Latest Posts by chaoticcoffeeewitch - Page 9

“Atsumu’s biggest blessing... it’s that he’s got Osamu”

Feeling emotional about these two today and always

the world is yours to conquer

Winter is teatime – which one is yours?

FANART 五条悟 from 呪術廻戦 Gojou Satoru from jujutsu kaisen 【My twitter】

bleak

pairing: atsumu miya x gn!reader

w/c: 1280+

warnings: self-hatred, crying, this may be triggering to those who undergo the same condition so please read with discretion. please let me know if i missed anything

genre: reverse hurt/comfort, friends to lovers type beat

summary: atsumu needs to know if there’s anyone out there who doesn’t hate him like himself. 

a/n: i know im not scheduled to post today but i wanted to have this out alr. kind of a shitpost but i like how it turned out. this is lowkey based on myself and my experiences with some family and friends. please message me if you ever need to talk, im here to listen. 

It was no secret to Atsumu that he wasn’t anyone’s favorite. 

It became clear to him when he was a child. All the kids wanted to play with Osamu or his cousins only wanted to play with Osamu and his little sister. Sometimes, the impatience his parents had for him seeped into the air and he could just feel it. Nothing even had to be said. The looks on their faces, the clicking of their tongues, he already knew. 

Well into his teenage years, not a single thing had changed. His parents showed a subtle favoritism to Osamu and his sister. He was never invited to anything but Osamu was. It broke him a little. Now that he was older, Atsumu could really see why. 

Osamu got better grades despite being in the same classes, could control his temper, knew when to speak and what to say, and was a promising athlete. Atsumu had a harder time learning, was very emotional, said the wrong things at the wrong times, and he was also promising but he wanted to be better than all of that. 

Keep reading

You’re invited to the show

Pairing: Osamu x f!reader

WC: 12.7k oof

Tags/tw: light angst, happy ending, infidelity (by reader), mirror sex, manipulation, 5 minor (non hq) character deaths[illness, poison, and brute force], assault/mob typical violence

A/N: This is my contribution to the Church of Meian’s Mayfia Collab! The masterlist can be found here. My first of hopefully many submissions to this server <3 Thank you to @meiansmistress​ for being my wonderful beta, everything you touch turns to magic I swear.

“‘Samu, what'cha thinking 'bout?” You throw your arms around his waist where he stands on the rooftop, gazing out over the town. The setting sun bleeds pinks and yellows over his skin, lighting him up in a way that makes him seem warmer.

“Nothin’, angel.” He turns to look at you, dark eyes content but filled with an odd distance that makes your head tip to the side in curiosity.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, c'mere.” Osamu says, opening a spot for you to snuggle up under his arm, wrapping it around your waist and placing a warm kiss on your forehead.

He stays quiet, and while he usually is, it still feels different. Out of place. “You sure you’re okay, baby?” You press gently, wanting to make sure he’s not holding something in on your account. 

Osamu contemplates for a moment, eyes dark and thoughtful. “Ya ever wish ya had been dealt a better hand, that it might make life easier?”

Your face dawns with melancholy understanding. “Is it your mom again?”

“’S getting worse,” Osamu sighs heavily, his arm tightening around you as if he was subconsciously seeking comfort. “Every month she gets worse. Hospital bills are three months late 'n Dad’s starting to—” He breaks off with a frustrated groan, pulling you fully into his embrace. “I shouldn’t be worryin’ ya with this. Sorry baby, don’t mind it.”

“You know I want you to rely on me,” you reply, heart aching as you think about his family. Your boyfriend’s mother had gotten sick last year, and their family had never been well off. Mr. Miya had started pulling double shifts, sometimes working eighty hour weeks just to support both his sons and keep the household running. 

“I know angel, you don’t have any idea how much I appreciate ya. Ya hold me together. I just… I just wish I could help. My dad can’t keep this up, ’s gonna kill him. I dunno what to do.”

“I’ve always got you, baby.” You hold his eyes, the despairing look in his earthy hues really starting to leave a sinking feeling in your gut. “You know I’ll always be there for you, no matter what.”

Osamu tips your head up, his lips touching yours once gently, then twice. “God, I hope so.”

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Chapter 2: Sink into me…

Undead!Akaashi x Female!Reader

Summary: Zombie fanatic and forensic scientist (Y/n) gets the shock of a lifetime one fateful Halloween night when she encounters a walking corpse. Will her brush with the undead lead to her demise? Or something much more dreadful: Love.

Warnings: Mentions of d3ath, very mild g0r3, and bl00d. My works will always say “acab”, if that bothers you then skip this fic lmao. Angst ahead!

Word Count: 2575

Masterlist. Prev. Next.

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atsumu.

atsumu is clingy.

because you'll find someone else eventually, so why not make the most out of what you have now?

random dates, bailing out of volleyball practice, sleepless sleepovers, study dates, café visits, drunk karaoke nights, late night drives, ruining his diet program so he could stuff his face with you, you name it.

he thinks you're too good for him and that you'll eventually find someone better than him.

he doesn't deserve you, he never did and never will.

you're too sweet to him! you care for him instead of trying to use him for his body or reputation.

this confuses the blond, he's only been used before, but how come he's the one who's worthy of your love.

no no no, this must be a joke, right?

yeah, that's what it is, you've probably been dared by your friends or something.

he still loves you, even with all these thoughts.

please remind him that he's enough.

hey ! join my taglist <3

taglist : @wispycecilia

the v.league’s off-season was the bane of miya osamu’s existence.

because unless his twin had plans to meet up with teammates or hit the gym, he tended to hang around the shop from noon to closing. and osamu loves his brother, really, but during onigiri miya’s second summer in operation, his presence at the shop...complicated things.

because you (their childhood friend), and osamu, had started dating two months ago.

the catch? neither of you had told atsumu yet.

in both your defence, he hadn’t meant for it to happen. but atsumu was busy with practice, gym sessions, and away games, and you were new to the city. you weren’t familiar enough to explore it alone, and didn’t have many friends at work yet, so you found yourself wandering into onigiri miya more often than not after work and on days off.

it wasn’t long until osamu had started to know (and look forward to) when you would walk through the door. he’d always have, without fail, a plate of your favourite onigiri waiting for you. the two of you would stay way past closing, chatting in the dim (admittedly sensual) lighting, as you helped him prep food for the coming day. then he would walk you home, excited to see you again tomorrow.

and four months later, he’d started greeting you with onigiri and a soft kiss to your temple, your nose, your lips. the two of you still stayed past closing, but food prep was filled with teasing touches, and sometimes put off in favour of slow dances to whatever soft tune filled the kitchen. the two of you looked ridiculous, swaying softly while donning aprons and plastic gloves, but when you’re young and in love, who cares?

but now that the volleyball season was over and atsumu was around now more than ever, there were no impromptu kisses or slow dances in the kitchen. not until either of you could work up the courage to tell him. he came by too unpredictably to risk it.

the two of you had initially put it off because atsumu had been in tokyo when you’d gotten together, agreeing that it’d be better for him to focus on the match.

then, he’d come home with a narrow defeat and had been a little sulky, so you’d decided to wait until he was in better spirits.

but then the defeat had spurred him to train harder than ever before the divisional championship, and he’d been busy so the two of you had just…never gotten the chance to tell him.

“we really need to tell him soon,” you’d argued one night. atsumu had fallen asleep on your couch after dinner (another failed attempt to tell him), and osamu had snuck into your room when he’d been sure his twin was asleep.

“it might be weird though. he’d…know.” osamu had said with a wrinkle of his nose. “and he’d be third-wheeling us all the time.”

“he does that all the time already. he just doesn’t know it.”

“yeah, but don’t you think if he knew, he’d be more annoying?”

unbeknownst to both of you, he’d find out the next day.

it’d all started when one of the staff had gone home sick with a couple hours until closing. osamu, in a moment of complete weakness (and a little guilt) had agreed to let an extremely bored atsumu work the register.

you’d been happy to supervise, of course, because atsumu got way too easily distracted by anything and everything under the sun. but then you’d gotten a text.

>> tell that scrub you’ve gotta get salt from the pantry.

said scrub waves you off when you tell him, too busy tallying up some change to spare you a second glance. so you make your way back into the kitchen, excitement bubbling in your chest.

you don’t even get a chance to open the pantry door yourself, because an arm shoots out and snatches you by the waist, yanking you inside. osamu flicks the lights on, pulling his cap off to run a hand through his hair as he grins down at you.

“‘hi there,” you laugh when he immediately pulls you into him, peppering kisses all over your face. “what’s gotten into you?”

“didn’t get to kiss you all day,” he murmurs against your skin. “need to make up for it.”

“‘tsumu’s here though,” you argue half-heartedly, biting your lip to stifle a moan when he trails slow kisses upon the column of your neck.

“he’s workin’ the register. there’s math involved,” he says, slipping his hand up the back of your t-shirt. “trust me, he’ll be occupied for a while.”

“he was always horrible at--” you’re cut off when his hand grasps the back of your neck, preventing you from escaping as he pulls in you into a kiss that’s sloppy, open-mouthed, and desperate. you hungrily push back, the weeks of quick, stolen kisses and light touches hadn’t nearly been enough to satiate either of your desires.

(especially not with the cockblock currently working the register)

you don’t argue when he uses one hand to tug impatiently on the hem of your shirt, your own fumbling to undo his belt buckle.

you’re both so drawn into the kiss, absorbed in the sensation of your hands on each other’s skin, that no one notices the buzz from osamu’s cell.

and of course, it’s when your shirt is halfway up your torso, and osamu’s belt is hanging loosely around his hips, that the pantry door opens, revealing one shocked looking atsumu.

osamu curses quietly, immediately stepping in front of you as he fixes his belt. he’s trying to stay composed, but he’s flushed pink from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck.

“tsum,” his voice is unusually strained. “who’s...who’s watchin’ the register?”

chewing on your bottom lip, you step to osamu’s side, and the blonde’s gaze flicks between the two of you as he clears his throat. “i, uh, accidentally locked it. i texted you to come help, but ya didn’t answer so i went looking for…” he doesn’t look at you, glancing at the ceiling instead. “you said you were looking for salt.”

“and i was helping her look,” osamu tries, prompting you to slap him on the shoulder.

“where? in her mouth?” atsumu asks incredulously. “you know, i thought this was a pantry, but apparently it’s a den for liars. i mean, my best friend and...my brother.”

“well, she was technically my friend first--”

“my best friend and my brother!”

“tsumu,” you laugh nervously, taking a few steps towards him. “i’m sorry we didn’t tell you, okay? we were going to! then you lost the match in tokyo--”

“tokyo!” he exclaims loudly, throwing his hands up. “that was two months ago! you’ve been hooking up for two months?!”

“dating,” your stupid, stupid boyfriend corrects, only causing his twin to wail louder.

it takes a good five minutes for him to calm down, heaving a larger than necessary sigh. “look, i’m happy for ya both, i am! just tell me one thing, and maybe i’ll consider forgivin’ ya both,” he sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “who came onto who first?”

you and osamu share a quick glance, shrugging. you both point at each other, saying, “you did.”

you gasp. osamu stares at you in confusion.

“oh,” atsumu snorts, patting the two of you on the shoulders. “this is going to be so fun.”

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒’ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃

with: tobio, oikawa, atsumu, samu + kita.

a/n: they’re doing their best ok :’(( love is just rly hard. <333

ps: wrote this in 15 mins cus my brain was overflowing pls forgive the messy writing my heart is just exploding right now.

🗝 kageyama immediately panics and asks you how he can fix it; he knows he’s a little clueless when it comes to relationships, but he didn’t think he was doing that badly until he saw the look of hurt in your eyes at your confession. when he started your relationship he told himself he’d go into it with no inhibitions— that he’d love you fully, opening up parts of himself he’s never exposed to anyone and letting you see the good, the bad, and the ugly. the truth is, though, he got lost somewhere along the way— he settled on “good enough” instead of the crazy kind of love he knew you deserved because he was afraid of getting hurt. there’s nothing he won’t do to save your relationship, and after a few cups of hot chocolate and a long conversation that stretches into the early hours of the morning, you’re getting off on the right foot again and you’re more than excited to see what the rest of your relationship has in store. he promises himself he’ll try harder for you, because your kind of love is worth it. 

🗝 oikawa doesn’t believe you and thinks you’re joking; in his mind, he’s the perfect lover— handsome, funny, smart, playful, teasing, the list goes on… but he failed to realize all of the little ways that love can fail. it isn’t black and white, not as easy as it sounds. you’d had a suspicion his previous partners never really asked for what they wanted, too grateful to just have him in their live and afraid of upsetting him. but you’re not afraid of hurting his ego, not if it means you can reach a deeper level with him— somewhere no one else has gone before. once he swallows his pride and actually listens to you, quieting the voices in his head that scream at him to run away because rejection hurts, he’s opening himself up more and admits his ego is just a defense mechanism. you talk things out for a few hours and once he understands how you feel, he’s wrapping you up in his arms and kissing you with a softness you’ve never felt from him before. “i’ll be better for you, baby, i might just need a little help along the way.”

🗝 atsumu suddenly feels like he’s not so alone; he’s always been convinced he loved you more— that he was the one who’d get broken up with eventually once you realized he was a little too clingy or a little too loud for your tastes. you were always so pretty and put together— so he dialed it back for you because he thought you were worth being a “better” version of himself. but ultimately he lost the light within himself that drew you to him in the first place, his playful smiles and cheesy jokes no longer filling the silent space of your bedroom at night as you two drifted off together. he’s honestly relieved when you say you’ve been unhappy, because he has too. he just wants to be himself, and now that he knows he won’t lose you because of it, he’s pulling you into him and kissing you a million times like he used to. it’s the affection and silliness you missed the most— and your heart practically bursts when he asks if you can go for ice cream later because you get so excited every time, and that’s when he thinks you’re the cutest.

🗝 osamu isn’t offended at all, he just wants to know how he can love you better; he’s always been a level-headed guy, calculating yet indifferent when it comes to things that don’t really matter. but you— you matter. he wants to give you everything in the world, he’d just been so busy with work and the restaurant that he’d forgotten how lonely it can feel falling asleep alone at night. you were always by his side when he needed you, but he wasn’t by yours, and it’s something he’s not quite sure he’ll forgive himself for right away. it’s a mature, quiet conversation that has you feeling like you two will be completely okay, because the way he listens makes you feel heard for the first time in a long time— and it occurs to you, all you really have to do is open up to osamu for him to try a little harder for you. you realize how truly perfect he is when you two make up and he’s immediately making your favorite dessert from scratch, just to spoil you a little. he acts like he’s over it but he holds you a little tigher that night, pulls you in a little closer, kisses you a little longer.

🗝 kita is dumbfounded and honestly feels guilty; he calmly asks you how he can be better and listens to every single word of your answer with tact. his grandma had always taught him to respect everyone, and love like there’s no tomorrow because there might not be. but with life getting in the way, he didn’t realize how lonely you were or the fact that he really was loving you from afar. the thing about kita is that he’s always known you were his whole world— the only person who made him think that maybe messes weren’t so messy, that things appearing neat were actually flawed and perfect. he’s in love with you and he knows all of the ways he wants to love you, he just has to remind himself to put them into action. he’s always caught up in the little things that, quite frankly, don’t matter all that much. its ok to be a little unorganized with love sometimes, and he realizes now more than ever that you were right— he hadn’t been loving you the way you deserved. but he’s going to try for you, because he knows he’s the man for you, he feels it in his heart just as much as you do.

a/n: idk what this is + it’s so rambly but just go with it ok :’)

host club twins but make them miya 🌹

★ 【鳥成】 「 🎃 」 ☆ ⊳ marisa // touhou project ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter

Haikyu!! MSBY Black Jackals

hey, somebody is here to pick you up

Haikyuu!! Chefs Stickers are now availbale on my Redbubble!

https://www.redbubble.com/people/Suncelia/shop

“Red Velvet”

[ 5:59 a.m ] - MIYA OSAMU

“you ever sleep?,” you yawn, resting an arm on your roommate’s shoulder, looking at the screen he’s staring at - the time reading six a.m. he’s been studying all night. again.

