arms, back pressed to his chest as he kept the two of you facing the other two…imposters in the room.
“dude, seriously? she’s the last one standing, we could complete the set.”
“sunarin’s right! c’mon, ‘samu!”
you felt his hold tighten around you, the same hands that slaughtered your crewmates now protectively embracing you. that fact made your head hurt.
“i told the two of ya, ‘m keepin’ her. lay a damn finger on her and ‘m rippin’ it clean off ya.”
he was met with begrudged silence from the two other men before suna let out an exasperated sigh. “fine, i guess she can live. she did really help us out by vouching for us back there, fucking oikawa almost had us figured out.”
“a pretty face t’ look at on the ride home won’t hurt.”
“watch it,” osamu warned his brother.
you didn’t know what they were talking about. you didn’t know what home was for them. all you knew was that you were gonna get dragged along, whether you liked it or not, by a man who built a bond with you through sugar-coated lies.
osamu leaned down, kissing the side of your cheek before whispering in your ear. “all my feelins’ are genuine, darlin’, that i can assure ya.”
you felt his fingers intertwine with your still shaking ones.
“ ‘m gonna take good care of ya, i promise.”
_____
saige’s terrortober masterlist
233 notes · View notes
doingitforbokuto · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Osamu wouldn't call himself a lazy person. He gets up every day at the crack of dawn to run his own business, he checks all of his ingredients' quality before using them, he makes sure all his customers are happy with their food. He makes small talk with his regulars, he works until the last person has left the restaurant. For years he has put all of his energy into accomplishing his dream, so yeah, he wouldn't say he is lazy.
But when he comes home from a day of hard, taxing work, all he wants to do is lay back and enjoy himself. And you make sure that he does.
He's laid back on the bed right now, his tired legs spread out in front of him. Your hand is pawing at his big thighs as you try to ease yourself down onto his cock without overstimulating yourself. You had insisted on pampering him when he came home, swearing that he deserves it after working so hard. And now, with his back resting on the pillows you had propped up for him on the bed and with his eyes resting on your perfect ass, he had no complaints at all.
"Mmh, sweetheart.."
If you want him to lay back and relax, then that's exactly what he is going to do. He leans back, one arm slung over the bedrest. The other one rests on your shoulder while you take the last couple of inches of his cock and lean back into his touch.
"Ah fuck - 'Samu!"
Lazily, he fucks his hips up into you right after you sunk down onto him. His hand runs down your back and onto your waist. He is enjoying this a bit too much.
"Ya sound pretty, sweetheart," he murmurs as he smooths his palm over your asscheek. God, you look so good like this. "Gonna spoil me with s'more, pretty girl?"
You can feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes at the praise, the sensation of his cock sitting snugly against your tender cervix mixing with the sound of his praise will always be overwhelming to you.
"W-whatever you want, 'Samu." You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. "I'll do whatever you want."
It's clear how much he is enjoying the show you are putting on for him: the way you wiggle your hips, show off your ass, stretch your pretty back. His grin is spreading all over his face as he gets comfortable.
"Fuck yourself on ma cock, will ya?"
Tumblr media
830 notes · View notes
bunny-xoxo · 5 months
Text
After Business Hours
MINORS DNI
Osamu Miya x afab!reader
wc: 1.5k
warning(s): oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), spitting, slight teasing from Osamu, lots of praise from Osamu, sort of possessive Osamu, literally only mentioned once but reader has pubic hair ‼️🤍🫶
a/n: the people have spoken 🫡 implied established relationship but you view this how you want ! Literally just some good ol pussy eating 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
from poll results || commissions open
Tumblr media
“Aw baby, you’ve been needing me bad, huh?”
Osamu breathes across your exposed cunt and aches as he shoves your messy panties into his pocket, knowing he’s been needing you just as bad, if not more, than you’ve been needing him while he’s been away at work all day. He fights back a whine at the sight of how your arousal spreads across your bush.
You huff and nod your head, whining and running your fingers gently through his hair rather than tug him harshly towards your throbbing clit like you really need.
“My pretty angel and their messy cunt. ‘S all for me isn’t it, baby?” He loves when you’re honest for him and tell him how you’re his. He needs it.
Thick fingers rub circles into your swollen clit as he repeats himself, “Be good ‘n tell me, angel. Who’s pretty pussy is this?”
He’s still in his work clothes, black t-shirt straining against his upper back and shoulders as he kneels between your spread legs, his lower stomach peeking out with the way his shirt raises and bunches at the bend of his waist. His hair is messy from his now discarded hat and the way your fingers have been raking through it, sticking up and out in all sorts of angels, slightly stiff where it stands from sweat.
You were on his mind all day, his sweet thing all cozy and warm at home. He’d denied himself the pleasure of sneaking away for moments at a time at work. Working harder on not giving in to the way he so badly wanted to reach his hand down beneath the waist band of his boxers than he was at the tasks at hand.
His head was cloudy as he thought of the way you’d sound for him, how pliant and good you always are, letting him take care of you and your pretty pussy.
All day he was thinking of you spread out and laid down for him. And that’s exactly how you ended up in the position you’re in now.
You barely had any time to greet him and ask how his day was before he had his hands cupping your face and his lips on yours, groaning into a messy, needy kiss. Shamelessly he let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth, only pulling away to nip and lick along your neck like a stray dog, hungry for your affection but a bit of an aggressive lover.
“Need you.” He whispered at the corner of your mouth before giving one last peck and dropping to his knees, watching your face as he pushed your legs apart.
And now you sat on the edge of the couch, your thighs resting along Osamu’s broad shoulders as one hand pets along any skin it can reach, the other busy making you feel good.
“Angel, can you tell me?”
His voice reminds you he’s waiting for a response, he wants to hear how your pussy is his as if the way it was weeping for him didn’t make it obvious enough. But you’d always be good for Osamu.
“‘S yours.” You whine breathlessly and wiggle your hips closer to his face.
A soft smile and coos of praise are all you’re given before his tongue is laid flat along your cunt while his fingers keep you spread, bringing his tongue up until it drags across your clit where he stops to shake his head with a crude groan. He loved when he could taste how needy you’ve been for him.
You let your eyes fall shut and pant while you involuntarily decide to no longer be kind to the damp hair on his head as you tug him closer.
“Need more, baby?” Butterflies swarm your stomach when you hear how out of breath he sounds.
“Yes, please.” You’re worried that you’re too quiet at first, that maybe he’ll make you repeat it even if he did hear you. But the feeling of his finger teasing your hole as he mumbles a gentle, “good job baby”, soothes your worries until he’s got two fingers inside, curling into you slowly and keeping your cunt full enough to give it something to clench down on.
“Look at you pretty, being so good ‘n taking my fingers. That feel good for you, hm?” The veins in his wrist twitch as he flexes his fingers inside of you, watching your face intently as you try and breathe out an answer for him.
“Can jus’ nod for me baby, ‘s okay.” You know he means it, he always does, but the gentle kisses he leaves along your lower stomach and upper thighs sure do help to make his tenderness all the more convincing.
You nod again, small amounts of embarrassment bubbling up into your throat at your lack of ability to speak, when Osamu swallows it for you, showering you with immediate reassurance and praise.
“There’s my angel. So good for me, beautiful.” The last part is spoken in a hush, more of a thought spoken out loud than a praise intended for you, but it affects you all the same. Maybe even more, knowing he just can’t help but to think about how good you are, so much so he chants it to himself like it’s fact.
So, so, so good for him.
He mumbles something else, incoherent against your pussy, before suddenly squeezing your thigh and sucking on your clit. Briefly you consider being coy, telling him you can’t understand him with his mouth full, but you’re too far gone and full of pleasure to think of anything other than being good and taking what he gives you.
