Hey! Just Came To Say That Im Obsessed With How You Draw Castiel, The Drawings Are Soooooo Good You Are

new light novel illustration by Furudate!

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?"

🍙

The fallen angel, Castiel

My first time making an animated illustration! Also I have this drawing available as prints on my redbubble shop 😋

Since the gif ate my quality a little here’s some non-gif versions:

You got it all wrong

Character: Miya Osamu x GN reader, Miya Atsumu & GN reader Genre: childhood enemies to lovers, idiots in love, miya atsumu has had enough of yer bullshit, best friend atsumu, suggestive themes A/N: osamu fluff, come get yer osamu fluff! GN reader!

“W-where are ya going?” He pushes down on your shoulders when you try to stand. “I’m going home because I’ve got early practice tomorrow. You are gonna stay here and sort yer shit out because frankly it’s disturbin’ having to watch ya eye fuck ma brother every time we come here-“ “It’s not every time!" "It's definitely every time"

Ever since you were young you and Osamu had been in a weird love-hate relationship. It had all started the afternoon you declared Atsumu to be your favourite twin. Even then Osamu had simply shrugged with his face neutral, exercising great control for a 9 year old, but it obviously got to him because he spent the next 14 years teasing you. As children it had begun with the typical stuff; hair pulling, hiding your favourite pens and stickers, stealing food from your bento when you weren’t looking, jumping out at you from around corners. Into adolescence he stopped the physical irritants and turned to relentless bickering and insults that carefully never crossed the line.

You weren’t sure at what point that your feelings of annoyance toward him changed to feelings of wanting, but it was overwhelming how drawn to him you were.

“Could you two jus’ hurry up and fuck?” Atsumu huffs as he observes you, leaning back in his seat across from you. You snort at his vulgarity, cheek resting against your propped up hand. “I’m trying,” you mutter solemnly.

He bites into his onigiri with a raised eyebrow that reads ‘are you serious?’ and you poke out your tongue petulantly in response.

“Starin' holes into his back is not trying,” he smirks. “Yer such a coward”. Leaning over the restaurant table you lightly smack him upside his head to shut him up, but you knew he was right.

Osamu has always been pretty observant and aware of those around him, or at least you always thought he was. Perhaps his volleyball skills did not translate to real life interactions with other people. Because you had been very obviously flirting with him since you got here and he hasn’t cracked once.

Maybe he noticed and doesn’t reciprocate so he’s not acknowledging it. Maybe he noticed but he’s teasing you. Maybe he really is dense.

Surely not, you think, as he rolls his work sleeves up his thick forearms. No. This is definitely on purpose.

“Do ya blame me? He barely even tolerates me,” you mumble, picking at the rice ball in your hand. Even now as adults your relationship with Osamu hadn’t evolved much, he still took pleasure in winding you up and poking fun at you and you never really spent time alone with him without his brother present. There really was no indication that he reciprocated you romantic feelings.

“Why do you think he puts so much effort in to gettin’ a reaction out of ya?” Atsumu muses, genuinely curious of your answer. In his mind you were both as blind as the other, and frankly he was getting sick of having to sit back and watch the two of you dance around each other.

Gaze unmoving you watch another customer come in and press their chest up against the front counter, batting their eyelashes at the attractive young restaurant owner. When it's anyone but you he's obviously aware when he's being flirted with.

Atsumu clicks his fingers in front of your face after a few moments of you ignoring his question, startling you. "Oi, would ya stop starin' and listen to me? He's not going anywhere you know, he works here".

Narrowing your eyes you slump back into your side of the booth with reluctance, anxious about what was going on on the other side of the room. "Fine, am listening," you tut, tongue clicking against your teeth.

"Just hear me out, and a know you might think it's ridiculous but it's the truth," Atsumu declares, crossing his arms together in a theatrical show of 'seriousness'. You mentally prepare yourself.

"Osamu is jealous," he hypothesises. "He is jealous of me".

"You're right," you scoff, shovelling the rest of your food in to your mouth, "that is ridiculous". Your best friend rolls his eyes so hard in response his head hits the back of his chair.

"He's jealous because I get all yer attention and the only way he'll ever have it is if he messes with ya," Atsumu explains with a proud expression, as if he had cracked a nuclear code. "Now because you've both been at it so long he has no clue how to pursue an actual relationship wit' ya' so he just sticks to what's familiar".

“Since when were you an expert in psychology?” You ask mockingly, too scared to take his analysis as truth. If he was wrong and Osamu truly didn’t like you then confessing to him would only lead to an incredibly uncomfortable situation for all three of you.

“Whatever,” Tsumu huffs, licking the flavour from each of his fingers after finishing his final onigiri. “If ya don’t believe me then I think ya should just ask him if he really dislikes you. Cause I know you’ve never hated him even when we were kids but still, ya provoked him”.

Mouth agape, you watch him rise from where he’s sitting and pull on his jacket. “W-where are ya going?”