”ya ever mind yer business?,” osamu answers, shoving you off, “yer up too, if ya didn’t notice.“

“hey, i just woke up!,” you walk over to the coffee maker, putting in some hot water, “but ya’ve been up all night,” you raise an eyebrow, “haven’t you?”

”whatever,” he mumbles, looking over at the piles of books, “leave ‘m alone,” -he picks up his textbook and waves it around-, “a’ve got assignments to do.“

”aight, grumpy ass,“ you scoff light-heartedly, stretching your limbs as you wait for your cup of coffee, resting your elbows on the counter. “ya want some?”

”how are ya so perky early in the morning?,” he turns to look at you, only getting a shrug in response. ”because i sleep,” you pick out another mug for him, “at night - like a normal person.“ pouring his share of the coffee, you set it down on the table, pulling a chair to sit next to him. you look at him carefully, observing.

osamu has always seemed interesting - from the day he’d moved in as your roommate, to now, when you’d say you’ve leveled up to friends.

his t-shirt is crinkled - the grey fabric decorated with some stains - probably something he was eating before. deep bags line the bottom of his eyes, the skin dark in contrast to his otherwise pale complexion. his hair are fluffy - in all their dyed glory; they look so soft, sticking out all over, messy strands falling onto his forehead - his signature put together look absent. his hair look like they smell good too.

you really want to touch ’em.

so of course, you being you, do exactly that.

“what are ya doin’?,” his muted voice speaks as you raise your hand to slowly place it on his head, your fingers extending.

”shhh,” you hold up a finger to your mouth, “just, hold on for a minute,” you tell him, grinning when osamu gruffs in acknowledgment, “fine.“

you stretch your hand nicely, running your fingers through osamu’s hair. it feels good, they’re soft — to be honest, you weren’t completely expecting them to be. after a solid five minutes, you‘re about to retract your hand - when his voice stops you.

“can ya-“ he hesitates, sighing as he sets down his textbook, “-do ya mind doin’ that a little longer?”

”sure,” you reply, walking over to the couch - osamu lets out an internal groan at the loss of contact, following you with his hands in his pockets, posture bent.

“c’mere then,“ you point to your lap as you sit up straight on the couch— perhaps trying your luck at flustering the man - which seems to fail as he simply obliges, placing his head on your thighs as his legs rest up on the couch.

you didn’t actually expect him to lay his head on your lap - you pause for a second, shocked, before he pulls your hand onto his head - making you resume.

“now yer choosing to be shy?,” his lips curve into a smirk on your skin, your hands moving to his forehead - almost instantly curing his headache and making him release a soft groan.

well so much for flustering osamu.

it goes on a while— sitting in silence until you hear a little snore, looking down to see osamu‘s body going up and down slowly, his arms resting under his head - he’s using your thighs as a pillow.

he looks so peaceful, so perfectly serene - something you’ve not seen in a while— a stark contrast to his usual deadpan expression, his lips form a pout; his nose slightly nudging you as his legs spread out behind him, falling off the couch (damned tall people with long legs).

your phone kept on the couch suddenly buzzes, causing you to panic and cut the call before it disturbs osamu. (he deserves some rest, after all). others can wait.

”goodnight,” you whisper, readying yourself to move— about to transfer his head onto a pillow - deciding to leave him alone, considering how he may get embarrassed later.

just as you start lifting up your knees— osamu’s gruff voice speaks up, hands gripping on tighter to you.

“stay.“ he’s never felt this comfortable - he feels loved in your arms; and doesn’t want you to let go.

and as you glance at his face, heart warming at his actions; kissing his forehead as you settle down - he can rest assured you won’t let go anytime soon.

you grin at the side of his head, yawning as your hands slip around him. it’s nice, to be friends with your roommate.

and maybe, just maybe, you could level up to something more.

reblogs appreciated !!

can i request some osamu x gn reader fluff please? maybe where the reader is ace? if not that’s okay too! i really love your blog and writing btw thanks for sharing your work with all of us ♥️

Thyme | Miya Osamu

A/N: THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

Tags; GN Reader, Fluff, Super Fluffy, Young Love, Butterflies in your gut kinda love.

Masterlist

The stars made their appearance earlier this time of the year. The leaves have fallen from their harbored homes settling on the ground in unorganized piles. Cold breezes had a mean streak to their name as they nip at your exposed skin. The tip of your nose is red like your scarf, however you didn’t seem to mind.

“Sorry we’re closed.” A voice followed the door chime from the back of the store, all too familiar for you to think twice about. You set your things down on a table closest to the counter as the grey headed twin pokes his head out from behind the curtain. “I’m sorry we- hey you.” He tosses the towel he was using on the counter meeting you on the other side. The instant light on his face gives you life. “You’re early.”

He eyes your things and focuses in on your burning cheeks.

“Come back here.. I need your opinion.”

“Is this where you murder me for knowing too much? Because if so, I’d like to formally turn down this opportunity to get to know you better.” You stall in the walkway to the kitchen, when he grasps your hand with a smirk to his lips.

Before you, an array of ingredients is still set up in neat piles. The fresh vegetables and perfect cut of fish each had their own purpose like everything in his life; however, what are the chances he’s attempting to fill a void.

The eerie sound of silence echos throughout the store. He must be lonely without Atsumu.

“I have to come up with our monthly special.” Osamu examines the material for a moment longer then turns to you. The way your eyes attempt to observe from his point of view, the creative yet functional use of his colorful materials has you biting your lower lip. “If you bite any harder you’ll give yourself a bloody lip.”

Osamu chuckles repositioning himself.

“Do... do you want to...” He offers you a ball of rice. “Here, let me show you.”

Osamu molds his fingers around yours and all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. The lump in your throat, of all the things you could be focusing on right now, it’s the texture of his hands, well, the lack thereof.

Thought they’d be rougher...

You flush under the spell he’s casted, forcing entirely on his hands.

Detail for detail. How are his hands so soft... so gentle? He’s so careful not to break the mold and the way he guides you around the rice, you’d would have never believed it by the way he served a volleyball.

The smell of his cologne lingers with his body heat, contrasting his tomb like hands.

His chest rises and falls behind you with each breath.

“What’s your favorite?” Osamu’s question catches you off guard. In your hands he formed a perfect little rice ball ready for it’s special ingredient.

“Surprise me.” You flush and he grabs the spicy tuna concoction he had made. “Here.”

Beside you he steps allowing himself to focus on the full picture. He pinches a corner of the rice off splitting the onigiri in two, slowly feeding you the piece. His thumb lingers on your bottom lip as the blush catches up with both of your faces.

Immediately your reaction is to hide away, to shield your face with your hands, however Osamu is quicker.

“Don’t.” He chuckles capturing your wrists at your sides, taking a moment to close the gap between you two. “It’s cute.”

Your heart accelerates if that’s even possible, your breath hitching in your throat.

With a soft smile he whispers to catch your attention. “I think you’re very cute.”

His thumb lightly grazes your jaw, he kisses you with the softest of lips.

For what felt like an eternally, it also seemed so brief.

Osamu rests his forehead on yours, his hands hovering your arms until finally finding your waist.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.” He feels the heat your cheeks give off. “That’s my favorite flavor so far.” Your eyes remain shut, but you can feel him beside you. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable sharing that one with the public, however.”

The heat from Osamu’s touch lingers as he breaks from you to break down the kitchen. “I think that one should be my very own secret ingredient.”

“And what does that taste like?” You choke on your words watching him distract himself.

“You?” He glances at you. “Sweet. Like sugar.” He clears the counter top and turns off the light behind him. The only light lingering is from the front of the store on the opposite side of the curtain. Your fingers hardly graze the curtain when you’re pulled against the wall, hands pinned on each side of your waist.

The blood rushes to your cheeks with an audible gasp.

“Addictive, like my own personal ecstasy.” Osamu presses his lips against yours once more, this time with more aggression than the light peck from before. “I just had to try it again.”

His hands linger on your hips feeling your own creep to his chest.

That breathless feeling in your chest as though it may give out was enough to leave you quivering by his touch.

This side of Osamu you never imagined before. The way his touch feels electrified, each pulse in your arteries was enough to send you into cardiac arrest, and even more to bring you back.

Two, three, four more times he’s coming back for another kiss.

“What about the monthly special?” You gasp breaking from him.

“I’ve found higher priorities in something else.” He nips at your lip. The way your pounding heart rests in your chest, like it will escape on parole, leaves you nervous. All this excitement at once; the breaking of boundaries severs the ties of friendship you’ve woven together for the period of time has every option of opportunity possible.

“Hmm and what is it?” You feel his smirk on your lower lip.

“Walking a sweet honey home.” He winks leaning away from you.

“Sweet honey?”

“A delicacy.”

“Food puns, Osamu?” You snort unamused and he sighs.

“Do you find my behavior fishy?” He smirks with pleading eyes. You shove him away only to make his smirk grow.

“That’s it I’m leaving.”

You threaten for the door when he holds your position firm.

“Now, now Sweet Thing. Look at the situation you’re in. You and I both know you’d rather have me walking you home than some creep hiding in an alleyway.”

“Miya Osamu!” You gasp. “Don’t you dare say something like that.”

“I’m just here to keep you sweet, Honey.”

Your eyes roll as a blush creeps on to your cheeks. “I’m really getting second hand embarrassment from you.”

“Eh you adore me.”

“Ehh...”

“Just give me a second to lock up.”

Sweet glances were stolen by Osamu as he finishes his duties, just as fast he’s brushing his fingers against yours in the cold, crisp winter air. Despite the morgue-like temperature of his fingers, when they lace with yours, it’s heaven.

Heartbeats racing, not one word crosses your minds until finally you’re at the foot of your door and he has to make the decision to let yours go.

“I was dreading this part.” His cheeks turn pink. His warm eyes study your face.

Lips. Cheeks. Nose. Eyes.

“What?” You flush looking down at your shoes.

Two cold fingers guide your chin upward, and lips greet yours for the last time that night. A small smile, and your heart is bursting.

“Sweet dreams, Y/n.”

His hand drops and he steps back to allow to enter your home.

To watch him wave from the window, it’s hard to believe he is from the same bloodline as his twin.

Alone in your bed you stare at the ceiling in disbelief.

The taste of his lips, the touch of his skin...

Your phone lights up and a simple text message has your heart racing.

“I really like you.”

chapter 8. never again │ belle âme series

ღ genre: angst, angst, and fluff

ღ warning/s: swearings, toxic boyfriend behavior, blood

ღ word count: 2k

a/n: am i back? sadly, no. not atm. it'll probably be a long break again before i get to post another chapter?? hopefully not. it'll be exam week tom and i'm literally just squeezing this in bc i'm kinda free? HASDHASAKDJ but yay chapter 8, anw thank you for being so patient with me i honestly love you guys hope you enjoy !!

masterlist │ next

You blink, once, and twice.

He loves you? Still, loves you?

He takes a step towards you, tears forming in his eyes.

"Please take me back," he pleads, voice shaky and you bite on your lip. It's taking everything in you to not break your resolve. You look away, taking a step back, Kei's heart shatters as you move away from his touch.

"No," you state with so much conviction that you were sure there was no room for arguing. "No, Tsukishima. We're done."

It turns quiet and it's suffocating as the two of you stand in front of each other. You slowly look at him, and you feel yourself start to shake underneath his gaze. It was soft, and sorrowful just a while ago, but now? It's dark and there's a murderous gleam behind the softness in his eyes as he walks slowly to you. Instinctively, you take a step back each time he gets closer.

"But, I still love you?"

"And, I don't," you shout as fear comes to seep in your bones and you begin to shake but, you stood your ground. "So, enough already!! Just let me go."

"Do you know how miserable I've been?"

Kei backs you into a wall and he stops, as tears start rolling down his face. You didn't like this, you're scared, frightened, you didn't want this.

"I-I missed you so much," he starts as hot tears continuously roll down his face. "You left me. You left me all alone!!"

"That's because I've had enough of our relationship!!" Even as you didn't exactly state what made you leave— Kei's toxic behavior— He understands the underlying meaning of your words.

"I had every right, Tsukishima!"

"You don't."

You furrow your brows as you look for a means of escape. His eyes darken fully, one you've never seen before during the time you were with him, and you surely don't want to know now what'll come after it.

"You had no right!! I never agreed to break up with you. Breaking up with someone requires an answer from both parties!!"

"It doesn't have to be that way!! I left because I didn't want to do this anymore," you reason with him, and your voice rises with the next words. "You barely let me do anything I wanted when we were together, and now you're taking away my right as well to decide what's best for me??? Jesus Christ Kei, give me a break!!"

A pause.

"We're not together anymore, stop controlling me!!"

"I'm the best for you!!"

He shouts and grabs your wrist harshly, pulling you towards him. Tears start to roll down your eyes as you fight and pry away his bone-crushing grip on you. You have no idea what could happen to you and you're kind of helpless because he's a lot taller and stronger than you. You knew that you would never win a play fight with him during the 3 years you've been together, as he always manages to pin you down.

"Take me back, please," he pleads, voice shaky and hurt. "I'll never hurt you again, I promise."

"You're hurting me right now!!"

Your sobs get louder as you beg him to let you go.

"I can't let you go, you'll run off again."

"E-nough, Tsukishima," you plead in between broken sobs. "Stop it, just let me go!!"

He furrows his brows and lets go of your wrist harshly, making you fall to the ground. He groans and looks away before slowly crouching down to meet your eyes.

"It's because of that onigiri owner, no?"

Your eyes widen as you rub on your wrist, pushing yourself with your feet to scoot away from him, only for your back to hit the wall. Kei catches the way your eyes widen and he scoffs.

"I saw," he starts, eyes dark and mean. "I saw everything that day when you left me."

You're at a loss for words as tears stream down your face. This isn't the Kei you loved, this man crouching in front of you is different. Kei would never hurt you physically during your relationship, but here he is.

"I always knew he liked you," He shakes his head before he smiles. "How his gaze would linger on you longer than normal. It pisses me the fuck off."

You furrow your brows at what he said. Osamu likes you? Shaking your thoughts mentally, you put on a brave face.

"Leave Miya out of this."

He looks at you, disbelief written all over his face before mocking you.

"Or what?"

You furrow your brows and frown. He laughs at you trying so hard to protect Osamu when you can't even defend yourself. He grabs your face brutally with one hand, forcing you to look at him.

"I'll make him pay for stealing you from me," he starts and you begin to sob again, shaking your head.

"You can't protect him, can you?"

You start to hit him for you to defend yourself, but he grabs both your wrists, stopping your assault.

"Don't hurt me, sweetheart. I'm only taking back what's mine."

He smiles and laughs as you whimper in his hold, screaming at him to let you go. The last thing you could think of was kicking your way out, and you did, successfully hitting his nose with your knee. He groans as he lets go of his hold on you. The harsh impact you inflicted on him, made him fall to the ground and you quickly crawled away from him, scrambling to get on your feet. He sees you running away, and it makes him angry as he starts to stand up to chase you. You're sobbing, eyes blurry as you make your way to the genkan, only to bump into something... someone??

"What's going on?"

Oh, how fast your worries dissipated when you heard his voice. He's panting and his breathing is ragged.

