#miya osamu drabble

[kitashousewife]

“ma, i’ve got to-“ osamu stops in his tracks, hand on his heart in his childhood kitchen. “how’d ya get in here?”

your expression is blank as you bite into a cookie made fresh a couple hours back, when you first got here.

“the front door.”

“did ya run ma some money? yer practically moved in at this point,” he pulls himself up onto the counter. “where is she, anyway?”

you giggle. he raises an eyebrow, chewing slowly. it’s always something with the two of ya, as he always says.

“she ran to the market. we’re making dinner.”

“we? as in-“

“all three of us. she knew you would stop by.”

osamu grins. he knows how this goes. his mom runs to the store, gets the ingredients, and he makes dinner for the three of you while you gossip with his mom about who knows what.

standard friday night in the miya household.

he’s okay with it, too. osamu just wishes that instead of his best friend, his girlfriend was letting herself into his ma’s house, eating his food, and stealing kisses. but for now, he’ll settle for stolen looks across the table while the three of you eat.

[mavrintarou]

[Daddies in December] Miya Osamu

I tell you, Miya Osamu is something else.

Warning: trigger (accidental black eye), smut

.

Osamu finally looked at his phone after the sudden rush in the kitchen. He felt the vibration of his phone in the back of his pocket but couldn’t check it until almost an hour later.

His eyes widened and he zoomed into the picture Y/n just sent him.

Look, I’m a pirate!

She had an eye patch over her left eye with a smile that never fails to flutter his heart.

He didn’t bother to look at the time and pressed the camera icon, video-calling her.

She rejected his call and he called again.

I’m in a parent-teacher meeting.

Osamu let out a frustrated sigh, so many questions were attacking him, and he needed answers.

.

“Kitchen.” Was all he said when Y/n stepped foot into his shop.

Y/n and Megumi, the cashier exchanged looks. “He’s been waiting for you,” Megumi whispered, “asking every five minutes if you’re here yet.” He gestured for her to hurry and go, “good luck.”

Y/n dragged her feet and sighed before walking towards the kitchen where Osamu’s office is located. She smiled and greeted Osamu’s staff in the kitchen as they all stared at her with wide eyes.

She stepped into Osamu’s office, and he was leaning against his desk with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He quietly ordered, “close the door.”

As if she were a child in trouble, she closed the door behind her and then looked at her husband. “It was an accident,” she quickly said all under one breath. “I was at the wrong spot and wrong time and… didn’t see the baseball…”

Osamu inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I don’t like you getting hurt, anywhere on your body but Y/n,” he paused before stating, “what if it wasn’t your eye but instead your tummy?”

“I know,” Y/n mumbled, she had those exact thoughts, and thank the Gods it was her eye instead of her tummy. She placed both her hands on her flat tummy, where their baby was nourishing.

They had just found out they were expecting, Y/n being almost ten weeks pregnant.

Osamu has since then become even more protective and clingy. He has changed all the ingredients in their home, waking up earlier to pack her breakfast, three snack packs, and lunch. It was all approved meals and snacks for pregnant women.

Without further questions, he opened his arms, “come here.” She shuffles over and stands in between his long legs, allowing his long arms to wrap tightly around her waist. “I swear I cannot leave you alone without you getting hurt some way or somehow.” He pulled away and gently, ever so, tilted her chin upward, “can I see it?”

“Sure,” Y/n answered as he carefully lifted off the patch. She hears his breath hitched, “I’ve been icing it, so the swelling went down.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t stop the bruise from forming.” Osamu clicked his tongue; the skin was already turning a shade of blue and purple. “Those asshole students.”

She wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face against his broad chest. “I’ll be more careful and be more aware of my surroundings.”

“You need to let them know you are pregnant.” He has told her to announce it to her coworkers and students but she has been putting it off. But with this incident, Osamu is about to make the announcement himself.

“I’ll tell them tomorrow, I promise.”

.

Y/n refrained from announcing her pregnancy because she was the daughter of the principal. It was already challenging trying to get the teachers to treat her fairly and equally without special privileges. With the news of her pregnancy spreading around the school like wildfire, the staff and students all congratulated her.

“Haku,” Y/n has been pleading to the high school boy kneeling before her to stand up. “I’m fine, please… get up.”

He refuses to bulge. “I’m so sorry,” he said for the nth time. He felt even more guilty after hearing about her pregnancy.

“Okay, I accept your apology, please stand up now.” She has been trying to pull him up. Y/n suddenly thought of something. She cleared her throat before voicing hesitantly, “you know, me trying to get you off your knees will only make me stressed and upset…”

Haku immediately looked up at his teacher with panicked eyes and stood up, pulling his teacher up from a bending position.

Y/n smiled softly, patting him on the head, “it was an accident, I forgive you, okay?”

.

Y/n unwrapped the last snack Osamu had packed her, snacking on it and relaxing against her office chair.

“I’m so sorry Mrs. Miya, I cannot take you seriously at all.” Y/n’s colleague giggled, they burst out in a fit of giggles.

“I know – I can’t even take myself seriously at all when I see my reflection.” Y/n choked, wiping her teary eyes. “I noticed that Osamu can’t even look at me.”

The eye patch on her eye did make Y/n look a little ridiculous and she got plenty of stares when she was out in public but it was better than revealing the ugly shade of blue and purple skin underneath.

.

Y/n found her husband in their bed, crawled towards him, and swung her legs over Osamu’s body, straddling his waist. “Look at me,” Y/n demanded sternly before her serious expression morphed into a playful one. She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. “Do you think I’m ugly with my purple eye?”

Osamu set his phone down, frowning before glaring at her. “You are not ugly at all.”

“Even with my purple eye?”

Osamu reached to pull her down so he could press a kiss to her forehead before pressing a kiss to her purple eye, murmuring, “even with your purple eye.”

Y/n slipped her arms around his neck, hugging him. “Good, for a second there I thought you found me ugly.”

