#~) m.osamu (~

[sunasilhouette]

masterlist

✖︎HASHTAGS! suna fic&hc reccs・suna aesthetic・suna thoughts・asks・

★彡one-shot fics:

「your intentions」 s.rintarou x f!reader

✧ summary:

what happens when a notorious manwhore, stoner, and player, encounters someone who doesn't seem all too interested.

or: you piss suna off so much that he wants you

「a timely bet」 s.rintarou x f!reader — writing in progress ⇒part.1

summary:

suna pisses you off during exam season and it was only right for you to get back at him. except, it backfires terribly.

or: can suna last a week of exams without having you?

「a beach way」 s.rintarou x f!reader x m.osamu — to be written

summary:

trying to co-wingman with suna for osamu on summer vacation doesn’t work out… well, there’s always room for one more.

or: sunarin, osamu 3some.

[shirabusworld]

HYDRANGEA , HAIKYUU

code : 𖤐 ( headcanons ), ϟ ( angst ), ʚɞ ( fluff ) !!

INARIZAKI

toxic traits - s.rintarou 𖤐

his goal - s.rintarou ʚɞ ϟ

↳ in which suna makes it his goal to win you over

strangers - s.rintarou ϟ

↳ in which suna thinks you two are better off as strangers

empty - s.rintarou ϟ

↳ in which suna hates the empty feeling down in his heart, but if it's for you, he'll act as if it's not there

a little too late - m.osamu ϟ

↳ in which osamu wishes he had a second chance to make you his

instruments they’d play - inarizaki 𖤐

KARASUNO

toxic traits - h.shouyo 𖤐

NEKOMA

brain rot - k.kenma 𖤐

FUKURODANI

toxic traits - a.keiji 𖤐

SHIRATORIZAWA

ABOA JOHSAI

FORGET ME NOTS…

haikyuu as tswift songs 𖤐

haikyuu as tswift songs 2 𖤐

[atleastido]

I’D WAIT FOR YOU - m.osamu

roommate au. fluff. sfw.

One of Osamu’s favourite things about living with you was getting to see you in the mornings.

Just as dawn begins to break and he waddles himself into the kitchen, the light blaring into his eyes doesn’t even bother him. He sees you, instead, standing at the stove with your breakfast cooking, face puffy and hair unkempt, but beautiful nonetheless.

He’s not too sure how he noticed it, but he thinks your eyelashes always look extra pretty in the mornings. Longer, softer, in a way that makes a gentle person look like a porcelain doll. Your movements are slow, and his eyes are trailing them as though they’re the best thing he’s ever watched. The sleeve of your jumper hangs loose on your arms, and it sends a strange, churning-like feeling to his stomach. You’d asked if it was his, and his sharp answer of no had almost left him red in the face, and you simply confused. Although you’ll never know, you look good in his hoodies, in a way that suits you a little too well.

And when you acknowledge the second presence in the kitchen, it seems like the only thing you’re wearing is a smile. Your grin is seeped with the leftover haze of your sleep, and your eyes look as though they’re shut, but he still believes it’s the brightest thing he’s ever seen.

Bright enough to make him crack a smile, warm enough to encourage him to walk over, inserting himself right beside you.

Admittedly, there’s not a load of counter space, but he grew up with a twin brother, and he’s an expert at sharing spaces meant for one. If you’re bothered by his presence, you don’t say anything, choosing to linger in the comfortable daze that has settled upon the two of you. He wonders if you can sense the way he searches for you in the corner of his eye, or if you can hear just how active his heart is in his chest for someone who’s just risen. 

As you reach over for the butter settled over on his side, his bare arm sets ablaze from where you brush over his skin. He feels like a school boy, hands clamming up on his chopsticks as he whisks a couple of eggs together, pretending his whole being did not just burn at your touch.

Seeing your meal complete, decorated neatly on a plate, a frown etches it’s way across his lips. He can’t help it, in fact, he’s completely and utterly unaware it’s even happened, but he’s so used to your warmth that he doesn’t want you to go. You’re the blanket on top of his quilt in the winter that makes it so hard to wake up, and he forces himself to resist the urge to pull you back to his body as you start to leave.

At the doorframe, you pause, plate in one hand and cutlery in the next. Slowly, you turn your head back, catching his gaze that has set so fondly on you.

“G’morning, ‘samu.” you whisper out, teeth peeking out from behind your lips as you flash him a smile. He can’t focus too much on that alone, the sound of your voice, raspy and gently still plagued with last night’s slumber.

He manages to reply with a small “Mornin’” of his own, watching as you make your way back to your room. Perhaps it’s selfish, a bitterness covering the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t think good is the right word to describe it.

For, if his morning were to be good, you’d be whispering that beside him, dressed in his clothes underneath his bedsheets. Your arms would be wrapped around his torso and his breath would be flittering over the bare skin of your neck as he whispers it back. He would be yours as you would be his and he wouldn’t have to stare at you as you leave, because you’d always be right beside him in the first place.

Simply, he does not believe a morning where you are so close yet not his can really be good, but for someone like you — someone like gold — he is more than willing to wait.

[karamfilmare]

Honestly thinking about how one of Osamu’s first tattoos is an onigiri… like it’s a cute reminder of what kind of food he’d find an interest in perfecting.

Also, I think ‘Samu goes to the same tattoo shop to get his piercings done…

He absolutely does, and each tattoo he gets, he makes SURE you notice them.

His favorite customer complimenting his tattoos and piercings? He's on a high for the rest of the day, the other employees noting the better mood he's in after seeing you for your regular stop.

When he gets his nipples pierced? He makes sure he wears the thinnest shirt he has to make sure the nipples appear more pronounced.

When you step through the door, Osamu's employees make the signal they unofficially coordinated for whenever you arrived, so that he could get you your usuals and personally hand them to you. Just as the food changes hands, Osamu decides to ask.

"So...notice anything different?"

"Different? Did you get new ink or something?"

"Not quite."

"Then what?"

"Why don't you look for yourself?"

Your eyes scour from his face down, as if you're trying to analyze every feature. Osamu's exterior appeared rather unbothered and cool, but deep down he was heating up—your beautiful eyes were looking intently at him.

You finally noticed the small, pronounced bumps peeking through his shirt, causing the blood to rush to your cheeks.

"So you've got your nipples pierced? That's cool!"

"yeah, I finally went through with it."

"you should make sure to let it heal properly before wearing tight clothing."

That response stops Osamu a bit, causing him to flush in embarrassment.

"ah, I was just a bit excited about them... don't worry, I'll uhh..."

You hand him the payment, a small giggle slipping out of you. Shaking your head, you reassure him that you were teasing.

"But hey, I'm glad you got them. I hope you have fun with them."

Osamu waves back, wishing you were the one who could have fun with them as well.

Jdkajfks sorry, I just had to write this out a bit. Thank you for seeing my thot, Osamu is so fine.

[karamfilmare]

@flycloudddd

He was supposed to buy groceries but ended up getting snacks only

[dreamesamu]

haikyuu boys in picking you up after work

– various characters x gn!reader | genre: fluff, headcanon

a/n: unedited stuff!

waiting for you at the bakery opposite your building

he notices that you are fond of the cakes in this coffee shop, in assuming so, a freshly baked slice of cake is there, sitting in front of him with two cups of coffee, waving at you smiling. respond to your hug, he kisses your cheek and endearingly stares at you munching on your favourite snack, small gestures like tucking your hair behind your ear or kissing your knuckles will cause you butterflies.

akaashi, oikawa, sugawara, yamaguchi

walk to your office just to walk you home

An athletic person and a lover boy like him will never complain about walking as long as you are worried just to fetch you home. He'll be excited to see you, hold and kiss your cheek or shush you gently "it's not a big deal, i'm doing my exercise, too" and share a headphone with your hand firmly in his.

hinata, kageyama, lev, hoshiumi

wait for you while doing his habit like reading a book, leaning against his car,...