The sounds coming from where he’s busy making out with your pussy make you hot, they’re loud and vulgar but Osamu doesn’t care. You can picture him now, even with your eyes clamped shut.
In your head you see the way his eyes are closed, too, with a light blush spreading across his cheeks as sweat begins to form at the start of his hairline. He always gets worked up eating you out, licking and sucking until he’s sure he’s devoured every part of you he can get.
A particular whine from Osamu makes you open your eyes. Fluttering open and glancing down to meet his own with heavy lids, you watch as he pulls away from your messy cunt to drip spit down onto your clit and rub it in, leaving a soft kiss in the spot his thumb just was. He chuckles to himself when he feels the way it makes your cunt clench around his fingers.
“Ready to be good ‘n come for me, baby?” His eyes are still on your face as he waits for an answer.
You get a smile from him as you rapidly nod your head and quietly whine, pawing at the hand he has resting on top of your thigh. He turns his wrist until he can grab ahold of your hand, squeezing it gently as he brings his mouth back to your clit.
“Oh god, yes please.” You whine louder than both of you were expecting and it makes his stomach flip hearing you so vocal for him.
The muscles in your thighs clench as he gets you over the edge, groaning when you feel the way he moans into your cunt at the sight of you cumming for him.
He wishes you could feel the way your pretty clit throbs into his mouth and your pussy clenches down around his fingers still slowly fucking into you. Maybe if you could you’d understand why he’s always coming home so desperate and demanding of your attention.
Slowly, Osamu slips his fingers out of you and spreads the mess you left around them into your clit softly, gently working you through your orgasm, and stands up to hover above you.
You don’t need to ask for him to know you’re waiting for a kiss. His lips are slick as he leans down to give you what you need, kissing you slow and wiping his fingers off on the side of his pants so he can pet your thighs without getting them sticky.
“How’re you feeling, baby? You did so good for me.” He mumbles against your lips before kissing you again.
“‘M good.” You always get bashful after being like this with Osamu, struggling to give more than a single sentence for a response. You think you’d get used to it with how frequent he treats you this way.
“Yeah?” A knowing look grows on Osamu’s face at your suddenly reserved demeanor.
You smile and tug him closer for another kiss, “Yeah.”
Both of you stay like that for a while, kissing and sharing quiet remarks of adoration, until he tugs you up to stand on your feet and rest into his chest.
“Let’s get you cleaned up ‘n have some dinner.” A soft peck is placed at the top of your head before you’re pulled in the direction of the bathroom.
And Osamu can’t help but think of how eager he is to have you this way again tomorrow.
——————
Comments and reblogs always appreciated! Mwwwah!
259 notes · View notes
missmeinyourbones · 5 months
Note
MIYA OSAMU
a/n: NSFW 18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED FOR INTERACTING, oral (m!receiving), kinda mean and rough osamu, spit, cum eating/swallowing, face fucking and head pushing
...
your vision is a bit hazy.
osamu's words come a bit muffled, almost as if you're underwater, when he tilts your head upwards to where he towers before you.
"this is what you wanted, right? what you were begging for all night?"
your lips are spitty and drooling, and so is osamu's cock as he presses it against them. swollen and red, he watches the strings of spit weave and bow as he taps his tip against your puffy pout.
your heart skips a beat when he softly smacks his heavy tip against your cheek. "look at me, 'm talking to you," he coos condescendingly.
"yes," you gasp naturally, not even fully comprehending what he asked you.
he lets his shaft rub messily against your wet chin and lips, taking pride in how dumb he has you when he hasn't even touched you, when his cock's been in your mouth for about a minute and a half total.
he hums to himself, satisfied with the sight. "that's what i thought."
his thumb swiping your bottom lip signals for you to open your mouth and you do so pliantly. he allows the pad of his finger to press down on your tongue, the rest of his large hand gently massaging your sore jaw from taking him in a few moments ago.
"touchin' me under the table like that," he scoffs to himself, but you hear him all the same, "that's no good, huh?"
he laughs when you go to say something to defend yourself, because the way he presses down on the flat of your tongue has you gagging instead of speaking.
he keeps going, rubbing your throat and cooing in a voice that makes you shiver.
"textin' me all that nasty stuff when anyone could've looked over my shoulder and read it? not nice, baby." he tuts in dissapointment.
slowly removing his thumb from your mouth, he lets you swallow and collect yourself enough to respond.
"i'm sorry," your voice wavers pathetically, "i just wanted your--"
"i know what you wanted," he coldly interrupts, but his actions contrast his words when he carefully lines his cock up with your mouth once more, softly caressing the sides of your head.
"so don't go cryin' about it now, honey. you said it yourself," he sweetly reminds you, bucking his hips so his tip just barely slips between your lips with each thrust, "you can take it."
he lets his movements lengthen, letting his eventually cock slip completely in your warm and waiting mouth as he groans and tosses his head back. he holds your head for a few seconds before retracting his hips and smiling at your panting.
"or are you just all talk? you like to run your mouth and not keep your word?"
he watches you try to shake your head, "no, no 'samu, i can--"
"oh, i know you can," he tells you.
movements repeat themselves until he's fucking your throat, pushing your head down onto him and using you in a way you're both addicted to.
"so do it," he grits through his teeth, hissing with every thrust, "fuckin' take it."
his cock head finds the familiar home of your throat and he relishes in the way you gag and scratch at this thick thighs.
"there we go," he tenses, legs shaking a bit at the feeling of your wet tears and warm mouth on him.
your head is spinning as you barely make out his words behind hisses and grunts. "yeah? you love it, baby?"
you moan, nodding along at his words, though you're not sure if its you bobbing your head in agreement or osamu coaxing you to.
"i know ya do," he whispers from his throat. "look so pretty like this."
you feel him getting closer between the tightening of his grasp on your hair and the stuttering of his hips. you're salivating, waiting to taste the heavy load you've been craving all night, the one that got you here on your knees in the first place.
osamu senses your eagerness, tongue licking his canine as he smiles.
"gonna take it all?" he prompts your excitement, "gonna swallow what i give you?"
you're nodding and gagging and gargling all the same, and when he does cum down your throat in heavy spurts of cream--you do swallow it all, just like he told you to.
never one to stray from his nasty need to taste you, osamu is kind enough you let you breathe for a moment when he pulls out of you, but can only wait so long before he's shoving his tongue in your mouth and tasting himself on you.
"see, baby?" he praises you, big hands kneading your ass and swallowing your moans.
"all that bitching and moaning when you could've be doing something so much better with that pretty mouth, huh?"
264 notes · View notes
sunarots · 3 months
Text
under the mistletoe
Tumblr media
pairings: osamu miya x fem!reader
summary: you and osamu always dread christmas with his family. they get way too into the holiday and are always asking you both invasive questions about your relationship. and this year, you’re dreading it for a different reason.
warnings: strong language, reader’s pregnant.
christmas masterlist
Tumblr media
“Do you think we can pretend we’re sick?” Osamu asks, packing the wrapped presents into the large carrier bag. He looks over at you as you carefully place the strawberries on top of the cake.
You smile, looking over your shoulder at him. “I wish. They’d move the dinner here.”
He sighs, checking the time on his phone as he wanders over to you. “I know,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Just want today to be us.” Osamu’s hands rest on your stomach, his chin on your shoulder.
“I know. Me too.” You look down at the cake, setting the last strawberry on its top and placing your hands on top of his. “At least we can tell them. Two months, yeah? That’s when we can do it?”
He smiles, kissing your cheek. “Yeah. I’m excited. I’m ready. Are you?”
You laugh. “I’m shitting myself, but…yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.” You turn around to face him, taking his face in your hands and pulling him towards you for a quick kiss before pulling away. “Sorry, there’s cream on your cheek.”