Osamu rolled his eyes but a smile was on his lips. “It’s hard to take you seriously…”

Y/n hummed in agreement, pressing kisses to his neck. She could hear his breath hitch and smiled mischievously.

They have not had sex since they discovered she was pregnant two weeks ago.

“Y/n…” Osamu whispered his Adam’s Apple bobbed. He could feel her bare heat, rubbing over his cock, the only thing separating and preventing him from thrusting into her pussy was the cotton material of his boxers. “You’re really testing my control right now…”

Y/n lifted her head to stare down at him, “is that what it is? You haven’t touched me in two weeks because you’ve been controlling it?”

“I don’t want to hurt you and the baby.”

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle, “’Samu, love – you won’t hurt us. At all.”

He looked away with embarrassment, “I might be too hard on you…”

She pecked his lips softly, assuring him, “you won’t, I know you, you won’t ever hurt us intentionally.” Her hands shift to cup his chest, running her thumb over his nipples and making him hiss. “So, please make love to me, I need you.”

Osamu stares into his wife’s eyes, remembering why he fell in love with her in the first place. His lips curve into a smile and he looks away before chuckling. “Your purple eye…”

Y/n rolled her eyes, getting off of him and then off the bed.

Osamu tried to reach for her but missed. “Baby, please – don’t leave, come back… I’ll make love to you.”

“Hold on,” she murmured, going into their closet, she reached for the nearest tie and returned. “I’ll cover my eyes because I don’t want you killing the mood while I’m trying to cum.”

.

“Wish you could… see this…” Osamu said quietly, looking at his cock already oozing cum.

Kneeling in between her spread legs was his wife, eyes covered with his tie and wrists bound together with another tie.

“I never thought I get so turned on being tied up like this,” Y/n whispered, “I’m getting impatient, ‘Samu…”

Osamu presses the tip of his cock to her pussy, smearing his fluid against her clit. It absolutely makes him feral to spread his cum all over her. With her eyes covered, it was a different type of excitement within Osamu.

He pushed her tied wrists, positioning them above her head. “Be a good girl and keep it there at all times.”

“Yes, daddy…”

Osamu lets out a breath, “fuck – you just know how to push my buttons, don’t you?”

“I can push all your buttons, daddy.”

Hooking her legs over his shoulder, he folded her nearly in half and entered her in one full thrust. “I should enjoy fucking you in this position before your belly gets bigger.” His hips roll in smooth motions, “after all, this is the position that probably knocked you up.”

No matter how many times Osamu has taken her in this position, it always feels like the first. She remembers the first time Osamu discovered this position, and how deep he felt inside her, it has since then become his favorite position to put her in.

Her cute whimpers were in sync with his thrusts, exciting him, and making him fasten his pace.

“You feel so… soft… softer than usual,” he pants, “you’re squeezing me so tightly…”

“Osamu,” Y/n whimpered, “ah – I love it… I love how deep you are…”

Osamu shifted onto his knees, pounding deeper into her. Their room echoed with skin on skin.

“So close…” Y/n chanted, her belly coiled with tingles and tremors before cumming.

With a groan, Osamu slowed his pace, spilling his cum deep inside. His body jerked and tremble as Y/n’s pussy squeezed and milked every ounce out of him.

Osamu gently releases her legs. He grabs her bounded wrists and brings them over his head, hooking them around his neck. With a supported hand around her lower back, he tugs her upward.

He reached to pull down the tie covering her eyes. “Hey,” he smiles, kissing her. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips, “that was mind-blowing.”

. . .

E/n: will come back and edit!

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

[star-redfiles]

phone calls and truths

osamu miya x reader

word count: 1k

“alright, we’ll meet you there!”

you cheerfully close the phone and instantly snap your neck to the giggling boy beside you. “shut up, rin,” you grumble. he ignores you and continues laughing, so you bring up a hand to his right bicep and pinch until he starts to wince.

“ow, ow, ow! alright, i’ll stop!” suna whispers aggressively, trying to keep his voice as low as possible on the crowded bus. you release your fingers and he rubs the spot where you pinched him, assessing the damage. “it’s just that your face is so red right now, you look like a tomato,” he teases. a small laugh nearly escapes the boy and you raise your palm as a threat. suna shifts his body to dodge and winces, to which you lift your head in triumph.

“i don’t actually look that red, do i?”

you turn back to suna with a worried look and he only – apathetically – shrugs in response. after throwing him a glare, you reach into your bag and scour for your hand-mirror in your bottomless pit of a tote bag. with a small “ah!”, you pull out the mirror and move it around your face, trying to examine your complexion as best as you can in the lighting of the bus.

after he decides he’s watched you desperately look at yourself in the mirror like an idiot enough, your cousin interjects, “if it makes you feel any better, I think that dumbass is way too focused staring into your eyes or whatever to notice.” you weakly slap the back of his head and he starts giggling again. “come on, you should be happy about it! as his best friend, i can confidently say that he likes you back.”

you only roll your eyes and grunt at a loss for words, sinking into the chair behind you. “no way, i bet he sees me as family or something. i’m his best friend’s cousin for god’s sake. isn’t it weird?” 

it’s suna’s turn to roll his eyes this time. he faces you with a deadpan expression. “there’s no way he sees you as family or even just any other friend, ok? he’s way too nice to you for that. if anything, it would be weird for me. but at this point, watching you pine for each other is such a big pain in the ass that i don’t care anymore. i think he’s too scared to tell me but i can tell anyways, so just trust me when i say that miya osamu likes you.”

