#osamu x yn
this summer, i…
↳ i. (got lost in you)
miya osamu x reader, 8.5k
SUMMARY: sometimes the best way to get over someone is to actually just date them. or in your hopeless case, ask them to help you practice dating.
a/n: well… she’s back ! i’ll be updating twice a week so if you’ve already read these chaps u won’t be waiting long for the end ! hope u enjoy :’) for anyone who was on my previous taglist, let me know if you’re still interested !
You were going through an existential crisis. Every college student was entitled to one, right? What do I do with my life? What’s my purpose? Will I ever find the true meaning to happiness? Has anyone actually come out of life unscathed? Has anyone actually found an answer?
You think you have. Your existential crisis came in the form of Miya Osamu.
This was the reality of your situation:
One, Miya Osamu is a third year business major, close friend, and the object of your affection for the past two years.
Second, this big fat crush you’ve been harbouring is preventing you from living life to the fullest. College is meant to be the time when you date around and experiment to learn what you want in a relationship. You can’t do that when you’ve only got eyes for one person.
Third, given the first two points, you’ve come to the conclusion that you just need to get over Miya Osamu.
The first question is: how?
When you tell Suna over a bowl of curry at lunch, he doesn’t take you seriously. “You say that like you haven’t been trying, since you saw him going on a date with someone else.”
You frown back at him. That had been the first time you’d realised that nothing was going to come out of your feelings. After seeing him in that cafe with another girl, this is the conclusion you’ve reached. To Osamu, you were just a friend so your feelings would never come to any fruition.
It’sfine,you think to yourself. You’ve had months to accept it, and now it’s time for you to move on. “I haven’t tried hard enough,” is what you say.
“And why is that?” Suna asks, looking at you seriously.
“Do you really have to be serious all the time?” You pout. “Do you really have to be a psych major right now?”
“I’mgenuinely asking you,” he responds, “because I want to know how different things will be this time around.”
“Ok, but I’m determined this time!” You smile, “I’m in my early 20s, my primeyears— don’t you think someone as pretty as me deserves to have a fun love life?”
In response, Suna starts eating again and you whine at him. “Rin, come on, won’t you help me out?”
“The best way to move on is to just tell him how you feel and let him reject you.” he says seriously. “You’re the type of person who needs a rejection, otherwise you’ll just keep hoping.”
“What hope are you talking about?” You ask. “I’ve never actually believedthat Osamu would date me. It was just a lot of wishful thinking.” You say this matter-of-factly, as if you’re talking about the weather, or like how Miya Osamu has grey hair. “I don’t need to be rejected so I don’t need to confess anything.”
Suna sighs at your words. “So what are you going to do? Use somebody as a rebound to get over him? How are you even going to do that when you compare everyone to Osamu.”
You open your mouth to deny but he beats you to it. “Don’t even— do you know how many times I’ve witnessed you rejecting someone because ‘they’re not as nice as Osamu’, or because they’re not being romantic enough? This isn’t a movie Y/N. You have to start being more realistic.”
“Then what do you want me to do?” you pout. “It’s not my fault everyone pales in comparison! It’s not like I can just date him to get it out of my system.”
The gears start to turn in your head as soon as the words leave your mouth. You’ve read enough novels, and watched enough movies to know that fake-dating someone you like can only end two ways: either you both fall in love for real, or get your heart broken. There’s a 99% possibility that Osamu would break your heart. But that one percent…
Your eyes light up and Suna groans, seeing the look on your face. “No, don’t even think about it.”
“You haven’t even heard what I was going to say!” you whine.
Suna just sighs, looking unconvinced, but lets you continue.
You straighten your back, declaring, “I’ll ask Osamu to be my practice boyfriend, so I can practice going on dates.”
“Terrible idea. Osamu would never agree to it.”
.
.
.
“Sure, I’ll do it.” Osamu says casually when you ask.
You blink. You had been prepared to grovel, shed tears and pull out a presentation on why Miya Osamu should be your practice boyfriend. You had even made sure to do it when he was in the middle of eating to make sure he was in a good mood. And here he was, not even looking up and agreeing? Something’s not right.
Safe to say, you’re suspicious. “Oh,” you scratch your head, “just like that?”
Osamu looks at you, in the middle of slurping some noodles, and doesn’t even take his time to finish chewing and swallowing before responding, mouth full and cheeks puffed up, “Well, you’re going to treat me, right?”
It hurts your pride that his gross manners still makes him unbelievably cute.
“Ah, there’s the Samu I know!” you clap your hands and smile when Osamu predictably glares at you.
“Nevermind,” Osamu says, turning away from you and taking his meal with him too. “You are clearly not grateful enough. It’s sad, because I am so kind.”
You want to laugh again, but you hide it with a cough. “Samu, please,” you whine, “I’ll treat you to food.”
Osamu turns back to you, but only partially. But you know you’ve successfully baited him already. “How much food?”
“As much as my minimum wage job can procure,” you promise, but with the intent to break it. Osamu was a garbage truck when it came to food, and you were going to be broker than broke if Osamu wasn’t given set limits.
Osamu nods, reaching out to fist bump you to conclude your agreement. You cheer and meet his fist.
And Suna thought you wouldn’t even get him to agree. It is really all too easy.
.
.
.
But then you didn’t really think that far ahead on what this practice dating would entail. You’re easily swept away by grand ideas and tend to forget the details for execution. Worry not, you’re already working on fixing this.
“You may be wondering why I’ve called you in for a meeting,” you begin, sitting primly at Osamu and Suna’s dining table. (To call it a dining table is like calling a child a man, but this is not your apartment, so you can’t judge toohard.)
“In my own apartment?” Osamu slides into the chair, so that you’re facing each other, “Do you ever stay at your own place?”
You narrow your eyes at him, “Of course, I do. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the practice boyfriend thingy—”
Osamu leans back, smirking, “The practice boyfriend thingy?”
You pull out a piece of paper, huffing and trying hard not to regret your decision, “I just think we should probably write down some ground rules on it, especially if you’re going to do it in exchange for compensation—”
“Did Miwa coach you through this—”
“Are you going to let me finish talking?” you wait for him to finish miming the zipping of his lips, before continuing, “Also, no, I did not learn this from our favourite pre-law student. This was in To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. I figured it’s probably good to write down what we’re both comfortable with and what kind of lessons we’ll be doing?”
Osamu looks at you thoughtfully, “Well, in terms of lessons, that’s up to you, right? Like what do you want to practise?”
When you think about relationships, you think of pretty idyllic images of first dates, holding hands while walking underneath cherry blossom trees, and kissing. You’re sure Osamu would bully you if you actually said this out loud. So vaguely, you say, “Just dating in general, I guess? The thought of going on dates makes me nervous. Like what do I do? What do I wear? What’s a good place for a date?”
“These things you kind of have to experience to know?” Osamu says, slowly, leaning forward and propping his chin on the palm of his hand, “Like we should probably just go on an actual date and you can be as bad of a first date without repercussions. I think that’s the best way.”
You nod, letting the idea sink in, “That could work.”
Osamu nods, “You can pay me back easily with a meal too,” and then he grins, “so I was thinking you should take me out somewhere expensive—”
You kick his leg under the table, “Please remember I’m a college student just like you.”
Osamu doesn’t even bat an eye at your violent reaction. “Is that it?” Osamu steals the paper and pen from your grasp and writes the word dates in a comically small font on the blank page.
You scratch your head, “I don’t really have any experience, so I don’t really know what I need to know. I’ll just trust you on this. You’re the one who’s been on a thousand dates.”
You laugh when you see the unamused expression on Osamu’s face. “You make it sound like I’ve dated a lot, it’s only been a couple of times.”
“Only been a couple of times,” you mock, “Samu, I’ve seen you at parties. You’re the biggest flirt I know.”