He shakes his head with a playful roll of his eyes, wiping his cheek with his finger and licking the cream from it. “Can’t take ya anywhere,” he teases, slapping your ass. “Go get ready, love.”
You take off your apron, giving Osamu one last glance over your shoulder to watch him place the cake inside of the cold box. You hang it over the hook on the kitchen door and hurry to the bedroom to quickly change into the dress Osamu had bought for you.
When you return five minutes later, Osamu has already moved everything to the car except from one small box sat on top of the kitchen island beside the ultrasound pictures. It’s wrapped with a delicate red ribbon tied into a small bow. Osamu’s leaning against the counter by the fridge, snacking on the leftover strawberries.
“Don’t fill yourself up before dinner, honey,” you remind him, taking your jacket from his hands.
He smiles down at you in the dress he got you. “You look gorgeous.” He kisses the top of your head, assisting you in pulling on your coat.
“Thanks. I love the dress, ‘Samu. Who’s the box for?”
He picks it up before you can grab it and smiles at you. “Oh, it’s not important. Are you ready, my love?”
You eye him up and down suspiciously, picking up the ultrasound pictures from the table as you lesd him towards the door. “You’re acting very strange today. Are you alright?”
He shrugs his shoulders, locking the house behind him and headed to the car. “I’m great. Just dreading this.”
Though you’re not entirely convinced, you slide into the passenger seat of the car and drop the subject. The drive to his parents’ house is a short one, the silence filled by the Christmas songs on the radio you both sing along to softly. He doesn’t remove his hand from your thigh until he has to, pulling into the driveway and seeing Atsumu’s black sports car already there.
“Are we late?” you ask, looking at the time on your phone. “Why’s he so early?”
Osamu shrugs his shoulder and turns the engine off, looking over to you. He gives you an anxious smile. “Ade you ready?”
You shake your head. “Never. But let’s do this.”
He laughs, giving you a quick peck on the lips before you both climb put of the car. You grab the cake from the backseat as Osamu takes the gifts from the trunk, and you walk in side by side.
“Oh, ma! Don’t get started on me! It’s Christmas!” Atsumu exclaims from the kitchen. “It’s complicated, ya know that!”
Osamu enters first, setting the bag on the floor by the living room before meeting everyone in the kitchen. “Oi, don’t yell at her on Christmas, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu scolds, taking the cake from your hands carrying it over to the fridge. He sets it on an empty shelf and greets his mum with a hug.
“Tell her to stop invadin’ my privacy.” Atsumu pats you on the back as a greeting.
“Only when ya start acting like an adult,” Osamu retorts, removing your jacket for you. “Uh, we have some news for you guys. Is dad around?”
“He’s sleeping, not feeling too great. Everything okay, sweetheart?”
You bite back your smile, wrapping your arm around Osamu’s as he pulls the pictures from your handbag. “We’re having a baby.”
Osamu grins, turning the photos around to show his family on your cue. His mother’s eyes go wide and she immediately breaks out in a smile. Her arms open and she immediately hugs you both with an excited scream.
“Oh, thats amazing! I’m going to have a grandbaby!” She gasps, spinning to look at Atsumu. “You’re going to be an uncle!”
“An…uncle?” He manages to snap himself out of his daze, and grins. “Congratulations!” He laughs and brings you both in for an embrace. “Uh, I just realised I left yer gift at my place, so I’m gonna run and grab it. Congrats on the baby!”
Neither you nor Mrs. Miya linger on Atsumu’s abrupt disappearance, it was Osamu who tried to argue. Unfortunately for him, his brother was already out the door. He sighs, dropping his head and giving a weak agreement to whatever his mother just said.
“‘Samu, what’s the matter?” you ask softly when his mother’s turned her back and carrying on with preparing the dining room for dinner. “Atsumu always runs off on Christmas for an hour or two before we eat.”
Osamu shrugs his shoulders and gives you another smile that doesn’t ease your worries. “It’s… No reason, baby. Here, let’s go help ma.”
He takes your hand and pulls you through his family home towards the dining room, pointing you in the direction of a black box filled with ornaments needing hung on the walls.
You never understood why Osamu’s mother always waited until Christmas day to hang most of the other decorations. You assumed it was so she could spend more quality time with everyone whilst waiting for someone to pick up the order, typically Atsumu or her husband.
You grab a piece of tinsel and drape it above the pictures of the twins when they were younger. A red one goes above the twins when they were babies, cradled in their parents’ arms. A purple one goes above them when they won their first competition in volleyball together. A gold one hangs above them in their high school uniforms, clutching a trophy with proud smiles. You hang a silver one above the first family portrait you were featured in at one of their relative’s weddings. You’re sat at the table with them all, Osamu’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. He’s clearly whispering something in your ear, and you’re laughing at whatever it was he was saying.
“Is that everything?” Osamu asks you, gesturing to the box. You take a glance and pick up the piece of mistletoe sat at the bottom of the box. Its crumbled from the weight of everything on top of it, but it’s still intact. “Oh, hang that here.” He taps the top of the doorframe to the dining room and smiles at you, passing you a tac.
You roll your eyes. “Yes, because I will have much more ease reaching it than you.” Osamu chuckles, watching as you struggle a little to pin it. “There. Happy now?” You spin around to face him, furrowing your eyebrows when he’s not at your eye level.
His mum stands behind where he was with her camera out, recording you. You look down at Osamu, holding out the box with the red ribbon around it. He smiles up at you, holding the box out towards you. “Open it, love.”
You don’t entirely trust what you see before you, using one hand to carefully undo the ribbon keeping it shut. You wait for him to nod his head before opening the box, revealing a delicate diamond ring inside.
“Will you marry me?”
122 notes · View notes
Text
Comparing You to Their Ex-Girlfriend
Featuring Osamu
Tumblr media
Osamu Miya x Fem! Reader (she/her pronouns)
Warnings: swearing, arguing, under appreciation, mentions of ex’s, mentions of alcohol, Atsumu being the voice of reason 😵‍💫
AN: I’ve been wanting to continue this series for a while and I figured who better than our favorite Twin, Osamu 🥰
*Atsumu fans please don’t come for me, I adore him I promise 🥺
You and Osamu had been dating for a little over a year and what a year it’s been. Filled with tons of highs and equal lows, you and Osamu had navigated it all together.
When you’d first met Osamu, he had just opened his first Onigiri shop and things were hectic, but you somehow made it work. You’d visit him whenever you could, stop by to support his business and even stay late helping him clean up after close. You were the epitome of a perfect girlfriend and yet, sometimes it felt as if your good deeds went unnoticed.
You knew Osamu didn’t purposely ignore you, he was just busy being a business owner. The stresses of the early mornings and equally long days were hard on him. Still, you wished he’d occasionally throw a “thank you” or a “what would I do without you babe” your way. Nevertheless, you continued to thanklessly help your boyfriend whenever and wherever you could.
On one particularly busy Friday night, you swung by the shop to help Osamu close up, excited that he was leaving the shop in the care of his valued employees so you could spend so much needed quality time together. You pushed open the door, announcing your arrival as you did most everyday, only this time, you were not met with your usual chipper boyfriend.
“I’m here!” You shouted, the door sitting behind you as you placed your coat and purse on the coat rack besides the door, a welcome addition to the cozy little shop. The kitchen door slammed open as Osamu immediately started in on you.
“Dammit Yn you are so late! What took you so long? I’ve been cleaning all by myself!” He shouted as you looked at him, a bit taken aback by his hostile attitude.
“Geez Mr. Grumpy, I’m sorry I’m late but the train was packed, and I had to wait for the next one. I did text you,” you clarified, walking over to the counter as Osamu huffed and turned heading back into the kitchen as you followed.