Looking up through watery eyes, you make out the figure of Osamu looking down at you. His eyes widen and concern replaces his features as he holds your shoulders.

"Hey, hey what hap-"

"Kei!!"

He looks up to see Tsukishima walking towards you both, a bone-chilling aura surrounding him. There's blood running down his face and Osamu wastes no time in putting you behind him. He puts a protective arm in front of you, and he slowly backs away, pushing you out the door.

"Grab my keys and run to the car. Lock the door, go hurry."

You nod and let a sound of affirmation, he hands you the keys and you run, clutching your things for dear life— Osamu drove you here and he was supposed to wait in the car, but unbeknown to him, you were taking so long and it had him worried. So, he had decided to go check up on you, and he's so glad he did. The minute he heard you screaming from the hallway, he wasted no time in running to come get you. Tsukishima stops just in front of Osamu, and the gray-haired twin didn't falter when he stared him down. Yes, he may be taller but, that doesn't let Osamu faze him.

"What did you do to them?"

Tsukishima scoffs and rolls his eyes, "Are you their boyfriend?"

Osamu grits his teeth and clenches his jaw as he looks at the former Karasuno middle blocker. He has grown a lot taller when he last saw him.

"No."

Tsukishima laughs before his face falls into a more sinister look.

"Then get the fuck out of my way."

"No," Osamu retorts making Kei angrier. "I will not let you near them."

Kei furrows his brows deeper and glares at Osamu, but he never falters. The twin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"Look," he starts, "I don't want to hurt you because I don't think that's fai– No it is, after what you've done to them but, I won't resort to being physical."

"Why?"

"Because that's just not who I am."

Osamu puts his hands in his pockets before walking away slowly. Kei makes no signs of stopping him so the gray-haired twin continues backing away.

"Leave them alone," he turns his back towards him before holding the doorknob but, before he can leave the apartment he looks over his shoulder and sends a death glare to the blond.

"And, if I ever see you fucking near them, I'll make sure to break my promise of not hurting you."

He slams the door and walks away, leaving Kei all alone once again. The minute he closes the door he runs, he runs as fast as he can to get to you.

A few minutes pass and you see Osamu running to the car, making you open the lock. You're still shaking from what happened, traumatized because of it, and you're so glad Osamu came in the right time. When he opens the door to the driver's seat, he immediately locks the door and looks at you.

"Hey," he calls your name out softly. "Look at me."

You slowly turn your head towards him and his heart shatters, there are small bruises on your cheeks which he can only assume came from Kei's grip. He slowly and hesitantly reaches out to grab your hands, scared that he might overstep his boundaries.

"C-can I?" he asks a little unsure, and heart heavy. But, when he sees you give a small nod he feels relieved. His heart feels lighter that you let him in your walls, allowing him to enter your space. He grabs your wrists and furrows his brows, as he inspects the dark purple coloring your wrist.

I should've inflicted at least one punch in Kei's face— he thought to himself. He puts one of your hands in his, making sure not to hurt you, before starting the car and driving away.

It's quiet, but comforting as he held your hand, rubbing his thumb over it every now and then, and he looks at you from his peripheral just to check up on you. During the whole ride, you can't help but think of what Kei said.

"I always knew he liked you."

It made you rattle your brain as you sort out your thoughts. You look at the hand Osamu was holding and thought to yourself.

Friends hold each other's hands, right?

There was no way he liked you, he had made it clear to you because when some of the customers in Onigiri Miya flirted with him, he would always reject and tell them that he wasn't looking to be in a relationship. So why would he like you, when he wasn't in the market for dating?

I mean, yeah he's nice, but that's normal for friends, right?

Osamu makes a turn and he stops just in front of their apartment complex. You were so caught up in your own little bubble of confusing thoughts that you completely missed Osamu calling your name softly until he gently squeezed your hand.

"Hey," he calls out again when you finally look at him. There's a sad smile on his face as he turns his body to face you. He slowly reaches a hand out to cup your face and you tense up, he catches this almost immediately which makes him pull away. You don't know whether you'd be relieved or disappointed when he respected your boundaries, because at the moment you just wanted to be held but at the same time, you can't help but feel nervous around him especially after what Kei said. You sigh before looking down, shaking your head to clear your clouded mind, and you decided not to let it affect you, as you pushed away the phrase to the very back of your mind. Swallowing your pride and ego, your eyes begin to water once more before whispering.

"P-please hold me."

You curse yourself for showing your weaknesses in front of Osamu because you're too much of a burden to him already. He has always been there for you but you never once repaid his kindness— His eyes widen but, he immediately grabs your head and pulls it to his chest. He wraps you in a comforting and warm embrace, as he allows you to feed on your selfish desires because he loves you.

© akithesimp. please do not plagiarize, claim, modify, or repost as your own│reblogs will help a lot, and it’ll be much appreciated ღ

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if your name is blue and bold i couldn’t tag you

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.”

Keep reading

cause i can’t stay with someone else

despite wanting to rip his brother’s head off, osamu sits next to him. “i can already tell the next few days are gonna be a bitch,” he groans while atsumu laughs.

“i don’t need ya to keep me company, samu.” atsumu teases, pinching his brother’s cheeks. “y/n will take care of me. she’s been lookin’ forward to this fer weeks.”

osamu freezes again, thinking back to how you were buzzing with anticipation before atsumu’s arrival, anxiously waiting by the front door for him. everything’s going to revert back to when you were kids again. walking with atsumu hand-in-hand while osamu is left alone in the corner.

he’s going to ruin everything.

she's finally here and she's a big bitch. i've been stressing over this for months and it's finally out. would've been here sooner but work, life, and my own head got in the way. so many of you have been asking for this and i was so worried of letting people down. i really hope you like it and put my lil brain at ease 🥺

words: 8.1k (i'm sorry)

cw: fem!reader, bullying, name-calling, jealousy, insecurity, fingering, floor sex, slight dubcon, slight somnophilia, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, lots of italics, very long-overdue love confession, let me know if i didn’t tag anything, minors dni

disclaimer: on this blog, we discuss and explore toxic relationships/situations/ just because i write about these themes does not mean i condone/support these types of relationships nor do i do them in my own personal life.

these are fictional characters in fictional scenarios and nobody should be taking real-life advice or mirror the actions of the characters in these stories!

“The fuck ya smilin’ so much about?” Osamu says when you show up at his place that day. You’ve been so giddy the past few days, practically bouncing with every step. Osamu’s harsh words didn’t even phase you, it was almost as if you weren’t even listening to him.

“You seriously don’t know?” you ask, barely able to contain the smile on your face. Osamu eyes you curiously, you’re never this expressive (unless Osamu did something particularly mean to you) but Osamu doesn’t feel like playing your games today.

He turns on his heel to head back to his room. “If yer not gonna tell me, I’m takin’ a nap,” he grumbles, hoping you’d join him but you’re sitting on the couch looking at the front door every once in a while. Osamu stops for a second...Couldn’t be. He thinks before continuing back to his room to shut his eyes.

His sleep doesn’t last long. About an hour later, Osamu’s stomping back into the living room ready to yell at you for waking him up with your shrieking. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you in the arms of someone else.

Atsumu.

It’s as if you leaped into his arms after he walked through the door. His bags are dropped near his feet as he holds your weight, laughing along with your excitement. You don’t even spare him a passing glance as you bombard Atsumu with questions about how training camp is going. During your rambling, Atsumu’s brown eyes flick over to his younger brother, smiling at the grimace on his face.

“Ya said ya weren’t comin’ back for another week,” Osamu says, crossing his arms. You finally turn your head to where he’s standing and your eyes widen for a second—fear?—but Atsumu curls his arm tighter around your waist and offers his twin a shrug.

“Vacation started early,” he smirked, walking towards the couch while still holding you. He plopped down, with you in his lap. “Thought I’d surprise ya.” It was a surprise as far as Osamu was concerned. He thought he had more time until the hurricane that was his loudmouthed brother eventually came home.

It had been a few months since Atsumu had been back. He had been off at training camp since graduation. At first, he came home every other weekend but as the training became more intensive, he decided to stay at camp longer to focus on his regimen. Osamu remembers the day his brother left. Atsumu had been your best friend since childhood and when he went off to camp, you couldn’t stop crying. The never-ending flow of tears pissed Osamu off to the point that he eventually did something about it.

It ended up with him fucking you in Atsumu’s bed.

Since then, it was Osamu whose shadow you were always in. Talking to him so sweetly and doing whatever you could to please him. He didn’t have to share you with anyone but now his biggest competition is back and it isn’t even a fair fight. Five minutes in, and you’re practically straddling him talking nonsensically about all the things you can do now that he’s home. Osamu’s fuming but he doesn’t react, he’s been in this position before.

“Oh, you’re probably starving. We should get some food,” you say, moving off his lap to grab your phone. “I bet you’re not in the mood to cook, Samu. Let’s order something!” Atsumu hums in agreement, never taking his eyes off you as you walk out the room to figure out what to eat.

Once you’re gone, Atsumu turns his attention back to the upset man in the room. “Not gonna give yer brother a hug?” he asks, comically holding his arms out.

But Osamu is ready to clock him in the jaw for that stunt he pulled. Most people know to stay away from you if they know what’s good for them. Osamu was never too far away from you most days—walking you to and from class with an arm wrapped around your waist. Any guy who was dumb enough to try to get with you usually became well-acquainted with Osamu’s fist. But Atsumu is the only person he couldn’t face, not when you looked at him as if he hung all the stars in the sky.

Osamu always locked up when Atsumu was around. Everyone favored his brother—he was the nicer twin, the life of the party, people loved being in his presence. You were no different. Osamu can think back to all the times you ran into his brother’s arms, much like you did today, after “big, bad Samu” hurt your feelings.

With his brother gone, Osamu showed a different side of him. Sure, he’s still calling you an “idiot” every other sentence but Osamu noticed you leaning into his touch, asking for kisses, and holding his hand absentmindedly. Things you never did when Atsumu was around.

“So ya told her you were comin’ back but not me?” Osamu asks, ignoring Atsumu’s request.

Atsumu feigns a sad look. “She wanted to tell ya, but I thought this was funnier,” he smirks. “I was right.”

Despite wanting to rip his brother’s head off, Osamu sits next to him. “I can already tell the next few days are gonna be a bitch,” he groans while Atsumu laughs.

“I don’t need ya to keep me company, Samu.” Atsumu teases, pinching his brother’s cheeks. “y/n will take care of me. She’s been lookin’ forward to this fer weeks.”

Osamu freezes again, thinking back to how you were buzzing with anticipation before Atsumu’s arrival, anxiously waiting by the front door for him. Everything’s going to revert back to when you were kids again. Walking with Atsumu hand-in-hand while Osamu is left alone in the corner.

He’s going to ruin everything.

~

Osamu had been right when he said his brother’s visit would be exhausting. For the past few days, you and Atsumu were joint at the hip. If you two weren’t cuddling on the couch for a movie night, you were probably in the backyard tossing a volleyball around which usually ended with the two of you rolling around in the grass. If Atsumu’s need to be touching every part of your body wasn’t bad enough, he wasn’t shy about giving you compliments whenever Osamu walked in the room.

“Yer so pretty when ya smile like that,” Atsumu cooed one morning while Osamu was making breakfast—it took all his energy not to fling the skillet at his brother’s head. To make it worse, you’d blush every time he threw a stupid line like that. Osamu tried to ignore it but it seemed as though Atsumu made it his mission to shower you with affection.

“You’re mad,” you pointed out. Atsumu had left the house to hang out with some of his former Inarizaki teammates, leaving you and Osamu alone. You crawled into Osamu’s bed, mumbling the words against his lips. “Don’t be…”

He lets you kiss him, lets you run your fingers through his dyed locks. Osamu won’t admit that he’s missed your touch but when he inhales your scent, all he can smell is his brother. “Why didn’t ya go off with him?” he grunts, pushing you off before rolling on his side.

You don’t give up, though, wrapping your arms around him to be the big spoon. “Don’t be upset. It’s been so long since we’ve seen Tsumu. Obviously, I want to spend time with him,” you explain, doing little to soothe Osamu’s bad mood. “You should too, he’s your brother.”

“I’ve hung out with him enough to last a lifetime,” he huffs. Osamu can feel your hands wandering, stopping just as they’re about to slip past his pajama bottoms. Part of him wants to let you continue, but he can’t bring himself to. With his brother around, Osamu hasn’t had the chance to get his hands on you. Every time he turned a corner, you were perched in Atsumu’s lap, laughing at whatever bullshit he spewed out. When he was younger, Osamu would just get pissed off and sulk in his room but things feel different now. He’s been able to have you—he’s seen you writhing underneath him, moaning from his touch, and screaming his name. To see you hanging off his brother now stings a bit more. “Can ya fuck off? Go spend time with Tsumu since yer so worried about him.”

Osamu shoves you away, nearly pushing you off the mattress. He hears you whine in discomfort when your phone goes off. “H-hello?” you mumble, rejection heavy in your voice. Osamu doesn’t have to try very hard to know that it’s his brother on the phone. His annoying voice came through the speaker. “Uh, no, I’m not doing anything...yeah, I can meet you there.” Osamu caught the hesitation in your voice but tried not to dwell on it, you were still leaving him anyway. “No, you don’t have to come get me—oh, okay…”

The call ends a few minutes later, Osamu hears your footsteps fade as you leave the room. He wished you said something before you left but you were probably too scared that you would piss him off.

“Is she datin’ anyone?” Atsumu asks later that evening, once again bothering Osamu while he was cooking. You were next door at your place, grabbing a few things before returning for dinner. You must have been exhausted with the way Atsumu dragged you around everywhere.

“Excuse me?” the younger twin asks, staring at his brother incredulously.

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “y/n, stupid. I was askin’ Kita about it but he wouldn’t give me an answer. Figured if anyone knew it’d be ya.” he said, leaning on the counter. “You’ve been takin’ good care of her since I’ve been away, yeah?”

Osamu feels his face heat up, thinking about the last time the two of you had sex. You looked so cute in the new skirt you had on and Osamu couldn’t help himself—he had to embarrass you by flipping it up and showing off your pretty pink panties in front of your friends just to see the tears form in your eyes. You had bitched at him all the way home, crying about how mean he was being.

He thought you looked so adorable when you were upset, leaning in for a kiss in the middle of your ranting. “Ya ever shut up, ya fuckin’ brat?” he asks condescendingly, running his hands along your body. “Will ya stop cryin’ if I stuff you with my cock? Fill ya up ‘till all ya can think about is me?”

The way your eyes light up when Osamu talks like this never fails to amaze him. Such an innocent façade you put on for the rest of the world but only Osamu knows what a cock drunk little bitch you become, begging for “more, more, more” when he has you under him. He knows he doesn’t have to do all of this just to get you in bed but there’s a sick pleasure Osamu feels when he does something to make you upset. It makes you more eager to please, so submissive. There’s no better sight than you fucked dumb, whimpering how “it’s too much, samu”.

“Earth to Samu,” Atsumu grunts, snapping his fingers in front of his brother’s face. “Have ya been listenin’ to me?”

Shaking his head of his lewd thoughts, Osamu grumbles a response. “She’s not my fuckin’ problem. How should I know if she’s with someone?” he lies, going back to his food that, thankfully, hasn’t burned. “Why so concerned all of a sudden?”

Atsumu sighs dramatically. “I’ve thought about askin’ her out,” he muses, eyes giving his twin a once over before continuing. “Ya think she’d say yes? She’s always so affectionate when I’m around, it’s cute. Wondered if ya figured she’d be interested.”

