calliopeskiss-blog

[calliopeskiss-blog]

Custom Pottery

Osamu Miya x Reader (with some smau)

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Hello everyone this is my first post so I'm not quite experienced in making my posts pretty yet so bare with me as i learn. Also English is not my first language, sorry for the grammar and spelling.

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The small bell rang as the door of my pottery shop swung open and revealed a tall brown-haired man. 

"Hello." The unknown man spoke, "Hi, how can I help you today?" The overused greeting engrained in my mind blurted out of my mouth like usual. He walked up to the counter, and to be honest, I was astonished at how he was my exact type. "I'd like to commission around 20 sushi plates with a custom design," he says weirdly fast. "Woah, sir, slow down; we'd have to have a consultation about the design. When would you be free for that?" I inquired, "Sorry about that; when is the soonest we could have a consultation?" He questioned, "Right now is fine with me if it is with you." I smiled. "Yes, that works for me," he says robotically.

Osamu pov

"Are you okay?" she asks. The back of my neck starts to get sweaty because of her divine smile. "Uh yeah, I'm fine." "Okay, this way to my office, follow me." She led me to the second floor of her shop, where her office is.

Her office had a warm, welcoming aura—the same aura she produced—and a light, sweet scent of vanilla and strawberry lingered throughout. Different kinds of plants scatered around complementing the light blue walls. There were two small navy blue sofas facing each other with a glass coffee table in the middle, a desk and chair in the back of the room. There were trinkets and decor scatered all over the room, her desk, shelves, and coffee table. 

3d pov 

Osamu sat down in front of her as she placed a cup of tea in front of him. The tea cup was shaped like a flower, with the matching plate shapped like leaves.

"Here you go, Mr....?" She queried, "Miya, Osamu Miya." He answered, "Well, Mr. Miya." 20 sushi plates would take around a month to finish, but if you would like, you could pick up five plates at the end of each week. The price will be determined by the difficulty of the design, but the price will be pretty hefty either way, as one sushi plate is around 3,200 yen. Is that okay?" Y/N stated, "Yes, that should be fine, and I can pick up five at the end of each week. For the type of plate, I want the rectangle sushi plates with a designated corner for sauce, and for the design, I'd like to keep it simple with my restaurant name and logo in the corner."

They talked more about the design and glaze colours. The longer they talked, even if it was about business, he felt more and more flustered and even slightly euphoric yet comfortable. What a paradox. Osamu was to come back in three days to see the different samples and choose the final product. The moment he stepped out of the shop, a wash of relief came over him, as did the feeling of hunger. Not for food but for more of her—her voice, her smile, the way her laugh felt like what he'd imagine being addicted to heroin would be like. 

Osamu wanted her, more of her, all of her, so who's better to ask than his brother.

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