He pushes down on your shoulders when you try to stand. “I’m going home because I’ve got early practice tomorrow. You are gonna stay here and sort yer shit out because frankly it’s disturbin’ having to watch ya eye fuck ma brother every time we come here-“

“It’s not every time!”

"It's definitely every time," he reaffirms impatiently. He takes in your anxious expression and sighs, running a hand through his dyed platinum hair.

“Look, yer one of my favourite people. Do ya really think that I’d leave ya here and encourage ya to do this if I knew he’d just reject ya?”

You shake your head no. You know that underneath his sarcastic hard headed exterior, Atsumu is an overwhelmingly caring and attentive person. You trusted him with anything and everything and you knew deep down that he wouldn’t put you in a situation that would leave you hurt.

Even if Osamu did reject you, Atsumu was atleast certain that his brother did not hate you and you could live with that.

Your best friend leaves you with a light flick to the forehead and calls out to his brother that he’s going home. Exhaling shakily you scan the room and study the few people left sitting at their tables. It was very nearly time for Osamu to close up.

You fiddle uncomfortably with your remaining onigiri, debating whether or not you should just make a run for it. Even if you were to let this discussion happen you weren’t sure that you wanted it to happen here.

Amid the quiet atmosphere of onigiri miya you sit internally scrutinising any and all of the interactions you’d had with Osamu, the ones you could remember anyway. Truthfully you never did detect any kind of malice from the dark haired twin, and he had never said anything sincerely hurtful to you. Maybe Atsumu was right.

You jump when a familiar hand comes in to view, placing another 'giri in your dish. Peaking up at Osamu you find yourself glaring suspiciously out of habit, wondering what his motives were behind his actions.

He snorts a laugh at your familiar expression, black work cap covering his eyes. “Ya know, sometimes I just want to be generous without any evil hidden agenda,” he teases.

Typically you would send an equally sarcastic comment back to him but today your best friends words bounce around your mind vigorously, attempting to attach to anything Osamu says as proof that it’s true.

“I’ll see it when I believe it,” he suddenly mocks, imitating your voice. You stare at him, affronted.

“Sorry but I’m a bit weirded out by yer lack of response so I’m just filling in the gaps here,” he jokes as he pulls out the seat next to you.

Taking in his tired appearance, you recall the day you’d admitted to Atsumu that you had feelings for his brother. Straight away he had asked if you also found him attractive, to his relief your immediate answer was no, but that was still something many people wondered after you told them.

The truth is, to you Osamu and Atsumu look completely different. A persons outward appearance isn’t the only thing that makes them, well, themselves. Osamu and Atsumu may have the same face, minus the current hair colour, but they have complete opposite mannerisms, senses of humour, facial expressions, body language, voices, likes and dislikes. It’s all of those things that add up and create an attraction to someone.

You loved Atsumu as a brother but you had not once found yourself attracted to him the way you were attracted to 'Samu.

“Ya in there? Do I have to be worried?” 'Samu pulls you back to reality, squeezing your cheek between his thumb and index finger. Blinking into focus you bat his hand away and pout, plucking the new warm onigiri from your plate and taking a bite.

To your surprise it is your favourite flavour, and freshly made. Usually Samu’ stuck to his menu pretty strictly and this was not on there, which meant he had made it for you specifically.

‘Is’ good,” you say, words muffled by the food in your mouth. Osamu gives a small grin in response, tilting his head forward to hide his expression with the tongue of his cap.

“And, m’alright. Thanks for asking. Just got a bit lost in my head there,” you admit shyly, hoping he’ll look you in the eye so you can see what he might truly be trying to tell you. He doesn't.

“Was surprised that you were still here, thought you’d leave with ma brother”.

“Nah, he scurried off somewhere with an excuse about practice but am pretty sure he’s seeing someone new,” you share. He shoots you a curious, but cautious expression.

“Doesn’t that bother ya? Since ya like him and all,” he stammers, appearing to be very weary of your reaction. As if he’s truly expecting you to be upset.

He was not ready for you to burst into fits of laughter.

“Jesus, no, ‘Samu. Sure he’s got a pretty face but I don’t like ya brother, not in a million years. He’s told me far too much about his bowel movements and his sexual fantasies for that to ever happen,” you snivel, voice trailing off into a quiet giggle.

Once he’s processed the realisation that this entire time you haven’t actually been pining for his brother, he latches on to the first part of your statement. “Ya think I’ve got a pretty face huh?”

Not even bothering to deny it, still amused by the fact that he’d had entirely the wrong idea this whole time, you simply hum in agreement. “Might just be one of the only things ya have going for ya, ‘Samu”.

The teasing was familiar ground and thus it relieves the tension in his shoulders slightly. “So a man with a pretty face, his own business and good cooking skills isn’t enough for ya?”

You might be starting to understand where ‘Tsumu was coming from when he complained about you and ‘Samu flirting. Restaurant now void of customers it was just the two of you, testing the waters and scrutinising each other’s reactions.