Osamu’s ability to keep his composure has to be some kind of record. He can feel his vision blur and his hands clenching. For once, he thought he could have something to himself. Something Atsumu couldn’t ruin for him—like he’s done all his life. You might have been Atsumu’s friend growing up but the “relationship” you and Osamu shared was something his older brother could never understand.

He was going to mess it up, just like with everything else.

And Osamu couldn’t muster up the courage to tell him to back off. He wasn’t your boyfriend, something he’s made that clear to anyone stupid enough to ask. That never stopped him from getting jealous, though. Getting pissed off at you for letting another man flirt with you at a party or getting antsy when you ventured off too far from him. All he’s ever wanted was your attention but Atsumu’s always been the brighter, shinier one of the two.

“Do whatever ya want,” he says. “Not like I care.”

~

You started feeling tired after dinner, mumbling something about heading back home to rest. Atsumu offered his bed for the night but Osamu shuts it down quickly. “She can sleep on the couch,” he barks, shoving past his brother to get extra pillows and a blanket. He doesn’t miss the pained look on your face. It’s normally Osamu’s bed you sleep in, wrapped up in his arms every night. However, every time you tried to initiate something with him, Osamu pulled away. It’s to the point where he won’t even kiss you anymore and each time you get too scared to go any further.

But now, hours after both you and Atsumu had gone to bed, Osamu’s sneaking into the living room. You always looked so peaceful when you were sleeping. Normally, you were at your wits’ end, exasperated by Osamu’s revolving door of mood swings. So innocent, so easy to corrupt. Just the way he liked.

He curled up behind you, pulling you to his chest. The movement doesn’t seem to bother you as your form snuggles into him, as if you knew exactly what to do. Osamu takes a second to hold you—the past few days felt like an eternity and Atsumu’s words rattling around in his head have made it worse.

“I’ve thought about askin’ her out”

The thought of you in Atsumu’s clutches was too much. You’d fall so easily for his charms, everyone always did. He’d sweet talk you—fill your head with praises and promises to get you into his bed. He may have been your friend but Osamu staked his claim on you ages ago. Would that mean anything in the end?

Osamu’s hand is already down your shorts, fingers collecting the essence from your cunt. The familiarity of it all makes him groan in your shoulder. Softly, he runs his fingers along your slit, spreading your legs a bit for easier access. The constant prodding has you stirring in your sleep.

Still, Osamu refuses to slip inside you just yet, he wants to make you work for it a bit. There’s nothing you could have done to prevent Atsumu’s arrival, but he’ll gladly take his anger out on you. You slightly raise your hips, hoping for some relief in your slumber. Osamu holds you down, makes you take it at his pace. “Ahhh…” a sigh falls from your lips.

“I know,” he whispers, finally entering your warmth with two fingers. Your body tenses, mouth opening as a whine escapes. He shushes you as he angles his digits to reach for the sweet spot, the one that makes your walls spasm with pleasure.

“Samu,” you whimper, hands balled into fists. That’s right, he thinks, better know who you fucking belong to. He could tell you’ve been needy for him with how your slick coats his fingers. Osamu grinds his clothed cock against your ass—oh, how he wishes he could fuck you how he wanted, send you into a deep sleep with a belly full of cum. But you get so loud when he’s inside, tears running down your cheeks while getting railed.

What would Atsumu say if he saw? His precious y/n getting fucked by his younger brother who’s always been nothing but a menace to her since they were kids. Maybe Osamu should tell him how he took your virginity the night Atsumu left for training camp. How Osamu dragged you to his brother’s bed and had you bouncing on his cock. He should talk about how pretty you looked, cumming over and over until the only name you could remember was Osamu’s.

The sound of your cries brought Osamu back to the present, he had been ignoring your clit all this time and you were desperate for your release. Feeling generous, Osamu grinds the heel of his palm against your neglected bud, offering the stimulation you’ve been craving. Your head leaned back as another gasp escaped. Your hips started jolting, pitifully fucking yourself on Osamu’s fingers to reach your high.

Your eyes shoot open when you cum, creaming around Osamu’s hand with his name falling from your lips. He can feel his cock straining against his sweats as he feels your juices drench his fingers, the filthy sound of your pussy fluttering makes him harder with each passing second. He stops when your hand reaches for his wrist, your body shuddering from sensitivity.

Osamu shifts you around so you’re facing him, your breathing is still heavy as you try to calm down. “Just looked so pretty while you were sleepin’, dummy,” he hums against your lips. “Couldn’t help myself.” You sigh into his mouth when he kisses you properly, holding him close with your still-drowsy limbs.

He sucks in a breath when he feels you press your center against him, silently asking for him to fuck you. “Can’t,”

“But you’re hard,” you whine, moving your knee in between his legs to tease him more. Osamu moans at your touch, the pressure inside is telling him to push you on your back and have his way but he can’t bring himself to do it. Not when he’s upstairs. “Please?”

“Not tonight,” he says. That rejected look is back on your face before your brows furrow. To Osamu’s surprise, you return to your original position with your back facing him. “Don’t act like that—”

“Goodnight, Samu,” you bite back, not willing to hear him out anymore. For once, Osamu doesn’t have an insult to hurl at you, the urge to put you in your place isn’t there. Instead, he peels away from your form. He takes one last glance at you but you refuse to look at him. Feeling unwelcomed, Osamu heads upstairs to his room. He stops for a moment when he spots the door to Atsumu’s room and wonders if you’d say yes to him if he asked you out.

He shakes the thought away and continues down the hall.

~

Osamu ended up sleeping in the next day, the clock reading half past noon when he woke up. He doesn’t like being in bed that late and he wonders if you had breakfast in the morning.

He turns over to find you standing by his door with a hard-to-read look on your face. You shut the door behind you, crouching by Osamu’s bed. This feels wrong—you should have been in his bed last night, he should be holding you right now, whispering in your ear with a softness that was reserved for this time of the day. Osamu even made space for you on the mattress but you wouldn’t take it.

“What’s your problem?” you asked with a ferocity in your eyes that he’s not used to seeing. “I mean, really, Samu. Ever since Tsumu’s been here, you’ve been pushing me away. Did I do something?”

“What’re ya bitchin’ about now?” Osamu groans, rolling over to ignore you but your hand on his shoulder stops him. You keep it there, forcing him to face you.

“I’m serious, you’ve been so nasty to me...more than usual.” you’re looking at him in the eye, something else he’s not used to. “And last night—that was the first time you’ve touched me in days…” your cheeks flushed, thinking about Osamu’s fingers plunging in and out of you.

He thinks back to how you looked last night, delirious from sleep and his hand down your shorts yet still so willing to get him off. Even right now he wants you underneath him, to hold you close and feel every part of you. After hearing his lack of response, you puff out your cheeks and Osamu smiles softly. He’d never say it out loud but he finds your small defiance cute.

“Um, me and Atsumu…” you start and Osamu feels his stomach drop, fearing the words that are about to leave your lips. “We made breakfast this morning because we wanted to let you sleep and we started talking.” Your eyes flicked over at Osamu’s, the attitude you had completely disappeared. “He asked me out on a date.”

The sinking feeling in Osamu’s stomach starts to burn. He can feel the rage building up inside but he can’t take it out on you, he needs to think first. “Excuse me?”

Your cheeks flush, hands shaking a bit. “It came out of nowhere! We were talking about how he’s going back to camp soon and he was saying how much he missed me…” It’s as if you’re choosing your words carefully, worried what Osamu’s reaction might be. “And then he said that we should get dinner and at first, I thought he meant the three of us but… He said he wanted it to be the two of us—like a date.”

“What did you say?” he asks through gritted teeth. You stare at him sympathetically and Osamu knows you said yes. Once again he comes in second place to Atsumu, the golden child. How could he compare? He sits up finally, towering over you crouched on the floor, bracing himself for your answer.

“I told him I’d think about it,” your answer doesn’t make him feel better. You should’ve told him no right then and there. But then again, rejection has never been in Atsumu’s vocabulary. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

“What’s there to talk about, y/n?”

You shoot him an incredulous look. “I figured you’d have some opinion on it since—you know…”

“Because I fuck ya?” Osamu can feel the venom bubbling in his throat. He didn’t know why he was acting this way. “If ya wanna fuck Atsumu too, go ahead. I can’t control ya.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, Samu!” you snap, catching him off guard. “Just tell me you don’t want me to go.”

“I don’t care what ya do,” he says, getting out of bed and shoving past you.

But you, persistent as ever, followed him down the hallway. “You don’t care? You always seem to care when you think someone is flirting with me. Or when you caught Suna staring at my ass that one time.” you stand in front of his path to get his attention. “I know you don’t want me to go, just say it!”

You’re giving him a way out. I don’t want you to go out with him, he wants to say. I want you to stay here with me. But the insecurity creeping away at him wonders if part of you wants to be with his brother instead.

“I’m not yer boyfriend,” he says, his go-to argument. One that you’ve heard a million times.

“God, I’m so fucking tired of hearing that,” you reach for Osamu’s face, forcing him to stare back at you. He doesn’t want to talk about this right now. It would be so easy to brush you off and act like this conversation never happened—he’s done it so many times. But the look on your face tells him you’re not standing for it. “Sometimes I wonder if I actually mean anything. Am I just someone for you fuck, Samu?”

No, he thinks. Osamu can feel his hold on you, the one he’s worked so hard to keep, slipping away. Shouldn’t you know how he feels for you at this point? Why does he have to put a label on it?

Osamu’s the one who takes care of you when you’re sick, snapping at you for being so reckless with your health. He’s the one who picks you up at the bar when you’ve had too much to drink, who holds you when you’re having a bad day and all you want to do is cry. Why couldn’t you see that part?

But then he thinks of how you’ve been looking at him lately. Your arms reach out to touch him, to hold him, and he slaps them away. Brushing past you as if you hadn’t said anything. And every time he does it, you end up going to Atsumu. It’s history repeating over and over and Osamu doesn’t have the nerve to stop it.

Your frustrated sigh breaks his trance. “You can’t have me whenever you want and then act like you don’t care. Either I mean something to you or I don’t.”

He softens in your embrace. “Ya mean a lot more than just somethin’, y/n,” he says, fingers tugging at your shirt to bring you closer to him.

“How would I know that?”

There’s nothing Osamu wants more than to kiss you right now. He’s deprived himself of your touch for so long and he wants to drown in it. You’re mine, he thinks, you’ve always been mine, not his.

And who should round the corner at this very moment? “Am I interruptin’ somethin’?” Osamu peers over your shoulder and there he is, smirking as if he knows a joke that everyone else is privy to. Osamu feels your body tense up and your hold on him waver, it’s subtle but he notices it immediately.

He’s suddenly shoving you away from him. You would have fallen on your ass if Atsumu wasn’t there to catch you. “Hey!” Atsumu scolds as your body falls into his arms. “The fuck is wrong with ya?” Brown eyes shoot daggers at Osamu.

But he can only focus on how you look as if you’re about to burst into tears—eyes rimmed red and lip quivering. Why did he push you away again? Why was he always bringing you back into Atsumu’s grasp? Osamu opens his mouth to apologize, something he rarely ever does even when he knows he’s in the wrong. But the sad look on your face starts to harden and you’re staring at Osamu with a wave of anger he’s never seen before.

“I never answered your question, Tsumu,” you mumble, turning in Atsumu’s hold so you’re facing him. The blonde is a little confused at first but he catches on after seeing the small smile on your face.

“Really?” he asks as if he wasn’t furious just seconds before.

“Yeah,” you look up with a sparkle in your eyes that has only been reserved for him. Osamu wants to pull you away but he freezes upon hearing the last few words that leave your lips. “I’d love to go out with you.”

~

Osamu is in the kitchen when the two of you leave for your date. He wants to rip Atsumu’s head off when he wraps his arms around your waist. He’s never seen you look so excited about something and wonders if you’ll have a good time.

He distracts himself by drinking with friends but he can’t have a good time knowing that you’re probably giggling at one of Atsumu’s stupid jokes right now. His brother must be a blushing mess by now, bashfully admitting how he’s always wanted to ask you out. Would you fall for his lines and admit that you’ve always wanted him too?

What would happen when Atsumu eventually had to go back to training camp? Would you end back up in Osamu’s shadow, hoping for a sweet word from him? No, he thinks. He’s ruined any chance of that by now. He so desperately wanted you all to himself and he let you get away.

Not because Atsumu was better than him. Not because you didn’t want him. But because he couldn’t show that he had given a shit about you.

Osamu stares down at the amber liquid in his glass. He can’t remember how many drinks he’s had tonight, he just keeps asking the bartender for more. Taking his glass in hand, Osamu knocks back what’s left, feeling the alcohol burn in his throat.

“Geez, how drunk you trying to get?” Suna snorts, pausing the conversation he was having with Ginjima.

Osamu considers Suna’s words for a second, starting to feel the effects of the liquor in his veins. But he can still picture your hand on Atsumu’s chest, leaning in closer and closer until…

“Drunk enough to forget tonight,” he grunts, motioning the bartender to get him another drink.

“Don’t you think you’ve had too much?” Ginjima asks, a worried look on his face as Osamu sips his alcohol. But the fact that he’s still sober enough to remember that you and Atsumu are out on a date right now means that he needs more. Osamu’s looking to get absolutely shitfaced if it means he doesn’t have to see your face in his head anymore.

Somewhere in his haze, Osamu must have brought up the situation with Atsumu as Suna lets out a very fitting “Yikes,” and the mood shifts. Everyone knew about the strained relationship with the twins and how you were always in the middle of it—both of them tugging on your arm like you were a toy to be fought over.

They saw how Osamu’s demeanor changed when Atsumu went away. Sure, he was still an insufferable grump who saw red anytime another man so much as breathed near you. But when he was with you, he was softer—though he’d never admit that. You were the only one that could quell his anger and stop his emotions from getting the better of him.

He was so secretive at first when the two of you started fooling around. Nobody could know what went on between you but after a while, Osamu would tell on himself constantly with the firm grip he had on your hand. He’d hold you close, whisper in your ear, and eventually start kissing you in front of everyone but somehow expected his friends not to ask questions. We’re not dating. He’d say one minute before punching some dude at a party for thinking he could dance up on you.

“Funny,” Suna quips, nursing his own drink, though it’s still the only one he’s had all night. “I can’t believe Atsumu would ask her out again,”

“Again?”

Suna’s brow quirks. “You never knew? Astumu asked y/n out back in high school. Caught him crying in the locker room when she turned him down,”

Atsumu had asked you out before? And you turned him down? You had never mentioned anything about that to Osamu but, to be fair, the two of you weren’t exactly friendly to each other back then. As soon as Atsumu left for camp, Osamu made him a taboo subject to bring up in conversation. Most girls would have killed to be with his brother back then—even now, Atsumu can light up a room better than anyone else. But you had rejected him. Why?

But then Osamu remembers that you went out with Atsumu anyway while he’s sitting at a random bar. Whether or not you turned down Atsumu and why you did it doesn’t matter all that much.

He swallows the remainder of his drink and immediately orders a round of shots. Ginjimagroans while Suna, eager to get drunk as well, claps him on the back. But Osamu’s not trying to have fun tonight, he wants to forget how badly he fucked everything up—until your face is no longer etched in his brain.

It’s the middle of the night when Osamu makes it home, or he thinks so at least. He’s not sure how he managed to leave the bar but suspects Ginjima called him a cab. He stumbles through the front door, knocking into furniture with every step. He’s usually good at handling his liquor but that’s because you’re there, making sure he’s limiting himself.

His blurred vision prevents him from noticing everything blocking his path, bumping into chairs and tables as if he doesn’t know the layout of his fucking house. Going upstairs to his room would be too much of a hassle by now so, in his drunken state, he makes his way toward the couch to sleep there for the night.

At least, he tries to.