“Well, I sent everyone home early because I assumed you were coming to help me, but I guess I shouldn’t have because I pretty much did everything myself,” he growled as you stood by the kitchen sink, eyes narrowed on your unusually hostile partner. He was never this mean, never this rude to you.
“Samu, I said I was sorry, ok? Geez it’s not like I don’t come and help you every day after I work a full 8 hours. I even take the train opposite my normal station just to be here to help,” you recalled, trying to keep your cool. Surely something had happened today to warrant this.
“You act like I’m forcing you to be here Yn! Like I’m making you help me out with my store!” Osamu exclaimed as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were done being patient and forgiving.
“I never said that Samu! I offer to help you and I’m always glad to help but you don’t need to yell at me especially when you can’t even spare a thank you half the time for all that I do for you!” You roared, pissed off that he seemed to be blaming you for the free help you offered him.
“Don’t act like you're such a saint Yn! You weren’t here through any of the hard stuff like Amy was! Now she was a real saint!” Osamu hissed as your eyes widened and you took a step back.
Amy was Osamu’s ex-girlfriend and someone you had always felt inferior too. When you had met Osamu, he had told you about how Amy had left him shortly after opening his restaurant, stating that he never had time for her. Osamu was a broken man when you met him, and you worked to help pick up the pieces. He worked long hours, sometimes 7 days a week just to avoid being alone. When you came into the picture, that all changed as you helped him manage his store and make time for himself, cherishing every small moment you had with him.
Tears welled in your eyes as you stood tall, your eyes locking with Osamu’s as you spoke, “Well if Amy’s such a saint, then why don’t you call her up and ask her to come help you close shop because I’m done!”
You pushed open the kitchen door, quickly moving to grab your purse and coat as you swiftly left Onigiri Miya. Osamu stood still as a statue, his mind flooded with guilt as the words he had spoken to you rang over and over in his mind. He snapped from his stunned state, running to the door as he made his way outside to try and catch you.
“YN!! YN!” He shouted, the streets flooded with people as he looked all around for you, only you weren’t answering him, you weren’t there.
You cried as you walked to the train station, your vision blurred from the mascara that flooded your eyes and cheeks. You sat down on the train, pulling your phone out and calling Atsumu.
Your relationship with Atsumu had been relatively strong since he visited his brother's restaurant often with his teammates. You valued Atsumu’s opinion no matter how idiotic it might be at times. The phone rang as you waited for the star setter to answer his phone.
“Hey YN, what’s up?” Atsumu cheered as your voice broke, and you started crying harder.
“A-Atsumu,” you agonized over the phone as the atmosphere of your phone call suddenly changed.
“YN! What the hell? Are you ok? Where’s Osamu?!” He shouted as you began crying harder, surely clearing the entire train car with your blubbering.
“I-I think Osamu is still in love with Amy!” You cried harder, a sigh escaping Atsumu before he spoke.
“Trouble in paradise? I always told you that you were too good for him Yn, but I’m confused, why do you think he’s still in love with that squealing pig? She left him!”
“He-he told me that I’m not as good as she was and that-that I’m not supportive like she w-was,” you responded, snot now running down your nose as you wiped it on your coat sleeve, not even caring how you looked.
“YN, Samu can be a jerk sometimes, trust me but he loves you. There’s no way he would go back to Amy after all the shit you do for him.”
“Well, he never acknowledges all the help I give him, nor does he ever say thank you!” You shouted back as Atsumu sighed again, rubbing his temple.
“Samu adores you YN and he always brags to me how you come after work to help him and how you stay super late just to make sure he gets out at a decent time. He really does appreciate you Yn,” Atsumu countered as you rolled your eyes, frowning angrily that Osamu bragged to everyone about how you helped him but yet never seemed able to spare a single word of appreciation.
“Yeah, well now he’s going to have to figure it out himself because I’m done! And don’t try to talk me out of it Atsumu, your brother is such a fucking asshole!”
“Hey Yn, you ain’t telling me anything new. I’ve been telling people he’s an asshole for 20 some years!”
You talked with Atsumu for a few more minutes before arriving at your home station. You bid him a farewell as you made your way home, swinging by the connivence store to grab booze and drink snacks to drown your sorrows.
Osamu locked up his shop, his mind elsewhere as he made his way back to his apartment. He had been on autopilot since you’d run out, the words he spoke continuously looping in his mind. How could he have said those things? He no longer harbored any feelings for Amy and hadn’t for a long time. He knew shortly after he met you that you were the one for him. You were just as devoted to his dream as he was, and you were always so happy to help him in any way you could.
His phone rang as he entered his apartment. He was hoping it was you but instead he was greeted by the annoying picture of his twin brother flashing on the screen.
“What?” Osamu growled, answering his phone as he heard a chuckle coming from the receiver.
“Messed up big time didn’t ya?” Atsumu laughed as Osamu grew more annoyed by the second.
“What the hell did you call for?” Osamu hissed back as Atsumu cleared his throat, his tone suddenly becoming serious.
“Just wondering how you're going to make it up to her. You really did it this time man. She called me completely heartbroken from the train station,” Atsumu responded as Osamu felt his chest tighten. Sure, he had felt like a jerk before but now he felt like a complete asshole.
“What do I do Sumu? I love her and I really fucked up this time. I brought up Amy which was a fucking low blow and I know it. Worst of all, YN is a million times more supportive than Amy ever was,” Osamu acknowledged, sitting on the stool at his kitchen counter.
“We’ll have you told Yn that?” Atsumu asked as Osamu played with a pen on the table.
“Told Yn what?”
“God you really are an idiot! And here everyone thought I was the stupid one! Have you told Yn how much you appreciate everything she does for you? How she comes after working all day to help you clean up? Or how she makes sure you get out at a decent time? Or even how she stands outside advertising your stupid new onigiri recipes that sometimes taste like absolute garbage?”
Osamu paused, looking up and staring at the picture of the two of you outside of Onigiri Miya. It was one of the first pictures you’d had taken together, and it was right after whirlwind sales day. His mind tried to recall all the times he had thanked you and all the things he had done to show his appreciation. His mind came up blank.
“Fuck! Fuck I haven’t even told her thank you once!” Osamu shouted, grabbing his keys and running from his apartment to the street below.
“Damn not even once Samu? And people say you’re the nice twin?”
“Shut up ya idiot!” Osamu snapped as Atsumu chuckled.
“Go make it up to your girl, ok? But remember who saved your relationship! I want an Onigiri named after me!”
Osamu ignore his brother as he quickly hung up the phone and ran to the station, tapping his feet as he waited for the train to arrive. Thankfully it wasn’t busy as he boarded and waited for your stop.
He ran from the train, booking it across the city as he made his way to your apartment. He took the steps two at a time as he pounded on your door, out of breath as he waited for your answer.
The door opened slightly, your eyes narrowing on his as you slammed the door right in his stupidly handsome face. Alright he definitely deserved that.
“YN please! Please baby- please just listen to me. I know you hate me, and you have every right too. I was a completely selfish jerk, and I said some awful things to you. I’ve taken advantage of all your help and kindness, and I haven’t even bothered to once acknowledge it. The truth is that you’ve done way more for me than anyone ever has, even Atsumu. You loved and supported me and never once complained about it,” he breathed out, tears welling in his eyes as he continues,” I know I don’t deserve you YN but please just know that I love you and I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.”
Behind the door, your eyes flooded with tears again as you listened to his words. You loved Osamu more than anything and while his words stung, you knew he said them out of anger. While it still didn’t make it right, he had come all this way to apologize so the least you could do was hear him out. You turned around, opening the door as you peeked at him, his beautiful eyes meeting yours.