Your own desensitisation to Osamu’s flirtatiousness is a testament to how many times you’ve seen it. You’ve long accepted defeat. Osamu leans back in his chair and smiles, “Is that why you came to me? You clearly admire my talent.”
“That is so not it,” you roll your eyes. And then because you like to get the last word, even at the cost of being vulnerable, you glance away and admit, “It’s because I trust you the most. That’s why I asked.”
You peek at his reaction and feel a weird sense of delight at the taken aback look on his face. It’s got you feeling like you’ve won something for once.
“Oh,” Osamu says softly, and then he just looks heart wrenchingly kind. “I’ll take care of you.”
Your heartbeat ricochets off to the horizon. There is perhaps no winning against Miya Osamu.
.
.
.
The first date doesn’t happen for a while, so much so that you almost forget about the whole thing. You say almost because Suna reminds you of it every once in a while, like an evil Duolingo owl. But midterms season comes at you hard, and all the practice dating business is swept under the rug.
For the sake of your grades, you put yourself under the tutelage of Miwa, dear friend and also the scariest person you know. As long as she’s watching you, you know you’ll stay focused on work.
Like now for example, it’s a Wednesday night, which typically means watching a new episode of some zombie show at Osamu and Suna’s apartment. They had found it recently and for once, Suna was interested in a drama you had suggested. You hope they’re not watching it without you tonight as you slave over your studies at the library.
You peek over at Miwa, who is studiously outlining her textbook and comparing it with the notes she had taken in class. She looks so at peace studying, that it must be why they chose her as the model for the university’s pre-law program.
Miwa must feel you looking at her, because without even looking up from her textbook, she asks, “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” you say, going back to your textbook. But the history notes you’re trying to study are looking blurrier by the second. You want to take a break already, but you’ve only been here for an hour. Still, you try to persevere.
A moment later, your phone buzzes and you’re delighted to see that it’s a text from your group chat with Suna and Osamu. You swipe to see the notification:
From Suna: Where are you? Are you really studying? >:(
You snort at Suna’s doubt and reply: you’ve caught me. i’m actually on a date with miwa <3
You get a response immediately: Miwa is too good for you. She would never!!
Followed by a message from Osamu: are you :o cheating on me already?
You shake your head at Suna’s predictability. He is so obvious with his massive crush on Miwa. You ignore Osamu’s message. The teasing is an unfortunate side effect of asking him to be your practice boyfriend.
You open your camera and point it at Miwa, “Miwa, Rin wants proof that I’m actually studying with you.”
“Is Rintarou your mom?” Miwa drily asks but poses cute nonetheless.
You smirks, immediately sending the pic to the group chat. “No, but he nags like he is,” is what you tell her. You locs your phone and pretend to look at your textbook as you wait for the notifications to come in.
You don’t have to wait long. Your phone buzzes so much that you have to switch it to silent mode due to Miwa’s judgemental look. You smile sheepishly and unlock your phone to see what Suna has to say.
Suna is crying in your messages: She is so cute :’(
Though almost immediately, he sends another message full of his suspicions: How do I know she didn’t send this to you?
Osamu decides to add on to his previous message: wow, so you’re really cheating on me :(
You roll your eyes at both of them and type furiously: Why would Miwa send me a selfie of herself studying to fool you? Also, please be quiet, Osamu-kun :)
But your response doesn’t even make a difference. Suna texts back: I think I have to go over there to check for myself.
While Osamu texts: Buy my silence. For the price of one shin ramen, I will be quiet for the five minutes it takes me to eat—
You put your phone down, refusing to read any further. Apologetic, you turn to Miwa, “Hope you don’t mind, but Rin might be stopping by.”
Miwa shakes her head but it’s more good-natured than anything. She smiles, “Fine. But tell him to bring coffee and snacks with him.”
“You want your usual coffee?” you ask, and Miwa hums affirmatively. You send one last text to the group chat, basically telling Suna to get you and Miwa snacks and food as well as your location in the library.
You assume that you’ll get nothing done once Suna comes around, so you actually seriously study in the meantime. You aren’t that bad of a student anyway; you just need to study with someone strict like Miwa, so your brain doesn’t wander endlessly. In class, you’re actually pretty studious.
Half an hour later, you see the impact of Suna’s arrival first — in front of you, Miwa brightens considerably and when you turn around, you see Suna walking like he’s the male lead of a K-drama. He must have brushed his hair, changed his clothes from the pyjamas you for sure know he was wearing to a stylish outfit, and his smile is in full force. You can’t stand him. He did not get dressed this nicely just to check if you were actually studying.
Suna barely looks at you, and instead his attention is fully on Miwa as he cradles the coffee he got for her. “Hey, Miwa-kun.”
“Rin,” Miwa greets, tone sweet enough to replace sugar in coffee, “Is that my coffee?”
Suna nods, handing it over, “Yup, one caramel macchiato.”
Miwa thanks him with starry eyes and a smile. It’s only then you notice that Suna only had one coffee with him, and you fight the urge to whack him with your textbook. You settle for glaring at him, “What about me? Where’s the coffee I asked for?”
Suna shrugs, “I don’t have it with me. I’m sorry I accidentally dropped it, but it’s okay, your mom told me you shouldn’t be allowed to drink coffee past dinner—”
Just as you’re about to retort, somebody’s hand places an iced americano in front of you. You look up wide-eyed to see Osamu cooly winking at you, “Ah, so you were actually studying.”
“Samu,” you’re surprised to see him since he didn’t say he was coming by too, “What are you doing here?”
Osamu pinches your cheek, “I wanted to make sure we were pausing our show for a good reason.”
You pout, “I’m actually studying, so you guys don’t have to check up on me.”
“Lesson #1,” Osamu sighs, “Practice boyfriends should check up and bring coffee as support.”
You flush at that, tugging at your ear that was definitely turning bright red. “Well, thank you.”
Osamu thankfully turns his attention to Miwa and Suna, while you start sipping your coffee to distract yourself from the way Osamu is pressed to your side, and how his fingers are absentmindedly playing with random strands of your hair.
You don’t know why you’re getting so affected by these things. You’ve always been touchy with Osamu, never really worrying about looking too affectionate, since you act that way with everybody. But now, it’s like the same things are felt through different lenses. Is it because Osamu is saying he’s doing things as your “practice boyfriend”? You really don’t know.
Once Suna is done flirting with Miwa and thanked her for helping his poor friend study, Osamu does a small laugh and turns to you again. “Think you’ll ace your midterms?”
You sigh at the reminder but smile up at him, “With enough motivation, I should be able to. Miwa will make sure of it.”
Osamu leans down and you think it’s to kiss your head goodbye as he always does, but instead he leans close to your ear. He whispers so that Miwa and Suna can’t hear, “If you do well, I’ll take you out on that date. That should be enough motivation, right?”
“You’re so full of yourself,” you bristle at the suggestion, but Osamu just smirks as he pulls away. Where does he get the confidence and the shamelessness to say all these things?
Nevertheless, you hope all of this satisfies your heart enough, so by the time it’s over, you can easily move on and let this stupid crush go.
The way your heart clenches tells a premonition you refuse to acknowledge though.
.
.
.
Before you know it, midterms seasons pass and you’ve actually done well enough for yourself. It’s all thanks to Miwa and her hard work. You’d crashed hard at Suna’s apartment and threw yourself at his arms, whose owner had groaned and complained that you were too heavy now to be doing stuff like this. You usually ignore his complaints, because his actions are typically the opposite of his words.
Once you’ve gotten your dose of comfort from your best friend, you happily move on, ready as ever to put that harrowing experience aside. You won’t admit it out loud, but you had taken midterms a bit more seriously this time. You’ve never been the type to put too much pressure on yourself to do well for less important classes, but there was a prize waiting for you this time if you did well.