This ideal type typically drive some human crazy because of the handsomeness they found in him, wondering why you're so lucky to have the prettiest person as a boyfriend, worse, he only care about you when his smile form up from seeing you, gentle forehead kisses, and his offer to carry your stuff.

kita, m.osamu, suna, kuroo, iwaizumi

clingy boys will give you lots of the attention to show the world that you're his

"here, let me hold your bag for you baby," "I missed you so much, you know that?" "Oh no no wait, you couldn't go out on a weather like this, please wear my jacket." He make your day a lot better without caring about what everyone is thinking, he loves you more than you love yourself. please return their love bc they deserve it.

bokuto, atsumu, hinata, tendo (when he's happy)

will volunteer to go even if you decline nicely his offer to pick you up

Don't be surprise if you walk out and see him sitting on a bench near by when you told him not to, your heart will be lighten up, he usually won't say anything else except "you can't go home alone, it's not safe" and will look after you until you reach home safe and sound.

sakusa, kenma, tsukishima, ushijima

© 2022 dreamesamu

[angelatsumu]

haikyuu.

mac's works for the haikyuu!! disclaimer: all works are post timeskip!hq and may be slightly ooc. [mac is self-indulgent but welcoming requests]

drabbles + multi <3

firefighter!hq [a mix of nsfw + sfw]

dumbification [atsumu, 'toshi, suna]

bent over lovers [shoyo, atsumu, koutaro]

cockwarming ['noya, koutaro, issei <3 ]

wedding vows [m.atsumu, k. tobio, u. a. keiji]

wedding songs [sakusa, atsumu, bokuto, wakatoshi]

how firefighters eat you [multi]

doing his eyeliner <3 [issei, satori, bokuto <3]

finding their s/o studying <3 [issei, bokuto, atsumu]

characters <3

i. hajime <3 | b. koutaro <3 | m. atsumu <3 | m.osamu <3

m. issei <3 | h. shoyo <3 | k. tetsuro <3 | t. satori <3

u. wakatoshi <3 | s. koushi <3 | s. kiyoomi <3 | o. tooru <3

t. kei <3

thanks for visiting <3 !

[omi-cafe-archived]

hi bestie! may i request ushi, atsumu and kuroo (i don't know your char limit so ushi and whoever you choose fit would be fine) becoming jealous after an outside team player flirts with yn? thanks ♡.

-🌴 anon if you accept it!

hello! 🌴 anon is yours!! thank you for requesting i hope you enjoy this even tho i switched it up a bit <3 also, thanks for reminding me to update the request guidelines on character limit lol

— characters: timeskip! ushijima wakatoshi, miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurou, bokuto koutaro (and others)

— warnings: timeskip spoilers!

— tags: fluff

masterlist - requests are open!

— U.WAKATOSHI he doesn’t get jealous easily, he thinks. he trusts you and he knows that you love him. it doesn’t actually hit him that this feeling twisting his heart is jealousy and he simply watches as bokuto from msby approaches you with a piece of paper in hand, smiling giddily.

you of course notice your boyfriend watching you like a hawk and you’re quick to reject bokuto’s attempt at giving you his number.

yet, it isn’t until wakatoshi feels you intertwine your fingers with his then he realizes that he had moved to stand next to you while glaring at the grey-haired man the entire time. it’s comical how his scary expression immediately softens and he’s beaming at you when you say, “hey babe.”

— M.ATSUMU for someone to even dare to flirt with his s/o, that person must either be seeking an early death or quite literally, unaware that you were atsumu’s s/o. so when kageyama tobio from schweiden adlers comes up to you, blushing profusely and stuttering about how he found you pretty, a jealous atsumu wasted no time in rushing to your side to pull you into his embrace and pressing the loudest smooch directly against your lips, sounding out a ‘mwah’ as he pulls away.

you’re mortified as you break apart from the kiss, unable to meet anyone’s eyes after that blatant display. yet your boyfriend looks unfazed— proud even, as he puffs out his chest and smirks at tobio.

“what’re you still standing around for?”

— M.OSAMU unlike his brother, osamu isn’t one for embarrassing public displays of affection. instead, he settles for blocking your line of sight and intentionally butting himself into the conversation as he shielded you from tendou satori who was simply recommending chocolates to you. though, coupled by a few misplaced jokes that sounded more like pick-up lines. a jealous osamu simply makes sure that no one, except him, gets to have your attention.

“samu, i can’t reach the chocolates.”

“what was that? chocolate onigiri? yeah, i’ll make some for you.”

— K.TETSUROU jealous? him? nah, he’s above that… not. when kuroo spots you in a distance waiting for him he’s jogging over to you immediately, a smile already etched onto his face. yet, he spots you being cornered against the wall as terushima yuji flirts with you, and you’re laughing! his smile falls off his face as jealousy begins to eat away at him. he doesn’t really care that there are other people around, he’s marching straight over and pulling you out of the situation, holding you close to him as he stares down the blonde. his expression however, immediately changes into one of pure smugness as you greet him by pulling him down by his tie to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“do it again.”

“tetsu… are you jealous?”

“ha! why would i be?”

— B.KOUTARO so clingy. when he gets jealous, be prepared to have bokuto glued to you for the rest of the day. it’s more than obvious that bokuto has a s/o, and that s/o being you. after all, he brags about you so much you’d have better luck winning the lottery than finding someone who didn’t recognise you as bokuto’s s/o.

you immediately knew something was up when tsukishima kei walks up to you and asks you to pretend he just said a funny joke. it’s puzzling but you agree and pretend to laugh as if he’s the funniest person on earth. of course your laughter catches bokuto’s attention and his head is whipping towards your direction.

he actually becomes so sad that he’s not privy to whatever funny joke you just heard that he barely realises that he’s more jealous of the fact that kei is gradually coming closer to you.

it takes him a few more seconds to sort out his emotions and he’s sprinting over and throwing himself at you.

so dramatic.

but he’ll be fine if you let him cling to you and give him the occasional headpat.

“by the way, what did tsukki tell you earlier? was it that funny?”

“oh, it’s nothing. he just mentioned being unable to sleep soundly at night because of a certain owl.”

[ahtsumu]

long shots ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: miya osamu is the teacher’s assistant for food chemistry i. you can’t stop thinking about him.

tag(s): college!au, slow burn, TA!miya osamu, grad student!reader, fluff, reader is a go-getter!! ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, talk of insecurities and imposter syndrome ; wc: 5.6k

a/n: happy birthday to @starrysamu​! i love u. pls excuse any errors. i’ll weed them out later! btw this fic is not a sugar daddy au LOL

HIS NAME IS Miya Osamu and he always looks like he has it all figured out. Comes in every class with his black hair perfectly tousled, the sleeves of his dark button-up rolled to his elbows, a cup of coffee in one hand and the strap of that black messenger bag in another.

“He drives a BMW, did ya know?” Isla says in your ear one morning. Your only friend in Food Chemistry I gives you a pointed look before sitting back in her chair in the lecture hall with a smirk on her face. “Saw it this morning. Bet he’s loaded.” The two of you watch the subject in question walk across the classroom and settle in his seat at the table in the corner.

“Shut up,” you whisper with wide eyes. A grin–– far from innocent–– makes its way onto your face. “Imagine being Miya Osamu’s sugar baby.”