“whatever,” you wave away the finger he has pointed towards you, and look out the window with a face of melancholy. “i won’t believe it until he actually says it to my face or something.” you sigh as the bus drives by a couple in matching outfits, sat on a bench sharing a bag of treats. you could see yourself and osamu in them, remembering how you were the only one allowed to share his food. if you weren’t blinded by self doubt, you might’ve seen that as a sign that suna was actually telling the truth.

but even despite that endearing fact, the thought of the grey-haired twin reciprocating your feelings feels like too big of a reach. a million thoughts run through your head while you contemplate what your cousin had just said. it makes you launch yourself into a full blown rant, speaking under your breath to no one in particular. “like, even if he does like me, how would i even tell him about my feelings. God, the thought of it is embarrassing me already.”

it’s easy to think out loud knowing full well everyone on the bus is too preoccupied staring at their cellphones or hanging on to their things for dear life to care. even suna, right next to you, is already used to your nonsense and simply ignores the crazy muttering.

that is, until he hears something.

he looks at you, who's become so distracted in your spiel that you don’t hear a thing around you. until he wakes you from your thoughts by poking at your arm. you turn to him in annoyance, ready to scold, when you notice the finger he’s pointing at the phone in your lap. 

you’re puzzled at first, then notice a muffled voice coming from the device. a devious smile nearly breaks through on suna’s face as he tries his best to keep himself from laughing at the situation. on the other hand, a look of bewilderment spreads across your face. you can feel your heartbeat pick up as you turn your head back up to your cousin.

you gulp down your fears and slowly lift the phone from your lap. both you and suna slap a hand to your mouths in tandem as your greatest fear is confirmed by the name glowing on your screen. your cousin attempts to muffle the hysterical cackles that escape him while you turn away to hide your shock and embarrassment in the arm of your shirt. you quickly attach the phone to your ear and squeak out, “uhm, samu? are you still there?”

“hi. yeah, seems you didn’t actually hang up. and i really am sorry for eavesdropping but… suna’s right, i do like you. i have for a while, actually. just haven’t really figured out how to say it.” aside from osamu stuttering out his apparent love confession, you also hear indistinguishable whispers from a voice in the background, most likely from atsumu. you can imagine the scene on the other side of the phone. osamu is turned away from his twin, you think, trying to give himself at least a bit of privacy as atsumu tries to listen in, making his own remarks from what he overhears. osamu’s voice is pretty tense and you can tell that he’s probably just as nervous as you are. “uhm, anyways, i guess that’s it. yeah. see ya later, don’t be late. thanks!”

with that, the screen flashes back to osamu’s contact page. you continue to stare at it blankly with your mouth while suna tries to snap you out of it, waving a hand in your face and pushing up your chin to close your mouth. “hello? earth to lovesick idiot? you still with me?”

–

once osamu ends the call, atsumu bursts out laughing like a maniac. his twin nearly hurls the phone at him when he yells at the blond to shut up.

“i told you so, samu! your scaredy-cat ass just didn’t want to believe me!” 

a/n: atsumu owes suna 450 yen because, of course, they made a bet. suna bet one of them would confess before 3rd year started and atsumu said after 3rd year started, but before graduation. this fic takes place during the break between their 2nd and 3rd year lol

[qardenofeden]

contrary to popular belief, osamu miya is not any better than his twin brother, especially when he’s with you.

this must be your fourth date this month, and it’s barely even two weeks in. so, in order to save money, osamu proposes a little life hack. a cheat code, if you will.

“baby, i got this ring at a pawn shop,” he takes a small, rusty ring from his pocket and presents it to you as he continues, “i’ll pretend i’m proposin’ to ya and all ya gotta say is yes, okay? free dinner, easy peasy.”

you sigh, holding back your laughter as you pinch your temple. “‘samu, that’s unethical.”

“whaaaat? no way, come on, baby. we’ll get to go on dates more often if we do this,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t say yes. you should be the angel in this scenario, guiding him towards the right path. the path of the just and the good.

...but then again, why would osamu date you if you weren’t at least a tiny bit similar in terms of thinking?

“fine.”

“hells yeah!” he celebrates, looking around and waiting for one of the staff members to enter your vicinity. luckily, it doesn’t take long until a blonde girl walks to the table next to yours and starts cleaning up the leftover dishes the previous party has left behind.

osamu looks at you, grinning before he gets off the chair and gets on his knee. you cup your mouth with both your hands, seemingly in shock; though in reality, you’re doing it to prevent yourself from laughing like a madman.

“my sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”

and the restaurants’ guests just eat. it. up. the crowd cheers, much like how they do in his games, and they chant “yes, yes, yes!”

“yes!” you burst out in laughter, jolting out of your seat and hugging him. he lifts you up slightly before putting you back to the ground and kissing you, lips soft and at your mercy.

osamu puts a ring on your finger as the crowd yells and howls, and later that night, the manager approaches the two of you and tells you not to worry about the bill.

atsumu’s been rubbing off on your boyfriend too much.

and so this becomes a ritual, though you’re both careful not to overuse it. you reserve it for anniversaries and small celebrations, like his team winning a big tournament or you getting a high score from a grumpy professor.

and though it doesn’t always work, you guys at least get a little dessert on the house.

until one day, when you’re a high end, fancy restaurant. you’re wearing a silk, red dress with so much jewelry, you’re practically shining. the chandelier lights reflect off of his rolex watch, and you both have just finished eating.

“this place is really good, osamu. we should come here more often.” you take a sip of the wine, drinking in delight.

“yeah... hey babe, what’s that?” he points behind you and you turn immediately in curiosity.

“...huh? ‘samu, i don’t see anything,” you turn back around to face him, but lo and behold, osamu miya is down on one knee.

your eyes look around in shock, clearly taken aback. “wha— babe, we didn’t plan this?!”

“i know,” he chuckles, pulling out a ring similar to the one he bought at the pawn shop, except brighter, cleaner. with more diamonds than you could ever even imagine. “my love, i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”

sure is a good thing osamu’s got practice.

@deardoelle mwah

[freshlyboughtgoldfish]

Atsumu bursts into the room 

“[Name]! Are you seriously gonna marry my brother?! I thought it was a joke!” He yells at you after he comes barreling into the room. 

It was the night before you and Osamu were going to be married. You open your mouth to respond before Osamu comes barreling into as well but unlike his brother he has his eyes set on Atsumu. 

Osamu lunges and takes Atsumu down and tries to pin him to the ground. And Atsumu in a panic starts yelling.