A date, you thought with a giddiness that had you rolling around your twin sized XL dorm bed and almost falling to the floor.
You hope your grades reflect your hard work and high hopes for once.
A week later, as you’re getting coffee with Miwa, you get the notification that your grades are up.
“Oh my god,” you exclaim, surprising Miwa beside you.
“What’s wrong?” Miwa looks at you concerned.
You shove your phone at her, “God, I can’t look, you look. Tell me that I passed.”
Miwa takes your phone from your waiting hand and you can see her click through the screen. Suddenly, Miwa frowns and you immediately panics, “Oh god, what’s wrong? How bad is it—”
Miwa hands your phone back to you, “It needs your login information.”
“Miwa,god,” you could have screamed. You put your login information quickly and hand it back to her, “Open it already.”
Miwa is patient enough that she doesn’t even roll her eyes at your demands. Your heart is pounding, jaw tense, and then suddenly, Miwa looks at you with a bright smile, “Y/N! You did really well—”
You grab your phone back to look for yourself and right there on the screen shows your midterm grades for your classes, and they’re all surprisingly… decent? They’re not just passing scores either, some of them are in the 90s range. “I can’t believe this,” you wrap your arms around her in a tight hug, “Me, doing well in all my classes? Sounds fake.”
Miwa pats your head, “See? I told you that hard work never lies. We should celebrate, preferably with some ice cream.”
You laugh, “You and Rin have the same taste. But okay, today it’s my treat. Anything you want, Miwa-kun.”
Miwa does a quiet little cheer with both her hands. “I know a place,” she says, then starts leading the way.
You screenshot your scores and send it to the person that’s been on your mind all day, worried that if you don’t do that now, you’ll forget (as if you could). You mute your phone’s message notifications immediately after sending it, because you’re nervous of what Osamu will reply with. You’ll check it when you’re ready.
That time happens to come when you’ve made it back to your room and you’re happily showered and in bed. Clutching the stuffed toy you sleep with at night, you finally open your messages and see that there’s a couple messages from Osamu.
The first text says: good job!!!!!!!!!
And the second text says: should I keep my promise? :^)
You roll around in your bed to scream into a pillow. When you’ve let whatever emotion Osamu has inspired out, you calmly compose a reply: thank u and yes you should!
Osamu replies immediately: ok. be free and cute on saturday. my treat.
Your heart flutters at the text message and you hate how your brain can’t differentiate this practice date from something real. You respond: but i’m already cute all the time!!
well, Osamu’s final text message says, be even cuter. it’s a date.
You fall off the bed this time around. But if no one saw and the only evidence is that it takes you an extra five minutes to reply (your butt hurts and it’s distracting you from choosing an appropriate emoji), then did it really happen?
Your calm, cool, and collected response is:it’s a date
.
.
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Saturday comes soon enough, but not without Suna pestering you for details. It was a mistake to decide to meet at their apartment. You’re not even early, but Osamu had seen your outfit and then stomped back into his room, yelling, “Y/N, you forgot to tell me what you were wearing!”
You look down at your clothes, a nice top, some blue jeans, boots and a leather jacket. Is it not cool enough to pass Osamu’s fashion taste? Whatever, you think, settling down on the couch next to Suna, who turns to you and says, “Can’t believe this is really happening. My baby’s first date—”
“It’s not a real date,” You say cooly, “It’s for practice, stupid.”
“Oh?” Suna raises his brow, and then pulls out his phone, “Then why were you texting Miwa for date advice?”
You purse your mouth and fight the temptation to stick your tongue out, “Why do you know that? Why is Miwa snitching on me to you?”
Suna does not fight the temptation and sticks his tongue out. “We were hanging out, and she just mentioned it. I thought you were trying to keep it a secret.”
“I thought Miwa could keep her mouth shut,” you grumble, sinking back against the couch cushions. “What’s going on with you and Miwa?”
“Nothing,” Suna shrugs, nonchalant. “We’ve just been hanging out a lot. She’s super fun and friendly,and she likes sushi.”
You roll your eyes, “Everything I’m not.”
Suna claps his hands with delight, “Oh? You said it, not me.”
“God, Samu, hurry up before I kill your roommate,” you call out, turning away from Suna’s ugly face. You joke, “You already look beautiful, please,I’m hungry…”
Suna snorts, leaning closer to whisper, “Hey, try not to sound like you’re absolutely in love.”
Thankfully, Osamu decides to grace you all with his presence, walking out in a very similar outfit to what you’re wearing. You stand up, surprised. “Oh, we’re matching?”
Osamu smiles proudly at himself, extending a hand towards you, “Cute, right? It’s not a date if we’re not wearing a couple look. This is lesson number one.”
“Well, you should have said so,” you pout, putting your hands on your hips.
“Ah, stop pouting,” Osamu whines, shaking his outstretched hand for you to take, “Come on, I’m hungry, we should eat already.”
You shyly take his hand, but Osamu intertwines your hands without hesitation and pulls you out of the door. It leaves you stuttering out a goodbye to Suna, who sends you two thumbs up while mouthing, stay strong!
Tell that to my runaway heart, Suna Rintarou . A couple look and they’re holding hands already? It’s only eleven in the morning and there’s only one word for the state you’re in: shambles. You are in shambles.
You don’t know where Osamu’s taking you, but you’re content to just follow for now. As shy as it makes you, you’re glad to be holding hands too. It’s a chilly morning, even with the sun high and shining; and holding hands is good for warmth, amongst other things you don’t have the current mental capacity to dwell on right now.
Osamu squeezes your joined hands, “Sincerely, congrats on doing well in your midterms. I remember everything gets harder beginning your second year.”
“Thanks,” you give him a dimpled grin, “But, yeah, I already miss being a first year. Now I can’t even skip classes.”
“You shouldn’t skip classes in the first place anyway,” Osamu nags at you, but you just bat your eyelashes at him, innocent, and then Osamu sighs, “Okay, fine, I’m not going to lecture you when I’ve done my share of skipping—”
You intentionally bump your shoulders against his and laugh, “Good, that’s better. You were starting to sound like Rin. No offence, but only Miwa is allowed to nag at me about school.”
“Full offence,” Osamu deadpans, “Why do you respect Miwa, who’s younger than you, but never listen to me or Suna, huh?”
“Because Miwa can crumple me with one hand,” you say easily. “She invited me to go with her to the gym once and the girl was lifting weights heavier than me. I think she invited me for a specific reason…”
Osamu throws his head back laughing, “I know Suna doesn’t work out much, but I do. And I definitely lift weights heavier than you. Why aren’t you scared then?”
You smile angelically and steel yourself for the potential backlash, “Well, Samu, I know you adore me. Why would I be scared of you?”
Immediately, Osamu reaches over with his free hand and pinches your cheek hard, “You think just because you’re cute you’re not gonna get beat up one day?”
You try to pull away, but Osamu evidently works out. Stuck in place, you stick your tongue out, “When that day comes, let me know and I’d like to see you try to catch me.”
Osamu frowns at that, letting you go and patting your cheek, “Hey, you’re not saying stuff like this to other people, right? You’re really going to get beat up one day if you are.”
This is exactly why you aren’t afraid. Osamu underneath all the smirks, all the posturing, and the daredevil attitude, is a sweet, caring person. He could have said that in the first place, but well… where’s the fun in that?
You change the subject, “Sure. Now what about food?”
“Almost there, it’s just up the street ahead.”
They come to a stop in front of a cafe, with floor to ceiling windows, wooden tables and tons of greenery. Osamu pulls open the glass door and gestures for you to go in first, and you do, with eyes flitting upon every pretty thing in the cafe. What catches your eyes is the way the light filters in from the windows and falls; what is muted becomes bright.