“Does this dream man also happen to be 6’3?” You ask dryly, eyes widening when a pink stripe paints itself across Osamus cheeks.

A few moments of silence pass.

“Why’d ya pick him as ya favourite?” He finally probes, dodging your question.

“Oh my god,” you groan, “you’re still holding that over me?”

“Ain’t nice to pick and choose favourites,” he taunts. “I’m just curious”.

“I guess it’s because you tried too hard ta’ be nice,” you explain with a small shrug, wringing your hands together. “You were known as the better twin, the friendly twin, but I saw right through ya. Ya were always instigating fights, startin’ trouble, breaking stuff, an’ poor Tsumu took the fall for ya every time. Sure he was an ass and still is but at least he was honest about it. Guess I wanted to provoke you in to showing your true colours”.

“An I proved ya right by continuing to be an ass for over a decade,” he chuckles self depreciatively, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You frown, knocking your shoulders together playfully. “Ya weren’t that bad. It was fun, wasn’t it?”

His eyes glint and narrow under the helpless grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah,” he murmurs under his breath as he gazes down at you with such fondness it makes your chest tight. “It was”.

The air seems thinner after that, and you can’t look away from each other. Nervously you wet your bottom lip and watch him follow the movement of your tongue. You remember what you’d promised Atsumu.

“Did you ever actually hate me, ‘Samu?”

Inching closer to you he cautiously cups his hand against your jaw, pleased when you don’t flinch away from him. His fingers delicately graze the apple of your cheek.

“S’impossible to hate you,” he admits earnestly. “Just wanted ya to look at me more, is all”.

“You’re an idiot,” you breathe, overwhelmed by the warmth radiating from him and the smell of his cologne washing over you. In quiet amazement he glides his thumb along your bottom lip, inhaling sharply when your mouth falls open. Slowly he leans toward you, eyes half lidded in want.

“Excuse me, are you still open?”

You jolt away from each other abruptly at the sudden intrusion, turning to see a couple standing sheepishly at the entrance. Osamu, to your disappointment, gets to his feet and approaches them to bow politely.

“Sorry to tell ya but we closed about five minutes ago. My fault, I shoulda put the sign up”.

The two look so embarrassed to have walked in on your intimate moment, and even from this distance you can see that Osamus ears have taken on a bright red hue. Covering the sound of your laughter with your hands, not wanting to humiliate anyone any further, you watch as they scurry out and ‘Samu quickly locks the door behind them.

“Can hear ya laughing over there!” He growls, flipping the switch for the shutters to come down. Thankfully the loud harsh metal sound covers your spluttering.

He approaches you again, this time with a bashful expression and his hand open for you to take. ‘Come on, I’ll drive ya home”.

Accepting his offer you push your fingers into the spaces between his own and press your palms together. You guess you’ll have to kiss him when he walks you to your door.

Cas wears fun socks all the time actually, we just never see them (because of cw censorship)

Them

Now a little bit of color

100 WAYS. ¹

PAIRING | miya osamu x fem!reader

GENRE | angst, fluff, smut (18+)

WARNINGS | TIME SKIP MANGA SPOILERS + NSFW! minors dni. this part: toxic relationship and behavior, growing up not being loved by family, cursing, very slight body shaming, etc. next part(s): penetration, protected sex, oral (f & m receiving), praising, osamu flirting with you right in front your fiancé, suggestive? food play? exhibitionism (in car & restaurant), mild pet names like ‘brat,’ teasing, very light degradation, overstimulation, etc.

DISCLAIMER | this part does not contain smut, however the following parts will which makes this mini-series have smut in general. do not ignore warnings.

WORD COUNT | this part: 5.5k

SUMMARY | in which the moment you walked into "onigiri miya" with your arranged fiancé, you realized your taste in men could be a lot better. and miya osamu, the owner of the restaurant, was willing to change that. treat you just right and on the house, of course. especially since the moment you entered the restaurant, he wants to see you come again.

BONUS | i recently reread the timeskip chapters, (s)creamed at osamu's panels uhm, and wrote this based off 100 ways by austin hull. muy sexy song if i might add </3

PART ONE [ 1/4 ] | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR

YOU FELT NOTHING AS THE MAN TUGGED YOU INSIDE THE RESTAURANT HARSHLY BY THE HAND, your hair half-soaked and coat damp. It was as if this night just couldn’t get any worse. This was supposed to be a date night that was not only ruined by the weather’s inconvenience but also the fact your date decided to run late again due to a business overtime meeting.

“Shit,” The man cursed under his breath as he padded down the droplets of water from his top. “Couldn’t you have brought an umbrella? This suit was expensive, you know.”

“I didn’t know it was gonna rain,” You mumbled, carding your fingers through your wet hair and trying to make it look somewhat presentable, padding your hands on your coat.

“Whatever, let’s just get this date over with,” He grumbled under his breath, grabbing your hand and trying to find a table to sit at. “I’d rather be anywhere else than with you.”