Osamu, the drunk idiot that he is, bangs his knee into the coffee table and crashes to the floor. “Shit,” he grunts, holding onto his knee in pain. It doesn’t help that his head is pounding and the room is spinning too. Osamu thinks he might have drunk too much tonight but, unfortunately, you’re still weighing heavy on his mind which means he didn’t have enough.

“Samu?” says a shrill, familiar voice. “What the hell are you doing here?”

A lamp flickers on and Osamu groans as the light hits his eyes. He waits for them to get used to the light before directing his attention to the source of the voice.

You’re at the foot of the stairs, scowling at the boy curled up on the floor. “You look like shit. Do you even know where you are right now?”

Osamu furrows his brow. He forces his eyes to focus on the living room. Only then does he realize that nothing looks right—the coffee table doesn’t have the broken corner on it from when the twins were play-fighting a few years back and the pictures hung on the wall look different.

This is your house.

It doesn’t take much brainpower to figure out that Osamu must have wobbled his way to your place instead of his. Your houses were right next to each other and he’s always had a spare key.

“Shit,” he grumbles, feeling stupid. His body is too sore to make the trek back home. He decides he’ll leave in the morning.

You’re next to him in seconds, kneeling at his side and helping him off the floor. “Let’s get you to the couch, okay?” Osamu grimaces—whether it’s from the pain in his knee or the fact that he can still smell the faint scent of your perfume, he’s not sure. He takes in the sight of you, your hair slightly tousled and framing your face, eyes full of concern, and lips plump and soft. He’s angrier than he’s ever been but more than anything he just wants to kiss you. That’s when he notices you’re wearing pajamas. A t-shirt that’s much too big for you and your cute sleep shorts. Only this one doesn’t look like his.

As you guide him across the living room and sit him down on the couch, Osamu grabs a fistful of the shirt and pulls you forward. “The fuck is this?” The force of him snatching you sends you down to your knees, staring up at him.

“It’s yours,” you say quickly, hoping he’s too drunk to notice that you’re lying. But you’re preaching to the choir. Osamu doesn’t own anything that looks like this—he knows someone who does, though.

“Is he upstairs? Did ya bring him here to fuck him?” That tried and true anger of his is festering in the pit of his stomach. His grip tightens, threatening to rip the fabric off of you.

“Samu, you reek of booze,” you try to reason, small hands fighting against him. “Nobody’s upstairs, okay? Nothing happened tonight.”

“Don’t believe ya. What the fuck would ya have this on, then?” You’re his. It didn’t matter if Atsumu got his clutches in you already, you always belonged to Osamu, even when you were little. Before you can open your mouth with some stupid excuse, Osamu’s pushing you to the floor and hovering over you. “How could ya hurt me like that?”

You scoff. “Like you haven’t been hurting me? What do you want from me, Samu?”

“Ya still don’t know?” Osamu pulls the ugly shirt off you, revealing your tits in the warm, dim light. He can tell you’re frustrated by the deep blush spreading across your cheeks. He’s refused himself of your body for so long. He’s going to devour you.

Osamu latches onto your breast, biting down on your bud. The whimper that leaves your lips goes straight to his cock. He should’ve done this days ago. “Samu! You’re too drunk, we shouldn’t.” Of course, one of you has to be responsible, Osamu figures but he’s not stupid. He can feel you grinding on his cock.

“So tell me to stop,” he says against your chest, hand slipping down to cup at your clothed cunt. He takes note of how your body tenses up when he does it. “That’s what I thought.” He sucks on your breast while his hand creeps past your shorts. Already so wet, he chuckles, running the tips of his fingers along your slit.

You can’t stop gasping, unable to grab onto anything to ground yourself, and balling your hands into fists. It’s so cute how you hump Osamu’s hand, eager to get off. He fumbles to undo his own belt, freeing his half-hard cock with one hand before he starts jerking himself off to the noises you’re making. It only makes you more desperate, cries leave your lips as you reach out to touch him.

“Oh, ya want my cock, dummy?” he coos, tugging your bottoms down and leaving you fully naked under him. He doesn’t miss how quickly you nod, yelping when his fat cock slides against your folds. Osamu ruts into you while he continues his assault on your tits—rolling your nipples in between his fingers and sucking at the sensitive skin. He makes sure not to catch the tip of his cock on your clit so you won’t be fully satisfied.

“Samu!” you whine, just like he knew you would. Your fingers tug on his hair, pulling him away from your chest. “Don’t tease me, please.”

The tears forming in your eyes make Osamu’s dick twitch. “Tell me how bad ya want it,” he orders, snapping his hips against your center so your thighs tremble. But you’re hesitating, eyes not meeting his as if you’re afraid to say what’s on your mind. Suddenly, Osamu’s heart is sinking to his stomach. Had he gone too far? Did he say something wrong?

His intrusive thoughts are interrupted when he feels your soft hands cradle his face. “I just need an answer, Samu. Am I yours or just someone you fuck?” A few tears run down your cheeks. “I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

Osamu presses his forehead against yours. “I’m not good at this,” he says, pinning your hands above your head, fingers intertwining. “But you’ve always been mine, y/n. All I’ve ever wanted was you.” With a kiss, Osamu sinks into your cunt and has to get used to how tight you are—it really has been too long.

The sensation drives you crazy as well, arms wrapped around Osamu’s neck, sobbing in pleasure. “Say it again,” you cry against his lips, ignoring the slight pain of getting used to having him inside you again. “Tell me I’m yours again, please. Wanna hear it.”

Both of you sigh when Osamu finally bottoms out. He looks down towards your stomach, where it’s slightly bulging. “Mine, and only mine, yeah?” he breathes, taking a few seconds to get used to your walls squeezing down on him. Slowly, he pulls back a little before grinding back into you. “Fuck, I’ve missed ya so much.” he gasps, hands reaching underneath your thighs to press them to your chest.

Your high-pitched cries fill the room as Osamu pounds your sweet cunt. You’re trying your best to keep your eyes on him but each thrust knocks the wind out of you. “Feels s’good, Samu. Missed you too—fuck!” Your walls choke his cock, thigh shaking as your orgasm comes crashing down on you. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, then. My sweet lil dummy, yeah?” Osamu growls, quickening his pace until the sound of skin slapping is overwhelming. The force of your orgasm nearly pushes Osamu’s cock out of you. Cries leave your lips while you come down from the high. Your eyes are red and puffy from all the tears you’ve shed. Osamu takes a moment of his own, staving off his own release.

Osamu sits up, shedding the rest of his clothes before pulling you into his lap. You grimace when you feel him lining himself up to enter you once more. “Sensitive,” you mumble, face in the crook of Osamu’s neck.

But you don’t fight back when he’s inside you once more, cock stretching you out until your hips finally meet. “Ya can give me another one, hm? For me?” Osamu kisses along your jawline, giving you a breather before he’s fucking you proper once more. “You’re mine, remember? Gotta fill ya up nice and good with my cum, yeah?”

His words have you moaning against his skin, unabashedly fucking yourself on his cock despite your poor cunt already spent from your last orgasm. “Love it when you say that,” you cup his face between your palms, kissing him over and over. “Want your cum, Samu. Want you to fill me up, please, please, please.”

Seeing you so fucked out, bouncing in his lap and begging for him triggers something primal in Osamu. He snatches your hips, nails digging into your skin. Tears flood down your face while the rhythm Osamu sets becomes brutal. “Gonna ruin ya for everyone else,” he snarls, feeling the precipice of his own release. “This body was made fer me, yeah. Just me…” His hand slips between both your bodies, catching your clit to send you over the edge once more.

“Just—just you!” you cry, chanting Osamu’s name like a prayer when you cum for a second time, making a mess of both of you. The way your walls convulse around him as Osamu’s cock twitching before he’s spilling inside your warm, willing cunt. It’s not long before you’re whining from how full you are. Osamu’s cum has always been thick and too much but he’s been pent from not fucking you for what felt like ages. “Full…” you whimper.

“Ya can take it,” he shushes, keeping both of you in that position until he’s sure you’ve milked him dry. You’ve relaxed in his arms, body exhausted from a rough and thorough fucking. He pulls out after a while, his cum seeping out of you and he has half a mind to finger it back inside but he restrains himself and gets you both cleaned up.

He must have sobered up at some point by how efficient he is at getting the two of you in your tub, cleaning off the sweat and cum from your bodies before dressing you in fresh pajamas. Thankfully, he always keeps spare clothes in your house. Osamu carries you to bed, ready to curl you into his side and doze off into a peaceful sleep. But somehow, with tired limbs you climb into his lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

“You meant what you said, right?” you ask, sleepy eyes staring up at him. “You’re not going to push me away again?” And Osamu can see the fear in your eyes, the worry that he might take his words back in the morning and send the both of you back to square one. He can’t blame you, he’s had his moments where he’s been inexplicably sweet to you just to go back on his word.

You continue, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Samu. I only did it ‘cause I’ve been hurting for so long. I thought maybe I was wasting my time here because you wouldn’t commit to me,” You play with the ends of his hair, softly tugging on the freshly-washed strands. “I just wanted you to tell me not to go on the date because you wanted to be with me. Sometimes I just feel like some girl you caught dibs on or something...as if you don’t actually care to be with me for me.”

Osamu sighs, he thought he was already showing those things for you—in his own way. But what you wanted was validation, something concrete to show that you meant something to him. Maybe that’s why you sought comfort in Atsumu who’s never been shy about expressing how special you are to him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words feeling foreign in his mouth. Your eyes grow wide with shock. Osamu’s never apologized to you before, for anything. There were moments when he wanted to but something, pride or stupidity, always stopped him. When he’d upset you, he’d cook your favorite meal, buy a gift or fuck the anger out of you. But he knows that can’t be his default anymore. “I should’ve seen that I was hurtin’ ya but…”

Osamu’s afraid of what he wants to say next, afraid of what your reaction might be but it’s something he needs to do.

“The truth is seeing ya with Atsumu makes me so scared. ‘Cause...you’re just so happy when he’s around and I get worried that maybe you’d prefer him over me. Most people do...” he feels your hand cup his cheek and he leans into your touch. “I wanted to make ya happy like that but seeing you with him made me so angry that I just took it out on ya instead.”

Now or never, Osamu thinks. “You’ve never been just some girl. You’re the only girl that’s ever meant anything to me. I’ve been in love with ya since we were kids and I’ve just been too fucking stupid to realize it. I’ve always loved ya and all I’ve wanted was for ya to love me back—not cause yer stuck with me or somethin' but cause ya actually mean it.”

His body is shaking and he feels like he’s going to vomit from nerves. Somehow, Osamu musters up the courage to look you in the eye and he sees that you’re crying again. But these are different tears because you’re leaning in and kissing him feverishly. Again and again and again. It isn’t until he feels your fingertips rubbing his cheeks that Osamu realizes he’s crying too. Fuck, he’s actually crying.

“I do love you,” you proclaim with the biggest smile Osamu’s ever seen. “And I’ll keep saying it until you know it’s true.” But Osamu just needed to hear it only once to believe it. You love him.

And he loves you.

~

“You’re indulging him,” Osamu complains, pulling you into his lap as the two of you sit at the bottom of the stairs watching everyone else mingle in the living room.

“He wouldn’t shut up about it if we didn’t do it,” you remind him for the hundredth time. “Just be nice tonight, okay?” You kiss the pout off his face but Osamu still grumbles under his breath.

Atsumu was leaving in the morning but he, of course, wanted a going away party to see him off. Osamu thought it was a bit dramatic—his brother would only be gone for two months tops but Atsumu always craved the spotlight.

As usual, he charmed everyone with his stories from training camp and all the amazing athletes and coaches he’s working with. How he’s already being scouted for professional teams. Just a few more hours, Osamu thinks.

The one highlight is that this is Osamu’s first official outing as your boyfriend, something he feels a bit smug about since it takes some of the attention away from his idiot twin. Some people were surprised when you two finally made it official. Others, Suna and Kita, weren’t as shocked and wondered why it took so long to happen in the first place.

“What is the grumpy Miya Osamu thinking about right now?” you ask, head leaning against his shoulder.

Osamu kisses your temple. “How much I’d rather be in bed than listen to Atsumu tell this story again. What about ya?”

You smile at him with a sparkle in your eye that Osamu knows it's just for him. “How much I love you,”

Osamu snorts, hoping it covers the blush that’s most definitely on his cheeks but he’s sure you see right through him. “I love you too, dummy.”

©sugawarassoulmate 2021 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[ SAVIOR ] // OSAMU MIYA

warnings. female reader, mention of alcohol, creepy guy with predatory behavior, suggested drugging of a drink (not consumed though), mild timeskip spoilers, suggestive theme

note. osamu makes me feel safe and warm.

the music is loud. you can feel the bass thumping through your chest, rattling your bones and shaking your core like you were nothing more than a skeleton. the drink that had sounded halfway decent a short while ago is now bitter and gross on your tongue, and any time you look at the orange liquid your mouth waters unpleasantly; a warning you only felt when you didn’t want to ingest something anymore. you wanted to finish it, but you couldn’t seem to find the willpower to do so. you were supposed to be having a good time with who you thought were your friends, but they’d forgotten about you long before the night began, leaving you to exist in their presence without being seen at all.

not atypical; they weren’t people you’d put forth the effort to spend time with normally, but you figured a good night out was what you needed. this, however, was everything but that.

foolish is what you were for expecting things to be any different than they’ve always been.

you raise your hand when the bartender is free and when he approaches, you raise your volume to request a water, one he brings you quickly with a smile. you slide your first drink to the side and nurse your water, tuning out the noise around you.

people come up next to you, leaning their bodies on the bar and ordering this and that—a few beers, a cocktail or two, and a stray water. you didn’t pay much attention to who was coming up, merely sliding to the side if someone got a little too close to you. as your raising your water to your mouth mindlessly, you notice that some guy has taken the seat next to you and is staring in your direction.

you try not to make eye contact, shrugging it off as a mere coincidence, but when his gaze lingers on you for an uncomfortably long amount of time, you glance over at him against your better judgment. he’s an older man, gruff and messy looking, not dressed for the atmosphere at all. he motions to your drink and readjusts his cap as he says something you can’t hear. when you make a confused face, he leans in closer to you, placing his hand on the back of your seat dangerously close to your back, and asks what your drink of choice is.

you tap your glass of water with your nail and smile politely, shifting forward in your seat and crossing one leg over the other. “just water,” you say. he laughs, and for a moment you think he’ll leave you alone, but he continues to talk to you.

“have a little fun, beautiful. what do you want to drink, i’ll buy you something.”

you shake your head again, raising your hand to decline his offer. the hand on the back of your chair hasn’t moved and it's making you squeamish. “come on, i’m being generous here. shouldn’t turn down a free drink.”

“i really don’t want anything else,” you say firmly, but he’s not deterred. he orders two of the same drink, saying one for me and one for my lady, here. the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, stomach churning in disgust at the comment.

when the drink is set in front of you, you stare at the blue gradient of the drink, eyeing the citrus in the top but choosing to nurse your water again. the older man next to you begins asking you questions to get to know you, such as what your name is, what you did for a living, if you had a boyfriend, and if you were here with anyone. you give the name of your childhood friend, not daring to utter your real name, tell him you’re in sales down south but here for a couple days, and that you’re out with a couple of friends who are on the dance floor—this being the only truth of your speech.

he nods with interest, leaning forward every now and then to hear you better, but when his hand moves from the seat to your lower back, you turn your head towards the dance floor to look for your friends.

you scan the crowd of bodies hoping that you’d catch one of their eyes and be able to signal them over, but you don't have any such luck. “looking for your friends?” the old mans voice brings you back to your situation, and you turn back around swiftly.

