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tsukishimacanrailme · 3 years
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Don’t be so sour, dough
part one part two part three (you are here)
notes: ahh part three is here!11!11 i don’t have a normal posting schedule so i apologize but here we are 
pairing: osamu x baker!reader
warnings: reader gets hit on by a drunk man and some cursing oops
words: 1.8k
“Here you are,” You spoke, handing a customer a piece of freshly baked melonpan. The bread was still warm as you placed it in her palms. She nodded politely at you, handing over the correct amount of money before sliding out of the door with a content smile. 
Your mom grumbled from next to you, “I still don’t see why you couldn’t use the train this morning.” She huffed as she shuffled back into the kitchen, pushing the door open easily. You laughed at her before turning back to the door which rang as a customer walked in.
“Bokuto-san! How are you?” You smiled as he walked in grinning brightly.
He took a moment to ponder over his choice of bread before looking back at you. “I’m wonderful per usual.” He hummed as he pointed over to the milk bread. “May I have two slices of that please?”
“Of course,” You said as you reached into the glass display to grab the bread. “Anything else?”
He shook his head no.
“Alright then. That would be $4.29.” 
Bokuto shoved his credit card into the machine mumbling, “I don’t know how this taxes thing works.” He seemed to be thinking for a moment before shouting “Oh!”
You flinched in shock, placing a hand over your chest to settle your breathing. 
“Atsumu-san said that Osamu-san would be coming over sometime today! I kinda forgot the rest of what he said but it was something like uh-” He placed his card back into his jacket pocket, “Uh, shoot I forgot. I knew I should’ve been paying attention. Something like a favor?” Bokuto groaned in despair, placing his hands in his hair. “I’m bad at remembering stuff! I was too focused on Sho-chan speaking Portuguese! I want to know another language but Akaashi said he would teach me English sometime.”
You laughed as you handed him the bag of bread, “Thanks for warning me about Osamu, Bokuto. I’m sure you’ll be able to learn a new language in no time.” 
Bokuto beamed at you, shuffling the bad to sit comfortably on his wrist, “Thank you!”
As you waved goodbye, several more customers walked in. It was going to be a long day.
                                                       ~~~~~~~
You slammed the door open to the kitchen when it was your break. Some old lady had just yelled at you for not placing what she asked for in separate bags even though she never specified for it. She then demanded for a discount price due to your impotence. 
When you refused, she chucked the money onto the counter rudely, coins spilling onto the floor, before sauntering out of the door, purposefully knocking over one of the signs at the front and giving you a smirk as the bell rang. 
Previous to her a group of teenagers walked in, settling down at one of the tables after ordering. They left wrappers on the table and on the floor and spilled a steaming cup of hot coffee before walking out giggling. 
You, of course, were left to clean up the mess since your mom was taking a nap in the back. 
Your break could only last so long. You were back behind the counter after 15 minutes before another man walked in. His hat was placed over his eyes and his scruffy beard was on display. 
“Hello sir, what can I do for you today?” You smiled politely as you put a pair of plastic gloves on. 
He smirked at you, his teeth yellow and his breath reeked of alcohol. “Well for starters you can give me your number.” 
“I’m sorry sir, I’m afraid I can’t do that for you.” You grimaced stepping back a bit. You were obviously uncomfortable but you highly doubted that was the first thing that was on this drunk man's mind. In fact, he seemed more into your chest then he was the bread.
He hummed, “C’mon it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a number, sweetcheeks.” He laughed, lifting his hat up a bit to stare up at you. His eyes were slightly red and his cheeks were flushed as well.  
“Don’t call me that,” You retorted glaring at him. “I’m afraid if you aren’t going to buy anything I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” You spoke, crossing your arms. This man was probably not going to leave without force. 
You were so caught up in thinking you didn’t even notice the bell above the door ringing. Neither did the drunk man. “Just give me the number, sweetcheeks.” He demanded.
A hand placed itself on his shoulder before the man stumbled back in surprise.
“She said no. Get that through your thick skull ya’ asshole.” Osamu spat, his eyebrows furrowed angrily. His eyes were fixated in a glare, dark and frightening. 
To be honest you kind of forgot that he was coming over. 
The man shoved Osamu roughly but he didn’t move an inch. He let his hand fall from the man's shoulder before speaking, “Get out you drunk piece of shit.” Osamu seethed. “And go take a shower.” 