“He’s not old enough to be a sugar daddy.” Isla looks at her nails disinterestedly. “And that’s too many AUs in one. He’s already the TA, for god’s sake. This isn’t some shitty Wattpad novel.”

A light giggle slips out of your lips. “I can see the title already. My Sugar Daddy is the TA?!”

Now, if anyone had been listening in on your conversation, they would’ve assumed many things about you. The first being that you’re both gold-diggers. This is untrue–– at least, in your case. Isla, you’re not so sure about, given how your friendship only goes back about one month. But she tags you in memes on Instagram so maybe it’s as real as real gets. Their second assumption would be that you have a big fat crush on your TA. That one’s complicated, mostly because it’s true, but only kinda. It all started in the second week of school when Isla caught you staring at Osamu and slipped you a post-it note with both your initials encircled in a heart. And, because you’re shameless with a good sense of humour, you made a show of kissing it while she was looking. And thus began your meaningless but incredibly entertaining, satirical, co-written fantasy about Miya Osamu.

It also didn’t help that on the first essay you got back, Isla’s paper had been marked up with “are you sure?”s and “this is a jump”s, while yours had “excellent reasoning” and “insightful analysis”. You’d even gotten a little comment at the bottom: y/n, fantastic work. you should speak up in class more often. –– OM

But Miya Osamu doesn’t play favourites because the next week you’d gotten another essay back, this time with another comment at the bottom: y/n, not your best work. you could’ve done better by connecting your first paragraph with the second using grant’s reading. conclusion lacked punch, too. all the best. –– OM

Every time you’d read the words scrawled in blue ink, you’d felt a pair of eyes on you. But you chalk it up to Osamu being a careful grader. A good TA. Someone who cares about his students.

Isla calls bullshit on that. You’re not really sure how to feel about her stance.

The classroom door opens and shuts again. You don’t have to look at your phone to know that it’s nine on the dot. Instead, you and Isla straighten your backs, pull out your notebooks, and focus. Your no-nonsense professor says “good morning” in her usual perky manner before jumping right into her keynote presentation.

“Did you all find the reading okay?” Professor Lee asks an hour into the lecture.

A chorus of “yes”s fill the air. You bite your lip, wondering if revealing that you didn’t understand shit will out you as the class idiot. Or maybe your silence is telling enough–– maybe the people in the seats beside you have noticed the grimace on your face and are having thoughts like ‘gee whiz, am I glad I’m not dumb like her’. Heat rushes to your cheeks. Sometimes you really wonder if you’re smart enough to be here. Occurrences like these do nothing to dispel your insecurities.

You vaguely hear her ask something like, “Any thoughts about the reading?” It’s not that you’re actually dumb. It’s just that this class is ridiculously hard for an introductory course, even for a graduate programme. From the start of the semester til now, fifteen people have dropped the class. There’s just twenty of you left. Guess a ridiculously hot TA can’t save a course’s drop-rate.

Before you can make your mind up on what to say, your professor moves on from her question.

As you look off to the side of the room for a break from your thoughts, you find a pair of blue-grey eyes pointed in your direction.

Everything about you, from the expression on your face to the way your muscles tense, makes you look like a deer caught in headlights–– even though he was the one caught staring in the first place. So maybe your shamelessness works on a scale.

Miya Osamu lifts one corner of his mouth.

And as if the exchange hadn’t happened at all, he looks back down at his laptop and continues typing.

The rest of the lecture goes through one ear and out the other.

“Everyone, I believe Osamu has something he wants to say,” Professor Lee says as everyone begins packing their bags.

The raven-haired TA slides out of his seat and sits on top of his desk. “Yeah.” Osamu clears his throat and crosses his arms over his chest. You notice how the muscles in his arms bulge from the movement.

“Whipped,” Isla mutters, grinning mischievously.

“Him for me,” you whisper back, though your eyes do travel back to his face where they should’ve been all along. Osamu catches your gaze and holds it. And then he looks away again.

“Now, I know you’re all Nobel prizewinners in the making,” he begins, garnering a round of snickers and giggles from your classmates. Most people say that cliques dissolve in college. That there’s no such thing as popularity amongst graduate students. That much, you agree with. But no one ever said anything about popular teacher’s assistants. Especially smart, attractive, witty teacher’s assistants like Miya Osamu. “But in case you didn’t understand the reading or would like to develop a deeper understanding of it, don’t hesitate to email me. I’ll try to host a review session all of us can attend.”

Professor Lee smiles appreciatively at Osamu, adding, “That’s a wonderful idea, Osamu. Guys, please take this opportunity if you struggled with the reading. I know eighty pages is a lot, but our next three classes are structured around the concepts in the reading and the mid-term next week will almost exclusively be about it, too.”

Well, shit.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

Hi Osamu,

I was wondering if I could get some help with the reading from last class. To be frank, I couldn’t make it past page 15 and I’m lost like a snot-faced five-year-old in a shopping mall on Black Friday. Sorry. Thanks in advance!

Regretfully,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

no problem. is 5 pm tomorrow at jack’s okay? we start on the concepts from the reading next class so i want to get you up to speed asap. let me know. thanks.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

It’s five minutes to five when you pull into the parking lot of Jack’s Diner. The shiny, retrofuturistic eatery is a university favourite but the empty parking lot tells you it’s completely deserted right now (and rightfully so–– who eats dinner before six?). The black BMW parked a few spots from your car, however, says that you’re not alone.

Osamu’s figure comes into view as you reach for the handle to the front door of Jack’s. The twenty-six-year-old sits by himself at one of the bright red tables in the back, typing away on his dark grey laptop.

His head lifts up at the sound of the opening door. Osamu calls out your name and waves you over.

“Hi,” you greet with a smile, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.”

You look around before leaning forward on the table. “Is anyone else coming?”

“No.” Osamu sits back in his seat. “I thought about hosting one big group, but then I realised that it’d probably be stressful for the staff here.” He nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “And I had a hunch that everyone would have different questions. Forcing everyone to review concepts they already know is a waste of time.”

At first, you nod. That makes sense. But then you furrow your brows. “So how long have you been here?”

Osamu blinks. He hadn’t expected you to ask about him. “Hmm? Oh.” He taps his phone to check the time. “Just a while.”

Quirking a brow, you ask, “And how long is ‘a while’ to you?”

“Seven hours,” he admits, chuckling lightly when he sees your jaw drop. “A lot of people had questions. They just don’t act like they do. Anyway, time flies. Really, it does.” Quickly, he clears his throat and sits forward. “So, about your email.” He grins. “Not sure if you meant it to be funny, but it was.”

“I’m glad my distress was entertaining for you. Do you TA just to watch grad students suffer?”

“Perks of the job,” Osamu says. His grin widens when you giggle. He’s never heard you laugh before and he realises at that moment that it’s really nice. And then that same grin falters. Gracefully, of course, and imperceptibly to you. But not to him. Is it okay for him to be… thinking things like that? About a student? But you’re not really his student since he’s just the TA. Right? Osamu ignores the weird feeling that comes over him and clasps his hands together at the edge of his laptop. “Back to your email. Can ya tell me what you’re confused about?”

Three hours and two Impossible Burgers later, you suddenly understand everything about food molecules so well that you wonder why you’d even been confused in the first place. But besides that, you’ve also picked up things about Osamu. As a person and not an idea. Not that you’d been actively searching for fun facts about your TA. But they’d stuck to your brain like gum at the bottom of a desk. He likes to slip sarcastic quips into a conversation every now and then. Eats burgers upside down (“The right way,” as he’d said, smirking). Is friendlier than he looks.