“i thought i heard one of them call my name.” you laugh nervously, looking through the bothersome man to the other end of the bar to see if you could find some kind of way out. when no one makes eye contact with you, you look back towards the drinks, and your stomach drops.

the citrus peel that sat neatly on top of your drink was now underneath the ice, the gradient of the drink no longer present.

your drink had been messed with.

“aren’t you gonna try your drink? it’s really good, i promise.” the older man finishes his and pushes yours towards you. “loosen up a little, beautiful.”

his fingers curl against your back. you feel like you’re suffocating.

you could easily excuse yourself to the bathroom and get lost in the crowd, find your friends and tell them you need to go, but you had a feeling they wouldn’t walk you out. they’d call you a drag for wanting to leave so early, probably berate you because you knew alcohol turned them into unrecognizable people, and you’d have to leave by yourself and hope that man isn’t following you.

as you’re weighing your options, desperately trying to think of anything that could get you out of this predicament, you hear a voice to your left.

“hey, sorry that took so long. had to get someone to clean up some guy's mess in the bathroom.”

a guy about your age with dark hair and half-lidded eyes smiles, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “see you’ve made a friend. interested in getting to know my girlfriend?”

the older man's hand leaves your back, returning to his body. “a-ah, yeah,” the man vaulters, standing from his seat and lifting his cap to fix his hair. “i mean, she looked like someone i knew, i was just curious.”

“that so?” your savior hums, staring down your creep with hard eyes. the older man puts his cap back on and scurries away, not bothering to utter an apology or anything. when he’s out of sight, the dark-haired male pushes the blue drink away from you. “wouldn’t drink that. he put something in it.” he confirms your suspicions and you nod.

“i thought so.” you turn your body mostly towards him, uncrossing your legs to stand but he holds up his hand to stop you from doing so. “thank you for doing that for me.” you say sincerely, hoping he can hear how relieved you are.

“you looked like you needed some help.” he hails the bartender over, orders two glasses of water, and leans on his forearm next to you. “i’m not saying you look like a damsel in distress or anything, i’m sure ya know how to handle yourself very well. i could see the wheels turning in yer head.” his accent slips out but quickly corrects itself when he gives thanks for the waters.

“thank you,” you say, laughing lightly. “is my thinking face that obvious?”

“maybe a little.” he raises the glass to his mouth. “but i’ve been watching you from over there since that guy came over.” you look towards the other end of the bar to see a seat you noted was previously filled is now empty. “where are your friends?”

“dance floor. but i don’t think they would’ve helped.”

“why not?”

you shrug. “something tells me people who talk over you and don’t pay any attention to you wont come to the rescuer. probably blame me for ruining their night.”

“they don’t sound like good friends.”

“they’re not. i don't even know why i’m here.”

he hums, looking back towards the crowd of people dancing. “‘m not sure why either.”

the two of you fall into silence, but its not uncomfortable. your eyes trail over his body while he’s looking away, the cuffs of his sleeve grip his biceps to accentuate his muscles. his shoulders were wide, his chest was thick, and his presence was calming. you felt safer with him than you’ve felt the entire night despite him being so close that you could smell his cologne—an earthy, musky scent that was practically intoxicating to you.

your legs press together.

“miya,” he says suddenly, eyeing your reaction. you blink a couple times, wondering where you’ve heard the name before. it clicks after a moment, and youre sure your face lights up with the realization.

“miya, like onigiri miya?” he cracks a smile at your answer. “yeah, exactly that. i own that shop.”

you gasp, one of your hands moving to grab his forearm. “really? i’ve been wanting to stop in there for a while! i pass it on my way home from work. it’s always so busy.”

“oh, always. keeps me on my toes, though.” “i bet.” “you should stop by next time. i’d love to see a familiar face.”

you smile, tilting your head up at an angle that you knew you looked best at. “i’m familiar now?” “i’d like you to be.” you lick your lips, the smile on your face growing tight with excitement.

“very smooth. i suppose i can grace your shop with my presence sometime.” he cocks an eyebrow, and you hold yourself back from swooning right there on the spot.

“sometime? that’s not very specific.” he checks his watch. “how about now?” he turns his wrists towards you to show the time (or maybe to show off his watch, you couldn’t be sure), but its a quarter to eleven and you have time to kill.

“okay. i’ll take you up on that offer.” you stand from your seat slowly, rolling your body into him without really touching him but just enough to entice and show interest. “i hope it’s as good as everyone says it is if i’m going to be treated by the master chef himself.”

he rests his hand on your back firmly. you can feel the warmth radiating through his palm, calming your nerves and exciting them all at once. “i’ll make sure it's the best you’ve ever had.” the vagueness of the subject gives you the impression there’s a hidden meaning behind his words.

“i’m looking forward to it.” you whisper in his ear, taking several steps forward and reaching your hand back towards him. he takes it gently, and you entwine your fingers so you wouldn’t lose him in the crowd. with one hand in yours and the other on your hip, he guides you towards the entrance and into the cool night air, quiet and buzzing with possibilities. when you give your name, he leans in close and tells you to say it again. without questioning it, you say your name again, and he repeats after you, letting it linger on his tongue.

“pretty name. i’ll make sure to remember it.” it wasn’t until later that night when you realize just how pretty your name sounded when it spilled out from his lips.

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[ SAVIOR ] // OSAMU MIYA

warnings. female reader, mention of alcohol, creepy guy with predatory behavior, suggested drugging of a drink (not consumed though), mild timeskip spoilers, suggestive theme

note. osamu makes me feel safe and warm.

the music is loud. you can feel the bass thumping through your chest, rattling your bones and shaking your core like you were nothing more than a skeleton. the drink that had sounded halfway decent a short while ago is now bitter and gross on your tongue, and any time you look at the orange liquid your mouth waters unpleasantly; a warning you only felt when you didn’t want to ingest something anymore. you wanted to finish it, but you couldn’t seem to find the willpower to do so. you were supposed to be having a good time with who you thought were your friends, but they’d forgotten about you long before the night began, leaving you to exist in their presence without being seen at all.

not atypical; they weren’t people you’d put forth the effort to spend time with normally, but you figured a good night out was what you needed. this, however, was everything but that.

foolish is what you were for expecting things to be any different than they’ve always been.

you raise your hand when the bartender is free and when he approaches, you raise your volume to request a water, one he brings you quickly with a smile. you slide your first drink to the side and nurse your water, tuning out the noise around you.

people come up next to you, leaning their bodies on the bar and ordering this and that—a few beers, a cocktail or two, and a stray water. you didn’t pay much attention to who was coming up, merely sliding to the side if someone got a little too close to you. as your raising your water to your mouth mindlessly, you notice that some guy has taken the seat next to you and is staring in your direction.

you try not to make eye contact, shrugging it off as a mere coincidence, but when his gaze lingers on you for an uncomfortably long amount of time, you glance over at him against your better judgment. he’s an older man, gruff and messy looking, not dressed for the atmosphere at all. he motions to your drink and readjusts his cap as he says something you can’t hear. when you make a confused face, he leans in closer to you, placing his hand on the back of your seat dangerously close to your back, and asks what your drink of choice is.

you tap your glass of water with your nail and smile politely, shifting forward in your seat and crossing one leg over the other. “just water,” you say. he laughs, and for a moment you think he’ll leave you alone, but he continues to talk to you.

“have a little fun, beautiful. what do you want to drink, i’ll buy you something.”

you shake your head again, raising your hand to decline his offer. the hand on the back of your chair hasn’t moved and it's making you squeamish. “come on, i’m being generous here. shouldn’t turn down a free drink.”

“i really don’t want anything else,” you say firmly, but he’s not deterred. he orders two of the same drink, saying one for me and one for my lady, here. the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, stomach churning in disgust at the comment.

when the drink is set in front of you, you stare at the blue gradient of the drink, eyeing the citrus in the top but choosing to nurse your water again. the older man next to you begins asking you questions to get to know you, such as what your name is, what you did for a living, if you had a boyfriend, and if you were here with anyone. you give the name of your childhood friend, not daring to utter your real name, tell him you’re in sales down south but here for a couple days, and that you’re out with a couple of friends who are on the dance floor—this being the only truth of your speech.

he nods with interest, leaning forward every now and then to hear you better, but when his hand moves from the seat to your lower back, you turn your head towards the dance floor to look for your friends.

you scan the crowd of bodies hoping that you’d catch one of their eyes and be able to signal them over, but you don't have any such luck. “looking for your friends?” the old mans voice brings you back to your situation, and you turn back around swiftly.

“i thought i heard one of them call my name.” you laugh nervously, looking through the bothersome man to the other end of the bar to see if you could find some kind of way out. when no one makes eye contact with you, you look back towards the drinks, and your stomach drops.

the citrus peel that sat neatly on top of your drink was now underneath the ice, the gradient of the drink no longer present.

your drink had been messed with.

“aren’t you gonna try your drink? it’s really good, i promise.” the older man finishes his and pushes yours towards you. “loosen up a little, beautiful.”

his fingers curl against your back. you feel like you’re suffocating.

you could easily excuse yourself to the bathroom and get lost in the crowd, find your friends and tell them you need to go, but you had a feeling they wouldn’t walk you out. they’d call you a drag for wanting to leave so early, probably berate you because you knew alcohol turned them into unrecognizable people, and you’d have to leave by yourself and hope that man isn’t following you.

as you’re weighing your options, desperately trying to think of anything that could get you out of this predicament, you hear a voice to your left.

“hey, sorry that took so long. had to get someone to clean up some guy's mess in the bathroom.”

a guy about your age with dark hair and half-lidded eyes smiles, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “see you’ve made a friend. interested in getting to know my girlfriend?”

the older man's hand leaves your back, returning to his body. “a-ah, yeah,” the man vaulters, standing from his seat and lifting his cap to fix his hair. “i mean, she looked like someone i knew, i was just curious.”

“that so?” your savior hums, staring down your creep with hard eyes. the older man puts his cap back on and scurries away, not bothering to utter an apology or anything. when he’s out of sight, the dark-haired male pushes the blue drink away from you. “wouldn’t drink that. he put something in it.” he confirms your suspicions and you nod.

“i thought so.” you turn your body mostly towards him, uncrossing your legs to stand but he holds up his hand to stop you from doing so. “thank you for doing that for me.” you say sincerely, hoping he can hear how relieved you are.

“you looked like you needed some help.” he hails the bartender over, orders two glasses of water, and leans on his forearm next to you. “i’m not saying you look like a damsel in distress or anything, i’m sure ya know how to handle yourself very well. i could see the wheels turning in yer head.” his accent slips out but quickly corrects itself when he gives thanks for the waters.

“thank you,” you say, laughing lightly. “is my thinking face that obvious?”

“maybe a little.” he raises the glass to his mouth. “but i’ve been watching you from over there since that guy came over.” you look towards the other end of the bar to see a seat you noted was previously filled is now empty. “where are your friends?”

“dance floor. but i don’t think they would’ve helped.”

“why not?”

you shrug. “something tells me people who talk over you and don’t pay any attention to you wont come to the rescuer. probably blame me for ruining their night.”

“they don’t sound like good friends.”

“they’re not. i don't even know why i’m here.”

he hums, looking back towards the crowd of people dancing. “‘m not sure why either.”

the two of you fall into silence, but its not uncomfortable. your eyes trail over his body while he’s looking away, the cuffs of his sleeve grip his biceps to accentuate his muscles. his shoulders were wide, his chest was thick, and his presence was calming. you felt safer with him than you’ve felt the entire night despite him being so close that you could smell his cologne—an earthy, musky scent that was practically intoxicating to you.

your legs press together.

“miya,” he says suddenly, eyeing your reaction. you blink a couple times, wondering where you’ve heard the name before. it clicks after a moment, and youre sure your face lights up with the realization.

“miya, like onigiri miya?” he cracks a smile at your answer. “yeah, exactly that. i own that shop.”

you gasp, one of your hands moving to grab his forearm. “really? i’ve been wanting to stop in there for a while! i pass it on my way home from work. it’s always so busy.”

“oh, always. keeps me on my toes, though.” “i bet.” “you should stop by next time. i’d love to see a familiar face.”

you smile, tilting your head up at an angle that you knew you looked best at. “i’m familiar now?” “i’d like you to be.” you lick your lips, the smile on your face growing tight with excitement.

“very smooth. i suppose i can grace your shop with my presence sometime.” he cocks an eyebrow, and you hold yourself back from swooning right there on the spot.

“sometime? that’s not very specific.” he checks his watch. “how about now?” he turns his wrists towards you to show the time (or maybe to show off his watch, you couldn’t be sure), but its a quarter to eleven and you have time to kill.

“okay. i’ll take you up on that offer.” you stand from your seat slowly, rolling your body into him without really touching him but just enough to entice and show interest. “i hope it’s as good as everyone says it is if i’m going to be treated by the master chef himself.”

he rests his hand on your back firmly. you can feel the warmth radiating through his palm, calming your nerves and exciting them all at once. “i’ll make sure it's the best you’ve ever had.” the vagueness of the subject gives you the impression there’s a hidden meaning behind his words.

“i’m looking forward to it.” you whisper in his ear, taking several steps forward and reaching your hand back towards him. he takes it gently, and you entwine your fingers so you wouldn’t lose him in the crowd. with one hand in yours and the other on your hip, he guides you towards the entrance and into the cool night air, quiet and buzzing with possibilities. when you give your name, he leans in close and tells you to say it again. without questioning it, you say your name again, and he repeats after you, letting it linger on his tongue.

“pretty name. i’ll make sure to remember it.” it wasn’t until later that night when you realize just how pretty your name sounded when it spilled out from his lips.

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

love makes you crazy, if it doesn't you ain't doing it right

— Miya Atsumu × Reader

— cw: NSFW (minors dni)

p.s: what MSBY Jackals should come next? 👀

Atsumu thinks his costume it's hilariously clever, and actually pauses to chuckle to himself before they can ring the doorbell.

Osamu is not only already tired, but still unimpressed.

"I still think it's a bad idea" he says, and Atsumu looks at him with a raised eyebrow and fangs glinting in the moonlight "And ya put too much of that glitter thing on them"

"On my fangs?"

"Yes, on yer fangs. Ya look ridiculous. They look fake as fuck"

Atsumu snorts and rings the doorbell again, hoping that this time someone hears it over the loud music "That's the point 'Samu. What? Ya want people figuring out that they're not real?"

"If ya don't want people to find out then ya shouldn't have dressed like that in the first place"

Coming to this party was a huge mistake from the beginning, of course Osamu knew that. Reuniting with old friends from high school isn't always the best. Sometimes, it's just best to keep the memories and move on. Some people don't really change for the better.

They were still in touch with the people that mattered anyway— the whole volleyball team and a couple of friends from classroom.

He didn't had any reasons to be here.

But he knew Atsumu did.

"Oh, hey guys!" an overly cheerful fairy with scarce clothes and purpurine makeup greets them when the door finally opens, and the first thing Atsumu does is flashing his fangs at her. "Ohhhh... those look dangerous!" she says, half a giggle and half a surprised gasp, and then turns to look at Osamu "And what are you supposed to be?"

"I'm an onigiri" he deadpans.

The girl looks at him from head to toe, from his completely white attire of both shirt and pants, to the black bell around his waist. She awkwardly laughs "I see! I think I get it?"

"Don't ya worry. I don't get it either" Atsumu reassures her, and she smiles and makes room for them to come inside.

They wait, as always.

"Come on in guys!" she finally screams, and they both enter the house "Everyone! The Miya Twins are here!"

You jump and check yourself on the screen of your phone, completely ignoring whatever your friend was telling you. Your mascara is fine but could use some work, and your lipstick is definitely gone by now.