The man shuffled backwards again. He rolled his eyes before walking out, grumbling underneath his breath.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and Osamu’s moved his hands to cup your face. It would have been nice if your mom didn’t storm out from behind the kitchen holding a broom.
“Where is he?” she glanced around the room. She settled her eyes on Osamu. “Get away from my daughter!” She yelled, swinging the broom from behind her shoulder.
“Uh, he just left.” You spoke, cheeks reddening with embarrassment. You placed your hands over Osamu’s and pulled them off your burning cheeks. 
“Are you okay?” They both spoke at the same time. Both of their eyes were widened as they peered upon you.
“Yes, I’m fine. Nothing happened anyways. He was drunk.” You said taking a step back. They both gave you a quizzical look. “Really.” 
“Why that guy is drunk before 2:00pm is beyond me.” Your mother sighed. “Go in the back and settle down. You’re shaking.”
You looked down at your palms and realized she was right. You didn’t really notice before; the adrenaline still running from the panic. Osamu wrapped an arm around your shoulder and led you toward the kitchen, gently pushing open the door with his other arm. His hand was rubbing your shoulder consolingly and he guided you toward the small mustard yellow couch in the back of the room. 
As he helped you sit down, he kneeled in front of you, “You alright, sweetcheeks?” He spoke, gently clutching your hands with his own. “Take some deep breaths. I’m going to get you a cup of water, okay?” 
You shook your head, “No thank you. It’s fine.” You gripped his hands, “Can you just stay like this?” You asked, blinking up at him from where you sat. 
He nodded, “Of course, sweetcheeks.” He pulled you into a hug.
“He called me that.” 
Osamu hummed in recognition, his chest vibrating. “Do you want me to stop calling you that?”
You shook your head, “I just didn’t want him calling me that.”
Osamu pulled you tighter against him, “Do ya’ need anything?” he asked, running one of his hands up and down your spine gently. When you shook your head once more he sighed. “C’mon sweetcheeks. Work with me here.” You laughed against his chest.
“I’m not that worked up about it. If anything it was just really creepy. Worst case scenario I  would’ve just called the police. It’s good you were there though. Bokuto-san told me you were    coming and I honestly forgot.” You shrugged, voice muffled against his chest.
Osamu pulled away from you for a moment to look at you. His grey eyes bore into your own as you blinked innocently at him. “Speaking of which you still owe me some bread.” 
You knew he was trying to distract you. It worked. “Ah,” You stood up, you headed toward the warming rack where a new batch of freshly baked strudel lay. You gently placed it on a napkin and handed it to Osamu. He looked as if he were drooling. Maybe he was.
“Here,” You grinned as you took in the hungry look in his eye, “Eat up.”
Osamu took one of the biggest bites you’ve ever seen. His eyes widened comically and he threw his head back in surprise.
 “Holy shit,” He blanked after he finished chewing. “This is probably the best thing I’ve put in my mouth.” He claimed after practically inhaling the rest of the pastry. 
“Well that was the point.” You shrugged looking over at him. He has crumbs all around his mouth and even on his cheeks. Before you even knew it you were in front of him, clearing the stray specks of bread off his face.
“You’re so messy,” You complained after brushing the crumb residing in the corner of his mouth. If you were paying enough attention you would see Osamu’s cheeks burning red. “It’s like giving food to a child.” You laughed.
Osamu surged forward, claiming your lips with his own. You blinked with surprise, your spine straightening out but you soon relaxed. His mouth was warm and his lips were chapped but you didn’t care. All you could taste was the fresh strudel. 
You broke apart for a moment to catch your breath and Osamu licked his lips. He bent his neck downward to reconnect your lips just as soon as you exhaled. You parted your mouth and his tongue brushed with yours. Your lips were probably swollen with the intensity he was kissing you with. 
When you broke apart for the final time, Osamu cupped your cheeks. “Jesus, next time warn a man when you’re gonna get all up in his face. It does things.” He joked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 
“It’s not my fault you don’t know how to eat properly,” You scoffed, brushing the remaining crumbs off his cheek, “You’re supposed to be a grown man.” 
Osamu gasped offendedly, “Oh please. You practically inhaled the onigiri I made.” 
You hummed, “At least I can wipe my own face.”
“And look where not wiping my face got me. I think I’ll do it again.” Osamu chortled as you rolled your eyes.
“Well don’t expect it to happen again.” 