“You’re really good at explaining things,” you comment as Osamu shuts his laptop closed.

“Well, I kinda have to be,” he says. And maybe it’s the mental fatigue catching up on him or the fact that he’s real fond of the reason why he can break big concepts down into morsels but suddenly, the rest of his thoughts spill out his mouth like wine. “I have a twin brother with potato salad for brains.”

“Oh?”

And before he can stop himself, he tells you about Miya Atsumu, the pro-athlete you’ve definitely heard of but never gave too much thought. And then you hold onto the fact that they were both on the volleyball team and you ask of which school, so then he tells you about Inarizaki, the high school he attended, and then his decision not to go pro to go to college, and then––

“Sorry,” he laughs, cheeks turning pink. “You probably didn’t need to hear all that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say–– and you mean it. “Your life is interesting.”

Osamu leans back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure yours is, too.” He holds your gaze like it’s the key to your presence. It’s an invitation. The kind that comes from people who don’t really know if they want you around but also don’t want you gone.

You take it.

Osamu shouldn’t–– he really shouldn’t–– but he wonders about the things you didn’t tell him the entire drive home.

Isla laughs when you tell her about what happened at Jack’s. You lay in bed with your phone next to you on speaker, your face turned on your pillow so that you’re staring out the window at the city below.

“He wants you,” she sings.

“Or he was just being nice.”

“Methinks not!” Isla giggles. “He’s intrigued, girl! You’re like that cute little new mystery in his life and he just wants to get to know you.”

“I think he was just being polite.”

“Or he’s crushing on you!”

“In your dreams.”

“You mean yours? Boo, you’re no fun today. Usually, you go along with the jokes.” Isla’s tone is playful on the surface but full of implications.

A few silent seconds pass. Yeah, you think, agreeing. I do.

“Girl,” Isla drags out the word in a high pitch, saying it like a scientist says ‘eureka’. “You’re not playing along anymore because it’s real now. You're actually catching feelings!”

“Am not!” you laugh.

“The Y/N I knew would’ve said ‘nah, bitch, he’s catching feelings�� and I think that says all there is to say.”

“Okay, I think he’s cute but it’s not a crush,” you concede, grinning. “And he’s the TA, Isles. It’d never happen.”

“Not while he’s still a TA in a class you take.”

“Isla.”

“Ask him out once this semester ends! Unless you’re chicken.”

“I’m not asking him out.”

“Knew you were––”

“Have you seen me? He’s asking me out.”

Miya Osamu walks through the door at eight-fifty as usual that next morning, dressed in his usual button-up, holding his usual cup of coffee. But this time, as the rest of his tall frame passes through the doorway, Osamu’s eyes subtly scan the faces in the lecture hall, lingering for just a while over yours. The corners of your lips turn up. You hope he saw that.

“Bitch!” Isla whisper-screams. The students sitting around you turn around at the noise and grin at each other when they realise it’s just Isla being… well, Isla. She shoos them away jokingly.

“What?” you whisper back.

“Care to explain why our TA was literally eye-fucking you?”

“That was hardly eye-fucking,” you retort. “Maybe like an eye-handshake.”

“Yeah, a naked eye-handshake where his thang is handshaking your––”

He does it again the next class.

And the next.

And then he doesn’t. Miya Osamu walks through the door to Food Chemistry I at eight-fifty in the morning in a navy blue button-up with a cup of coffee in his hand and looks through the rows of seats in the lecture hall for your face, only to find it missing.

He debates pressing the matter.

To: m.osamu@hqu.edu

hey osamu,

i wasn’t in class today because i’ve been sick with the flu (no big deal, just feel like i’m dying). a classmate sent me pictures of the slides from today so i think i should be fine, but is it okay if i email you with any questions? thank you very much!

miserably,

Y/N

MS Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

From: m.osamu@hqu.edu

y/n,

of course. sorry to hear that you’re sick. let me know if i can do anything to help you. the midterm is next week. get well soon.

OM

PhD Candidate

College of Agriculture and Life Sciences

Haikyuu University

“You writing that the midterm is next week did not offer me any peace of mind, by the way,” you say, spinning around in your chair as Miya Osamu enters your pod in the library.

He offers you a wry grin. “Hello to ya, too.”

“Was that an accent?” You thought you’d heard one at Jack’s, but you couldn’t be sure because it’d been so spotty.

Osamu slips into the seat beside yours and pulls out the laptop in his messenger bag. You catch a whiff of his cologne–– something spicy and woody, but clean. It suits him. “Nice catch. Yeah, I speak a regional dialect. Took me a while to smooth it over but it still resurfaces every now and then.”

“Why?”

“It just didn’t seem fitting for a PhD candidate, I guess,” Osamu explains, opening the slides from the class you missed. A day after your initial exchange, you’d emailed him again (with a much clearer mind) and asked if he could go over the slides with you in person.

i literally feel like i’ve been given the homework from russian lit, you’d written. except the russian has been translated to hieroglyphs and my task is to choreograph an interpretive dance based on the hieroglyphs.

Osamu had snickered when he saw your email. that doesn’t even make sense. must be the fever talking, he’d been tempted to write. But that strange feeling had come over him again, the one that’d screamed at him to keep it professional, goddamnit, so he’d played it safe instead and sent is eight pm at the main library okay? He hates that you’re getting a watered-down version of his personality. Osamu swears he’s a lot more interesting when he’s not, well, a TA.

“I think it’s fine,” you say, smiling. “I like it. It’s you.” And suddenly, you’re wondering if it’s okay to be complimenting your TA. If it’s okay to say that you like things about him, or if that crosses some grey, unclear line. Is it weird to treat your TAs like they’re your friends? It’s not like TAs are real teachers. Right?

A grin–– wide and genuine and almost excited–– grows on Osamu’s face. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes flit over to the laptop screen. “Thanks. Really.”

You nod. But you feel like there’s more that he might want to say, so you wait.

“I got a lot of shit for it when I came here for my master’s, y’know. Not to my face, of course, but people would refer to me as ‘the guy with the accent’. A professor once said it made me seem crass. Said it’d hold me back in my career.”

“So you changed.”

“Adapted,” Osamu corrects. “It’s hard to admit but conforming is sometimes all you can do when you don’t have the power to change the system. Can’t really make everyone suddenly respect a dialect.”

“And after you’re finished with your PhD, you’ll go back to speaking in that dialect?”

Osamu looks out the window and smiles, probably imagining the plans he’s already made about the future. “Yeah.”

“What if you have to speak the standard language at your job? Like, your boss is all, ‘hey man, if you don’t speak––”’

“I’ll be the boss.”

“Oh?”

And with a little more prodding, Miya Osamu tells you about the restaurant chain he plans on opening after graduation, the slides about food additives left completely untouched.

The librarian knocks on your pod a few minutes before eleven to tell you they’re closing.

“Shit,” Osamu murmurs, running his hands through his hair. You’re still laughing about something he’d said before the librarian interrupted him–– one of his stories from high school–– and he thinks that you’ve completely forgotten that the reason you came to the library was to catch up on the material you were already behind on. And now you’re behind on that. But you look so carefree right now and, actually, you’re very pretty and you’ve got such a good heart and it’s a lot for him to process but he knows he just wants to see you happy a while longer. So Osamu just slumps back in his chair and laughs along with you.

He says your name as his chuckles grow softer. “It’s pretty late. How’re you getting home?”

“I’ve a bike,” you reply. It’s good for the environment and is a pretty solid form of exercise if you do say so yourself. Sometimes you just don’t feel like driving. 