Ouch.

You were to marry this man who had no love or remorse for the sharp actions and words he throws at you. You were to marry this man who couldn’t at least give you the time of day and pretend to love you. You were to marry this man against your will because you couldn’t find love fast enough. For your rich family, that is.

You came from a family of money and business, and you never felt true affection or care or sometimes even love from them. Everything seemed to be for money for them all. And you felt nothing from him. Regardless if it was arranged, you would have hoped he’d come to love you and you, him.

But that never happened. He was just as heartless as them. And just as stuck up. Of all the ways you could find love, an arranged marriage just wasn’t one. But you didn’t stand the idea of disappointing your family, therefore you agreed and have regretted it deeply since.

You ignored his last comment and looked around for a table to sit at while he dramatically tried to compose himself. A hostess who was at the front of the restaurant asked if you’d like a table for two, you nodded weakly and followed her, ushering for your fiancé to follow you and not just stand there.

You thanked the hostess as she gave you two menus and sat down with your fiancé, not paying him a glance, and looked straight at the menu. He grunted and grabbed his menu, skimming through it with disinterest.

“Why’d you pick this restaurant?” He raised a brow as he looked through the menu. “Looks cheap if you ask me.”

“I have a friend who recommended it,” You stated weakly, lying. “And it has really good reviews.”

“Let’s just hope it’s decent, I’m not here to waste my time on shit food—!”

“Hello!” A voice from behind his seat interrupted, causing you to look up and meet the kind eyes with a small notebook in hand. “Welcome to Onigiri Miya! I’m Osamu. Can I take yer order?”

“Hi! Um—!” You opened your mouth, lightly stuttering, to greet the man and unfortunately getting cut off short.

“No, can’t you see we’re still looking?” Your fiancé interrupted you harshly, taking the waiter by surprise.

You’re to marry a man with no manners.

“S-Sorry,” You stuttered, gulping and giving the man standing a weak smile. “What he meant was we just came in. So maybe a few more minutes, if that’s okay?”

“Oh alright, no worries,” Osamu smiled back at you, eyes crinkling as he retreated, ignoring the rude tone your fiancé grumbled. “Let me know when yer ready to order then!”

“Thank you... Osamu,” You gave him another weak smile as he walked away, immediately fading when you met your fiancé’s annoyed expression at the fact you stated his first name as if he wasn’t a stranger.

“First name basis with a stranger? Pathetic,” He muttered under his breath, flipping through the menu.

“I know you’re forced to be here. Trust me, I’d also rather be anywhere than with you. But it wouldn’t kill you to be nice, especially since that waiter was being nice,” You stated with annoyance in your features, causing him to scoff and turn back to the menu in his hands.

In all honesty, you chose this place to dine at because you’ve happened to walk by it a couple of times when getting back from work. By yourself. You’d been walking past it for a couple of months, but never actually came in to try it. It looked popular and busy on the daily, so it must mean the food is good.

So today was the day you walked by it in the afternoon and decided it would be nice to go for dinner here. If you’re going to be forced to date a man you hate, at least have some good food while doing it. And for some reason, you felt like it would be a good choice.

“Whatever, it’s his job to be nice,” He scoffed, putting the menu down. “Are you ready to order?”

“Not yet,” You stated softly as you looked over the menu. You were actually starving, and you weren’t sure if only one thing on the menu would satisfy you. Your eyes danced over the options that sounded delicious and picked out what you were going to order.

“Hurry it up, I have to get home so I can finish up the paperwork for tomorrow’s promotional video,” He rolls his eyes, adjusting his coat. “Advertising shit for even shittier volleyball players takes up half my time, aside from wasting moments like this.”

“Okay, I’m ready,” You looked up from the menu, choosing to ignore his final sentence. He really has no filter, even in public. If anyone’s the piece of shit here, it’s him.

He motioned carelessly for Osamu as he had just finished handing an order for customers in the back. He waved back, saying he’ll be right there.

“I don’t get why you complain so much,” You rolled your eyes. “If you hate working there so much, then quit.”

“Quit? You still don’t get it?” He scoffed. “I actually have to work hard to provide for the both of us when we’re married, you’re the one complaining here, woman. Not understanding how men have to work hard to provide for you women.”

“I don’t need you to provide anything for me. I have a perfectly stable income, I don’t need you,” You state bitterly, quietly as you see Osamu approach the table with his small notebook.

“Then why are you marrying me, huh?” He mocked, chuckling. “Stable income, my ass. Having rich parents isn’t a stable income. They’ll cut you off one day. Why’d you think they chose me? I’m successful, and you’re not.”

This statement was unlike any of the harsh remarks he’s thrown at you. His words stung because of his power dynamic and clearly sexist standards in the arranged relationship. It hurt because part of it was true, you had relied on your parents up until now— when you’re supposed to marry a self-centered bastard with an ego so far up his ass he doesn’t even know how to properly talk to a woman. With manners. It hurt because you couldn’t answer why you married him.