“Wait wha-” Osamu breathed shakily.
“Unless you take me out.” You grinned cheekily as Osamu let out a sigh of relief. He let go of you to rest against one of the counters. His lips were red and his hair was slightly messy from when you unwittingly ran your hands through it. The dark gray stands were sticking out in all directions but to you he’s never looked better.
Osamu smirked, “Now that, I can do.”
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tsukishimacanrailme · 3 years
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hey y’all post will def be up by sunday !! finals might kill me before then though
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tsukishimacanrailme · 3 years
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Don’t be so sour, dough
part one 
pairing: miya osamu x baker!reader
warnings: maybe like a bad word or two and cheesy writing 
words: 1.3k
notes: there will be a part 3 because i really like writing osamu even though it’s kinda bad 
The door shut steadily behind you, the bell still ringing faintly in your ears. Along with Osamu’s laugh. The soft chuckle would probably remain in your thoughts forever. 
Walking over to your car, you gripped the cold handle and stepped inside, turning the metal key into the ignition. The car started rumbling but soon it stuttered and faulted. Removing the key and trying to turn the car on was futile. Your precious car was definitely not going to start up; especially in the time that you needed to get home in time just to get enough sleep for your shift.
You gripped the wheel tightly, debating whether or not you should slam your head into the dashboard. Your knuckles turned white with pressure but your grip did not relinquish. Eventually you sighed, exasperated, and fished out your phone from your pocket to check the times the train would arrive at the nearest station. 
“10:45pm,” You let out a shuddering breath. Honestly not that bad considering the walk to the station. You could probably take a nap. Afterall, your energy was not going to save itself.
Contemplating on whether or not you should have a midlife crisis at the ripe age of 20 didn’t take you that long. Besides, the train wasn’t going to wait for you. Stepping out of your car and shutting the door softly, you started your descent to the station. 
“Y/n? You good there?” Osamu called from behind you.
You faltered in your steps, pausing momentarily to look back at the man.
“Yeah definitely.”
Osamu gave you a quizzical look, one of his eyebrows lifted up slightly.
“You sure?”
You nodded quickly. Too quickly almost.
“So do you care to explain why you’re getting out of your car that very clearly won’t turn on and heading toward the nearest train station?” Osamu teases, shifting his weight over to his left leg and crossing his arms. 
“If you’re going to ask questions you already know the answer to why bother asking?” You shot back.
Osamu took a look at you, then turned his eyes toward your very useless car, then back at you.
“Want a ride home or not?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Osamu, really, you’ve done enough for me already. I don’t want to bother you with this.” You explained shuffling the bag on your shoulder until it rested comfortably on you. “Really.”
Osamu shook his head, “I offered. It’s not that big of a deal trust me. It’s not that late anyways. I’m sure I could spare some time.” He uncrossed his arms and shrugged, “Unless you’re uncomfortable of course.”
“Oh no, it’s not that I swear. I actually wouldn’t mind a ride.” You mumbled, shifting on your feet nervously. 
“Great,” Osamu smiled. “All you need to say is-”
You groaned.
“-Osamu is the best and hottest onigiri maker I have ever seen,” He changed the pitch of his voice higher. “And he is so kind to be willing to let me ride in his precious car, Gretchen.”
“First of all, I’m not saying that. Second of all, Gretchen is the most stupid name I have ever seen someone name their car.” You scoffed jokingly, blinking up at him.
“Gretchen is not stupid, excuse you. It’s better than Atsumus.” Osamu gloated. “His car's name is Hermoine.”
You blinked. Then blinked again. You started opening your mouth, then closing it just as soon. 
“Osamu. If I say ‘Osamu is the best and hottest onigiri maker blah blah blah and stuff will you tell me everything embarrassing about Atsumu AND give me a ride home?”
Osamu smiled, “I knew there was something I liked about you sweetcheeks. But I’ll tell you embarrassing stories about Atsumu free of charge.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him, “Gee. Thanks.” 
                                                       ~~~~~~~~
“Wait, so he really slipped and fell when receiving an award? In middle school?” You questioned, your hand slapped over your mouth and your cheeks reddened with laughter.
Osamu grinned, “Yup. Got it all on video too. I’ll have to ask one of our friends, Suna, for the footage though. He always keeps those kinds of things. Oh, left here right?”