“I mean I like you, and I’m excited to have a sister but like… you’re gonna have kids!! He can’t be trusted around kids!” 

Osamu pushes and shoves Atsumu while they writhe together on the floor. 

“Shup your trap Sumu!”

Atsum yelps as he feels and elbow dig into his kidney but doesn’t relent. 

“He made me eat worms, and he chased me with wasps. And you think that’s an appropriate man to be raising kids with???” He gets out while trying to get his twin off of him. 

“Sumu, I like your brother, he’s such a great guy and I’m excited to marry him.” You say gently like you’re trying to calm a feral cat. 

“He tried to stab me with knives! He can’t be that nice.” He pants, finally extracting himself from Osamu’s grip. 

He gets off the ground and dusts himself off dramatically and makes his way to the door. He gives you a pained look. “Well if he makes you happy…” he says reluctantly. “Just know that if he gives you a gummy worm don’t believe him.”

And with that his gives Osamu a solid kick in the side before bolting out of the house. You watch your fiancé chase him out of the house and hear a car peel out of your driveway. 

Osamu comes back in and collapses down next to you. 

“So did you actually feed him worms?”

“…he was a very gullible kid. I got him like 4 times.”

“…that’s… oh…”

inspired by this ticktock. Here

[haikyu-mp4]

You’re cuddled up in Osamu’s arms one peaceful Sunday morning, lazing under the sheets until you hear Osamu’s stomach growling.

He groans, pulling you even closer, which in turn makes you snuggle into him even more.

“I’m so hungry,” he mumbles. You hum to confirm you heard him but make no further attempt at doing anything about it. “So hungry that… I could eat… You.”

Chomp!

That's the only warning you get before you feel Osamu’s teeth clutch onto the thicker part of your arm, munching loosely and making fake gnawing noises.

“Samuuu!!” you squeal, twisting to try and escape but finding his arms much too strong.

‘My boyfriend ate me out this morning,’ your friend would share later over a glass of wine, definitely bragging.

‘My boyfriend just ate me altogether,’ you would sigh in response.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

masterlist

[swtnjk]

bf osamu things (time skip au)

[aeonmnei]

— osamu quietly sighs to himself as he hears an irritated grumble from your side of the bed, along with the soft huff of the bedsheet as you shift uncomfortably. his mild exasperation dissipates quickly, however, when he hears you whimper and sniff.

osamu tosses a pillow aside as he turns over to check on you, spread eagle on the bed with your forearm over your eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asks in a hoarse whisper. 

you’ve got an awful pout on your face, and he can see a tear slide down your cheek and onto your lips in the faint light. osamu watches in slight amusement when you lick it off. he clears his throat. “what’s wrong?” he asks again. 

there’s a pause as you sniff loudly. you dig your palms into your eyes. “it’s hot,” you say, finally. osamu’s deadpan as he leans on his elbow to look at you. that’s all?? “well, yeah, baby,” he replies plainly. “t’s summer.” 

“it’s so hot, i can’t sleeeeep,” you groan, your leg swinging over to land on top of his. “‘m so tired, ‘samu. and that fan’s doing jackshit.” “it’s literally in yer face, babe,” osamu tries, but you let out another weary sob that makes him roll his eyes as he starts to get up, peeling your sticky leg off of him as he does.

“where’re you going?” you mumble, still sniffling. “gettin’ ya a fan,” osamu grunts, feet dragging sleepily across the wood floor.

he comes back a few minutes later with a large handfan, lying back next to you on his side. osamu snaps it open and starts fanning you— face, chest, stomach, and back up again. you relax, settling into the bed contentedly, and he can’t help but scoff.

“yer sucha drama queen, ya know that?” he tells you, his voice full of affection. “seriously.”

note: i think i spent more time debating between a colon and an em dash than i did writing the damn thing

[bokutoko]

OSAMU didn’t really have a favorite color.

it wasn’t until he saw you after school one chilly autumn day, your face lighting up with the question, “is that jacket new, ‘samu?”

he nodded—he didn’t think too much of it when he got it for his birthday, so he surely didn’t expect anyone else to notice. “a gift from ma.”

“i like it, it’s my favorite color,” you took in his full appearance, your eyes looking him up and down, “it suits ya.” a cackle escaped you at osamu’s flustered face, only growing louder with him grumbling, “shaddup.” osamu’s biggest tell was always his accent thickening, and you knew it.

as winter came, osamu found himself wearing that same jacket to and from school every day, ignoring atsumu’s relentless “whadda simp” comments, as a part of him hoped you’d one day be chilly enough to need his coat.

and when that day came, with his jacket hugging your figure as you nuzzled in his leftover body heat, osamu found it hard to breathe.

in that moment, he realized he’d found his new favorite color—yours.

a/n: sorry osamu if reader’s favorite color is pink😔 bro’s looking like pepto-bismol.

masterlist | navigation

please do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bokutoko 2024.

[evamame]

🏐 haikyuu men meeting your parents for the first time

very excited and energetic, and super loud too. does his absolute best to leave a good impression. he cracks so many jokes and does everything in his power to make your parents laugh. he’s very comfortable and talks naturally with your parents right off the bat. very expressive and open about his love for you. comes off as a handful but also really funny and super sweet.

HINATA, nishinoya, BOKUTO, atsumu, tanaka, tendo

first impression to your parents is that he’s very mature and respectful. brings a bouquet of flowers for your mom. he also makes sure to appear really put together. sprays on a bit of his fancy cologne and all. a little bit nervous on the inside, but that’s only natural. he makes sure not to show it. what he does try and show, though, is his absolute undying love for you. he really wants to earn your parent’s trust above anything else. “she’s the love of my life. i promise i’ll take great care of her, if you allow me to do so.” doesn’t this sound a bit too much like a job interview?

(makes sure he comes back to ask for permission when he puts a ring on it!!)