“Y/N,” Osamu calls you over, already looking at the menu, “What do you want to eat?”
“Woah,” you marvel at it, a simple one page menu, but there were watercolour renditions of each item they served. “Those pancakes look good, should we get that?”
“Which one? Do you want the one with fruits or with chocolate?”
You hum in thought, “Let’s go with fruit, since the strawberries look good.”
“Okay, cool,” Osamu says, then points at the drinks, “Did you have coffee already?”
“No, but I kind of want the fruity drinks instead. That strawberry lemon tea looks good too,” you murmur, scanning the menu. “Ugh, why does everything look good?”
Osamu laughs, “I think I’m going to get just an Americano.”
“Should I do that too?”
“No, you should get what you want,” Osamu gently pushes you to the counter, so you can start ordering.
You do end up ordering the strawberry lemon tea and you order for Osamu as well as your shared pancake. Just as you’re about to pull out your purse, Osamu reaches over you and tells the cashier to take his card instead.
“But—” you try to interrupt, but Osamu just winks at you and any protests you have dies down. “My treat, remember?”
When he finishes paying, you take a table in the far corner of the cafe, right by a window. You let out a pleased sigh, looking out into the street, “This is so nice, how did you find this place?”
“A friend suggested it,” Osamu says vaguely, “I’ve actually been meaning to try it for a while, but just never had the chance.”
You nod, “Thanks for paying, by the way. Even though I’m supposed to pay…”
“Don’t worry, we can go out to eat at another time, and you can definitely pay then,” Osamu says, cheekily. “Just say thank you, Samu. You’re the best, Samu.”
“You’re the best, Osamu-kun,” you say, a touch too sincere for a practice date at eleven am. Well, you’ve never hidden your affection for him that well anyway. You don’t need to when Osamu interprets it all as friendly love. Some things are better lost in translation.
Osamu glows with the praise, patting his own shoulder, “I know, wait until the food gets here, then you’ll be even more amazed.”
And you are amazed when the food gets to the table. The server approaches you with your drinks that look as dreamy as their watercolour counterparts, and the pancakes are covered in powdered sugar so fine it looks like snow. When the server sets your food on the table, you’re surprised to see actual watercolour paints, brushes and paper with the meal.
“Ta-da!” Osamu excitedly cheers, “This cafe is actually known as a place you can paint at with an order of a drink.”
You’re starry-eyed at the array of colours the cafe has provided you with. You turn to him, pouting, “Hey, why are you unfairly good at everything?”
Osamu sips his Americano and shrugs, “Some people are just perfect. What can we do?”
“Alright, alright,” you’re hungry, you’ll eat first, before Osamu eats all of it by himself.
You cut yourself a piece of the pancake, making sure to get each element of the dish on your fork, and finally eat it. You wiggle happily at the sweet taste, “This is so good. I’m happy.”
Osamu laughs, “I’m glad.”
You’re both so hungry, you finish the pancake in just a couple of minutes. You let Osamu have the last piece, “Since you paid, you can have it.”
Osamu shakes his head, “No, since it’s my treat to you, you should have it.”
You purse your lips, “I’m full. Seriously, you should eat it. I’m going to start painting.”
“You eat like a little bird,” Osamu says, amused. But he ends up finishing up the last bite of the pancake, so really, you pay him no mind. You’ve been itching to play with the watercolour paints since the beginning.
You grab a pencil to try and sketch out a scene for you to paint, but your mind comes up blank. You hum quietly in thought, “What should I draw?”
“Draw me,” Osamu suggests, striking a pose, “Paint me like one of your french boys.”
You laugh, “I’ve never actually seen that movie.”
“It’s a classic. I think even Suna has seen it,” Osamu pushes your trays of food to the side, bringing his own watercolour supplies closer to him.
“Don’t like tragic endings. What’s the point? If you’re gonna write a love story, might as well make it happy.” You watched Brokeback Mountain once. It was devastating and you’d vowed never to watch it again. “Also, sure I’ll draw and paint you, if you do the same for me. But if it’s ugly, I’m going to be real sad.”
Osamu’s jaw drops, offended, “I’ve taken an art elective once. No need to be judgy, Picasso. If mine turns out ugly, I’ll be really mad. If this was a real date, I’d be mad enough not to want a second date.”
You copy what he said in a mocking way and laugh when Osamu tries to grab you from the other side of the table. “Okay, be quiet. I need to concentrate, so I can earn this hypothetical second date.”
Osamu snorts before copying what you said in the same mocking tone. You laugh again. You get along so well.
You guys end up focusing on your drawings, promising not to reveal to each other what it looks like until you’re both finished. You realise that you’ve been too focused on painting that you’ve gone quiet for a while. “Hey, shouldn’t we be talking? Is that what people do on dates?”
“Yes and no,” Osamu answers, without looking up from his work, “You should just be having fun and getting to know the other person on a date. There’s not really a lot of rules.”
“Hmm, I am having a lot of fun not hearing your voice,” You smirk, but get a deserved kick in the leg for it. “Ow, that hurts!”
“Lesson number ten, you probably shouldn’t insult your date,” Osamu says.
“Lesson number ten, you probably shouldn’t insult your date,” You copy again in a mocking way, “Also, how are we at lesson number ten already? And how am I supposed to get to know you, when we’re already friends?”
“I’m not keeping count, I just choose whatever number pops up in my head,” Osamu says, dipping his brush in water to wash out the colour that he’s using, “Anyway, to your other question, there’s always more to know. For example, first impressions?”
“I should be asking you that,” you snort, “Pretty sure, you hated me when we first met.”
Osamu laughs out loud at that, “That’s just my face when it’s resting. Also! You were the one who hated me. Always hanging around in my apartment with Suna, and whenever I said hi, you’d just nod coldly!”
“Because!” you laugh too, “You were scary and intimidating. If only you’d cracked your lame dad jokes earlier…”
Osamu finally looks up at you, “How was I scary and intimidating? I remember I offered you oranges. I was sonice!”
“And when I peeled them, you demanded I give you some,” you say, all matter-of-fact.
“I asked nicely! I didn’t realise it was the last orange and I was hungry,” Osamu explains.
“I was under duress, what if you kicked me out if I didn’t give it back?”
“Wow,” Osamu says, “You really thought your best friend was rooming with such a scary person?”
You smile, a gesture of mock comfort, “Don’t worry, I don’t think that at all anymore.”
Osamu glares at you, before sighing. You think it’s so funny when he does that, knowing you’re the cause. Osamu goes back to finishing up his painting, “So? When did your perception of me change then?”
It is an essay worthy question.
Contrary to what Suna thinks and claims, it really wasn’t love at first sight. You don’t believe in that kind of thing anyway. You think about when it all changed for you. It’s not a lie to say that your first impression of Osamu was that he was scary and intimidating. After all, Osamu was already popular in their university. You’d heard the rumours of a Miya Osamu, who was considered the top student of his grade and was one of the best in the business department even as a second year at that time. Who wouldn’t be intimidated?
And then, you had first seen him in person when you visited Suna’s apartment for the first time. You’d been sitting on the couch with Suna, and this guy walks out, dark ripped jeans, black long-sleeved sweater, and piercing dark eyes half covered by his hair. If You had to use one word to describe him, it would be captivating.
You hadn’t been able to look away from him and even when Suna officially introduced you to each other, you had been so nervous, you could only nod at him.
“Y/N?” Osamu breaks you out of your thoughts, “Is it something to think so hard about?”
“I’m trying to remember when too,” you let your thoughts wander to the answer, as your hands busy themselves with the finishing touches on your work. You switch to the colour black, just to give the drawing emphasis by outlining.
Could it have been that very first movie night, when Suna had chosen an old horror movie that had you both screaming into Suna’s shoulders?