You agreed to marry him to at least show some form of gratitude to your parents. As if it’s the price you pay, a price owed for raising you in a nice home with things that were shiner than everyone else’s. But you’d always had a modest and kind heart that was never affected by the money. But the money had got to their heads, and clearly, to this bastard that you’re supposed to marry.

You’d like to say you’re successful in your own way. Despite working for your father’s company just because he’s your father as if you can’t find another job of your own. You’d like to say you’re successful because despite the emotional damage they’ve put you through, you stay standing. And you felt like a part of you was weak, when in reality you weren’t. You were strong and you just needed someone to help you see that aside from yourself.

“What will ya be havin’ today?” Osamu approached your table with a smile once more, and for some reason, his presence alone helped ease your emotions and the tension you’d been trying to rid of all night.

“I’ll just have curry and the deep-fried Basa rice, no drink on that,” Your fiancé stated in a bored expression, handing Osamu the menu in an almost aggressive manner. Osamu raised a brow before nodding and turning to look at you.

You bit your lip as you wondered whether or not you should just order the amount you originally wanted. It’s just that everything looked so good on the menu and you just couldn’t choose! You were starving. And the food around you smelled appetizing and absolutely ravishing. Besides, you could always take whatever leftovers remain to-go and you could eat it at home later.

“Um,” You smiled shyly before putting the menu on the table, ready to list out what you’d like to order. “I’d like to order some pork Katsu rice with cream of corn crab soup. As well as fried tuna dumplings and your onigiri special. With Jasmine tea.”

Osamu was about to nod with a soft smile and ask if you’d like anything else before your fiancé burst out laughing in a quiet tone, but can still be heard if people were looking.

“You’re gonna eat all of that?” He chuckled in a preposterously loud tone, causing your smile to fall. “By yourself? No wonder that dress fits you less than it did before.”

You were fuming, you were practically ready to stand on the balls of your feet and turn your heels and walk the fuck out, and never see him again. But how come pride, in the most awful sense, causes you to try and chuckle awkwardly— pretending to laugh along with the venomous words.

You failed to make it sound genuine, though, as Osamu’s smile fell. He didn’t even know you, but his fists clenched as he saw how you pretended to find the harsh words funny.

“You can order whatever ya’d like, sweetheart,” Osamu stated, smiling and causing your fiancé to stop laughing all of a sudden, turning towards Osamu with eyes widened with rage bubbling in them.

You blushed at the kind nickname Osamu referred to you as, encouraging you to order to your heart’s desire.

“Oi! That’s my fiancé, don’t call her that,” Your fiancé spit, eyes widening when Osamu completely ignores him and shoots you a kind smile, once more. Especially softening when you smile back in gratitude. He could tell this wasn’t a position you’d rather be in.

You’re to marry this son of a bitch? Just who were you to allow an average-looking man to talk to you, absolutely beautiful and innocently sweet? Surely, you must know your worth. There was more than that to you. You’d have to have a reason to marry a dickhead like that and let him speak to you that way.

It was a moment that caused you to pique Osamu’s interest and curiosity from now on.

“Can I get ya anything else?” Osamu brought up, ignoring your fiancé’s shocked expression, smiling at you when you smiled back shyly in gratitude.

“N-No, that’s all,” You grinned, shaking your head. “Thank you.”

“No problem, I’ll be out with yer order soon!” Osamu waved and walked back to the counter, handing your order list to the cooks in the back.

“Can you believe that guy?” Your fiancé grumbled, turning to you and crossing his arms over his chest. “Absolutely disrespectful. I might just have to speak to the manager about him.”

You ignored his statement as you looked past the line of cooks and at the boy with the cap, talking to the rest of the staff with a kind smile. Osamu, huh?

Thank you, Osamu.

You basically sat in awkward silence, which didn’t faze your fiancé at all since he clearly was preoccupying his time by sending business emails or texting other people on his phone. Rather than talk to you, at the very least.

He’s not even trying. Not bothering to in the slightest.

You look up when an overwhelming scent of the hot soup you ordered fills your senses, watching Osamu approach your table with both your and your fiancé’s orders on a large platter with one hand, placing your hot tea down on your table with the other.

“Alright! Curry with deep-fried Basa rice,” He said, placing the meal your fiancé ordered and turning to you with a smile, eyes crinkling once more. “And pork Katsu rice, cream of corn soup with crab, fried tuna dumplings, and onigiri with Jasmine tea for the pretty lady.”

Your face flushed in pink and your lips parted, shyly, at the little compliment Osamu called you as he dipped his head closer to yours, placing your orders at your side, and looking up; from under the cap he was wearing, meeting your eyes with a smile that looked daring and kind all at once. His gaze in yours allowed your heart to race as if he was looking at you with an intensity that meant to say something after he said Pretty. Did you even look pretty with your hair messed up from the rain? You thought, shaking your head mentally, ready to thank Osamu when your fiancé just had to act out again.