USHIJIMA, IWAIZUMI, sakusa, DAICHI, akaashi

swoons your parents over so hard he’s practically flirting. the type to be greeted and welcomed into your childhood home, but not without swiftly pretending to mistake your mom as your older sister when making his entrance. “y/n, is this your older sister? no? that’s your mom?! oh wow, ma’am, you look so young!” oh, how flattering this man is. gets along with your parents a little too well. they end up constantly pestering you about when he’ll be coming back to visit again. they probably like him more than you at this point.

KUROO, oikawa, OSAMU (he also brings freshly made onigiri for your parents), suna, sugawara, atsumu (felt like he kinda fit into both)

a nervous wreck. he requires a lot of reassurance in the car ride as well as the walk to the front door before hand. ends up doing just fine though, despite stumbling over his words a couple times. your parents think he’s the absolute sweetest, most innocent cutie ever. probably ends up using a lot of honorifics and formal language subconsciously out of nerves, but it just comes off as super respectful to your parents. the whole things turn out to be a win-lose situation, and he doesn’t fumble the bag as bad as he thought he would.

ASAHI, kageyama, yamaguchi (i could not think of anyone else vro. sorry.)

masterlist | taglist | tags: @scoupsworld @amaliaaliena @mires765 a/n: multis like this are kinda hard bcs i have to lump a bunch of characters in one group, so some are probably ooc. usually don’t do them for this reason but i felt like switching things up.

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[heich0e]

osamu boy dad, with a little army of miyas that reign lovable terror over your home.

it reminds him of growing up with tsumu. always noisy. always rowdy. always fun. and just when he thinks the two of you are done having babies, two lines on a pregnancy test the two of you are staring at in disbelief—in that brief window of precious silence between when the boys go to bed and the day's exhaustion drags you both under—say otherwise.

the first time osamu holds your daughter in his arms he can barely see her through his own tears. she's so tiny. so special. so delicate. he's used to his boys, now. used to tossing them around, and riling them up, and chasing them down just so he can slow them for long enough to put plasters over their bumps and scrapes. he worries for a moment that he doesn't know how to treat her as gently as she needs to be, this itty bitty little girl he loves so much.

the first time he sees his little angel deck her older brother for stealing her favourite toy, he realizes he had absolutely nothing to worry about—she's as much of a miya as the rest of them.

[kitashousewife]

“my back hurts,” osamu bends back, wincing with his eyes closed. it’s a saturday, post dinner rush, and he’s taking a break outside.

“maybe if you wore better shoes, you wouldn’t be bothered so much.”

your voice sounds distant through the phone speakers. his black high-tops kicks a pebble out of the way. very broken in, stained, and even a little ripped. he takes his hat off to rub his head before responding.

“but they match and look nice,”

“you can find nice, matching shoes with some support.”

osamu snorts. “those always look ugly,”

you laugh on the other line, and he grins. you groan, and hold the phone up closer to your lips.

“you’re a dork. we can look online later tonight, okay?”

“fine,” he sighs. he can hear the employees in the shop speaking louder, and he takes that as his queue to go back inside. “ya on yer way? yer favorite is the special tonight,”

he can feel you smile. “it’s the special every night. and yes, i’m only a couple blocks away.”

he pushes the back door open, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he puts his apron on again. he finishes the call and heads straight to the seating area to set your table up with the plastic reserved sign. like he does every saturday night.

he might even join you this time. just to rest his back, like he does every saturday.

[neoheros]

“morning samu!”

the bells that hang by onigiri miya’s front door ring loudly as you enter the building, the sound of your voice accompanied with a chipper smile on your face as the early morning begins.

osamu barely looks up from the counter at your arrival, not needing to see you to know that it is you, and even if he is too busy fiddling with the register, he still smiles knowing that you’re here.

not that it would be anything special if you were, you were here practically everyday at this point, it might as well be part of osamu’s morning routine to welcome you in.

not that he minds — he’d never — but not that he’d tell you that, anyway.

“good morning.” he says to you, the smile on his face obvious now as you can hear it in his voice, but he still doesn’t look up from the register, too immersed in the work to tear himself away.

“seat yourself, will ya? bit busy here at the moment.”

you shrug off your coat from your shoulders as you hear him, nodding to yourself as you pick the table you like the most, and you call out, teasing, “alright but if you ask me to serve myself too, i’ll be expecting a paycheck from you.”

you slightly hear him chuckle a bit at that, too busy to respond, but you understand anyway considering the incoming morning rush.

knowing osamu, your closest friend for years, he must be knee deep in question marks as he tries to commandeer both the cashier and the kitchen by himself, too stubborn to hire anyone else, and way too confident to ask for any bit of help.

you’ll save the scoldings you have in mind for him later.

now, you’re preoccupied.

you pull the chair on your table out for your guest this morning, a small gesture of your hand to get him to seat across from you as you make yourself comfortable, and once all that’s settled, you hand him one of the menus to choose from.

the menu isn’t complicated at all — mainly the reason you took him here — and you’re sort-of proud of yourself for bringing him here in the first place.

after all, what better first date than the restaurant you already go to every single day?

your date gives you a smile, “so, you come here often?”

from the counter afar, there’s a sound of the register suddenly closing in on itself that can be heard loudly, a loud “clang!” echoing throughout the entire building.

osamu blinks, his attention suddenly torn away from the register in front of him, confusion settling in his face as his eyebrows furrow together, his languid smile dropping slowly and he looks up — finally.

from where he stands, the first person he sees is you, you’re laughing and smiling and you’re all dressed so nicely today that it almost makes him smile — but then he sees you’re talking to someone else, someone you brought here, someone across from you, and that doesn’t make him smile at all.

“yeah, it’s my favorite restaurant.” he hears you reply, the smile in your voice evident.

and as much as osamu just loves to hear how much you like his establishment, he’d rather you say it to him and not to anyone else.

there’s a bitter taste in his mouth. he feels like he just got the wind punched out of him as he continues to stare.

did you seriously bring a guy to his restaurant for a date?