“What you said hurt Samu. It gutted me when you brought her up,” you cried as Osamu deflated. He knew what he said stung. He hadn’t met for his anger to get out of control like that. He knew he had to fix this.
“I’m so incredibly sorry for bringing her up Yn. I don’t have any excuse for what I said. Amy never gave me what you give me. She never supported my dream like you do and that’s why I love you so much Yn. You’re it for me,” he whispered as your eyes again flooded with tears and you opened the door, pulling him into an embrace.
“I love you too Samu and I’ve only ever wanted to see you happy. I love helping you and I don’t need praise all the time but sometimes it would be nice,” you responded as he pulled you in right, holding you close as if you would disappear if he were to let go.
“I can do that Yn, I can definitely do that.”
361 notes · View notes
noritoshiikamo · 1 year
Text
a part of touch starved osamu mess i just want to get out of my head
cw touch starved soft osamu, talk of boners, penetrative sex, dirty talk
Tumblr media
osamu miya has few simple but sure set of obsession.
food, his restaurant, his family and every single fucking time he sees you play volleyball. you, a perfectionist, who likes to try and think you are able to hide your ‘workouts’ at home masking as self care didn’t realise that it was just feeding his kink.
if he could ever call it that.
it started monday morning, so simple and innocent as you stretching off your sleep by the bed side. his lazy eyes shot opened as it fell on your back. the defined muscles barely hidden by his old high school sleeveless jersey as you tried to shake off last night’s sleep. nuzzling into the pillow that smelled just like you, he watched as you tied your hair, yawned and leaned forward to stretch further. the bed hadn’t been the kindest on your back and that muffled crack of your joints had you moaning in relief. you turned around, half smile with a flush on your cheeks, “mornin’ baby,” your raspy sleepy voice greeted him like a cup of coffee on a rush hour. his heartbeat were a mess. you leaned to kiss his nose and left for the bathroom. it was baffling how oblivious his wife was to the nuisance she had imposed on him. he knew you were saying something but nothing registered in his head. it has to be a dud because boys’ scout could’ve camp in his short.
on wednesday, osame got the privilege to drop off some food for lunch. he didn’t planned to sponsor the entire’s team lunch, but you’ll always come home with a pout saying one of your teammates had gobbled half of it. happy wife is a happy life, so on this rare occasion, he had hauled his ass, drove an hour away with a trunk full of onigiri and some special bento for you. which also means, he got to see you train. he missed volleyball, maybe for the memories or the people he had play with, but an entire career of it was too handful. his face flushed, feet glued to the floor.
had the uniform always been this short?
the short hugged your ass so well that every time you lowered down to receive a serve, he wondered how the fuck is the material holding up. women’s volleyball had always had the sleeveless jersey but every time you jumped, it turned into a crop top. his mouth dried up as beads of sweat roll off your toned belly. he didn’t realised how long he had been standing there, trays of food in hand until somebody blew a whistle. your eyes finally met. it was pretty how easy you shook off all the ache in your muscle, glowing in happiness as your eyes set on him. you didn’t realised that he knew you too well like the back of his hand, the overwhelmed eyes you made was the same fucking look he craved every time he trapped you with his body down on the bed. samu, t’much, it echoed in his head. you licked your lips, a small smile on your face. osamu blushed. he knew it was for the food, but boy, the walk of shame he had to do down the hall with the food tray low to his waist down the cafeteria was hellish to bear.
saturday came like a breeze. it was your rest day because sunday is game day. osamu, like a perfect partner he is would always took the day off. what’s the point of paying his competent working extra on his day off if he is unable to spend some time with you. “y’kno, they call it a rest day because yer supposed ta rest,” he muttered, watching in annoyance as you unrolled the yoga mat in the living room. with the coffee table pushed aside and some old 90s sitcom rolling on the tv that you both had watched on repeat for the umpteenth time, you stick your tongue out, ignoring your whiny husband’s stare as he nursed his morning coffee.
“i’m just restless. so yoga helps.”
if it was years ago, he would’ve blamed it on atsumu for introducing it to you. but as he brought the cup up to his lips, his body tensed and the coffee started to taste a little bitter than it was supposed to be. because now atsumu is an annoyance for instigating the growing feeling he had as his wife pulled an upward dog. was it upward dog, whatever the fuck the position called but all he knew was his view was no longer the clean house he slaved his years to buy but his wife’s fleshy ass up in the air. his eyes followed like a hawk, from one position to another position. every time your eyes met, you flashed a smile, talking about something that he was sure wasn’t that significant. he promised, when he isn’t throbbing hard behind the kitchen counter, staining his boxer with his pre cum, osamu is a great listener.
he didn’t realise he had moved until you called his name. he was standing behind you, his hands were on your waist as he sort of pinned you down from moving. you were stuck in the position, bending forward palms flat on the floor, unable to lift your legs to complete the downward facing dog split.
“samu?”
his mouth dried up again. “y-your back wasn’t straight enough when you lift your leg. i’ll help.” you shrugged at his words, pleased that your husband wasn’t annoyed but keen to help. you raised your leg and it went up until you were able to support it by his shoulder. it was perfect until something clicked. you cursed.
“samu, you’re an asshole.”
his fingers reached for the elastic of your shorts. “straighten up, ya not holding yer posture correctly,” he muttered nonchalantly, a small spark of naughtiness glinted in his eyes as he pushed your back side lower until it was brushing against his growing bulge. “i would, if you’ll stop brushing your cock against me,” you hissed, watching as his short pooled along his ankles.
he hushed you, spitting lightly along his shaft, tugging lightly before running gently against your slit. you cursed again, bracing your palm against the floor as your arms trembled. the sound he was making wasn’t helping you as it went straight down to your aching cunt. osamu took his sweet time, with you trapped in the position, his other hand kneaded your ass, slowly rutting against your cunt. the friction from the thong and pooling wetness were driving him insane.
“tsumu said that the pose can build yer core strength,” he watched excitedly as your legs trembled every time his tip brushed against your clit, “just focus on ya hands and i’ll take care of the rest, ‘kay?”
the weak sigh and soft okay out of your lips were reassuring that osamu alone wasn’t the one having fun here. he loves it when you submit to his needs, even when it was ridiculous to bear. you always thought you married the sane one. the tv were now on the black screen, prompt of ‘are you still watching?’ appeared as his cock finally slipped in. he could see your twisted face on the reflective screen.
osamu is a sick person in mind.
he was sick for you and the way your cunt kept sucking him in drove him wild. this was his kind of yoga. his thrusts were erratic, your back flushed against his back. abandoned was whatever pose you had earlier, your back were straighter against his chest anyway. he held one of your legs up, spreading it enough to see the reflection of his cock jackhammering into your dripping cunt. another kept your head aside as his teeth marked your neck as his. “match t’morrow, hngh samu,” you gasped, hand up tugging on the hair on the back of his nape but it did nothing but tightened his lips against your skin that were bound to bruise. he released it with a pop, happy as he eyed the stained skin.
“so?”
“fuck you, samu.”
“right,” thrust, “back,” thrust, “at,” thrust, “ya.”
the sound of your skin slapping echoed the space, you could only whimper weakly as you surrendered to the pleasure, his pleasure. he couldn’t care less if you were trembling from high, gushing all over his cock as he powered through your orgasm. your tightened wall massaging his aching cock meant that he just had to fuck you faster and harder.
you cried in pleasure were louder, the neighbour should know his name by now.
he kissed you feverishly, lapping the marks and sweat agains your skin. nibbling on your lobe, licking beads of sweat and tears down your flushed cheeks. he knocking air out of your lung, you swore you could feel his thrusts up to your throat.