Was it that random night you had fallen asleep on their couch and woke up covered in blankets and your head cushioned by pillows? You’d asked Suna about it, but he’d denied it was him.
Was it any of the numerous times Osamu had complained how hungry he was and yet had never hesitated to share his food with you? Or any of the numerous times Osamu had let you borrow a jacket, or a hat, or even a pair of gloves?
You can’t remember. Maybe you just woke up and knew the inevitable: there’s some people you’re just meant to fall for.
You end up giving Osamu a bullshit answer, pretending to think hard, “I think it was when you got really scared of that movie we watched. What was it, the Grudge?”
Osamu covers his face in embarrassment, “Hey, that was scary for everybody. You slept over that night too!”
“Oh,” you squint, “Was that the night we all slept on the living room floor, because we were all scared of sleeping by ourselves that night?”
Osamu nods, smiling at the memory, “I think that was even scarier, because I didn’t know you talked in your sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night wondering who you were talking to, and then had a mini freak out when I realised nobody else was there.”
You scratch the back of your neck, “Yeah, that happens…”
Osamu doesn’t make fun of you for it and just moves on, “I’m done with my painting of you. Do you need more time?”
You shake your head, pulling up your canvas and making sure Osamu can’t see it just yet, “Nope, shall we do the grand reveal?”
“Should I go first?” Osamu asks, and then smiles when you nod your head. “Okay, then,” he says, turning his canvas over. “What do you think?”
Osamu’s painting doesn’t look like you at all. It’s a cute little bear with a little orange slice in its claws surrounded by orange peels around it.
You frown, “How is that me?”
Osamu gasps, dramatic, “What do you mean? That bear is you.”
“I don’t look like a bear,” you pout, “Why is it eating oranges?”
“Because we were talking about first impressions right? This is literally my first impression of you. Ah, you were so cute and so round. You still had your brown hair then,” Osamu sighs happily. “Okay, it’s your turn now. Show me what you got.”
You turn yours over, carefully watching Osamu’s expression as he takes in the art. You had drawn a cartoon version of the Osamu in front of you right now, white fleece jacket and grey hair and all, with a little fox sitting beside him, snow falling over them both.
“It looks warm,” Osamu says, and you think, what an odd thing to say about a snow scene. “You drew me so cutely and all the little details. And the colour! I think you’ve captured it very well.”
“I just pay attention,” you shrug, “Do you like it? It’s titled, Foxes in the snow.”
Osamu nods, utterly endeared by it, “I love it.”
You hand the canvas to Osamu and watch him continue to admire the work. There is something revealing here too. I pay attention, you had said like it was nothing. But that’s something of an admission, right? And if attention was the beginning of devotion, then what does it mean when you’ve always looked at him, right from the very start?
.
.
.
Nothing really changes much between you after that. Although it’s weird to have the experience of a date between you two. Some friends were exes once, some have even gone on dates, and inevitably, at least once in the course of history, friends must have practised dating, right?
You wonder how different it would be if you guys were actually dating.
Would you have ended the date with a promise for another one, instead of giving each other a friendly hug goodbye?
Would you have looked at each other shyly in your couple outfits, instead of watching all the other couples around you in theirs? (You were so embarrassed on everyone’s behalf; the couple’s outfit was cute on you and Osamu, but not everyone can pull it off.)
You really wouldn’t know beyond what your mind comes up with at night, when you’re alone in bed.
As for what happens next, you’ll let Osamu decide what other ‘practice dating’ things you can do. You’ll just go along with the ride.
Besides, it’s Wednesday.
And Wednesdays are reserved for Suna and Osamu and one episode of your stupid zombie show. Maybe some snacks too.
You excitedly climb up the stairs to their shared apartment. You’re wearing comfy clothes already, and you even brought a toothbrush over too, just in case, you guys end up watching something else and decide to stay over. It wouldn’t be the first time.
You get to their door and knock a sweet little beat on the door to announce your presence. At the lack of response, you knock again, and this time it’s no sweet beat but pure rage in a knock. You eventually hear someone yell, “Hold on!” but it’s cold outside and what is more important than letting you in? That’s right — nothing. So, you keep knocking.
The door opens up suddenly, and Suna looks at you so unimpressed, “I said hold on.”
“But it’s cold,” you pout, shouldering your way in. Their apartment is nice and toasty warm; you shed your jacket, placing it over the back of the couch, and go immediately to the kitchen for a drink.
“Did you eat already?” Suna asks, coming to stand with him in the kitchen, “Samu said he wanted to order some pizza and fried chicken, do you want to join in?”
“I already ate dinner, but I wouldn’t mind a couple bites. How much are you guys ordering?” you find the green tea that you stored in their cupboard for safekeeping with the excitement of a scavenger looking for gold.
Suna shrugs, “I think he said he was ordering some pepperoni, margherita and maybe a hawaiian.”
You frown, “And you’re getting fried chicken on top of that?”
“And snacks,” Suna confirms, “Samu said class was so tiring, and that he needs to cheer himself up with food.”
Osamu has always been a hard worker. You and Suna work hard on your own respective courses too, but Osamu is a little more… passionate about his. Even outside of class, he spends a majority of his time cooking up new dishes to try. Most of the time when you come over, there’s a new dish waiting for you to try. There’s talent and then there’s hard work, you think, and it fills you with awe to be able to witness both in someone you can call your friend.
This sentiment stays with you through the rest of the night, even when you’ve settled on their couch and are waist-deep in the show’s plot filled with political intrigue and, well, zombies. On the television screen, the drama’s main lead, the Crown Prince barely escapes the Crown’s army once again. The three of you are sitting side by side on the floor, with Suna and Osamu flanking each of your sides, mindlessly eating the takeout as you’re all gripped by the scenes unfolding on the screen.
It’s kind of gross, you think, watching the dead bodies pile up on screen parallel the pile of chicken bones piling up in front of you. You had claimed three slices of pizza and three chicken wings and felt full (benefits of actually having dinner), so you felt content to lean back against the couch and just watch.
“How long do you guys think you’d last in a zombie apocalypse?” You wonder out loud.
Suna snorts, “I think I would die pretty early on.”
“I think I would make it pretty far,” Osamu interjects, then points a chicken bone at Suna, “You should stick with me, you’ll live longer.”
You smile sympathetically at Suna, “Suna, I think you would die early too. You’re the self-sacrificing type, so I’ll make sure to stick with you. I know you’ll save me.”
“Wow,” Suna frowns at you, which would be more impactful if his mouth wasn’t glistening with pizza sauce. “If I become a zombie first, I’ll make sure to eat you first,” Suna pinches your cheek, aggressive enough that you yelp, “I’ll bite you right where the fat is.”
You pull away, rubbing your cheek. You glare, “You think I won’t shoot you in the head first? You won’t get even close enough to bite me.”
“Ha,” Suna scoffs, the side of his mouth quirking up into a smirk, “As if. You’d be crying over my pre-zombie infected body. And you’ll be so sad that you won’t even notice I’ve turned already and then you’ll be bitten.”
You roll your eyes and laugh mockingly, turning to Osamu, “Are you hearing this?”
But Osamu just starts laughing at you both instead, his clean hand coming up to cover his mouth. Suna reaches over with his socked foot, across your lap, to poke at Osamu, “Hey, is the hypothetical cannibalistic deaths of your favourite friends so amusing?”
“The two of you,” Osamu says, swallowing the food in his mouth, “are so damn funny.”
You bite your lips, trying to hold back a smile. It’s devastatingly easy to earn Osamu’s laughs, and you’ll do all kinds of stupid to be the cause of it. You turn to Suna, shaking your head in disappointment, “Wait till we’re both zombies and we come for him.”