“what can i get ya this mornin’?” there’s an obvious frown sitting on osamu’s face as he stands near your table, a pad of paper in his palm as his other hand holds a pen lazily.

it took him a lot of energy to force himself away from the counter and actually walk over to you and your … date, but he figured the more he ignored you, the more likely you were gonna come after him for not … well … doing his job.

“jeez. reign it in with the joy, please.” you tease, your morning spirits undeterred by his newfound persona of he-who-hates-all-things.

osamu sighs, dramatically, and he straightens up slightly to look at you more professionally now, “i’ve got the new flavors in this morning, they’re new and experimental so you get the chance— alright, what the hell is that?”

you look down to where his pointing, an exasperated look on his face as he gestures at the very bright object you brought with you today that was just distracting enough to bring him out of his spiel, and you smile even wider— proud.

“my shoes!” you nod with excitement, grabbing them from the paperbag on the floor as you take them out to show him.

“those are shoes?” his eyebrows furrow together tightly.

“well, i broke them, that’s why they look so clanky and the steel stuff ended up hanging outside the sole part, so i was planning on fixing it today during my break time at work.”

osamu looks at you, deadpanned, “they look like they could kill somebody.”

and you scoff, “so dramatic today.”

you sneak a peek over at the other side of the table to check on your date, and your smile remains when you see him still pre-occupied with the menu, browsing his options as he gives you a small smile while he listens to the conversation.

back to osamu now, he still looks frustrated at — well, you’re not really sure at what — and there’s a deep expression that settles on his face as he looks at you like you’ve just stolen his pen.

a second passes.

“hand them over.” he suddenly tells you, a big sigh coming from him as his shoulders fall with defeat.

you turn to him, “what?”

“hand over the shoes.”

“samu, i know they look bad, but that doesn’t mean you can take them from me!”

osamu breathes in very loudly as he stares at you, his frown impossibly getting deeper the more he stays here it seems, and with another swallow of possibly his last straw, he puts the pad down.

“give me the shoes so i can fix them, you idiot.” he tells you, his tone as quiet as he can make it, and he swears, if you had not been one of his closest friends, you’d been out of your seat five minutes ago.

you cross your arms over your chest, “you know how to fix shoes?”

and he scoffs, “i don’t, but i figure my chances are better than yours.”

your expression finally breaks into a small smile, defeated, yes, but you did get out of fixing your shoes yourself, which is a win in its own case, and a scenario only possible with osamu by your side.

“you win.” you throw your hands in the air, and show him a wide grin as you hand over the shoes, “thank you very much.”

osamu takes the shoes from you and puts it at the empty table behind him, begrudged, but amused, not like he wouldn’t do anything for you anyways.

your date leans over to you slowly — an action that makes osamu want to roll his eyes all the way to the back of his head.

he gives you a smile, “you get good service here.”

and you reply back, “i know the owner.”

osamu ignores the wink you give him, and he gives you an unamused look as you grin. he shakes his head to himself and grabs the pad of paper once again before clearing his throat.

“order?”

“i’ll have two of my usual orders, and then one of each of the new flavors to go.” you tell him, proud at not having to look at the menu anymore to know what you like.

you do come here every morning after all.

osamu gives you a short nod, listing down your request, and begrudgingly, he turns to the other person at the table, “and you?”

“i’m just not sure.” your date tells him, humming to himself as he picks up the menu again. “give me a second.”

the gray haired man gives you a look; almost 10 minutes with that menu and he still hasn’t decided?

you give him an apologetic look, “oh, then, i guess hold off on mine too.”

osamu shakes his head, sighing, “i might run out of the new ones.”

and your date looks up from the menu to give you a wanton smile, “go ahead, order, i’ll be fine.”

you shake your head, polite, “no, it’s okay, i’ll wait for you. take your time.”

osamu clears his throat. adamant. “i’m almost out and i can’t make more.”

you shoot him a look. “then set some aside for me.”

and he squints his eyes. “it’s first come, first serve.”

there’s a stark frown on your face now too. your eyebrows tightly knit as you shoot the man in front of you a hard glare.

you have no idea why he’s making this morning so hard on you for no reason at all, but you’re about to say something to his remark if it weren’t for the sudden ringing on the phone that interrupted the conversation.

“i’m sorry, i might have to go.” your date intervenes suddenly, the ringing of his phone going off as he stands up and grabs his things from the table.

you look at him expectantly, “you do?”

“yes, something came up,” he tells you, apologetic and giving you a sad smile. he leans down anyway to come squeeze your hand quickly, and he says, “i’ll call you?”

you give him a small nod, “sure.”

not that you can do anything else about it, you say your goodbyes, and suddenly, not even twenty minutes in to your first date with him, he’s off and leaving.

the bells on the door ring loudly as the door closes with a slam.

your head falls on the table once he’s gone.

“well.” you grumble. “that was a bust.”

osamu puts a hand on his hip as he watches you, “ya seriously cannot be hung up like this on the world’s slowest reader.”

you lift your head up slightly to roll your eyes at him, watching him with squinted eyes as he walks away and disappears into the kitchen.

obviously, you weren’t hung up on this stupid date. you didn’t want to go on this stupid date anyway!

dating sucks. and it sucks even more when it’s forced on you last minute by a work friend who you’re definitely not talking to outside of the work place anymore.

you grumble again at the thought.

great, and you were having such a good morning too.

you let your head fall back on the table.

a minute passes in your sulking mess before you hear the sound of a plate being pushed across the table breaks you from your world of wallowing.

“here.”

osamu looks at you from the side, his gaze much softer now as he keeps his hand on his hip, and he watches as your confused look when you see him falls on the playe in front of you.

your usual order, and the new ones to go.

you look up at him, “but i thought you didn’t ring my order in?”

and osamu, defeated, rolls his eyes slightly, but you don’t miss the way his lips curl upwards even just a tiny bit.

you come in here every single day, every single morning, and order the same exact thing. rain or shine, he can also expect to greet you in as you come in those doors and greet him with that big smile you never fail to give him.

he can’t help it, it’s part of his routine now too.

atsumu keeps pestering him on hiring somebody to man the front desk so he can lessen his work load, but that would mean what? give up the chance to see you come in everyday? give up the way you say his name when you say good morning? give up your smile and your laugh and the way you tease and mock and tarry?

you’re the best part of his mornings working here, even when you’re with somebody else, you’re still the person he looks most forward to seeing every single day.

he rolls his eyes but you see him smile anyway.