Osamu presses his lips in a thin line. Would it be too much to offer you a ride? “I can drive you home. It’s really not safe for you to be alone outside, especially near midnight. You can get your bike tomorrow. Or I’ll get it for you.”

He drives fast. Not the unsafe fast that speed demons drive at, but the kind of fast where you know he’s got some edge to his character. You bring it up to him–– especially since it’s nighttime, for god’s sake, he could hit something–– and all he does is remind you how there are lamps as bright as the sun lining the entire road to your dorm. And the fact that you live in the least accessible dorm on campus.

“A twenty-minute drive?” he’d exclaimed when he saw the GPS monitor.

“A bunch of roads are closed for construction. It’s a ten-minute bike-ride because I can cut through campus.” And suddenly feeling a little burdensome, you’d added, “Sorry. I can still bike––”

“No.” He’d held his hand out in front of you, gesturing for you to stay in the passenger’s seat. “It’s not a bother at all.” Because it wasn’t. Osamu was… happy. Not that he’d admit that.

“So this BMW,” you start in a teasing tone.

Osamu smirks. “A gift.”

“Can I guess from who?”

“Sure.”

“Atsumu.”

His brows rise. “Colour me impressed.” He hadn’t expected you to remember anything he’d said about Atsumu. Or maybe he had but told himself otherwise to lower his hopes.

“I’m smart like that.”

He snorts. “Not if you keep distracting me and using your review time to…” hang out with me, get to know me, tell me things about you… “…goof off.”

You grimace. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Osamu makes a turn down a familiar street. It dawns upon you that you're ten minutes away from your dorm and suddenly you wish he’d just make the wrong turn at the next intersection so that you could talk to him some more. It can even be about the health benefits of fish or the molecular makeup of kale–– you don’t mind. You just want to be around him longer.

“I think you’re really smart,” Osamu says quietly. “I think you’re not processing the readings because you’re distracted, or just not fully applying yourself. Obviously, last class’s slides are a different thing, since you were absent. But you really are smart. I’ve seen your papers.”

You bite your lip to hide your grin, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “Thank you.” You look out the window, too jacked on dopamine to think straight. “I think I still need you, though.”

And that innocuous little sentence floats right out your mouth into the air, settling between you like a little wedge before either of you even realise it. Neither of you says anything. You marinate in the awkwardness before stuttering out a clarification. “To, um, to explain things. Y’know, since you’re, uh, so good at… explaining things.”

Osamu clears his throat and chuckles stiffly. There’s a slightly pink tinge to his cheeks. “Thanks,” he says, looking straight ahead. He can’t even look at you. Fuck. It’s so awkward. “I’ll try to keep… explaining things.” Fuck. What does that even mean?

A few uncomfortable minutes pass in silence. The night can’t end like this, you think. It can’t when everything else had gone so well. You still have to see him for a few more months. “Did you know,” you start, catching Osamu’s attention, “that Jack’s Diner has a location in Italy?”

“Oh?” he asks, making the final turn to the street where your dorm is. He actually hadn’t.

“Yeah. I asked the owner about the chain a while back. Have you ever been to Italy?”

Osamu shakes his head. “I’ve been to Paris, though. To see a friend. He’s a chocolatier.”

Now, if Osamu had been your friend, you would’ve said something like well, let’s go to Italy together, except he’s not. He’s your TA and you’ve been reminded that enough tonight. So instead, you say, “When you open that restaurant of yours in Italy, let me know.”

“That’s gonna take a while,” he laughs. He appreciates how you said ‘when’, though. And he tucks that little bit of confidence you have in him somewhere deep in his mind so that it doesn’t get lost.

“Isn’t that just seven hours?” you shrug, grinning. Osamu’s BMW pulls up outside your dorm and parks as he marvels at what you just said. You’re amazing. You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face your driver.

“Thank you for driving me,” you say, offering him a smile.

“Yeah,” he replies.

You stretch out your hand. With a puzzled look on his face, Osamu grabs it and shakes it. Firmly. You can’t help but notice how nice his hands are. Calloused for sure, but they feel nice.

“Goodnight, Osamu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

He watches you jog into the building before driving away. And it’s like you’ve possessed his car or something because the smell of your shampoo and perfume is everywhere and it’s too much but it’s also not enough at the same time and he can feel your palm against his as he spins the steering wheel to make a turn and for the first time in his life he doesn’t turn on the radio to fill the silence in his car. Osamu replays everything you said in his head.

But he especially thinks about that part where you said you need him.

Weeks melt into months. You turn in essays after essays for Food Chemistry I, each coming back with detailed commentary in an all-too-familiar blue scrawl. All your other classes go well–– extremely well, actually. You might just end the semester with a 4.0 if Food Chem doesn’t fuck you over. Isla still tags you in memes on Instagram. You still tell her about everything that happens with Osamu.

Speaking of.

“That’s the wrong equation,” he says behind your ear as he settles in the seat beside you. The sound of his low voice so close to your ear sends a small shiver down your spine. “You gotta switch the hydrogens.” Osamu knocks on your skull lightly. “What’s goin’ on up in there? Ya got somethin’ on your mind?”

You laugh and elbow him in the side. “Shut up, ‘Samu.” He’d told you during one of his office hours that he’d gone by that nickname because he had a teammate with a foreign name in high school. It sounded so cool, he’d said, grinning.

I think Osamu sounds pretty cool already, you’d teased.

And he’d replied, Let’s trade. I like yours, you like mine, why not share?

You teeter on the line between friends and less-than-friends and, oddly enough, more-than-friends. Sometimes you still play it safe. Sometimes he pauses between texts and real-time conversations, no doubt to scrap an instinctive reply for something more “professional”. Sometimes you say things that make him look at you with the ghost of a smile at the corners of his lips. Sometimes he calls Atsumu to scream about you.

“S’not a no,” Osamu points out. He’s dressed in a black sweater and grey trousers today. You’re suddenly reminded of how the weather’s been getting colder when someone opens the door to the university café and lets in a gust of chilly autumn air.

“Okay,” you admit, setting down the pencil. “I just… don’t really feel prepared for this next test.”

Osamu frowns and looks down at your worksheet. “Your process is correct, though.”

“Right, but… I don’t know. I’ve just not been feeling great about myself lately,” you laugh, looking down at your feet. “Food Chem’s the toughest class I’ve ever taken. And remember how I completely embarrassed myself in that class discussion last week? It’s not really making me feel like I belong here.”

“Imposter syndrome,” Osamu remarks.

“Correct-o.”

He says your name softly and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Maybe you’re not the smartest, but you’re definitely smart. And you belong here. I’ve seen your papers. They’re just as great as anyone else’s and I don’t hand out compliments for nothin’. You’re gonna do some great things but ya can’t improve if you ever give up.” Osamu searches your eyes for a sign of your understanding.

There’re a lot of things you want to say but you don’t know how to put them into words. “Can I hug you?” you finally ask.

Osamu doesn’t even think about it. “Of course.”

He feels you smile against his chest and wonders if you can feel his heart beat faster.

Isla camps out in your dorm as finals come around the corner.

“I don’t understand shit!” she wails, throwing her notebook into the air.

“Isles, it’s okay,” you laugh, slipping out of your chair and walking over to her nest in the corner. “You gotta chill, dude.”

“Not fair! I didn’t have a hunk holding my hand through this course all semester,” she retorts, humour glittering in her dark eyes. “I had the Organic Chemistry Tutor and his accent’s cute enough but, girl, you had Miya Fucking Osamu!”

“You’re literally the worst.” You giggle and sit down beside her. “Tell me what you’re confused about. I’ll try to explain it to you.” The way Osamu does.

You text him that you’d channelled his brains later that night.