“Yeah then make another left at the corner of that apartment building over there.” You pointed. Osamu made a noise of acknowledgement and stopped at the red light.
“Hey, I know I could probably look it up online but since I oh so conveniently have you here…” Osamu stepped on the accelerator when the light turned a bright green. You blinked at him questioningly. 
“Where is your bakery?”
“Oh, do you know where the really big guitar shop is? The one with like two stories?” You asked, shifting along with the car when Osamu made the turn. Osamu hummed. “It’s like right across the street next to the grocery store.” 
“Alright then,” Osamu smiled at you. “I’ll be sure to stop by after my shif-” 
You shover his head back over to look at the street, “Eyes on the road you dummy! If I’m going to die it’s not going to be here!”
Osamu gasped, “You really think I’m that bad of a driver?” 
“Yes,” you glomped. “Turn right here and the fourth house on the left is where I live.” 
Osamu hummed again, but his fingers held a tighter grip on the wheel then what they had before. 
“Hey you wouldn’t min-” Osamu started.
“Could I have your number?” You interrupted, staring up at him after he stopped the vehicle. Osamu blinked at you. “For like, um, to thank you and stuff,” You waved your hands in front of yourself nervously as Osamu blinked again.
Osamu sighed playfully, “Of course, sweetcheeks. You can have my number to ‘thank me’. But I’ll be taking your number so I can take you out sometime. Call it a returned favor.” Osamu smiled, beaming over at you with a joyful glint in his eye.
“Oi, I need to agree first before you look so smug.” You countered, hitting him lightly on the shoulder before crossing your arms.
“Please, sweetcheeks? I’ve got so many more stories to tell you.” He winked, pouting when you made no move to look at him.
“Okay, fine. I’ll agree. But only on the condition you come to the bakery and try something out.” You said with finality.
“Wow, I see you’re using me to metaphorically ‘get that bread’. I see how it is.”  Osamu laughed when you glared at him.
“No, I’ll be giving it to you for free. Call that a ‘returned favor’ you asshole.” You smirked, looking over to the front of your house after glancing at Osamu’s partially red face. “I probably should leave now though. Thanks for the ride.” 
Osmaus eyes widened as you stepped out of the car. “Oh yeah, no problem. Just-”
You narrowed your own eyes, “If you even forget about coming to the bakery I will haunt you in your sleep. I didn’t embarrass myself so you could make a fool out of me.”
Osamu nodded, “Would never dream of it, sweetcheeks.”
                                                       ~~~~~~~
“My my, who was that?” Your mom teased, stepping out from behind the window where she was very clearly spying on you.
“Shouldn’t you be more worried about the fact that I currently don’t have my car? Since I can’t drive myself to work tomorrow, I will be taking the liberty of waking you up at 7:30 in the morning just so you can drive me there.” 
Your mom raised an eyebrow, “The trains are working at 7:30am. Use those! If you even think about waking me up before 9:00 I will return you to where you came from!” 
“What?” You called, walking up the stairs and holding a hand up to your ear. “Sorry can’t hear you!”
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tsukishimacanrailme · 3 years
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Leader
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tsukishimacanrailme · 3 years
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Don’t be so sour, dough
(part 1)
pairing: miya osamu x baker!reader
warnings: bad writing maybe idk  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
word count: 2k (huh)
It’s a Tuesday evening when a rowdy crowd of grown men enter your family's bake shop and it’s only two minutes later when an even bigger crowd of people flocked around the entrance; phones out and cameras flashing. Though the bake shop was popular, it didn’t usually have a wave of people come in near 2:00pm. 
Peeking out from behind the counter to the mass of people, you raise your eyebrow.
“Sorry about that,” someone spoke. “They’re probably here because of us.”
With a laugh, you turn back at the group of, by the looks of it, 8 people. One of them, the one with bright orange hair, was eyeing the supply of melonpan through the glass in awe. The rest were taking peeks of the bread supply, searching through for what they wanted.
“It’s all good. Not much to do around here anyways,” you smile, “What can I get for you all today?”
“Ah! I want the one with the custard filling!” a man with white hair yelled, bounding up excitedly to the counter. “Omi-kun wants one too!” 
The man, ‘Omi-kun’, you guessed, nodded his head. “Seperate bags, please.”
As you reached into the display to grab the two pastries, another man spoke up, “Sho-kun and I want the melonpan.” he smiled politely while you slid the bags on the countertop toward the group. The orange haired man nodded excitedly in response. 