“i already set these aside before you came in anyway.”

[act-nat-ural]

Currently thinking about Osamu who despite being extremely athletic for most of his life, is slowly not working out as much in his recent years. Between planning your wedding, opening Miya Onigiri, and welcoming your first child, he hasn’t had the time nor energy. All this combined he's slowly growing softer around the edges, and man does it drive you crazy.

You were relaxing, reading a book on your shared bed when he walks in after having showered. Towel wrapped around his waist, his figure on display. He was still wet, water droplets slowly creeping down his chest. His belly was starting to poke out a little, and you loved it. He was very broad, still some muscle left, and combined with the chub he was looking quite tempting.

You start squealing and hide your face in the pillow, kicking your legs. He laughs and walks over, still getting the floor wet. “The hells up with ya?” You giggle and peek from behind the pillow. 

“You’re way too hot. I can’t handle it.” As soon as you say that you burst into giggles again, and he raises his eyebrows in surprise, a slight smirk on his face. 

“Ya think so? I noticed I’ve put on some weight and was thinking of hittin’ the gym-” 

“No! Please! I love it!” He hums and leans over you, nearly pressing against you.

“Well, if you insist.”

note: gnawing on the bars of my enclosure…..

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ keep it on the low !!

ᝰ.ᐟ if there's one thing every celebrity needs to master, it's the art of the soft launch. building up the anticipation by teasing your fans, leaving little easter eggs that only the two of you could possibly pick up on, playing coy whenever questioned about your relationship status... looks like you and him could write the how-to guide on this art form. alternatively: a headcanon post on how the two of you soft launch your relationship. ( sfw + fem!reader )

features osamu miya, kiyoomi sakusa, wakatoshi ushijima, tobio kageyama, tooru oikawa author's notes blue lock version!

౨ৎ OSAMU MIYA. you are: a famous influencer notorious for being bad at cooking. you could burn water at this point. it's okay, though, because at least your makeup tutorials and your day-in-the-life vlogs are always entertaining and fun. you always joke that you feel bad for your future husband, convinced that a life of takeout and restaurants is the only sustenance your future family is going to know. you posted: a tiktok of a man cooking in a kitchen that isn't the familiar one your fans have seen from your vlogs. he's wearing a black apron, a black t-shirt that hugs his biceps, and the veins in his forearms pop out as he quickly dices the vegetables on the cutting board. you don't show his face, but you do caption the video when he tells me it's okay i can't cook <3. suspiciously enough, the owner of onigiri miya has his own tiktok page where he posts cooking videos, and his kitchen looks exactly like the one you're recording in. matter of fact... osamu miya always wears that plain apron, too...

"thank you for the meal!" your feet don't hit the ground when you're sitting on this stool, and you're literally kicking your feet as you stare down gleefully at the plate of food he's prepared for you. the meal is great, and for dessert, you decide to read the flood of comments tagging miyaosamuofficial on your latest video. you won't confirm or deny, but when osamu convinces you to stay the night, you know that you'll be more than happy to share a when he cooks you breakfast <3 video next.

౨ৎ KIYOOMI SAKUSA. you are: a cheeky pop princess. with your promiscuous persona, your flirty songs laced with sexual jokes, and your minidresses that you flounce around in while on stage, you're the girlie that has parents gasping when they take their daughters to one of your shows. while there's been speculation that you're already in a relationship, since clearly there has to be someone inspiring all these ovulation songs, you've never confirmed anything. you performed: a special dance routine at your latest concert. while you normally wear extremely bright colored bodysuits or pastel babydolls, tonight you're dressed in a sparkly black and gold getup. all your male dancers are wearing fitted black shirts with three golden scratches down the back, and you make a show of grinding against one of the dancers, running your nails against his back. you're staring into the crowd, smiling cheekily. that same night, grainy footage is captured of kiyoomi sakusa standing in the crowd, watching the whole show. the mask he's wearing covers his facial expression, but he barely blinks throughout the entire show, as if he doesn't want to miss anything.

"and there's a special guest here tonight." your chest is rising and falling from how out of breath you are after an hour and a half of nonstop singing and dancing. this is your ending speech for the concert, and the crowd is going insane. "i really hope he enjoyed tonight's show as much as i know all of you did. the love songs... they all are about him." the screams from your fans are deafening, and kiyoomi's glad that his mask covers the blush that creeps on his face as he hears your confession.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA. you are: literally ushijima's wife. you're a fairly private person to begin with, and it's not like you two have been married for long. you've been engaged for nearly a year, and you do attend most of his games, but ushijima specifically requests that the suite you watch him from doesn't get filmed. he wants to protect your privacy as much as possible, until you're okay with being shown to the public. he posted: a picture of you smiling on christmas day as you open up a gift from your husband. the boulder on your finger can be seen from a mile away, and as dorky as ever, ushi captions the photo with a happy wife happy life 👍🏻

"what does this mean?" ushijima shows you his phone screen, and you squint at it before laughing. one of the tweets tagging ushi reads leave it to ushijimawakatoshi to fucking hard launch his wife one random xmas morning. "it means you posted about our relationship out of the blue. usually people soft launch before they confirm anything." "soft launch?" his eyebrows furrow adorably as he tries to piece together what you just told him. "like, if you were to soft launch us, you would post a picture that maybe doesn't show my face but people might infer that you're in a relationship based off the photo you took." "that's dumb." he says, in his familiar ushijima cadence that had you falling for him. "i'd never take a photo of you without showing your face. why would i want to hide you?"