His reply comes seconds later. all you, einstein.

From: osamu

good luck on the exam

you’re going to kill it

To: osamu

would u like to divulge any… information about it? 😏 😏 😏

From: osamu

bye

To: osamu

i was kidding :(

From: osamu

fine. tip #1: write your name

To: osamu

not very helpful. 0/10

From: osamu

keep running your mouth and 0/10 is what your score’s going to be

i’m kidding

you got this, y/n

“Holy fuck,” Isla groans as you cross the street to head to lunch at Jack’s. “If you don’t see me next semester it’s because I’ve gotten my grade back and decided to drop out.”

“What would you do?” you ask, amused.

“Maybe move to New Zealand. Raise some sheep. Marry a hot, blond shepherd and fuck off to a cliffside cottage.”

“Solid plan.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“What about me?”

“Remember that conversation we had at the start of the year? About your man?” The two of you reach another red light for pedestrians.

“We’re friends. He’s not my man,” you laugh. Though it pains you to. Something about being Miya Osamu’s friend doesn’t really sit right with you, but you don’t know how to not be his friend. You don’t know how to move out of the corner you’ve backed yourself into.

“But you wish he were! And now you can finally hit him with that ‘Hey, Osamu, I’ve been madly in love with you since the start of the semester, wanna fuck like rabbits and then open that store in Italy?’ and he’ll be all––”

A throat clears behind you. With wide eyes, the two of you turn around.

Holy fuck.

Miya Osamu stands behind you with his hands in his pockets and an enormous smirk on his face.

“He’ll be all what?” he asks, eyes fixed on you.

Isla murmurs an excuse and starts walking on her own to Jack’s.

“Um.” You swallow nervously and shrink in your coat. “You heard all of that, right?”

“Yep.” Osamu grins. He grins. He’s grinning. He’s smiling like he’s won the fucking lottery and you honestly don’t know what to do with that information.

“So, like,” you look down at the sidewalk and kick at a pebble, “what are your thoughts about that?” God, you could die. “‘Cause I know you’re a TA and it’d probably look pretty bad and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you because I like you and it’s cool if we just…”

Osamu interrupts you with a laugh. “My thoughts,” he says, “are that I want to kiss you.” His fingers lift your chin up. “What are your thoughts about that?”

Well, shit. “I think that’s pretty cool, yeah,” you breathe, eyelids fluttering shut as his face comes closer to yours.

He tastes like mint. And his lips move softly, slowly against yours like he’s savouring the moment. And then you feel his hands snake around your waist to pull you closer–– closer because you both are tired of forcing the distance between bodies that want to be near each other, closer because he’s thought about kissing you just like this for so long, closer because you remember the last time he’d touched you was three days ago and it was just a brush of his fingers against your arm and that feeling of wanting more haunted you for the entire night. But holy shit, Miya Osamu is kissing you. He’s kissing you.

And then he pulls away. His dark eyes flit over yours. “I,” he breathes, “I need your course load next semester.”

“What?” you ask, disbelief written all over your features, chest rising and falling as you try to steady your breathing. You just kissed, for God's sake, and he's––

“I need to know which courses not to apply to TA for,” he grins, cupping your face in his hands. “Can’t be teachin’ in a class with my girlfriend as a student.”

“So we’re official?” you ask, beaming.

“If you want,” Osamu replies with a smirk.

You grab the front of his coat and tug him down for another kiss. “Hell yeah, I want to be official.”

[tsumtsumland]

the perfect blend| m.osamu x reader

genre: fluff I'm your secret santa! <3 sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy this l

warnings: none

a/n: surprise @ara-mitsue I'm your secret santa! <3 sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy this fluffy bit! This fic is a part of @momochimo 's Dear Santa-san Fic Exchange 2021!

wc: 3.1k

The wind was sharp and cold, whipping across your exposed cheeks as you trudge through the snow making your way towards the small coffee shop on campus. You let out a sigh of relief when you walk through the doors of the cozy little shop, and the warmth of the heaters filtered through your frozen fingers. The heavenly smell of caffeine sent a shock through your system, waking you up properly. You check your watch and smile a little that you’re on time, 6:30am.

The coffee shop was small but almost always packed to the brim with people. At this early hour there wasn’t much people, and you prefer it that way. You always try to make it between 6 and 6:30 so you could mentally prepare yourself for your 7am lecture… and so you could stare at the cute barista. He always worked the morning shift, and it was extra incentive for you to come on time. He was actually proving to be a good distraction for you, getting you to class on time and all.

You shake the snow out of your hair and pat it down, hoping to look at least somewhat presentable before speaking to the handsome boy at the register. He was the only one there until 7:30 when two other workers came in. You savour the time you get to watch him in his element, crafting cappuccinos, whipping up lattes, and making foam art. He always looked so carefree and happy doing it, the small smile never leaving his handsome face.

However, the truth is you’ve never actually said more than a few words to Osamu. The majority of those being your order and a ‘thank you’ when you collect it. The reason being, you were a lot of things but delusional was not one of them. Osamu was one of the most popular boys at your college, everyone knew him, he was the vice-captain of the volleyball team, now a senior, Marketing major, part-timer at the coffee shop, helpful, kind, smart and gorgeous. You knew you didn’t stand a chance; this was the closest you’d ever get to him so you took it.

“One small, black coffee please,” you place your order, grateful that you didn’t stutter this morning. It happens more often that you’d like to admit considering that you were a Communication major.

Osamu looks up with that small smile that always made his grey eyes seem to light up. “No milk and no sugar, yeah?” he asks as he scribbles your name on a cup. You nod mutely, still internally swooning.

Osamu glances at you and takes notice of a few stray snowflakes in your hair. He wanted so badly to just brush them away, but he knows that would be highly inappropriate and weird since you two barely had a proper conversation. He was familiar with you now, since you came in every morning, at the same time, and ordered the exact same thing. He wasn’t even sure why you did either, because he caught you on multiple occasions taking a few sips of the coffee and then dumping it.

You slide your money over to him and snatch your hand back a little too quickly when his warm fingers brush against your cold ones. You mumble a quick apology, face burning up in embarrassment, and quickly move down the counter to wait for your coffee.

Osamu turns away quickly after cashing for your drink so you wouldn’t see his pink cheeks. He was taken aback by the fact that he was actually blushing, sure he’d had a crush on you for a while but you paid literally no attention to him apart from ordering your coffee. You never tried to initiate any conversation apart from that, even on the occasions when it was just the both of you in the shop. He sighs quietly, brushing away his thoughts, and busies himself with making your coffee.

“Idiot,” you mutter to yourself, just wanting to facepalm onto the counter right then and there.

“Who is?” comes a voice from next to you making you jump in surprise.

You jumped and covered your mouth to withhold the shriek that almost escaped. “Oh my god Akaashi! You scared me!” you told the boy standing next to you, you hadn’t even noticed him there when you came in. He was in one of your foundation courses, and he was friends with Osamu. It was much easier to talk to the cute transfer student from Tokyo, than it was to talk to your actual crush, even though they were quite close.

“Sorry, but you still didn’t answer me,” Akaashi laughs and reaches out to pluck the few melting snowflakes out of your hair.

Osamu somehow looks over at just that moment, and freezes as he watches you laugh and thank Akaashi for taking the snow out of your hair. He gulps, feeling a pang in his chest at that, maybe he should’ve just talked to you first. He was so preoccupied with watching you with Akaashi that he didn’t notice the hot water spilling over and onto his hand until it burned him. He hisses and bites his lip, quickly opening the tap to run some cold water over the angry, red blotch on his hand.