“s’good baby, fuck i could stay in yer cunt forever. why ya gotta be so fuckin’ perfect all the time. ya cunt is driving me crazy. fuck fuck, baby i wanna cum so badly. i wanna cum in you. baby ya think i can fuck ya t’morrow and ya do ya thing with cunny full of my cum. fuck baby, i wanna see my cum dripping down your legs.”
his lewd remarks kept on coming and all you could do is nod and beg because who doesn’t want a cunt full of osamu miya. every body does and here you are being the chosen one. osamu miya has few simple but sure set of obsession.
food, his restaurant, his family and every single fucking time he sees you play volleyball and your aching cunt begging for his release.
you heard the fabric of your bra ripped as he yanked it down, releasing the aching breast for his hand to grab a handful. his warm breath echoed against your cold skin, you listened to his pants, deep throaty moan as he chased his release. it was getting rougher, tip brushing against your cervix, beads of his own sweat rolling off onto your shoulder.
he whined, drool dripped over the corner of his lips, “baby.”
“fuck samu, inside please please,” you gasped, head thrown back. there were no reasoning when your husband had set his mind on one thing. he was close. his grip were tighter as if you were about to slip away, his whines were louder and his thrust weren’t easing. you couldn’t help the scream your throat let out as he cum, he was pressed down and tight against your cervix. his thrust were slower, yet sheathed deep longer. he wanted all of him in you. you were going to keep his cum inside.
his praises didn’t fall short. he showered you with kisses, telling you how much a good girl you were and how well you were taking him in. you could feel him in the shape of the bulge against your stomach. once he was down from the high, he set you down slowly on the floor, you rested your chest against his as you both tried to catch a breather.
he finally kiss you on the mouth, gently this time, caressing your cheeks and hair away from your face. in the heat of moment, saturday morning became your favourite day of the week as his lips moved to tell you how much he loved you between the kiss. you reciprocated happily, watching his soft eyes glistened in excitement and content.
the sun’s now up, warming the room, bouncing against his skin so majestically. somehow the tv had resume the show and the miya household were buzzing again. time always stop when you’re with him. you brushed his hair off his sweaty forehead. his eyes were full of love yet he always like to ruin the moment with being an ass.
“fuck, we should do yoga more,” he grinned, planting a kiss on your own forehead as you struggled to catch your breath. your mat were a soaking mess, sticking down against your bare skin as you watched the happy man wobbled happily to the kitchen with his dick swinging, staring into the fridge for some snacks.
in sickness and health, you vowed, smile on your lips grew as you laid down.
that’s your beloved husband.
sunday came like a breeze. it took a lot of running around the house and screaming as osamu chased you down bare naked, threatening to keep his promise. but you countered his threat, holding his phone with finger on speed dial he knew were gonna bring a bigger wrath down to the mankind; mama miya.
you got him out of the house, unscathed with your lover boy pouting all the way to your match.
“ya promise,” he huffed, locking the door every time you tried to escape.
your giggles echoed the car as you nodded. you leaned against him, planting a small innocent kiss against his lobe. the boy froze. “yes, samu. i’ll promise if you keep it,” your hand went down to grab the surprisingly half hard cock through his jeans, “in ya pants, i promise you, i’m all yours this week.”
his brows shot up, “anywhere?”
“anywhere, everywhere.”
“even if in at the shop?”
you tugged his ears playfully, “geez samu, as if we haven’t violated the health code of conduct the first month we got the shop set up.” you walked out together, your bag slung over his shoulder as you laced your fingers together. “on my defense, ya just started the pills and i was popping my raw dogging virginity and ya kept wearing that stupid legging that was so sheer i could see ya panties. no, half of the time ya weren’t even wearing one. you seduced me. case closed.”
you stopped right by the entrance for players only. echoes of shoes and balls bouncing, crowd cheering were getting louder and louder. this is where you had to part ways. osamu looked down on you longingly. “i’m not complaining by the way,” he pulled you closer, “don’t stop seducing me, ‘kay?” he whispered, brushing your nose against his own. you pushed his cap off, nodding happily as you shared a kiss. his onigiri miya cap sat against your head backward. the bag exchanged hands. he fixed your collar, your body ached every time his fingers brushed the bruise he left between the neck and your shoulder.
that’s the setter he fallen head over heels for.
“okay, samu. don’t let omi knows that we fucked on his favourite chair at the shop, i don’t think tsumu could hold him down. i’m too pretty to be a widow.” he mouthed a silent okay before leaning down for one more kiss, for good luck, he would said but no more words needed to be said. he flicked your forehead playfully before pulling away, heading to the entrance to meet up with your family and his brother.
“fuck them up, y/n.”
“i always do.”
Tumblr media
© all content belongs to noritoshiikamo. do not modify or repost
578 notes · View notes
kairiscorner · 5 months
Text
NO BC THIS IS READER WITH OSAMU
i'm not cute. – osamu miya x reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"babe, what're doin'?" he asked you with a slightly muffled voice as you played with his chubby cheeks. he furrowed his eyebrows as you kept playing with his cheeks, as if he were putty in your hands and he kind of is when you touch him all lovingly and sweetly. "just admiring you, 'samu. you're so... fluffy." you gushed, squeezing his cheeks, making him go red and warm at your words and constant touching.
"like... a cat?" he asked you in confusion, sneaking glances at you. "hmm, more like a fox." "oh, haha, very funny, is it because of our team name?" "no, i'm serious!" you exclaim, grinning.
"you're like a sweet, tired little fox that just wants to hibernate all day... y'know, foxes are actually my favorite animal." you rambled with a smile, making osamu blush harder and his eyes widen at your gushing.
"...i don't mind that, i guess." he mumbled out, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist and gently pulled you closer to him, letting you pinch at his cheeks and play with them, no matter how red he'd look afterwards–because he absolutely melts at your touch, he can never stay put or calm when your soft hands are all over him; and he never wants you to stop, really, he loves your touch too much to let you go.
354 notes · View notes
forusomimiya · 6 months
Note
hi love, so there is this *thirst* came to my mind and had to share with you obv if you are uncomfy with that you can just delete this ask
But osamu… osamu with beefy arms that can put reader on top of the counter of their house… he won’t do that in onigiri miya because it is more ‘violation of regulations’ etc. and he can just grind up to her.. yk bc he can reach there,, and he would spill filthy thoughts in her ear, maybe nibble on her neck, leave her hot and needy, then he’d just pretend he didn’t do it at all,, and continue what he was doing, just to see her blown irises, needy breaths and maybe even some begging too
Bc for sure osamu does love when reader begs for his attention
"Samu!" His beefy arms carry you in a jiffy to the kitchen counter, where he sits you down and spreads, without a hint of kindness, your legs to get between them, leaning over the edge of the marble, waiting for an explanation for something that even you can't explain. "What's wrong?" his eyes dive to your underwear and back to you.
Oh, right. You forgot you were home alone and opted to use your new outfit for the first time. You wanted it to be a surprise for Osamu but well, since he's already ruined it, what less than enjoy what may be to come.
"I like your new buy" his eyes roam over your skin, lingering on the blush beginning to grow on your cheeks, before studying your lips, separating to let the air escape. "I thought you'd wear it for a special occasion."
“Yeaah, umm…” not a stupid word you can spit out. So confident that you can take control of the situation, that when the man's body in front of you makes you shiver, you can only babble.
"Umm? Are you getting jumpy, kitty?" his calloused fingers caress your cheek, and as time passes, your heart beats faster. It makes no sense sticking to the wall to get space between both, ‘cause Osamu will drag you to the edge and have no shame in rubbing your crotch against yours. "You don't have to, babe. I'm just surprised you didn't welcome me properly."