“Anything else?” you spoke, looking back at them. 
A blonde man walked up to the front, “Uh, anything you recommend? I’m not good at this kind of thing.” 
“I like the brioche myself. It’s a type of french bread. Would you like to try some?” you ask. 
The man shook his head, “Ah, it’s not for me. It’s for a person who likes any food, really. But I’m sure he would like to try the uh,” he blanched. 
“Brioche,” you supply.
He nodded this time, “Yeah that.”
Grabbing the bread with a pair of tongs, you stuffed a slice into a paper bag and slid it across the glass display towards him. 
“Will that be all?”
The tallest man of the group looked around and stepped forward, “It’s on me guys,”
The group cheered from behind him.
                                                       ~~~~~~~
A day later, the white haired man returned, this time tugging along a man with glasses. They both plopped themselves in line behind the old woman who you were currently ringing up. 
“Hello again,” you smiled, waving goodbye to the woman, “back for more?”
“Mhm! Your custard bread was so good I had to get more while I’m still in town.” he smiled excitedly, pulling the man behind him forward. “I also want this guy to try it.”
The man with glasses bowed his head, “Good morning,”
“So will that be two pieces of the custard bread then?” you say, reaching into the display with a pair of tongs. 
“Make it four please! Oh, Akaashi, Sho-kun says that the melonpan is to die for. Can we get that too?” 
“Of course Bokuto-san,” He nodded. 
You smile as the two interact, placing the bags of pastries on the counter in front of you. “That will be $17.50.” 
The man, Akaashi places twenty dollars in front of you. “Keep the change. Atsumu-san said that this place is worth his brother's praise. I have high expectations.”
Bokuto spoke up, “He’s the blonde man from yesterday!” 
“Ah,” You nod, “that’s good then. I baked the brioche myself.”
Bokuto’s eyes widened, “You should check out his store sometime! It’s called Onigiri Miya, it’s like 10 minutes away from here. If you like onigiri, he's definitely your best bet. Right Akaashi?”
Akaashi nodded but paused when he looked behind him, “Bokuto-san, we’re holding up the line,” he said, collecting the bags. “Have a good day.” he smiled.
“Bye,” Bokuto waved, “I’ll be back in like three weeks!” he called walking out the door.
                                                        ~~~~~~~
It was only after your shift had ended when you found enough time to look up Onigiri Miya. Sendai wasn’t the biggest of places so it wasn’t a surprise when it was only 12 minutes away from your family based shop. Picking up your phone from the console of your car, you dialed a friend.
“Hello?” they answered on the third ring. 
“Hey,” you call, “have you ever heard of a place called Onigiri Miya?”
They hummed from across the line, “Oh yeah, I love that place. It’s like right next door to the paint store I used to work at. I used to go there all the time after my night shifts. It’s open from like, 8:00am-9:00pm. Why?”
“Well, these two customers came in today and recommended it. Pretty sure the owner is a close friend or something. Is it really that good?” You said, starting your car. 
“Yeah, it’s super good actually. Really great prices too. Actually, since it's like 8:19pm we could totally meet up and go there right now. See how good it is for yourself.”
“Actually that’s not a bad idea. Meet you in fifteen?” 
“Of course.”
Twelve minutes later, you were parked in front of the establishment, waiting for your friend to pull in. Two minutes later though, they knocked on your window and the two of you headed inside. 
As soon as the bell above the door chimed, a voice came, “Welcome in! I’ll be up there in a second.” 
“Ah, I think you would like the okaka onigiri. It’s the first thing I got when I was trying this place out.” They said. 
You hummed in recognition as a man walks out from the kitchen in the back and up to the counter. He really did look like his brother. 
“Sorry about that, how can I help you guys today?” He spoke, smiling politely.
“It’s all good Osamu-kun. I’ll take two salmon onigiri and my friend here will take the okaka onigiri.” they spoke.
“All right then. It’ll be out in about 10 minutes or-” The bell from the door chimed. “Oh, sorry Samu, didn’t think you would have customers at this time.” Blonde man from the other day spoke, walking in. He smiled sheepishly at you when his eyes flashed in recognition.
“Holy shit,” Your friend whispered.
“Hey, Samu! This is the girl from that bakery I was tellin’ you bout’! The one with the, uh-”
“Brioche,” Both you and Osamu spoke.