“I was talking about myself, I made a fool of myself as usual,” you sigh, glancing at Osamu, frowning when you see him washing his hand it seems, under the tap.

Akaashi looks between you and his friend and grins, “You could just talk to him, he doesn’t bite, I promise he’s nice.”

“I’m not doubting that he is, but I’ll just make a fool of myself again— wait, is it that obvious?!” you gasp in mortification.

“Yes y/n, a blind man can see that you’ve got a big, fat, crush on Osamu,” comes another voice butting into the conversation from Akaashi’s side.

You quickly reach over and slap a hand over the loud-mouthed boy’s lips. “Shut up Atsumu!” you hiss, glancing back to make sure Osamu didn’t hear anything. You’re glad to see him busy and back to making orders for a couple people. His twin was an absolute headache, even though he was busier, being the volleyball team captain, and also a senior himself.

“Just saying,” Atsumu shrugs when you remove your hand glaring at him.

Osamu came over with three cups, giving two to Atsumu and Akaashi first before handing you the last one. Your eyes widen when you see the red mark on his hand, no doubt from a burn. It wasn’t there just a few minutes ago when you placed your order so that means he got it between then and now.

You put the coffee down and grasp his hand in yours, “What happened?!” you gasp, forgetting all about the other two boys standing there with sly smirks on their faces.

Osamu’s unoccupied hand comes up to the back of his neck, rubbing it as he looks down. “Nothing, just a small accident,” he mumbles, thinking about how nice and soft your smaller hands feel holding onto his.

“We’ll be going now,” Akaashi tells you both, but neither you nor Osamu pay any attention to him. Atsumu was about to protest about wanting to stay and see what happens but Akaashi grabs one of the straps of his backpack and pulls him along out of the shop.

You frown running your thumb gently across the expanse of burnt skin, until what you’re doing and just whose hand you were holding dawns on you. You quickly let go of his hand, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry! You should put some ice on that!” you gush out quickly, your entire face red from embarrassment. You didn’t even bother to pick up your coffee in your haste to zoom out of the shop, leaving Osamu flabbergasted.

He watches you fly out the door, and out of his line of sight in record time, frowning at your behaviour. You were so hard to read, one minute you were holding his hand so gently, the next you were gone. He looks down at your abandoned coffee and frowns noticing a pair of bright pink gloves next to it. He picks them up and puts them in his pocket, the tiny smile making its way back onto his face. Your small moment of forgetfulness in your rush to get away was finally his reason to talk to you.

Your mind is on overdrive, replaying the incident over and over, it was driving you insane. Your lecturer’s voice was just background noise in your busy mind, you hadn’t been able to retain a single thing in the class since it began almost an hour ago. Slamming your book shut, you shove it into your bag and exit the classroom via the back door. It was obvious that you weren’t going to be able to pay attention to anything else for the day so you head toward the library.

The cute library assistant, Suna Rintaro, smiles as you walk in. He was used to seeing you there and you’d both studied together quite a bit last semester since he shared one of your classes. Rintaro had an admirable work ethic and you appreciated that a lot so even now when you didn’t have any more classes together, you always seek him out as a study partner whenever he’s available.

Your friends always tease you about how cute you would be together, the perfect “nerd couple,” but you shrug them off knowing that Rintaro had eyes for someone else, and you were way too caught up in the gray-haired boy from the coffee shop. Now you wish that it wasn’t so, and you and Rintaro did like each other. It would be way simpler, and you wouldn’t have made a total fool of yourself like you did this morning with Osamu. You sigh heavily, plopping unceremoniously into a chair in a secluded corner of the library.

A shadow came over the pages of the book you were leafing through and you look up, meeting Rintaro’s frowning face. “What is it?” you ask him.

He looks down at you and frowns even more for a few seconds before answering, “I think I should be asking you that, your book is upside down.”

You tear your eyes away from his and look down at the book that was indeed upside down. You quickly fix your blunder and grin sheepishly at him. “I’m having a weird day.”

“I can see that, I’ll be off in half hour if you want to talk,” he says, and you don’t even have time to answer as he was walking halfway down two bookcases already.

_____________________

Another sigh escapes your mouth, that was three in the past two minutes. Rintaro glares at you irritably, “Are you going to talk or not? I’m not going to waste my precious free time if you aren’t.”

You glare back at him, picking at your snack, “I didn’t ask you to, you offered,” you mutter but continue anyway. “I made a complete fool of myself in front of Osamu this morning,” you sigh, dropping the potato chip back into the pack.

Suna raises an eyebrow and motions for you to elaborate. You spill and tell him the entire embarrassing story, heaving another heavy sigh when you’re finished.

“So…you think you blew your chance?” he asks looking at you.

You pout and nod, “He probably thinks I’m the biggest loser ever. Girls throw themselves at him all the time, he probably thinks I’m just another one of them now,” you whine miserably.

“Is that why he’s standing outside the window peeking in here?” Suna asks again, nodding towards the window of the practically empty lecture hall you two were occupying.

“He what?!” you shriek turning around so fast you swear you feel something pull in your neck.

The moment the aforementioned boy sees you turn to face him; he ducks out of view. You barely see the flash of grey coloured hair as he disappears behind the wall. Why was he even there? To make fun of you? The thoughts that swarm your mind are less than pleasant and you feel a familiar burning in your nose and throat.

Rintaro’s eyes widen when he notices your eyes get watery, “Wow y/n, calm down,” he tries to persuade you, looking quite similar to a scared fox, it almost makes you giggle.

“It’s not that deep, Osamu is a nice guy, there isn’t even a bad rumour about him, Atsumu is the problem,” Rintaro awkwardly pats your shoulder.

“What if he tells everyone? Oh God, I’m going to die of humiliation,” you half sob, burying your face in your hands.

“Look, even if he is let’s say displeased by what happened, he would never humiliate you, give it a few days and you’ll see he’ll forget all about it,” Suna responds, offering the kind of comfort only he could.

You shake your head then nod, “Thanks Rin.”

_________________

You spend the next four days purposefully avoiding the coffee shop and anywhere else that you might run into Miya Osamu or his friends. So far you were successful in evading them all, but of course the universe could never be too kind for too long. The moment you step foot into the library you’re accosted by the same boy you’d taken inconvenient measures all week to avoid.

“Y/n, can we talk?” Osamu asks you quietly, adhering to the rules of the library. You glance behind him and see Rintaro inconspicuously making his way over to the returns shelf closer to the both of you, you shake your head slightly amused.

“Now? I’m kind of busy,” you reply, turning your attention back to Osamu, trying your best to avoid the undoubtedly awkward conversation that would probably follow.

“It won’t take long,” he pleads, looking at you with those warm gray eyes that made your stomach do a backflip. “Please.”

Your head nods automatically before your brain can even catch up, and soon he was leading you out the door.

Osamu stands next to you, looking down at his feet and biting his lip. You frown a little feeling both nervous and agitated, you rather get the humiliation over with quickly.

“What do you want?” you snap, and you realize it came out much harsher than you’d intended when the boy looks up at you wide-eyed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly try to correct yourself.

“No no, it’s fine, you probably think this is really weird but--,” he holds out his hand to you and you frown in confusion when you see a bottle of straight black coffee in his grasp.

“I…I don’t understand,” you frown looking from the coffee to his face.

“You left your coffee that morning at the shop and you haven’t been there since and well, you paid for it, so I thought it was only fair for me to bring it to you,” he smiles, actually showing some teeth.

Your heart soars at his consideration, you knew he was a nice guy but this was very unexpected, and very sweet. He doesn’t even mention the events of that morning and you were more than grateful. You glance at the coffee before taking it from his hand and thanking him.