Of course it is. It's only 11pm and you've already had three full cups of beer. If you would have known that your high school and probably only crush was coming, you wouldn't have worked so hard to be tipsy by now.

"Oh my god I think I'm drunk" you whisper at your friend, putting your phone down and grabbing her by the arm "I'm drunk and Miya Atsumu is here. Why is life so unfair?"

Your friend looks around for a bit, until you assume she spots the man in question, while you distract yourself by searching inside your purse for that lipstick that said it could last up until twenty four hours, but turned out to be even a bigger liar than your ex.

"Girl, you're not drunk. You're just tipsy. Tipsy is good"

You scoff and finally find the lipstick bar. "Tipsy is good" you mock "Don't you know me at all? I have trouble having a normal conversation when I'm sober, imagine me talking to the guy I like while tipsy"

Your crush in Atsumu had started like any regular high school crush in a bad teen movie. You had seen him around the gym, focused and completely absorbed in the game— acting already like a pro when he had just gotten admitted in the team, and you had instantly known that your world would revolve around him for the rest of your high school life.

For your own credit tho, by the end of your third year, you already liked Atsumu for much more than those incredible thighs you kept fantasising about and his good hair. He was passionate, hard working, very funny and laid back, and actually had a nice relationship with his brother and teammates.

That's exactly what you had written down in the letter you never sent to him and forever kept in one of your drawers— without his address, mind you. No one could be THAT stupid—, because you didn't really saw the point anymore. High school was over, you two were going separate ways, and you were nothing more than one of the many fans he shushed during his serves.

"Okay" you say, taking some deep breaths to stabilize yourself "I'm going to run to the bathroom real quick to put on some makeup for the guy that I'm going to try to avoid all night, all right? Just wait here for me"

Your friend has the audacity to snicker "Yeah, I don't really know about that. He's already coming this way"

"What?"

Atsumu spots you instantly. He knows exactly how you look, after searching around for you on Instagram all night. It's not like you've changed much since high school either.

He comes close to you and greets your friend first, Osamu trailing behind him and complaining about the music. You have your back to him, clad in a white long dress and with your hair up in an elaborate bun, and boy does Atsumu loves the shape of your neck.

"Hey! What're ya two ladies upto?" he asks, stopping beside you.

"We were just talking. Right?" your friend answers, and you look at her from under your lashes, before slowly turning to him and give him a tiny smile.

And god, there it is.

Your smell.

Atsumu closes his eyes just for a second, breathing in your scent and letting it flow through his veins, and doesn't even realizes he's been licking his fangs until your friend gasps.

"Those are some pretty impressive fangs you have there!" she says, and the sudden taste of plastic in his mouth has Atsumu figuring out that he licked the sparkly stuff clean.

Osamu elbows him. Hard.

"Yeah, yeah" he says, trying to sound casual. "They're real alright. Don't ya know? 'Samu and I are vampires" his brother goes to step on him, but he takes that chance to come even closer to you.

He has the sudden urge to burrow his nose on your hair.

"Actually!" he continues, still trying to play along and already completely drunk on you "All the guys on the team are!"

Osamu looks ready to rip him a new one. Your friend laughs and smacks him on the chest. You're just looking at him curiously.

"Don't tell me all the MSBY Jackals are of your kind!" your friend says, bringing a hand to cover her mouth in feigned horror "Whatever would happen if word got to the press?"

"Yeah" Osamu drawls "Wonder that too"

Your friend looks at him then, head cocked to the side. "Wait— are you a vampire too?"

Atsumu laughs and shoves him a bit "Nah. He's just a regular onigiri"

"Alright! Ahm... I think I'm going to go to the bathroom now" you announce all of the sudden, and exchange a look with your friend that he doesn't really get, before hurrying past him and disappearing into the crowd.

He wishes those mind reading myths about vampires were true. Most of them never are.

Atsumu had met you in high school, one fateful rainy day where you had forgotten your umbrella.

Just like in a bad teen movie.

You had been waiting for a long time for the clouds to part and for the sun to come out again, and he had just finished practice when he saw you— your back to him, looking at the dark sky.

Both Osamu and him had offered you to accompany you then, sharing two umbrellas between the three of you. You were nervous, but grateful, and Atsumu had spent the whole way home purposely brushing his shoulder against yours.

You were warm, and smelled like rain and summer.

By the time you turned around to thank them, one feet inside your house and your hand on the door, Atsumu had already memorized the curve of your lips.

He wanted to bite them.

His father had told him once, when both he and Osamu were only kids, that vampires loved differently.

Six years later and still infatuated with you, Atsumu finally thinks he knows what that meant.

"I'm sorry" your friend says "It's her makeup. It has to be perfect, since she came as..."

"A victorian lady, yeah" Atsumu finishes up for her, and Osamu looks at him weirdly.

"Yer kidding, aren't ya? Ya get her costume but don't get mine? She's just wearing some long dress" complains Osamu, but Atsumu it's not paying attention to him anymore.

"Hey" he says, deciding not to waste much more time. He's waited six years already. "Do ya mind staying here with my brother? I'll be right back"

He doesn't waits for an answer before following behind you.

The lighting in the bathroom is horrible. You look like a ghost when you're finally able to make your red lipstick look presentable, and the flickering light starts to make you doubt about wearing a white dress like the one you decided on.

You hope Atsumu realized you were just going as a victorian lady, and not some creepy tortured ghost.

Even if they both can be kind of the same.

The door opens a fraction when you're finally trying to gather some courage to come out, and Atsumu head appears out of nowhere in your field of vision.

A scream dies in your throat.

"This is the ladies room" you say, and mentally facepalm yourself.

Atsumu only chuckles, taking two steps inside and closing the door behind him. "I'm pretty sure there's only one bathroom for everyone"

"Oh" you say, feeling your hands start to sweat "Didn't knew that... I guess"

Atsumu takes another step towards you, and you falter. "Nervous?"

"Just... ahm..." you can only gesture around, looking at the floor and completely avoiding his piercing gaze "This is all new to me"

"Yeah, we were never trapped in a bathroom together before"

You gulp and your gaze snaps back to him, while slowly starting to walk backwards "Trapped? We're trapped?"

"I just locked the door, so I guess that yeah, we are"

You don't really know how to feel about that, but your body reacts way more quickly than your brain does.

Your panties are soaking wet by the time your back hits the wall.

Atsumu soon haves both of his hands resting at either side of your head, and you can feel him vibrating with poorly conceived restrain. You swallow around the ball of nerves on your throat.

"Atsumu?" you ask, only a whisper, and your eyes follow his tongue when he wets his lips and then his extremely long fangs.

"God, ya don't know how long I've wanted to fuck ya"

He kisses you with such force that you think you would fall, if the wall wasn't right behind you— and you can't do anything but hold onto him while he ravishes your mouth. A single flick of his tongue against you and you're already a broken mess of moans.

And then his lips find your neck, and one of his fangs grazes your throbbing vein, and your body moves on its own— pressing against him.

He laughs, and the sound goes straight between your legs.

"You've been driving me crazy since we were in high school" he whispers, playfully biting your earlobe "I've waited all this years to finally have ya like this, darlin'" another bite, this time behind your ear. You close your eyes and grab his shoulders "Do ya want me?"

"I do"

"Say it again, come on" he asks, and you can feel his cock pressing insistently against you "Come on, darlin'. Tell me you've wanted this for as long as I've had"

"Yes!" you finally scream, grinding against him to ease the ache in your center "Yes, please. I want to be with you. Please"

He grabs you with surprising ease, both of his hands cupping your ass while you hang onto his shoulders for dear life. He hasn't set you down on the counter yet and he's already kissing you once more, teeth and tongues battling for dominance. You gasp for air when he tears the front of your dress open just to latch his mouth over one of your nipples, and your legs automatically snake around him, trembling.

He sucks and bites and leaves a trail behind him, and all your lipstick is gone again, staining his chin and his bottom lip.

He looks gorgeous, and you think you might have said it at loud, because he stops to look at you, all movement gone.

Atsumu looks very dangerous— you find— under the light of the single yellowed lightbulb.

"I was going to take my time on ya" he says slowly, a hand sneaking under your dress to grab your underwear "But I don't really think I can do that anymore"

You can see both of his fangs when he smiles next.

"I'm going to devour ya"

Your head lolls forward when he starts to press inside you, and Atsumu closes his eyes and snarls because the feeling of you — so wet, so tight, so made to fit his cock just the right way— around him it's enough to drive him crazy. His eyes drift open when you start chanting his name, your sweet voice in his ear while he stretches you.

His breath is ragged by the time his hips are flush against your skin. His fangs are tingling, and there's a feeling of euphoria building inside him that only wants him to sink his teeth in your sweat beaded neck and make you his forever.

"We don't just feel love, Atsumu" his father had said to him "We let it consume us"

His are frenzied thrust, with his eyes darting back and forth between your lips and your tits, his love bites like angry tattoos around your niples.

Atsumu is grinning. A wild, almost manic grin when he kisses you to swallow your moans, and one of his hands snakes between your bodies to pinch your clit.

You break the contact to let out a long moan, and your eyes open to find him looking at you with some unreadable emotion that you wonder if you mirror too, after all those years crushing so hard on him.

And then the bad light of the bulb catches on his fangs and an idea comes to your head just at the same time he angles his hips just enough to make you see starts.

"Bite me" you ask him, in a desperate and needy voice that doesn't really sounds like it belongs to you "Bite me, Atsumu. Please"

Atsumu's thrusts become even more ferocious.

"Ya don't know what yer saying, darlin'" he tells you, both of his hands grabbing your ass with such a force that you're sure will leave angry red imprints for the rest of the night "Ya don't know— fuck yeah, so good— ya don't know what yer asking me"

You whine, and the sound makes his cock jump "I do know. I know. Please. Bite me" and then the force of one of his thrusts makes you arch your back and present your neck to him, glistening with sweat "Please just make me yours"

He snaps.

He forgets the words of advice from Osamu, always warning him not to get too attached. He forgets that you're both in a bathroom and that he should probably invite you to dinner before actually asking you with all the words, if you want him to bite you and make you his forever.

Atsumu forgets about anything other than the feeling of you around him, and leans down to bite your neck.

Hard.

You scream, and then you come.

The pleasure it's like an inferno—  white-hot and incandescent— burning through you as if it wants to consume you, turning you into something different. A sharp cry escapes your lips and you can’t do anything but hold onto him and murmur his name and come, come, come, feeling something warm slide down your throat and staining your dress while Atsumu empties himself inside you— his cock twitching, and the last sparks of pleasure spreading through you like fireworks underneath your skin.

You're lightheaded and sloppy when Atsumu pulls away from your neck, crimson rivulets falling down the sides of his chin. You still think he's the most gorgeous man you've ever seen, even while the sweet pain on your neck and all over your exhausted body lures you to close your eyes.

Just for a minute.

"Well, darlin'" you hear him whisper, before everything turns black "I've finally left love consume me"

cooking class for beginners 🍙

— Miya Osamu x Reader

— cw: NSFW (minors dni)

To say you have a crush on your roommate's brother is an understatement.

You're completely and utterly in love with him.

To say you're having a mild panick attack now that you're alone with him in the middle of the night... also an understatement.

"Why him tho?" one of your friends had asked you once, after Atsumu left for his classes and it was only you and her on the appartament "His brother looks exactly the same and it's going to be a professional volleyball player one day! Are you sure you're crushing on the right Miya?"

Again, and you would continue to clarify that to everyone that knew about your feelings for Osamu, you didn't had a simple "crush" on him.

It had all started after you and Atsumu had agreed to live together.

You were both on your first year of college then, Atsumu with his big dreams of going pro and you, wanting to graduate as fast as possible so you could start looking for a nice job that allowed you to eat something other than cold pizza on Friday nights.

Either way, neither of you could afford to live alone in one of the apartments close to the university, so after some classes in common and the usual small talk in the cafeteria that allowed you to make sure Atsumu was not a serial killer— or at least didn't really talked like one—, you decided that it would be a good idea to be roommates, since you were both still looking for a place.

You didn't became actual friends with the older Miya until a couple of months later later tho, after many uncomfortable encounters in the bathroom, midnights when neither of you could sleep and frantic afternoons studying last minute for a test. Atsumu was charming and funny, the perfect picture of the guy friend every girl should have. He would go shopping with you and carry the groceries, take time to listen to your troubles and overall be a good roommate that would — almost — always remember to flush the toilet.

And one day out of nowhere, he had also introduced you to the most handsome man you had ever seen.

"They literally look the same! What are you even talking about?" had said the same friend after you had called her to gush about him.

Cue Osamu Miya and his playful smirk when you came stumbling into the living room one faithful summer day, while carrying the books you were going to need for the semester.

"This is my brother" Atsumu had introduced him, giving him a pat on the shoulder "And 'Samu, this is my roommate and friend"

Osamu had nodded when hearing your name, smirk still in place."Nice to meet ya. I hope my brother here isn't giving ya much trouble"

You had dropped all your books to the floor, drowning the sound of Atsumu's complains.

Osamu would become a regular visitor, crashing in your sofa a couple of nights a week and coming to cook for the both of you from time to time. He hadn't opened his restaurant then. He was still quite busy looking for the right place and hiring people to help him. And since both Atsumu and you were useless in the kitchen, he would practice his recipes at your place and then leave your fridge full to the brim.

He was so mature, and calm... and you were always trying to avoiding the word "cool" in fear of sounding like a teenager crushing on some boy band guy... but he was definitely that too. He had his priority straights, had that dry kind of sense of humor that made you chuckle in spite yourself and you also totally wanted him to touch you with those big hands he used to make the perfect onigiri rolls.

You definitely spent a lot of time watching his hands work.

And while you could already consider him a friend, you were definitely not used to spending time alone with him, usually relying on Atsumu's presence to ease the nerves you felt when he so much as looked in your direction.

But tonight had to be the night Atsumu decided to go to one of his one night stands house, instead of bringing her to your place.

The night Osamu, of course, had also decided to stop by while you were alone, clad only in one of your oldest t-shirts and watching reruns of your comfort TV show.

He actually makes a good job of ignoring the state you're in and plops down next to you on the sofa "Do ya mind if I wait for him here?" he asks, when you tell him that Atsumu's not home, forcing the words to come out of your throat at the sight of him by the front door.

Damn Atsumu and his extra key.

"Not really" you reply after a second, screaming internally and moving a bit to the side "Suit yourself"

He tells you about the restaurant without you having to ask, and you're grateful he's stressed enough with work that he can talk and talk without paying much attention to the fact that you're frozen in place and barely nodding.

He only looks at you when he's done complaining about one of his employees, his eyes quickly scanning you from head to toe, almost as if he didn't really want you finding out he's ogling at you. "I'm sorry to throw all this on ya. Blame my brother for not being here"

When he looks back at the TV, you check at yourself too, and then choke on whatever you had come up as an answer.

Your old shirt has hole in one of the sleeves.

Osamu turns back to you again "Did ya said anything?"

You shake your head and stand up in a rush, taking a cushion with you to cover what your old t-shirt can't. Osamu is either pretending not to notice, or is used to people standing up with a cushion pressed tightly against their legs, because he doesn't says anything while you slowly retract to your bedroom. "I'm very, very sleepy now!" you laugh, because it occurs to you that it's the most normal thing you can do "I had a lot of classes today and have to wake up early tomorrow... so I'll be hitting the sack now!"

You cringe at your choice of words and pray for Osamu not to notice that you're suddenly almost mimicking how his brother talks. He stares at you for what feels like an eternity when you finally stop at your bedroom's doorstep, and when you're debating whether to say something else or just close the door on his face, he shrugs and turns back to the screen. The titles are rolling, and another episode is about to start.