“Yeah, that thing! Wasn’t it good?” He smiled, waving at you. You smiled in response.
“Tsumu, no offense, but why are you here again? You could’ve waited until after closing time to come bother me.” Osamu sighed. “I have customers.” 
“I totally would’ve but the team bus is leaving in like 20 minutes. I just wanted to see you before I headed off.” Atsumu protested, rubbing his neck. 
Osamu rolled his eyes, “Yeah yeah, get into the kitchen you goof. If you’re going to be here for the next 10 minutes at least make yourself useful.” 
Atsumu mock saluted and headed into the kitchen, pushing the door open with so much force, it hit the wall behind it and left a resonating ‘smack’ in its wake. 
“I said make yourself useful! Not to destroy my stop, you dumbass!” Osamu roared, storming into the kitchen himself. 
Your friend turned to you with wide eyes, “The Miya Atsumu walked into your store and you didn’t tell me?” 
You turned to them, confused, “Who?” 
Your friend looked gobsmacked as you looked at her questioningly.
“He literally plays for the MSBY Jackals. The V-League? Does that ring a bell?”
You shrugged, “I don’t really know, there was a whole group of people that showed up with him at the time. I was more concerned with that than with the fact that he’s a professional athlete.”
“Oh my god, I literally hate you right now.” Your friend gasped. “They’re based in Tokyo so they aren’t even here that often and they chose to go to your store.” 
You blanched, “Is something wrong with my store?” you questioned teasingly. 
Your friend shook her head, “No it’s just the fact that you didn’t tell me,” they pouted. 
Well the next time a professional athlete walks into my shop I’ll be sure to tell you.” You spoke, rolling your eyes with a laugh. 
The kitchen door slams open again startling you from your stance and almost making you fall over. Your friend gasps loudly, letting out a loud “Shit!” while trying to calm her breathing.
“Atsumu you shit head! Stop slamming the door open or I’ll shove my foot up your ass while making you pay for the damages!” Osamu yelled, pushing the door open far more gently than what Atsumu had. 
Atsumu smiled innocently, “Here you go,” he said, placing a plate in front of you. “It’s on the house for my brother's favorite bread maker.” He winked.
You let out a laugh, “Thank you,”
“All right that’s enough out of you. I’m kicking you out now.” Osamu stated, rubbing his hands on his apron. “Leave before you’re late for your bus you idiot.”
Atsumu sighed, “Yeah yeah, I’ll call you when I get home. I’ll see ya’ later then.” 
Osamu glared at him and Atsumu put his hands up in surrender. Your friend giggled from behind you.
He left the restaurant and the bell chimed for the final time when Osamu turned to you.
“I’m sorry. Tsumu doesn’t really know how to be an adult. Truly amazing if you ask me.” Osamu bowed his head in apology.
You waved him off, “Oh, I really don’t care. Family business and all; I know what it’s like to fight with people like that.” 
Osamu smiled in relief, “Still, sorry. He doesn’t know when to stop.” 
“Ah,” Your friend gasped, jumping up. “I totally forgot to pick up my brother from his friends house. Sorry, y/n I have to leave!” they said, pulling out a $10 dollar bill from their pocket. 
“Here Osamu-kun! Bye!” They yelled, grabbing their onigiri and running toward the door and into their car.
“That was totally deliberate.” You stated, staring blankly at the spot her car was previously in. 
“Totally,” Osamu laughed. “Here,” he spoke pushing the onigiri towards you. “Try it.” 
Grasping the plate in your hands you grabbed the Onigiri and took a tentative bite. 
“Holy shit,” You spoke after swallowing, “oh my god, that’s good.”
Osamu sat down across from you and started taking off his apron, “Did you ever doubt it was?” he teased.
“No, no, no, it’s not that I just-” you spluttered, taking in the muscles of his forearms. Was it legal to have muscles like that while owning a restaurant?
“Relax,” He laughed, “I’m just teasing. I’m glad to know that the person who made the most bomb bread I’ve ever tasted in my life likes the onigiri I make.” He winked. 
“Oh please, this is probably the best thing I’ve ever tasted period.” You claimed, taking another bite. 
“You flatter me.” Osamu sighed, looking up at you from where he set his head down at the table. His cheeks were flushed a light pink and his eyes were half lidded from exhaustion. His long lashes fluttered whenever he blinked, and his gray eyes twinkled from the yellow lighting in the restaurant. 