You can't help but nibble on your lip as he impulses you to tilt his head to access your neck, staying there, just inches from your skin, just enough to make it bristle as he speaks into your ear.
"Don’t know whether to teach you a lesson or let you to ruin me" you gulp and think about how to reduce your heartbeat as your eyes point to his arms, focusing on his biceps, and how a thread of veins grows from his forearm and down to the back of his hand, which you don't know when or how it has reached your thigh. "I really miss being down here so much, between these soft thighs..." a small nibble on your neck startles you, giving Osamu what he wanted to hear: a howl and his name uttered in a whimper. He smiles as he watches you grind towards him indiscreetly. "You want me? Is that it?" you nod ashamed.
Both hands have flown to your waist to pull you closer to him, handling you so easily under his grip that you can't help but let yourself go, something he's no longer even surprised by, seeing how easily you melt at his dirty words sung in your ear. He lets you grind a little more next to him before put a delicate kiss on your shoulder and pulling away from you to go back to what he was doing, with a prominent erection under his pants. You open your eyes realising that your body is missing two large hands on your waist, a six foot tall muscular built man between your legs with his warm breath giving you goosebumps and leaving you on the verge of reach an orgasm without being touched.
"Wanna eat something?" he asks looking at you as if nothing has happened, as if you weren't still on the counter, gasping, burning with your eyes his fucking body and that fucking erection that makes you drool inside. Hundred of questions roam through your head, but you only want one answered.
"Are you gonna fuck me?" Osamu sets the rice packet aside and turns to you, arms crossed, watching as you still look for a little friction on the counter.
"You really want it?" you nod and, by the size of his pupils, you know that he would also do his best to fuck you right there, without worrying about rules because that's not Onigiri Miya and he doesn't have to worry about to not violating the rules of the shop for putting you against the table and fucking you hard for a while. "Well.. keep begging and maybe I'll give you what you want"
342 notes · View notes
starrysamu · 7 months
Text
inevitably.
osamu x reader
words are a little difficult for this set of roommates.
warnings: alcohol mention
Tumblr media
“where … are you going?” 
the streetlight flickers through the window. you should close the blinds.
“out,” you say quietly, tugging at your skirt.
osamu pauses. “where?” 
you shrug, rolling your lips under your teeth. “downtown,” you mumble, then blurt - “i’m meeting kiyoko and yachi.” 
the tv hums. when harry met sally.
he nods, averting his eyes to the book in his lap. his rimmed glasses slide down the bridge of his nose. “you need me to drive you?” 
your stomach dips when he looks away. 
“no.” goosebumps line your skin. you shift on the balls of your feet. “i called an uber.” 
“okay,” he says and you watch his chest fall. “will you text me when you get there? and call me if you need a ride back?” 
why?
“i’ll be fine,” you say too quickly, too dismissively. “don’t stay up or anything.” you swallow hard, words thick and heavy from your tongue. 
when he says okay, a sliver of your hopes he doesn’t mean it. 
you turn to grab your keys off the counter and slide them into your bag. “night,” you call over your shoulder. 
when the door shuts, you lean against it for a moment - you tell yourself it’s because you’re still waiting for your uber, but you press a heavy hand against your chest and hope your heart rate comes back down.
Tumblr media
“i thought you weren’t coming tonight,” yachi yells over the music. 
“things are weird at home,” you yell back. you don’t need to clarify that ‘things’ mean you and osamu have been weird at home. 
kiyoko bumps her shoulder with yours. “wait, catch me up.” 
“i don’t know,” you sigh defeatedly, head hanging. it’s true - you really didn’t know what was going on. maybe you need another drink before you can pull up the play-by-play in your mind. 
yachi beats you to it. “they finally kissed.” 
her voice carries louder than you had expected and you know it’s just because the music is too loud but it sure feels like she’s airing your dirty laundry to everyone and their mom at this club. 
kiyoko’s mouth hangs. “wait, why didn’t you tell me?” she yells back.
“we kissed the other night when he came home from his trip but we haven’t talked about it since.” 
your face burns at the admission, partly because you feel embarrassed to say it out loud and partly because you can still feel his lips, gentle and needy against your own. 
uninvited stills flash in your mind. his low-lidded gray eyes and flushed cheeks. your palms pressing against him, his arm burning against your waist. 
you exhale for a long, long moment. 
in your entire year and a half of living with him, you’d never seen him like that before, let alone even guess that this would happen. 
“i’ve been waiting,” yachi says giddily, “i’ve always been rooting for him.”
you down the rest of your glass. had you been playing the long con? had he been playing the long con? 
“so how was it?” kiyoko leans in, only a touch quieter than yachi a few minutes ago. 
really good. 
you’d do it again in a heartbeat. 
“good,” you mumble. “i need another drink.” 
yachi holds onto your arm when you move to get up. “not so fast, you have some more explaining to do. was it everything you thought it was going to be?” 
“that’s quite a dramatic question,” you say, suppressing a smile. “that’s a huge expectation for a man.” 
“but it’s osamu. it’s your roommate.” 
“that doesn’t make him any less of a man.” 
“that’s the point!” yachi says. 
“this is getting really confusing.” you bury your head in your hands, your muscles starting to loosen.
kiyoko slides a glass towards you and you reach for it like you’ve been parched for days. 
“so what now?” kiyoko asks gently, watching as you slump back against the booth. “you said things were weird at home.” 
they’re weird because this is new territory. they’re weird because maybe you’d been hoping for this, waiting for this, but now that it’s here, you don’t know what to do or how to act or what he’s thinking. 
“i’m not sure,” you say tiredly. “i feel like he’s avoiding … it.” 
you think about him offering to drive you and pick you up. 
your mind feels fuzzy when you hear yourself say, “shots, ladies?” 
you’re not much better at saying what’s on your mind, when you really think about it. 
Tumblr media
you don’t come back home until you know you’ve sobered up.
the lamp in the corner of the living room is still on. 
osamu hasn’t moved very much, but instead of sitting upright, he’s stretched his legs out on the couch, head resting against the armrest. his book is shut, sitting on the coffee table next to the tv remote. 
he’s almost asleep. 
his drooping eyes lift when he hears you double lock the door. 
“hi,” you whisper. 
“hi,” he mumbles sleepily. “you have fun?” 
“yeah. why are you still up?” 
“i wasn’t sleepy.” 
“sure you weren’t.” 
“i really wasn’t.” 
“you were literally asleep when i walked in.” 
“i was literally awake.” 
you hum, setting your keys bag on the countertop. his eyes watch as you walk towards him. 
your skin burns. you want to look away - you want him to look away - when you say, “do you wanna talk?” 
“what an ominous opening statement.” his voice is just a notch louder. 
when he looks up to you expectantly, you squat in front of him, shins pressing against the bottom of the couch. he props himself up on his elbow, meeting you eye to eye. 
you look at him for a moment and watch the tips of his ears fade into pink. you fold your arms over your knees and nestle your chin in the crook.  
“hi again,” you finally whisper. 
his head tilts. you’re inches away, close enough to feel his warmth through the blankets. 
“hi again,” he whispers back, the corners of his lips lifting. 
you suck on your lower lip nervously. “i think,” you start slowly, “i hope the other night wasn’t a mistake.” 
it comes out as a question more than a statement. 
his pupils grow a fraction of an inch. “did you think it was?” 
“no,” you say too quickly. “i was hoping you didn’t think so. i don’t know. i’ve just been thinking. i just, we just haven’t talked about it since - ”
he waits for you to finish that thought, but you never do. 
“i think this is the first time we’ve both been home at the same time since then, right?” he asks softly, peering at your averted eyes. 
you frown. has it? have you just been in your head about it for the past 48 hours? surely you’d seen him at some point since then - you live together. 
he sweeps a finger along your hairline, gently tucking your loose strands behind your ear. 