“Enjoy yer meal—!”

“Pretty girl? Seriously? You don’t take your job seriously, man?” Your fiancé retorted, looking at Osamu with annoyance. “Flirting with my woman in front of me?”

“I do take my job seriously sir,” Osamu blankly stated, still looking into your eyes, not bothering to spare him a glance. “I also suggest lowering yer voice, ‘cause ya don’t wanna disturb my other customers.”

Your fiancé’s mouth was agape at Osamu’s words. You resisted the urge to chuckle at his shocked face.

“Your customers?! Just who do you think you are—!” Your fiancé paused, looking at Osamu more closely and his eyes widening, expressions flooding with some kind of realization. “Wait a damn minute, you look oddly familiar…”

“Enjoy the food!” Osamu exclaimed, ignoring him once more, and turning back to you with a smile. “Let me know if I can get ya anything else, hm?”

“Yeah yeah,” Your fiancé grumbled as if Osamu was speaking to him. You were slightly taken back when Osamu shot you a quick wink before walking away. Nodding when he was out of sight.

“Can you believe that guy? I will definitely speak to his manager after this, flirting with you right in front of me.”

“You’re the one who insulted me in front of him,” You scoffed, taking your fork out of the rolled napkin.

“Oh, so you’re gonna let some minimum-wage paid waiter defend you? How low, even for you!” Your fiancé chuckled, mocking your tone.

You almost felt your eyes swell with tears, but you chose to just close your mouth with a neutral expression that felt nothing. Even the slightest heartbeat from hearing a kind and handsome waiter

Unbeknownst to you, the blue eyes stared softly at your sad expression from across the restaurant.

You thanked the gods for the silence that followed as soon as you dug in. You hoped that even the man you’re out on a date with couldn’t ruin the taste and exploding flavor from the dishes you ordered.

You hummed in content as you devoured the onigiri in bigger bites than usual, savoring the taste as you paired it with the creamy crab soup. You couldn’t help but feel joy at the ravishing dishes this restaurant had to offer. Perhaps it was the fact that at least the waiter of this restaurant was the only man that was kind to you tonight— or that the onigiri had its own signature flavor, being the restaurant’s pride and joy. You had already eaten the fried tuna dumplings and your rice, saving the best for last. The floral taste of the jasmine tea adds to the heavenly taste. You couldn’t help but feel like if his gentle touch handing you the food might have added to the sweetness of it all.

“Could you eat any more?” Your fiancé scowls in disgust. “Might as well order the whole menu while you’re at it!”

He laughed at his own harsh words, thinking he’s funny with his jokes. His words caused you to experience a sinking feeling in your stomach, dropping your spoon back into the half-full soup bowl, sinking into the creamy delight. And you were just starting to enjoy everything you thought this night would have in store for you. He couldn’t let you fucking live, for fuck’s sake. Though no one is laughing, certainly not you and certainly not the boy with a scrunched up and pissed off expression hooded under the cap he was wearing who just managed to hear what your fiancé said as he approached your table.

Osamu wanted to say something and pour the hot kettle of Jasmine tea over his filthy head that he thought he’d come over to you to refill if you’d like. The kettle shook in his hand, he was seriously debating it.

Instead, he chose to walk past your fiancé and stand in front of you, hiding your view from him.

“Would ya like a refill on the tea, sweetheart?” Osamu asked softly, looking at your empty cup of tea.

It would be nice…

“Oh, I-I’m good. Thank you, though—!” You smiled weakly with a faint blush at the nickname he called you again, shaking your hand but, once again, getting cut short.

“OI!” Your fiancé exclaimed, catching the attention of the table next to yours. “I thought I told you to quit with that. Have you no manners?”

“I’m afraid I should be asking you that,” Osamu stood up straight by your side, dark eyes boring into your fiancé’s. “Is that any way to talk to a woman?”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You didn’t want him to cause a scene. Please. Anything but a scene in public. You couldn’t take it anymore. You just wanted some good food and to go home. You didn’t want shit to worsen your night than it already had.

“Who the hell are you to tell me how to talk to a woman!?” Your fiancé yelled, causing even people in the back to turn and look at your trouble, you looked down in embarrassment, just praying for him to shut the fuck up.

“A man with decent manners…?” Osamu raised a brow as he nodded his head towards you, causing your fiancé to scoff. “Can’t ya see she’s tired of yer bullshit?”

“Bullshit?!” Your fiancé exclaimed in bewilderment.

“Yeah,” Osamu leaned forward, smirking, causing your eyes to widen and oddly for you to rub your thighs under the material of your dress together. “Everythin’ ya said was bullshit. Yer out with a real beauty at this ‘cheap’ restaurant, and ya don’t even have the fuckin’ balls to talk to her like a real man.”

Osamu seemed to have heard everything. He was so far away at some of these moments, how could he have heard?

“Who are you talking to me about my own relationship? I’m a rich and successful man around here. And I could very well sue this establishment!”