“Oh,” you spoke, breaking eye contact, “it’s past nine, I’m probably bothering you.” You stated, standing up. “I should probably head out anyways.” 
“Ah, it’s that time already, huh?” Osamu stretched, his shirt riding up just a little. It gave you a nice peek at the abs that he was harboring and you flushed. He smiled at you when he stood up. 
“I hope you come again.”
“Yeah, definitely. As long as you come to my store sometime.” You spoke slyly, looking back at him from the door.
He smiled at you one last time, “Have a good night,” 
You smiled back as you headed out the door, “You too.”
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tsukishimacanrailme · 4 years
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karasuno public high school vs shiritorizawa academy will now begin
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tsukishimacanrailme · 4 years
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北 信介 | insp.
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tsukishimacanrailme · 4 years
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@haikyuuweek2020:
DAY 1: Rule The Court      ➶ A. Favourite Character – Hinata Shouyou
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tsukishimacanrailme · 4 years
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tuesday nights
kei tsukishima x reader
warnings: like a wee bit of angst
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tuesday nights were for driving around at 5:37 pm just when the sky was turning dark and the colors of the sunset faded away and mixed into an ominous black.
tuesday nights were for getting shitty drive-through food and sitting aimlessly in the car at the walmart parking lot while possibly having an existential crisis. 
this was routine for you and kei. though he would always pay for the food and you would always complain, nothing compared to the bright traffic lights and the taste of cheap takoyaki that filled your mouths to the brim. 
kei would be humming some mainstream song that played lightly on the radio, tapping on the steering wheel with one hand, the other draped over your thigh. he would be chewing lightly, his glasses slipping down his nose, some sauce smeared on his face. he would scoff when you reached over to clean it for him but give you a gentle smile when you were done.
when you were all finished and done with your food, kei would kiss you breathless, the trash sitting in the backseat of his car long forgotten. he would guide your mouth to his, his long arms trapping you in your seat, though you never could complain. his hands held your face like you were a piece of glass. always soft and light. you always smiled into these types of kisses and kei would pull back from you and glare playfully.
you’d turn up the music and exit the car, beckoning kei with your tempting smile and your arms open. he would sigh exasperatedly and give you a look of false annoyance but nonetheless would climb out of the car and slowly head over to where you stood. you would giggle, eyes closed, pulling him closer to you and swaying him around softly. kei would wrap his arms around you, his figure encasing your frame, his gaze loving as it settled upon you.
when you would look up at him, he would look away, his face stoic as ever. he would call you idiotic but the blush on his face would say otherwise. you never wanted to go home. and neither would he.
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‘some things couldn’t last forever’ is what you told yourself when kei went off to college. the tuesday nights spent being young and stupid in old parking lots were over. you were heading off to college as well and with both of you going to be apart from each other, kei deemed it best for your relationship to come to an end. he broke up with you a week before he left. over the phone on a tuesday night.
‘i hate him’ is what you told yourself when looking at what were once your favorite foods. the takoyaki was slowly getting cold. the steam once coming from it was long gone. your blank stare was the only thing that was filled with heat.
‘i hate him’ is what you told yourself. but you never could.
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kei knew that logically, it was best for you to go your separate ways. adjusting to college life, getting scouted, and trying to maintain a long distance relationship just seemed like too much. 
kei knew that he was a coward. he couldn’t bear to see your face. one look from your teary eyes would send him rushing towards you in an instant. kei did what he had to do. he broke up with you over the phone, his heart wretched. he figured the pain would go away.
by the next week, kei was set to play his first game as a professional volleyball player. his eyes still skimmed over the crowd to look for you. his mind was blank.
he won of course, though it could never feel the same. His teammates took him out to celebrate with drinks and food but kei wasn’t feeling any high. all he felt was longing for you. 
for the first time, kei let himself get drunk. the alcohol sitting in front of him was just too tempting. kei didn’t realize he was calling you until you answered. kei felt the overwhelming urge to cry from just hearing your voice. The alcohol didn’t allow him to react the way he wanted. 
He sobbed, collapsing on his bedroom floor, and cried out apologies to you. his eyes were blurred with tears. 
he fell asleep that night with you over the phone.
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kei had called you at 10:30pm later that day. you looked up from your perch on the couch and hesitantly answered. 
it was that tuesday night when you got back together. 
@hockeycoaching​
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