Suna shakes his head too, “Look at him eating so well. That’s right, eat up! You will be so tasty when we turn into zombies and eat you.”
Osamu is unfazed by your threats, just keeps chuckling as he picks up another chicken drumstick in his hand. You turn back to the actual show playing before them, and it’s close to the end of the episode by the looks of it. You know what cliffhangers look like.
Here’s a cliffhanger: there’s a small spot of honey chilli chicken sauce right at the corner of Osamu’s mouth. Who’ll get to it faster? Osamu or you?
Even you don’t know how this ends, but what you do know is your own self-restraint. Or is it your own fear of being known? Either way, the stupid little spot mocks you and makes itself known even from the corner of your eye.
Your hands feel restless in your lap and it would be so easy to grab the napkins that came with the delivery order and make your move. This means nothing. Wiping someone’s mouth is something that could be considered a super friendly gesture. Actually, your big brain interjects, you don’t even have to wipe it yourself. You could just point it out. And at that, your mouth moves faster than whatever doubt yout mind can further conjure, “Samu, you’ve got something on your face.”
“Hmm?” Osamu turns to you, hands holding both ends of the drumstick, “I do?”
You nod and point to where it would be on your own face, “Like around right here?”
Osamu stupidly looks at his own hands, sees how dirty it is, and like he’s possessed by all the gods who are conspiring against your happiness and success, he says, “My hands are dirty. Can you get it for me?”
You could fucking sigh, but all you actually do is nod, casual and overly non-chalant, “Yeah, sure.”
You grab the napkin and watch Osamu angle his cheek towards you, while keeping his eyes on the television. You gently cup his cheek and lean close, carefully dabbing the spot away with the napkin. You make the mistake of looking at Osamu’s eyes as you do it, only for Osamu to catch you doing that.
You pull away immediately and feel your ears turn hot as you discard the napkin. “There, I got it.”
Osamu smiles, something shameless and sharp, “That was so heart fluttering, Y/N.”
“Shut up,” you cover your ears, burying yourself into Suna’s side. “You’re so annoying.”
Your response just makes him look even more pleased. So, you correct yourself. One thing has changed — Osamu’s flirting with you, and you know it’s not serious, but you still turn red every time. It’s a new discovery that Osamu will clearly not let go off any time soon. It’s dangerous.
And here’s the real cliffhanger: how long are you going to last before Osamu makes your confetti filled heart burst?
osamu + bubble pop electric
this is inspired by bubble pop electric from gwen stefani ♡
implied female body parts, he calls you bunny !
◦ u and osamu were driving home from a party
◦ both of u were horny asf
◦ y’all couldn’t wait until u were him so u parked the car in a random parking space <3
“fuck bunny” osamu moaned as you were leaned over from your passenger seat to suck him off. “you’re doing so well for me” osamu said while you were rolling your tongue around his tip. you couldn’t really respond so you just moaned around his dick which made osamu whimper. you started rubbing your thighs together to get some friction, because seeing osamu so fucked out was turning you on. “mhm ‘m gonna cum soon bunny” he pushed you off and you looked at him confused “let’s climb to the back bunny” and who were you to refuse.
tonight i’m gonna give you all my love in the backseat <3
(timeskip) Miya Osamu fic recommendations
(Reader inserts) Recommendations of my favorite headcanons/imagines/fics/scenarios (I don’t own any)
・・・・・・
- fluff/order’s up
- fluff/sleepyhead
- sfw fluff /open for midnight
- fluff/pocky sticks
- angst fluff/insecure
- fluff/fan favorite
- fluff/the other twin
- fluff/“you’ve always been the one”
- fluff/the comfort of home
- sfw fluff/you
- sfw fluff/unopened boxes
- fluff/life’s a b*tch
- fluff/pretend
- sfw/secret menu item
- sfw fluff/and they were roommates
- fluff/betrayed
- angst fluff/one more time
- *fluff/a day in his life
- fluff/childhood friends to lovers
- angst fluff/love lessons
- fluff/hands
- fluff/sierra
・・・・・・
Updated:22-Jan-2022
Banner made by me ♡
When The Jock Fell In Love With The Nerd
Osamu X Reader
Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, rejection, mental abuse, confusion in relationships, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, Depression, separation in family, twin brother’s are a pain, A baby daddy, A baby momma, idiotic decisions, regret in the past.
Next Chapter
Chapter 4: A Few Questions
Previously.
“Hey is your stomach still hurting?”
Akira asked me but the nausea along with the sharp pain grew stronger.
Unable to answer I ran more like staggered to the bathroom stall locking it and threw up feeling the sharp pain get worse but this time it wasn’t going away.
“IT HURTS!!”
I screamed in pain gripping my stomach.
“Someone help I can’t take this pain..”
“Hang on I’ll go get help!”
Akira said rushing to find the teacher.
“It fucking hurts!”
Each deep breath I took did ease the pain a little but just taking a breath was painful.
“I feel like I’m fucking going to die from this pain!”
I yelled feeling like I was about to pass out not long after a teacher named Yuka knocked on the stall.
“Are you okay (Y/N)?!”
I shook my head crying from the pain.
“Ms. Yuca It’s hurts so much I think somethings wrong with me!”
I then looked at my legs and saw period blood.
No it was more of a light pinkish watery blood.
…..
“There’s blood Ms. Yuca, something’s wrong more is coming out!”
I yelled feeling disgusted and in pain.
“OH MY FUCKING GOSH!!”
“(Y/N), the ambulance is on their way! Hang on sweetie.”
She knocked on the stall.
“I’m gonna need ya to open the stall ok? I need to check on you.. Can you open the stall?”
I sobbed in agony slowly barely crawling opening the stall.
“(Y/N)!”
“H-Help please.. I-I think I’m dying..”
I gripped onto her hand squeezing it tightly
“Ok calm down and take a few deep breaths..”
“It hurts.. so fucking bad…”
“Ms. what is arghh happening to me..”
“I don’t know but it’ll be alright I’m here.”
I smiled but quickly yelled feeling another sharp pain as I touched my lower stomach in pain.
“The ambulance is here!”
Akira said while two men with a stretcher came.
The whole class as well as half of the school witnessed the scene of the paramedics taking her out as she clutched her stomach yelling and a certain group of volleyball players where there including the Miya Twins.
“(Y/N)!”
(Y/N) POV
Katherine rushed out of the car running into inside the ambulance vehicle after her sister.
The ambulance took me away as I cried yelling out in pain leaving the school surprised and a bit scared.
“(Y/N)! I’m here!”
My sister rushed into the ambulances car
“My stomach hurts..”
I screamed gripping my sister’s hand while the nurse walked over.
“Okay (Y/N) stay calm and breathe Mom is on her way too!”
“M-Mom?”
“She is now calm down and breath ok?”
I tried breathing but yelled out unable to even open my eyes wincing in the pain.
“I C-CAN’T”
“(Y/N)..”
My sister’s eyes widened noticing blood.
“I can’t move anymore It hurts so much why won’t the pain stop!”
She looked at the doctor panicked.
“She’s bleeding a lot is she ok?!”
Katherine said concerned.
“Her blood is everywhere!”
The nurse checked my forhead.
“I don’t think that’s blood.”
The nurse said slightly getting a bit nervous and felt my pulse with her hand as her eyes widened as she turned to look at me.
“(Y/N) I’m gonna ask you some questions”
I nodded as another wave of pain hit me.
“Fuck!”
“Alright now.”
“Are you pregnant?”
“No she’s not look at her flat stomach on top of that she’s a virgin!”
My sister said angry then turned to me.
“Right?!”
“According to her pulse it indicates that she’s currently holding a child inside of her.”
“Wait what?!”
My sister screamed staring at me as I shook my head.
“No way I’m not pregnant!”
I yelled feeling something down move inside my stomach.