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA. you are: japan's favorite nepo-baby model. with a face card like yours (and connections from your parents), it's no wonder why you're gracing every billboard in the city, and you're the spokesperson of a premier skincare brand. your fame gets you international publicity, and you're selected for the latest skims campaign. with an entire country in love with you, it might be a hard pill to swallow for your intense fanboys when they find out you're in love with japan's best setter. he posted: so many reposts of your campaigns. tobio still wants to support you, even if he knows that you two can't go public with your relationship just yet. he's actually branded (and sometimes mocked) as one of your biggest fanboys, and it doesn't help that during your skims campaign, he reposted every single ad featuring you.

"tobio, baby, you're so sweet, but you don't have to repost every ad." you tell your boyfriend, watching as clicks repost to yet another one of your photoshoots. "but i want to." he says. you kiss his cheek happily. "and that's exactly why i stayed back and did some extra photos on the skims set, just for you. these are pictures you might not want to repost, though." tobio isn't sure whether his eyes should stay glued to the personal photoshoot you did just for him, or to the real life you who's ready to show him what the set looks like in person.

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA. you are: currently visiting your beloved boyfriend in argentina. people know that you two are together, even though neither of you have confirmed it explicitly. it's pretty obvious, though, considering you're constantly seen with him, and he talks about how lucky he is that his girl is his number one supporter. someone posted: a viral video of a toned man wearing aqua blue swim shorts taking pictures of a beautiful girl laying down on a beach towel. not only are the two of you so hot that you look fresh out of a perfume ad, but to have a boyfriend so devoted to getting your best angles? iconic, truly. fans don't even realize that it's you and oikawa until someone points it out.

"tooru, are you taking multiple photos or just one?" you try not to move your lips too much when you speak, uncertain of when he's going to snap a pic. "you trained me well." tooru whines. "obviously, i'm taking several at once." "and make sure the lighting is good!" you remind him. "it doesn't matter how i take the photos, baby. you're still going to look good in them, regardless." "aw... are you sweet talking me because some of the pictures are blurry?" when your boyfriend starts showering you with more compliments, you know the pics are definitely not going to be instagram-worthy. he's lucky he's so cute.

[clawsdevour]

hold the phone

wc: 0.8k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, osamu x reader, smut, osamu's on call with atsumu but also in you, mating press, not proof read

𓂅 ‧₊ ˚

osamu's large smoldering hands push behind your knees down closer to your chest, as if flattening you into a pancake. a mating press compacted under his large throbbing figure that reeked of lust the more osamu's cock shoves itself in and back out of your sopping cunt that yearned for more.

heaving moans being exchanged amidst the heat and built-up sexual tension in the air while the squelching sounds of your fluids combining rapidly grew louder by the second amongst your damp skin slapping against each other.

however, just when you felt him poke at your g-spot, a buzzing sound that vibrated in the sheets glowed a white screen under the thin fabric.

bzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzz..!

coming to a quick halt, slowing his strokes to become gradual and sensational pace as his rippling torso reaches to your side to check who's calling at this ungodly hour.

"should i pick up? it's my brother atsumu, ugh what does he want?" he groaned in exhaustion, showing you atsumu's contact ringing in the palm of his hand.

"yeah but make it quick 'samu.." you cooed out, eyebrows furrowed as his throbbing cock continued to leisurely move in and out of your overstimulated slick folds.

"m'kay," osamu's husky deep voice trailed along with a slight smirk creasing on the right corner of his mouth, a finger in the middle of his lips subtly signifying you to be quiet.

pressing the receive button with his large thumb, then the speaker icon. osamu's bringing his cell closer to his ear, placing it in the crook of his neck supported by his broad shoulder.

"y'er on speaker," averting his eyes back onto the holy sight under his muscular stature, returning a hand back under your knee with the other drawing tiny circles on your pulsating slippery clit.

"'samu..!" you discreetly squeaked out when you felt his fiery imprints on you.

osamu's looking down on you with his droopy sinful eyes, the plastered smirk on his lips spreading to the ends of his face when he started to slowly click his hips with yours, your hands finding their way to your face to block out any noise that'd soon escape from your lips.

"did my package get to y'er address by any chance? it said it was delivered, but i ain't see it at all," hearing his twin on the other side of the call.

"mm.. it might've. i can check after i'm done with what i'm doin'," a chillingly calm response to suppress his grunting.

"aight, just let me know if it came. i'll head over tomorrow mornin' to pick it up," listening to atsumu sigh before a shuffling noise, thinking he's about to hang up.

"soo.. 'samu, how's ya girl been?" questioning his twin with a playful tone, almost taunting him.

it's like that question made osamu harder. just the bare thought alone of watching you get stuffed full of him whilst having a conversation on the side ignited something in him. it just made osamu want to tease you even more.

"goin'– ...great" osamu visibly grunts, hoping the audio caught onto atsumu's end, "she's with me right now actually.. d'ya wanna say hi to her?"

eyes widening in shock as your jaw dropped when you hear osamu suggest that you say hi. making out a 'sure!' from the other end of the line, osamu's releasing his grip on the back of your knee to bring his phone closer to your mouth.

"h-hey..! how you been atsumu..!" you breathed out, trying to steady your heart that raced out of your chest despite osamu's thrusts starting to increase in speed.

"what's good, is 'samu treating ya like royalty?" atsumu joked, replying with a simple, "mhm–!"

shit. you just accidentally let a moan slip by on speaker. looking up at your boyfriend in a blazing red shade, he's got the biggest grin on his face from how flustered you are before taking the phone back.

"sorry 'tsumu, we're in the middle of something. pick it up in the mornin', yeah?" immediately coming to a close to finish what he started.

tossing his phone back into the tangled crinkled sheets, he's going at you with full force making you yelp out loud from the sudden change in pace.

osamu's hot face peppers your pink complexion with his gentlest kisses like a reward. moving down to press sloppy wet hickeys on your neck while you whimpered in pleasure.

"so that's why y'all was acting weird.." atsumu loudly gasped despite being muffled in with the sheets.

osamu forgot to press the end call button.

masterlist here