“Oh really? Because the shit ya said tonight doesn’t even make ya a man,” Osamu chuckled, both eyebrows raised in amusement. Your eyes widen at the comments Osamu keeps retorting, you were fighting the urge to laugh along with him, but you could only blush under the many eyes of this restaurant now staring at the loud commotion your fiancé is making. “Can’t expect me to take the shit comin’ out of yer mouth seriously.”

Your fiancé scrunched his brows together both in frustration and question. It was like he’s trying to figure out who Osamu was. He looked up and his eyes widened in realization.

“You’re Miya Atsumu’s twin brother!” Your fiancé pointed out, chuckling awkwardly. “I sincerely apologize for the way I treated this establishment as it’s in his name. I work for the Japanese Volleyball Association and Sports Promotion Division. I worked with Atsumu once on an advertisement. Forgive my words, if I hadn’t known—!”

Osamu raised a brow and chuckled darkly as he crossed his arms over his chest. You sat next to his standing figure feeling as if you couldn’t do anything to shut that man up. But Osamu was just thinking about how you could be with someone as fake and pathetic as him.

Exactly what does this man offer to you for you to stay through toxic shit like that? What does this man offer to you, that Osamu could offer over a hundred ways more than to make you happy? To make you feel so good about yourself in every which way that’ll leave you seeing stars from euphoria. Osamu could only scoff at the fact this man even exists to hurt you. No woman, especially a woman so mesmerizing in beauty and adorning features, kind and as humble as you should ever be treated like that. And he was willing to prove that. Even if you were a stranger he met only an hour ago.

“What does my brother have to do with the way you’re treatin’ this place like it’s below you? Or the way yer talkin’ to her?” Osamu laughed at your fiancé’s pathetic response. Your fiancé was taken back by his response, expecting something else.

“I just mean your brother is an important and outstanding athletic figure in Japan, it’s awfully tasteless of me to speak to any person working at his establishment in this way, Osamu-san.”

“Oh-ho? Ya switchin’ up that quick just ‘cause of my brother, sir?” Osamu raised a brow, fighting the urge to laugh again but choosing against it. Instead, choosing to humiliate him. “And on a first-name basis with a stranger? How pathetic.”

Your fiancé’s eyes widened once more, rage evident on his features, he looked about ready to swing his arm at Osamu, if it weren’t for his co-worker stepping in suddenly between his standing figure and your fiancé’s. You could only find yourself subconsciously smiling at Osamu’s words with a faint blush and light tears staining your cheeks.

It hurt that no one had ever been this kind and sweet to you without expecting much back. It hurts that a mere stranger you met only an hour ago at a local restaurant has shown you more affection than anyone had in your entire life. A stranger who turned the night around by making you feel better about yourself than when you had walked in. A stranger who practically spelled out for you through the dishes he served, that you should strive to find better taste in the little things in life.

And that includes the bastard you were seriously going to marry, causing a commotion at what was supposed to be a calm and normal date.

“Something the matter, sir? Customers are complaining,” Osamu’s co-worker walked up to your table. Osamu turned and smiled at his co-worker.

“Unfortunately, yeah. There is somethin’ wrong with this man.” Osamu laughed, turning to face your fiancé. “Nothin’ we can do about it though, some are just born this way.”

“You got some nerve speaking to me this way!” Your fiancé scowled, offense way past his limit. “I could very well get your brother fired, ruin his career and this restaurant! Watch your—!”

“Yer switchin’ up on me again, sir? Didn’t ya say ya were gonna sue me earlier?” Osamu smirked, whistling. “Like hell, you could. I bet yer the least paid employee at the company. My brother could ruin yer sappy career, not the other way around. But whatever ya say.”

Your mouth was parted nearly the entire time, your cheeks flushing in crimson by now at the warmth emitting from this restaurant and Osamu’s words. His confidence added to just how attractive he seemed to get to you, the longer you’re sat so close to his thigh and arms that just oozed power the more your fiancé thought he did something. You lick your lips in anticipation at what else Osamu could say. It may have been weird to get aroused by the idea of him defending you and speaking for you in such a dominant tone that set the upper hand here. You rubbed your thighs as you let your gaze trail over his pecs and biceps bulging in his black shirt. Your cheeks were getting more red by the minute, but you couldn’t care.

Fuck, how is he so hot? And respectful?!

“I will not be tolerating this behavior! I need to have a word with your manager!” Your fiancé smacked the table with his fist.

“Our manager’s out for the night,” Osamu fakely pouted at his pathetic anger. He really was fake. “But I’m afraid I won’t be toleratin’ yer behavior any longer. Itsuki-kun, if ya would be so kind as to escort this ‘gentleman’ out of the restaurant and to his car after he pays? I’d be really grateful to ya.”

“Of course, sir!” Itsuki nodded and walked over to your fiancé’s side, motioning for him to get up so they take their leave. “Please pay up so I can escort you to your car.”