“I didn’t have any symptoms so fuck that!”
I shook my head in pain.
“I think it’s a cryptic pregnancy.”
She said.
“I’m not pregnant!”
She touched my stomach pushing it a bit.
“Okay wow we’re about to go into labor”
“WHAT! My sister isn’t really pregnant right?!”
“No doctor you’re wrong! I’m not pre-“
I screamed and felt the need to push to relieve the pain.
“You felt that right?”
The nurse said.
“What was that?!”
“It means you’re about to go into labor the baby is coming now.”
She looked at the driver.
“Her contractions are closer to each other I’ll prepare everything as soon as we get down straight of to the labor room.”
“(Y/N), what is going on?!”
My sister said in disbelief.
“(Y/N).. I need you to calm down alright we’re about to begin.”
The nurse took off my skirt and underwear putting a hospital gown over my shirt.
“I don’t have a baby in there!!!”
I panicked moving and trying to get up but couldn’t due to the nurses holding me down along with the sharp pain in my stomach.
“(Y/N), We’re almost done ok?! The baby will be here soon…”
My sister said still shocked as I gripped her hand in pain.
“I’m not fucking pregnant no way!”
I felt something move from inside me followed by what seemed to be clear water?!
“W-What was that!”
The baby is coming now I’ll need you to push on the count to three.
One
Two
Three
Now push!
I pushed still very confused at what was happening as we repeated the process many more times which I couldn’t tell what was going on.
Now Push!
I yelled feeling something after the nurse told me to push I did and felt something come out.
“It’s the head almost there!”
“Nurses get ready!”
I made a few more pushes noticing the blood everywhere feeling something skirmish down my legs.
“Last one you’re okay.”
“I pushed and heard the cries of an infant ..”
I took a glance barely concious and saw that the nurse held a small bloody crying infant in her arms.
Meanwhile
Osamu POV
Osamu was lost in though despite just winning the match with cross court shot.
“Babe! Congratulations you just won the game!”
He was snapped out of his daze a she kissed him on the lips.
“That’s my baby boo! Congratulations on wining the game!”
“T-Thanks..”
“Are ya ok?”
“U-Uh I’m fine now quit clinging is not like we’re dating..”
“Woah yer stuttering yer that in love with me!”
She kissed him again.
“Come on soon you’ll have to say yes to your fwb right?”
She grinned smiling.
“Maybe this will change your mind!”
“Hear this babe, I’m totally gonna win this year’s student award no more third or second place due to (Y/N) and her sister!”
He looked at her.
“What do ya mean by that?”
She grinned leaning in and whispered
“Did ya hear.”
She said looking straight at Osamu.
“According to my brother who works at the hospital.”
“(Y/N), just had a baby.”
(What?)
“Ya know what that means! With her and Katherine gone I’m gonna win the award this year.”
“A b-baby…”
He said shocked and confused letting go of his fwb’s hand.
“Osamu?”
“Uh I gotta go.”
He said quickly walking to the team while she looked at him walk away.
“What kinda reaction was that?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“You’re ok sis!”
My sister said in English while my mom stood next to me with a worried expression and a bit confused.
“W-What happened..”
“You just had a baby so just rest ok?”
My mom said patting my head.
“Take a good rest alright we’ll talk about this later when you can meet her..”
“No I didn’t have a baby! That thing isn’t mine!”
Before I could say anything else everything went black.
To Be Continued
If you want to be tagged feel free to let me know! Reblogs and comments are appreciated!
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……..
It’s okay | Osamu Miya x Reader x Suna Rintaro
Summary: Guys take care of you when your first drug experience is not good.
Warning: Drugs, obviously.
You regret coming to this stupid party. You regret having agreed to smoke that joint with friends, not with your classmates because true friends would not leave you alone in your state.
You are scared because you felt hot, but not in the horny sense but the sick sense as if you had a fever. You didn’t know if it was normal. Nor if the headache was normal, although you weren’t sure if that was to the music or the joint.
The only thing that was clear to you was that you didn’t want to be alone. But you didn’t want to talk to a stranger so you scoured the house looking for a familiar face. Nothing.
You started thinking about calling Kita, surely you would earn a scolding from your senpai because he had warned you not to hang out with those girls but you didn’t care. You needed someone’s security.
“Y / n!” A voice called out to you and you instantly turned to meet Osamu.
“Osamu!” you screamed and threw yourself to hug him, surprising him “I don’t feel good”
“What’s wrong with you?” Suna asked making you aware of his presence.
“I smoked joint and now my head hurts” you looked at them both with watery eyes “I also think I have a fever”
You weren’t even finished speaking and Osamu had already placed a hand on your forehead to check your temperature. He frowned when he saw that you were right.
That simple gesture was enough for Suna to open Uber and ask for a car.
“We’re leaving in ten minutes” she announced.
You started crying. Not because you didn’t want to leave but because you ruined your friends’ night. Once they could relax and you showed up to screw it up.
“Sorry to ruin your night” you sobbed looking at the floor.
“What are you talking about? I only came because Atsumu forced me. Thanks to you I have an excuse to go” said Osamu.
“But…
"This party is disgusting. You’re doing us a favor” Suna interrupted “Now stop whining, silly” I wipe your tears. But every time he got rid of one, a new one appears.
“I’m sorry, I can’t stop crying” you admitted feeling embarrassed that they saw you this way. You probably looked pathetic with a red nose and watery eyes. Your sight is so clouded by tears that you could no longer see clearly the rest of the boys. They were surprised, they had never seen you like this before, you didn’t even cry so much when one of Riseki’s serves hit you on the head.
“Okay, Y / n,” said Osamu hugging you and instantly hid your face in his chest “Why don’t you tell us about the new anime you’re watching?” He asked while stroking your hair.
“I don’t want to, I just want hugs” you reached out to grab Suna’s jacket and bring him in for the hug.
Suna was going to run away until she saw the look Osamu gave her. He stayed even though he felt uncomfortable but then enjoyed the warmth of the three of them. And he felt even better when you stopped crying. In the end, he didn’t want to get away from you when you had to leave because the car had already arrived.
They ended up deciding to go to Osamu’s house. Your headache disappeared after trying the first bite of onigiri that Osamu made and while they ate Suna she showed them funny tik toks making you almost choke. When they got to the pole, Suna started talking about secrets and gossip about his classmates.
“I have a secret,” you said drawing the attention of both “I love you guys” you kissed the cheek of both.
“Y / n, you’re so corny, a thank you was enough,” said Suna with flushed cheeks, just like Osamu.
“You don’t even have to thank us, any friend would take care of taking care of his friend,” the other boy said this time.
You smiled and nodded.
If you were brave enough, you would have clarified that when you said that you loved them, you were not saying it only because of what they had done for you today, but that you were seriously confessing your feelings.
It’s okay, at least you have them as friends. For now, you could settle for that.
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Guilty | Osamu Miya x Reader x Atsumu Miya
Summary: You are too familiar with the feeling of guilt….if you knew that you aren’t the only one.
Warning:Angst.
You never imagined that you would end up in love with Osamu. Not because you will hate him or he was unpleasant but because you didn’t imagine that you were going to end up feeling more than friendship for him.
You feel guilty for having a crush on Osamu. You shouldn’t have feelings for someone other than your boyfriend, much less your brother-in-law.
You feel guilty for spending more time at Onigiri Miya than at your own home. At first, you only went because Osamu did not want you to be alone when Atsumu was going to play but later you began to cancel plans with your friends to be with Osamu and help him with the premises.
“At this rate, I’ll have to start paying you,” Osamu said one day while you were helping him clean up after he had closed.
“Don’t be silly, I do it willingly” you smiled at him.
“I will feel bad for making you work without any pay”
“To clear your conscience, why don’t you pay me by watching a movie with me?”