“so,” he says, “what’d you think about?” 
you look at him through your eyelashes. you, you want to say. instead, you choose, “this is all very new to me.” 
“i can’t say i do this quite often with a roommate either.” 
“stop,” you grumble, lips losing to a laugh. “i mean, do you wanna do it then?” 
“do what?” he teases, his smile growing by the second. 
you roll your eyes and tilt your head back in frustration. you lose your balance and feel your weight fall back until osamu reaches for your elbows. 
“you still drunk?” 
“no,” you say hotly. “i sobered up before i came home.” 
“and why’s that?” 
“no reason,” you huff. “can you just answer my question?” 
his fingers are still gripping you tightly. he pulls you forward again, but instead of balancing you, you’re teetering on the balls of your feet. 
he leans forward, hands moving from your arm to your chin. when he’s only an inch away from you, he whispers, “can i kiss you?” 
before you can even finish saying yes, you’re pulled in quickly, his lips pressing against yours hard. fireworks set off in your gut, creeping up into your chest until you feel like your heart is going to burst. 
when he pulls away to breathe, you swipe your thumbs against his lips. 
“i got lipgloss all over you,” you mutter. 
he grins. “strawberries.” he tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “does that answer your question?” 
267 notes · View notes
kentoangel · 1 year
Text
[❤︎︎]﹒₊˚﹕YOU WERE DIPPED IN HEAVEN your husband (miya osamu) makes you feel beautiful
Tumblr media
nsfw content, mdni ୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ fem reader. he calls you baby, angel face, good girl and refers to you as mom + mrs. miya. it’s mentioned that reader feels insecure about their appearance. kitchen sex < 3 cunnilingus. fingering. lactation kink. ‘samu praises ya! cum eating. mentions of food and (obviously) your kid
a/n. he has been plaguing my mind u guys (๑♡⌓♡๑)
reblogs + interactions are super appreciated. mwah!
Tumblr media
heaven is a place on earth with miya osamu.
especially at one in the morning, once your three month old baby is (finally) sleeping soundly, once you and your husband are in the kitchen making pasta — to soothe your cravings, to have a moment together before going to sleep.
but right now, you feel like you’ve gone through hell and had a fight with the devil. twice.
“can i ask you something, ‘samu?”
your husband chops tomatoes. “shoot, baby.”
“do you think i’m doing okay? as a mom?”
osamu notices the tremble in your voice by the fourth word that leaves your lips, notices tears in the corners of your eyes with a single glance.
softly, he places the knife down — wipes his hands on his pants. gently, he holds your hips — turns you around and pulls you into his chest, backs away from the stove until his back hits the kitchen island. tenderly, he cups your face with one big hand — stares into your doe eyes, rests his forehead against yours.
he almost huffs. “angel face, why would ya think you’re not?”
“b-because! a friend said i looked too worn out, said i should a-at least try and get more sleep.”
“yer friend’s a little bitch.”
a little laugh erupts from your mouth and osamu smiles, glad you’re not sobbing in sadness. if he could fight your insecurities, hold them by the neck until their last breath — he would do it in a heartbeat.
“trust me, angel face.” he murmurs, swipes his thumbs on your eye bags soulfully. “you’re doing amazing, ‘kay?” an emotional sob wracks your body, your husband heaves a breath — he doesn’t like seeing you so broken.
“th-thanks, ‘samu. i just — i just feel so ugly sometimes. my eye bags are huge a-and so many of my shirts are r-ruined.” your eyes leave his, your head droops. “and now my night gown is so, too.”
osamu looks down, follows your line of sight. your nipples are erect and wet patches of milk stain the silk of your soft pink gown.
“you’re beautiful, baby — and yer doin’ great as a mom.” his hand trails down and down until it’s gripping your waist. “let me show you, mrs. miya — let me show ya how beautiful ya are.”
and then, your husband is kissing you.
gently, he turns you around — softly mounts you atop the counter. he grips your plush thigh lovingly, presses his chest to yours, has you wrap your legs around his waist.
he really does think you’re beautifully — thinks you were dipped into heaven before being placed on the earth, believes the moon kissed you before sending you to him.
miya osamu is the luckiest man alive; to have you in his arms is better than being guaranteed a spot in heaven.
his mouth leaves yours, trails down to plant wet kisses on your neck and collarbone and even your shoulder. he pulls on your night gown, admires how milk drips down your breasts.
a bulge forms in his pants and he’s almost ashamed, but why should he be? when he has a deity in front of him with a million stars in her eyes, waiting for him to sacrifice himself completely?
“look — yer gorgeous.” he’s incredulous, really. because he can’t — for the life of him — believe you felt ugly.
your husband cups your breast, squeezes ever so gently, lowers his head until his lips are latched around your nipple. and he sucks — drinks your milk, wonders why he hasn’t done so before, groans.
you moan at the sensation of the vibration, let out a shaky breath as osamu swirls his tongue on your nipple. he doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know what to appreciate first — your face, contorted with bliss, your heaving chest, the outline of your pussy peeking out of your night gown that has risen up.
he gives your other leaking breast attention, suckles until his jaw aches. and he gently pushes you back, has you lay on the countertop.
miya osamu could devour you whole.
“yer so pretty, mrs. miya — divine.” his middle finger prods at your clothed pussy, rubs up and down slowly, traces a million and one hearts.
and miya osamu isn’t usually the typical romantic, but for you he’d go to the ends of the earth.
he moves your underwear to the side, inserts his middle finger at a leisurely pace. but he’s needier than you, he really can’t help himself as he goes all the way in just to see your face twist in pleasure.
is he selfish to want to suck you dry? you look better than an angel, body — nipples, especially — glowing under your kitchen’s dim light.
as his fingers pull out to rub at your clit, he leans down to drink up the milk that has spilled from your breasts.
you’re breathless. “f-feels really good, ‘samu.”
“‘m glad. god. you’re so pretty, baby — and yer doing so good for me.”
his praise makes your pussy clench at nothing, makes you lift your hips up. he’s shamelessly drowning in your pleasure.
and finally, your husband goes down and down and down — until he’s about to devour you.
“o-osamu!”
his thumb circles your soaking wet clit, his tongue cleans up every drop of your lust.
“do ya hear yourself, baby — sounds like an angel singin’.”
his tongue massages your walls, hits you so perfectly because god — he wants to make you see stars.
miya osamu starts to believe you’re the only meal that can soothe his cravings, the only one for him. he feels so full of love, he starts to believe he won’t be able to eat.
“‘m gonna cum!”
“c’mon baby, ya can do it — be a good girl and cum all over me. for me.”
and once you do, osamu drinks you up.
you’re breathing heavy, you’re so sweaty — but osamu tells you again and again how beautiful you are, his love filled promises sealed with kisses.
your husband helps you up, rests his forehead against yours, laughs softly. “i love you, ‘samu.”
“i love you too, baby.” he plants a soft kiss on your lips, hopes you’ll see that you even taste like heaven. “and i’ll be sure to punch yer friend in the face.”
you laugh and the stars align in miya osamu’s heart.
Tumblr media
taglist ! thank u for being interested ໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝꒱ྀི১
@discordkittenjoestar / @5ugu / @chuuyasboots / @kovjiro / @bbiemilk / @unstaaableaf / @soumies / @ushiko / @atesumu / @kitfsune / @crypt7d / @yuutakittie / @thatswhyoshoesraggedy / @melio54 / @chubbyhoney / @salmon-ro3 / @sookisaurus / @seanicsiren / @soranihimawari / @the-0nly-rose / @miyasann / @khinux / @ms0milk / @useless-bicth — in bold could not be tagged :(
1K notes · View notes