“You really didn’t have to Osamu,” you smile at him, “Is your hand better?”

He looks down at his hand where the burn had previously been and nods, “It’s pretty much gone now.”

There’s an awkward silence after that, neither of you knowing what to say to continue the conversation. The silence made you uncomfortable after a few moments and you decide to take your leave since there was clearly nothing left to say.

“Well uh, I’m going to go now, see you around,” you tell him and turn to head back to the library.

Osamu quickly grabs your hand, startling you, “Wait!”

“What is it?” you gasp coming to a halt.

“Well I didn’t just come by to give you the coffee, I really wanted to ask if you’d consider getting coffee with me sometime?” he asks, and you notice the tips of his ears turning red.

Your shocked face was probably hard to mask at this point, was he asking you out? Did that mean he actually noticed you?

“You mean like…a date?” you ask, hoping you didn’t look too stupid if that wasn’t what he meant.

To your relief he nods, “Yeah, uh, if you want to of course!”

“Yes, and no,” you answer grinning at his confused expression.

You look down at the bottle of coffee in your hands and then back at him, “Yes to the date, no to the coffee,” you laugh. “You see…I actually hate coffee.”

Osamu looks at you with a raised eyebrow, “Are you serious? You came into the coffee shop every single day for the semester until four days ago and got coffee, every. single. day.”

A blush rises to your cheeks at his words, you have no choice but to spill the beans now, “The only reason I came in there was for you,” you mumble looking down at your shoes.

Osamu’s smile widens even more when he hears you. Of course, Atsumu and Akaashi had told him all about this before but he refused to believe them because you seemed so aloof and immune to him unlike other girls. Hearing you say it yourself this time had him feeling over the moon.

“Guess what y/n…” came his voice, closer than you expected, and you look up to see him standing very close, and completely invading your personal space, and you didn’t mind one bit.

“I was supposed to leave the coffee shop job after a month into this semester, the only reason I stayed was because you came in everyday and I was hoping you noticed me too,” he grins at you.

“Oh…OHhh, oh my god,” you blush even more now, unable to look at him.

“Cute,” he laughs and pokes your cheek, “Also, you’ve been ordering the worst thing on the menu, it’s no wonder you hate coffee, how about you give it a second chance, I’ll make you my own secret blend.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him now, “A secret blend?”

“The perfect blend,” he replies, reaching down and taking your hand.

You look at your joint hands and smile, a feeling of content blooming in your chest, “I’ll give the perfect blend a try.”

[aftersamu]

HAIKYUU !!

HEAD-CANONS

M.OSAMU

M.ATSUMU

R.SUNA

K.SAKUSA

K. BOKUTO

H.IWAIZUMI

T.KUROO

T.OIKAWA

[karamfilmare]

@flycloudddd

Inked Osamu at work ✨ ft. tired Akaashi (and equally tired ‘Samu)

[karamfilmare]

Osamu is the type of person to say 'fuck' under his breath before he grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss.

[imaushi-ji]

JINN

senn + ji. soulmates.

WAKAJIBEN

wakasa + ji. idiots in love.

benkei + ji. enemies to lovers.

wakasa + ji + benkei. best friends to lovers.

JIAO

xiao + ji. forced proximity.

BLORBOS

kurama, a.keiji, o.yuuta, s.kiyoomi, m.osamu, c.hyoma, a.shouta, t.giyuu, kuroko, i. toge

[osamiiya]

"A guy I'd kinda be into." M.Osamu x Reader

Based off of the song "A Guy That I'd Kinda be Into" from the musical Be More Chill

Summary: You've known Miya Osamu since your first year of junior high. He's never been one to catch your attention, too focused on other things. But now you're in your second year of high school and things are... different.

Warnings: Swearing

Miya Osamu was always an ass. Well, from what you knew after attending the same school with him since junior high. He was always surrounded by his loud brother and by girls who flaunted their looks or bodies to gain his favor, giving them a smug smile as he "unknowingly" led them on.

To be completely honest, you didn't like him all that much despite not knowing a lot about him, which wasn't uncommon. People who liked him, liked him, and those who didn't stayed away from him.

Unfortunately, avoiding him was just about impossible once your teacher assigned partners for a project on History.

Groaning inwardly, you give him a stiff smile and prepare to do the whole project by yourself, believing that he would pull some lame excuse like having to go to volleyball practice for the rest of the day.

"Give me your phone number so we can meet up to do the project. I have practice right after school, but if you don't mind waiting we can go to a cafe or one of our houses to work?"

You blink at him twice, not really believing his words. He looked earnest, giving you a kind smile and holding out his phone.

"Oh, sure." While typing your number into his phone, you can't help but be cautious, who knows? Maybe he's keeping up an act for the teacher.

As soon as you give your phone back to him, he's texting on it, and you feel frustrated until your phone buzzes from inside your backpack, indicating a message from him.

"I look forward to working with you." His grey eyes are kind, and you're wondering if this really was the Miya Osamu you went to school with.

For the next couple days you waited inside the gym for Osamu to finish practice, doing other homework and ignoring the squealing of fangirls peeking through the gym door, and Atsumu and Osamu's loud bickering.

Osamu wasn't the worst partner, in fact, he was the ideal partner. He offered his help and did his part completely and with detail, finishing the project much quicker than you had anticipated it would take.

He cracked jokes with you, and proposed breaks when needed, never too long or too short. He would stare into your eyes with a slightly cocked head, grey eyes giving you the upmost attention.

Who wouldn't fall for him?

"We're done." Osamu always came to get you, even if you insisted that you could wait outside the gym for him, he would insist back that you would get cold, and that it was no big deal.

While finishing the final touch ups on the project, running through the presentation, fixing errors, you can't but grow flustered when he stared or praised you for an idea.

"Hey can I ask a question?" Your mouth is running on its own, hand putting down the pencil in your hand to prop your head up on the table.

"What is it? Professing your undying love for me?" Osamu leaned back in his chair, stupidly handsome smirk growing.

"So theoretically, you know this guy. And you've never been into him, because he never seemed like the kind of person you'd be into right?"

Osamu nods, leaning forward to give you more of his attention, finding what you're saying important.

"And you never really knew him that well right? And you were so sure that he was a certain type of guy. But then things happened, and all of a sudden he's gone from someone you'd never be into, into someone you're kinda into."

Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can only hope that Osamu can't hear it from where he sat across from you.

"And who's got you so enamoured?" His voice catches slightly, and his eyebrows furrow slightly, something he's not even aware of.

"I'm not telling you." You huff and cross your arms.

Osamu licks his lips, and takes a deep breath in.

"Ok, my turn then. Let's say that there's this person, who clearly didn't like me at first, and I thought that we wouldn't get along right? But then suddenly you're spending time together and their laugh is like music to your ears, and they're rubbing their nose because it's itchy and it's so cute that you can't breathe because you're falling so quickly for them."

He's leaning in even more, hoping you can see the attraction in his eyes. And it's like a magnet is pulling the two of you together as you lean in towards him until you can almost feel his breath on your lips.

"I kinda like you Osamu." You're about to say something else when Osamu closes the gap, carefully kissing you, as if it were all a dream.

"I kinda like you too y/n."

---

Taglist:

@iwaizoom @dakotacecily @elianetsantana @peteunderoos @jovialnoise @ryusex-wife @dai-tsukki-desu @lolliyoomi @aruhappy @indecisivehusky @curiouslilbeast @kageyuji @alphabetsoupyum

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[karamfilmare]

@flycloudddd

pov: miya osamu waiting for you outside onigiri miya