You were surprised to see how the staff would obey Osamu as if he were the manager or something since he clearly had the upper hand here. He also would hand the orders to the cooks and walk around and make sure everyone was finding everything alright, besides being a waiter or a server. He would even stand to make conversation as if he wasn’t running on a time limit. You had a feeling he had more authority over here somehow, especially since your fiancé mentioned his brother who the restaurant might be for or owned by. That could do with it.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Your fiancé scoffed as he took out his wallet and placed the bill from the receipt Osamu had already put thereafter he brought out your meals, groaning as he stood up, sending a glare towards you as he motioned for you to get up as well. “Leave the food, we’re leaving!”

Your heart sank as you realized the night had to end in such a humiliating way. It was nice while it lasted, you frowned, grabbing your purse from your side of the chair and turning around to get up when Osamu placed his hand gently on your shoulder, shaking his head and smiling before turning to look at your fiancé whose eyes were wide with anger and surprise.

“Oh, she can’t leave now! Especially not with you,” Osamu chuckled, his hand still warm on your shoulder. “The pretty lady hasn’t had dessert yet! But don’t worry, sir, I’ll make sure she gets somethin’ just as sweet as her… And just as tasty, I bet.”

The moment those words slipped out of Osamu’s lips, he turned to smile innocently at you, hand squeezing your shoulder in assurance. As if the last sentence wasn’t suggestive enough to cause you to lick your lips and fist-clutch your dress at your thighs squeezing together. He had one hell of a good effect on you. You stare at Osamu towering over you in awe and gratitude, ignoring your fiancé’s yells as background noise when this moment just revolved around him and you, mostly around him being so kind and attentive to your needs tonight.

Wasn’t the night even supposed to be over? Why did he ask you to stay? Especially after all the crap your fiancé pulled at the restaurant, disrespecting Osamu and everyone else working tonight.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Osamu looked into your eyes with nothing but soft sincerity in his voice, fingers rubbing your collarbone, causing shivers to run down your spine at his gentle touch.

“Y-Yeah! I…” You blush, not sure what to say since you were left speechless by Osamu. You were so grateful, you didn’t really know how to thank him, and at this point, you felt small tears stinging your eyes. “Thank you, you’re so kind. I’m sorry for the way he acted, I didn’t mean—!”

“Don’t apologize for that dickhead,” Osamu bluntly stated, smiling, causing your lips to lift in a small smile. “Ya did nothing wrong, pretty girl. It should have been him who shoulda genuinely apologized, not fakin’ one just for the sake of knowin’ my brother.”

“I know,” You smiled weakly. “But that was still ill-mannered of him and I didn’t mean to cause any commotion at—!”

“Sweetheart,” Osamu interrupted you softly, leaning over closer to your face, but not to the point of making you uncomfortable. In fact, doing the complete opposite by calming you down with his kind gaze. “I said don’t apologize.”

You didn’t know why you immediately obeyed what he said under his dominant gaze over your own. You felt like entirely doing whatever he wished due to the fact he was so kind to you tonight.

So you stayed quiet.

“Now,” Osamu clasped his hands, his smile still gentle, turning to call over someone. “Himiko-chan!”

“Yes, Osamu-kun?” The hostess from earlier walking over to where Osamu ushered for her.

“Could ya grab me one of the dessert menus for the pretty lady?” He asked with a smile, Himiko nodding before sauntering away to grab a dessert menu for you.

Osamu turns to you and smiles for the hundredth time tonight, grabbing the menu from Himiko as she walked back and handed him one. Osamu chuckled at your nervous state before handing you the dessert menu.

“It’s q-quite alright, you don’t have to do this, Osamu-san!” You shook your hands frantically, honestly feeling like a burden.

“Yer right, I don’t have to do this,” Osamu shrugged, causing you to frown for a split moment. “I’d really like to do this.”

Your lips parted and your cheeks turned red for the hundredth time tonight as well, nodding sheepishly and relaxing under Osamu’s gaze and whole-hearted smile. He was being so sweet… in so many ways that you’re truly not sure how to thank him.

You looked down at your purse and cursed mentally at the fact you chose not to bring your wallet since you were assured your fiancé would pay for dinner. And since he left…

“Actually, I’m sorry but I misplaced my wallet since he paid for my dinner, so I really can’t...” You trail off, frowning at the inconvenience. However, looking up in surprise when Osamu chuckles softly at your words.

“I didn’t say ya had to pay,” Osamu chuckled at your flustered state, causing you to part your lips once more in surprise. “It’s on the house, pretty girl.”

“I…” You trailed off, flushed and taken back by all his actions. “But how can you—?”

Osamu sighed as he sat down across from your curious gaze at the table, resting his cheek onto his hand as he tilted his head at you.

“How?” Osamu grinned as he repeated your innocent question, you nodding, waiting for him to answer.

“I’m the owner of the restaurant, sweetheart.”

for every reblog i’ll give you a kith on the nose <3