"I'll just wait for 'Tsumu here"

You consider sending a very long, very stressed voice message to your friend telling her about how Osamu just found you at your worst moment, but give up when you notice she's not online and it's probably sleeping.

You look at the clock in your bedside table then. It's late, and you really do need to get up early  for a lecture tomorrow. You turn the lights off and slide yourself under your covers.

Nevermind that Osamu is on the other side of the door. You've done this before. You've gone to bed knowing that he was in your living room, breathing the same air as you.

Granted, Atsumu was always there too, and that at least gave you some mental peace.

But you can do this. The worst has passed, and Osamu probably doesn't even remembers that your t-shirt is actually a faded Star Wars one you bought one day in your way home from high school. He doesn't pays much attention to you anyway. You close your eyes and breathe out.

It's 2am and you're eyes are wide open.

Not only you can't sleep, but you're also incredibly hungry. You remember you skipped dinner, thinking that the late lunch you had at the university's cafeteria would keep you full for the rest of the day.

It didn't, and now you're  sinking your head on your pillow every time your stomach growls like some kind of wild animal.

The living room is quiet when you can't handle it anymore and decide to get up and press your ear to the door. The TV is off. You think that maybe Osamu got tired of waiting for his brother an left.

Maybe he fell asleep. Or perhaps he's in Atsumu's bedroom.

You pace around your room for a bit, biting your nails and debating with yourself if it's a good idea to just go out and go straight for the fridge. When your stomach growls once more you open the door a fraction, trying to make as little noise as possible. It's all dark, and the TV is indeed off.

There's no sight of Osamu. You release the breath you were holding and stroll into the kitchen area.

The inside of your refrigerator is a sad sight to behold. There's an empty card of milk, a bowl of cooked rice Osamu must have left behind and a single beer. There's also a few vegetables and some green looking food on the door, but you don't even know their names, much less think you could make something remotely edible with them.

You keep the door open with one hand and close your eyes, sighing loudly. "Well, I guess I'll starve to death"

"Well, we wouldn't want that, right?"

You freeze. Of course Osamu is still there. It's just you and your damn luck.

He's lying down on the sofa and looking at you when you slowly turn around, like a deer caught in the headlights, the blue glow of the refrigerator light at your back.

You gulp, and shake your head. "Yeah" you muster up, holding onto the door for dear life "That would probably be bad"

He says nothing else as he stands up and yawns, stretching his arms above his head and boy ... those broad shoulders are something else. You don't register him being already close enough to you until he places one of his hands right beside yours on the door. You try not to whimper and move to the side so he can bend down and take a peek inside.

You're not going to look at his butt.

You're not going to look at his butt.

He turns around with the bowl of cooked rice in one hand and catches you looking at his butt. "See something ya like there?"

You clear your throat and pray for the darkness of the room to cover your flaming red cheeks.

"Cute jeans" you tell him.

That little smirk you both hate and love so much is back in place when he turns around once more to take some of the unknown vegetables with him, and then places everything on the kitchen counter. You're fidgeting with your t-shirt and trying very hard not to run back to your room when he turns on the lights.

"How about I show you to make something quick for when yer hungry?" he says, going for the kitchen cabinet you have never opened since you live there, and grabbing some little seasoning bottles.

You wonder if he was the one who bought those, since you doubt Atsumu would do it.

He stares at you for a long time after everything he's apparently going to need it's in front of him, and you realize a bit late that you still haven't answered him.

You hurry up to nod "Yeah, that would be nice. I dont really want to bother you, tho"

He shrugs "It's no trouble. I'm kind of hungry too"

And then he looks you up an down, licking his lower lip, and you're not quite sure if the hunger in his eyes can be quelled with food.

You squirm and try to pay attention when he starts talking. Slowly, like a teacher.

Like a sexy good looking teacher.

Of course, you're only imagining things, you chide yourself when his eyes flick to you for a moment, before he takes the rice out of the bowl to start shaping it into the traditional triangular onigiri form. You distractedly watch him wash his hands on the sink and then rub a bit of salt on his palms and between his fingers.

And oh no, you're getting turned on.

You're getting turned on by Osamu making onigiris.

You never knew rice could be a crucial part of your sexual fantasies but here you are, watching Osamu Miya taking a portion of rice in his hands and molding it to his liking.

He has big hands, with long, slender fingers that you're definitely not imagining inside you.

As if on cue, he speaks again. "And if we had any filling to hide inside" he says, continuing with the instructions you haven't been actually listening "We would have to do this" and he uses both his middle and index finger to press on the center of the little rice ball, making a small indent that he proceeds to rub slowly, in small circular motions.

You're sure that by now, your panties are soaked.

"Wanna try?" he asks all of the sudden, and you tear your gaze away from his sinfuly big hands to look at his eyes.There's a spark in them that ignites something scorching hot in your lower belly and you nod, dumbfounded, because of course you want to try anything with him. "Then come here"

You move without really registering you're moving, and he waits for you to wash your hands before coming to stand behind you, his breath hitting your ear.

"What do I do?" you ask in a very small voice you don't recognize as your own.

He clicks his tongue and takes your hands in his, making you jump and bump into his chest.

He's warm. Or maybe you're warm. Or maybe the room temperature has skyrocketed all of the sudden.

"Haven't ya been paying attention to what I was saying?"

You dont really know what compels you to be honest at that point, but you swallow around the ball of nerves in your throat and try to look back at him. You find his lips much more closer than what you thought. "Yeah, I wasn't actually listening"

He speaks against your lips then "Well, I guess we can't have that, can we?"

He kisses you forcefully, fully turning you around and pressing your back against the counter,  swallowing your surprised gasp and managing to erase any coherent thought on your head that it's not directly related with the way both of his hands grab your butt and pull you up to set you on the counter. Clutching his shirt for dear life and letting your eyes close, you can't stop your shaky legs to snake around his waist and pull him more firmly against you.

He stops kissing you and growls against your lips.

You definitely whimper this time.

"I've been wanting to do this for quite some time now" he says, voice horse and raw with something so primal that you have to rub against him to ease the ache between your legs. He stills you with a ragged gasp, his hands leaving imprints on your hips "Always thought you had something going up with 'Tsumu"

You find the strength to shake your head as hard as you can "Oh god, no. We're just friends. Nothing else"

"Sure?" he asks, moving his head to the side to run his tongue along your throat before nibbling on your ear.

You moan, a broken shameful sound before whispering "Yes" and then "Please" and clawing at his shirt, and that's apparently all he needs to hear before drawing back slightly to caught your face between his hands, kissing you until your body arches taut against him, your arms wrapping around his neck. When you both stop for air you're panting slightly, and his eyes have turned feral. One of his hands slides to your chest, caressing a nipple for just a moment before continuing south and finding your panties.

"Yer fucking soaked" he tells you, and draws one of his knuckles lightly against your clit.

You jump and hide your face on his neck "Oh my god"

"It's Osamu, actually"

You would laugh, if it wasn't because Osamu falls to his knees in front of you a second later, tugging your panties off and running his tongue between your folds, and the only thing you can do is scream.

He watches your face as he slides out his tongue in a long, slow, stroke against your swollen flesh. Your expression twists in pleasure and you arch up off the counter, flailing your  arms and knocking down the the seasoning bottles. Osamu presses a hand against your abdomen to hold you in place as his tongue flicks out again and curls around your clit. He kisses it softly and then delves his tongue in deeper, sliding into your core and feeling your muscles flutter and clench in response. You can feel your fluids slipping out and coating his chin until he's nearly dripping from it.

You wail, and can't do more than grabbing his head in an attempt to keep him there, kissing you and sucking you until you come apart on his face.

He chuckles, the hand he has on your hip moving for only a moment to rub against his crotch, his throbbing erection more than evident, before grabbing you once more.

"I need ya to come on my tongue so I can fuck you properly after, alright?"

Yes, you really need that too.

He continues to tease your clit and then slowly, decides to sink a finger into you. You're gripping him like a vise at this point, and his tongue continues to play softly against the cluster of nerves under it. He adds a second finger after a couple of minutes, and sinks them deeper inside, seeking for that specific place that will make you shatter completely, while maintaining his relentless assault against your center. You arch until your back starts to hurt and grasp the edge of the counter until your knuckles grow bone white. Osamu finds that special spot inside of you not much later, curling his fingers and pressing firmly on it as he lashes his tongue and tugs at your clit with his teeth.

You open your mouth in a silent scream as you come, feeling your whole body vibrate, and a million little white stars explode behind your eyelids.

When your vision returns and you slowly open your eyes you find him staring at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth and one of his hands kneading at his cock. You want to sit down and tug at his shirt but you don't think you can move, and so you squirm and trash against him until he does it on his own and then unbuckles his pants, letting them fall to the floor along with his underwear.

You have little time to take on the sight of his cock, before he's turning you around and sticking your ass towards him. The cold surface of the kitchen counter provides a nice friction against your nipples, and you move around until you feel the tip of his cock graze your swollen lips.

"Please" you plead, moving your ass against it until he steadies you with a hand and then slides into you, both of you groaning at the same time.

He's unrelentless as he sinks into you, and immediately starts to move— sharp trusts and the sound of skin against sking filing the empty appartament. He moans when you shift enough to meet his hips in tandem, both of his hands finding purchase on your shoulders as he bends over to fuck you more deeply.

"Fuck yeah, ya feel so good babe" he growls, and it occurs to you in that moment that you could probably come again just with the sound of his voice "Do ya like this? Fuck just — just tell me you like this, come on"

"I love it" you gasp, and he dips his head to meet your lips when you lift your face towards him for a messy kiss that has more tongue and teeth tan anything else "I think I'm going to come again, Osamu" you tell him, and let your head fall back against the counter as he picks up speed.

"Fuck yeah, come on my cock"

And you do, when one of his hands snakes between your legs and pulls your clit until you break in many little pieces again, and your second orgasm washes over you and leaves you feeling lightheaded as Osamu drives into you with one long, final thrust and pulls out to come all over your ass cheeks.

He moans when he falls back, and you immediately feel cold at the lack of contact.

You would chase after him, but again — you're pretty sure you won't be able to move. Ever.

"That was just — fuck — that was fantastic" he gasps, and tucks himself in his pants before helping you to turn around for him.

You let your hands wonder idly against his abs as he kisses you, much more softly and playing with the loose strands of your disheveled hair.

"Thank you so much for the class" you tell him after, when he leans his forehead against yours.

He chuckles. "I thought ya said ya weren't really listening"

"Well I wasn't... at the beginning" you say, and your hands find the belt loops on his pants "But by the end I was really focused, I swear"

"I did notice that, yeah. Ya wouldn't mind a couple more classes tho? Just to make sure ya fully take everything in?"

He kisses the smile on your lips before you answer. "I would definitely like to take everything you have to give me. And have another class. Of course, yeah"

"And then maybe go out with me?" he tentatively asks, and you refrain from jumping to his arms "To have dinner? I know a really good place. They serve the best onigiris in town"

You tell him yes a million times while he carries you to your bedroom.

To say you have a crush on your roommate's brother is an understatement.

You're completely and utterly in love with him.

To say you had amazing sex with him on the kitchen counter... also an understatement.

You had the best night of your life.

And Atsumu comes home in the morning to find the remnants of it all over the kitchen. It's his knocking on your bedroom's door what wakes Osamu and you.

He calls your name and then after a pause, he calls Osamu's name to. You vaguely remember that he left his shirt behind on the floor.

"Hey guys... did ya really fuck on the kitchen counter?"

🍙

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

part 1 | part 2

a/n: yes, i'm here for the third [a maybe final part?], maybe i'll do little interludes and pieces where i write about everything that happens in between. like karaoke night with the girlies and oikawa, singing good 4 u, because i love olivia rodrigo and she's a wasian soul sister. idk, let me know.

tags: this is the most girlboss the reader has been so far, swearing, insulting, bringing up insecurities, kinda v toxic, it's like full on enemies to lovers without the lovers. so like, lovers to enemies :) SO FUCKING PETTY, I STG, bad bitch osamu because he's so fucking sexy, gn! reader wc: 712

"what are you doing here?" atsumu stood, shocked to see you exit the back room and appear behind the counter with osamu, laughing at whatever inside joke that had been shared between you two.

staring blankly back at the blond, eyebrows furrowing, "oh hey asshat – where's your girlfriend?" you question, "fooling around with another volleyball player in a committed relationship?"

"oh please, you're being immature," atsumu scoffed. "i thought that you were too good for petty insults,"

"hmm, yeah – i still am." rolling your eyes, "it's not my fault you're too daft to believe the truth."

"you're a piece of shit, you know that right?"

"ha–! says the guy who cheated, and had a whole ass affair for two weeks!" you retort, "get your head out your ass miya."

"like you're any better!" atsumu says, eyes darting to his brother – who stood silently, observing the scene that unfolded in front of him. "really 'samu? i thought you had standards."

"god! can you shut the fuck up?" you groan, "it's not like you say anything worth listening to anyways." waving your hands in front of your face, "news flash! no one gives a shit! and let me tell you this, i meant what i last said to you."

atsumu freezes, staring at the person he used to know. never in the last four years he's known you, has atsumu seen that look of pure hatred in your eyes. he tried searching for any of your tell-tales to assure him that you weren't being serious, but found none.

that's when it finally hit the blonde, you genuinely believed that dating him was a mistake. why was he so upset? atsumu was the one who cheated, atsumu was the one who pulled away, he was the one with nothing to lose.

clearing his throat, he steps back, "are you serious?"

"yes." you wouldn't have said that two weeks ago, when you had your little plan to hurt atsumu by using his brother. at first, it started off like that, hanging around at osamu's apartment, leaving your things there, posting a picture of you two together.

now? now it's completely different. after spending so much time with osamu, catching up on everything that you two have missed in each others lives, wandering around the city at night, trying out new recipes for him – genuine feelings came into existence.

sure, the endless mind games were more than fun. inside word, from sakusa, said that atsumu was always in a sour mood. finding out that your ex moved on with your brother is never nice to hear, or see.

"you're pathetic," atsumu snaps. "you're a pathetic, heartless, soul-sucking demon from hell,"

"oh yeah? how?" you question, "am i so pathetic for being there for you through everything, for standing for you? for dealing with all the hate online calling me offensive names? for never making you choose between volleyball or me?"

osamu, not wanting a fight to break out in his store, decided it'd be best to step in before things can spiral even more. placing a hand on your shoulder, tearing your gaze away from atsumu. and as per usual, he stepped in at the right time.

noticing the slight glossiness in your eyes, those tears that you're forcing back. you're still hurt, even if your mind doesn't think so, your heart and body does.

"go, i'll take it from here." he whispers, tilting his head towards the door which leads to the back room.

you oblige, walking past him into the safety and comfort of an empty room, wiping your eyes refusing to cry – taking deep breaths to ease the overwhelming stress. you'd rather die than cry over a cheater, after all you've convinced yourself to not care.

"do you want your usual?" osamu asks, pretending that the last couple minutes haven't happened. grabbing a takeaway box before filling it with atsumu's regular order.

"you know their just using you right."

"no. their not, not anymore at least." he hums, "and i'm going to – continue – to prove that i'm the right choice." wrapping the box up in a bag, osamu places it on the counter,

"it's on the house, ya' know, considering yer ex thinks i'm better and all."

again! note that this is completely meant for fictional purposes and i'm doing this because i'm a whore for pettiness, heartache, and being a complete bitch and girl boss after getting cheated on. i love atsumu sm and would literally give him the world if he was real.

anyways, FUN FACT! the line: you're still hurt, even if your mind doesn't think so, your heart and body does. was something my therapist said to me!

sibling quarrel~