You tried not to panic, you weren’t flirting, you just invited him to see a movie, you weren’t out of place …You wanted the earth to swallow you or someone beat you for your idiocy.
You expected Osamu to reject you. But to your surprise, he didn’t. Then you two ended up at his house and as if that were not enough ended up doing a marathon. Of course, you ended up asleep and of course, Osamu was a gentleman and he wouldn’t let you sleep on the couch so he carried you up to his room. Right at that moment, you had to wake up.
“Osamu?”
He couldn’t help but think that you looked cute trying to keep his eyes open.
“It’s okay, still sleeping”
“Am I not dreaming now?” you said confused.
“You don’t dream”
“I thought so because you are carrying me like you are a prince and I am a princess”
Your dream disappeared when you heard him laugh. You felt your heart race. You did not finish enjoying the moment because the guilt settled back in your head when remembering Atsumu.
The next day you two didn’t talk about it. Never did.
You feel guilty for getting jealous when a client flirted with Osamu. You haven’t right to be. You don’t even get so upset when you see thousands of girls fill in comments on Atsumu’s last photo at the gym.
“What is this?” you asked looking at the box Osamu had just put on the counter.
“Open it” you looked at him and he pushed the box in your direction.
“Why?” You looked at the chocolates in surprise.
“You seemed to have a bad day yesterday so I thought this would cheer you up”
“Thank you” you smiled and Osamu did not take long to imitate you.
This time you weren’t the only one to feel guilty. You felt guilty for worrying him and Osamu felt guilty for making homemade chocolates. That is supposed to be a boyfriend, not a brother-in-law.
You feel guilty for feeling more excited when Osamu sent you a message instead of waiting excitedly for Atsumu to call you. And Osamu felt guilty for looking for any excuse to talk to you.
You feel guilty for not scoring excited every day until you see Atsumu again. You are nervous to see it, every day that passes you feel a horrible weight on your shoulders. And you are not the only one. Osamu shouldn’t wish for Atsumu to take a few more days to return.
You feel guilty when Atsumu comes home because you didn’t know how to look him in the eye without wishing that whoever was next to you was his twin. While Osamu feels guilty for wanting to be Atsumu every time the two enter the restaurant hand in hand.
At this point, you were only still with the blonde because you knew that once you are done with him you will lose contact with Osamu. You are a horrible person because Atsumu did not deserve this, he deserved someone who truly loved him and you were not going to deprive him of that just because of your selfishness. So you decided to break up with him.
“Not!” Atsumu said horrified making you feel worse “If it’s because he spent a lot of time practicing I swear I’ll change, I’ll make more time for us, I’ll take you on dates”
“Atsumu, stop, please,” you asked “Volleyball is not the problem. You are not the problem, you do not have to change anything “
"Then what is? I am sure that whatever it is we can solve it ”I take your hands.
You wanted to hit yourself when you saw how Atsumu was trying not to cry. If you had known that they ended up causing Atsumu so much pain then you would never have agreed to be his girlfriend. You never imagined that things would end like this.
"It’s me” you let go of his hands and hugged yourself to prevent him from grabbing them again.
“What are you talking about?”
“The best thing for both of us, for you, is that we break up” you continued as if you hadn’t heard him, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.
“Y / n, don’t avoid the question. What’s the problem? ”He interrupted.
You knew that Atsumu deserved an explanation because everything seemed to look good and out of nowhere you want to break up with him. But you couldn’t tell him that you were in love with Osamu. You didn’t want him to fight his brother because of you.
“I’m not in love with you anymore. I’m sorry” you answered with a broken voice “But I still love you ”
“It’s a joke?” you flinched when you heard the tone that the blonde used. “Are you saying that you are no longer in love with me but that you love me? It is contradictory “
“I love you but not like a couple loves their partner. Even if we break up I’m going to keep worrying about you, Atsumu. I want you to be happy that’s why I break up with you. Atsumu, wait! ” You started to panic when you saw how he was about to leave the apartment. “Don’t go!” You took him by the shoulder, you were afraid of what could happen to him leaving so late.
“Leave me alone” he snapped out of your grip and left.
You bit your lip hard trying to hold back your urge to cry. You shouldn’t cry after all you were the one to blame.
What are we
tags:; osamu x reader, childhood friends, suggestive, atsumu being annoying, commitment issues, cute ending, mentions of food, cuddling, mentions of exs
wc: 656
You were hanging out on the couch with Osamu at the Miya house like you usually did. This time you two were watching a movie with you laying on top of Osamu snuggled into his chest after school.
You were half asleep with the furnace of a man under you rubbing your back to sleep.
Osamu and you were complicated. You two had been friends since middle school but about 2 months ago it grew into something else. Hugging and kissing turned into more but the discussion had not been had.
You two were fooling around and you refused to let yourself assume the nature of your relationship.
Friends with benefits is what most fits the situation. But friends didn’t rub each other’s backs to sleep as they cuddled. You didn’t let yourself hope or assume you’ve been burned by guys too many times in the past.
Sex only complicated things but it wasn’t like you two were planning on stopping anytime soon.
Half asleep staring at the screen with blurred eyes you heard feet bounding down the stairs. You tried to pull yourself up at the sight of Atsumu’s feet but you weren’t quick enough.
Atsumu stopped at the base of the stairs and squinted at you scrambling off of Osamu.
“What’s going on here?”
“Nothing.” You said a bit too quickly tucking your hair behind your ears feeling Osamu’s eyes on you but not saying anything.
“Hm doesn’t seem like nothing, y/n. Seems like you two are dating and keeping it a secret.” He slyly smiled. Atsumu knew how to push your buttons.
The night before Osamu and him had dinner and you came up as a topic.
“I’ve noticed you and y/n are getting closer,” Atsumu said wiggling his eyebrows to annoy his brother.
Osamu just stared at him, “Why are you doing that with your face.”
Atsumu dropped his eyebrows, “You know why. So are you two together?”
Osamu sighed, “I want to ask but I know y/n is too scared to say yes because of her exs.”
“Her exs?”
“They all agreed to be with her then once they cheated they would make the relationship not seem serious. Now she cringes at the word.” Osamu explained
Atsumu nodded his head, “Oh yeah what was that last guy’s name?”
“Ren.” Osamu picked at his food in thought. He wanted to ask but you were like a stray cat, one wrong move and you were out the door. He knew he would have to bite the bullet sometime, this limbo both of you were in wouldn’t last and he didn’t want to let you go.
“We aren’t dating Atsumu, you know we’re just friends,” you said. It wasn’t a lie just not the complete truth.
Osamu’s eyes could burn a hole into your skull at your words.
“Osamu she’s not your girlfriend?” Atsumu asked him with a smug smile staring at his twin.
“I mean not no-“
You shot your eyebrows up, “Uh nope no we are not. We are friends.”
Osamu laughed pushing back his gray hair. “You’re telling me all your friends put their face under your skir-“
You slapped a hand over his mouth feeling your face get hot.
“Shut up!”
Atsumu laughed, “What the fuck is wrong with both of you.” Turning back upstairs. It was obvious he came downstairs to mess with the two of you. His job was done.
Osamu raised his eyebrows and moved your hand from his mouth, kissing your wrist.
“Why did you have to say that Samu.” You groaned.
He shrugged, “I mean I thought you knew we were together, it’s pretty obvious.”
“You never asked…”
“Okay, y/n do you want to be my girlfriend?”
Your immediate reaction was to say no. To run and not come back because putting a label on things only made things scary and you’ve been burned before. But Samu was different, he was the nicest guy you knew and you two had been friends for years before this. If you were to give anyone a chance he would be the most deserving right? Plus he is great in bed.
“Yes, Samu I do.”
“Good baby let me make you some food.”
