miya osamu has long accepted the fact that the girl he loves is a crybaby.
when he and atsumu met you as kids you were crying alone in the playground as your friends left one by one.
when you entered middle school with them you cried when you found out you were in separate classes.
when he gifted you a necklace he had worked hard for to buy you cried so hard you got snot all over his shoulder.
when atsumu made you so mad you cried in his arms as he comforted you.
when you and atsumu left hyogo for tokyo, you cried begging him to call you everyday.
when you were feeling lonely in college you cried on the phone with him and cried when he finally found the time to visit.
you cry over the smallest inconveniences, anything that made you feel happy, had you feeling mad, excited, surprised, anything.
so it's no surprise to him that it's taking you so long to finish your vows because of crying so hard.
all formalities are forgotten as he pulls you in his arms, swaying you gently as you finish the last of your vows. family, friends, and guests are forgotten ones he cries with you as he reads his vows written on a tissue paper.
"I whole heartedly promise to love you, comfort you and cry with you even if death separates us and even in our next life. i'd love you now and forever and until the next life that i'll share with you."
Atsumu cries at every heartfelt act you do for him. It doesn’t matter what it is.
You could give him a rock and say it reminded you of him and he’s damn near in tears.
Or if you call him over the phone and say you’re coming over with his favorite food. He’s trying to muffle his whimpers.
He just loves you so much and even though he teases you so so much for your sappy acts, he loves it all way too much.
So you can only imagine his reaction when you write him a letter for your guys anniversary. Gifting him a basket full of things and memories throughout your relationship.
He’s quiet for quite some time and it worries you that he didn’t like it. But it’s the exact opposite he loves it. When you hear his sniffles, you’re snapping your head towards him, brows pulling together.
“Sumu? What’s wrong?” You rush to his side, rubbing his back but he cries more.
“I jus’—”
He hiccups.
“I love you s’much. M’gonna marry you I swear.” He pouts, staring at you with his big shining eyes.
You laugh and it kind of embarrasses him but he doesn’t care.
“I love you.” He says again, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. You soothe his hair as he holds you and calms down.
“I’ll be waiting then.” You smile, hugging him just as tight.
Timeskip!Matsukawa likes to steal your panties —smut, interact at your own risk
“Mattsun! Did you see my underwear? I could’ve sworn I put them in the drawer…”
“Mhh, no I don’t think so. Maybe you put them in the washing machine?”
—7 Hours later
Matsukawa‘s hand wraps around his lace covered cock, sitting on your shared bed with his pants halfway down.
Your essence that was left in the pretty, lace panties you wore today and Matsukawa’s Pre-cum mix against his tip, giving his masturbation session a filthy soundtrack.
“Fuck…,” he swears under his breath, while re-gripping his dick; the soft satin makes his hard to jerk off properly.
You may ask, hey, why is your Boyfriend jerking off when he has sex every night?
The answer is simply and easy: Matsukawa Issei is a massive pervert.
Bondage Kink, Orgasm Denial, Breeding Kink, Sadism, Piss Kink, Humiliation— the list of his Kinks goes on.
So, one of his many Kinks is secretly stealing your used panties, sniffing them and using your discharge as lube to jerk off more comfortably.
His eyes are closed tightly, imagining your curves, your voice and the thought of you wearing this panties before he forces his hand away from his hard, red cock, bringing your panties up to his face.
His left hand pushes the slick fabric to his lips and nose, inhaling your scent while his right hand grips his dick again, continuing jerking himself off.
With your scent in his nose and the satin halfway in his mouth, he cums with a loud groan, shooting his load in his hand, imagining it being your wet, warm mouth or gooey walls.
A few hours later, you find your panties in the laundry basket, completely soaked with…white, sticky liquid?
“Mattsun, what the fuck happened to my 100$ panties?”
His eyes widen innocently, “Baby, I have no idea.”
What a jerk.
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based on this
a/n: English isn’t my first language, criticism is welcomed but please be nice. Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! Do not steal or copy my work.
as atsumu’s proud and beloved girlfriend, you posted a photo of him warming up for one of his first msby games. in the photo, he’s looking real sassy while side-eyeing the opposite team’s setter, so you put the caption “watch out, he’s first up to serve… SERVE CUNT! pop off, babe!!”
featuring ⋮ atsumu miya x fem!reader ⸝⸝ your boyfriend learns how to braid your hair !
The afternoon sun filters through the window, catching in the strands of your hair as you sit cross-legged on the floor. Atsumu's behind you on the couch, legs spread on either side of you, a comb in one hand and your hair gathered messily in the other. The faint sound of a Youtube video plays from his phone—a cheeful voice explaining
"Now, take the left strand and cross it over the middle one..."
Atsumu squints at the screen like he's deciphering something out of this world. "Alright... left, then middle," he mutters, gathering your hair in his hands.
He manages the first few moves surprisingly well. Ever so often you can feel the faint pull of your hair as he carefully crosses one section over another. But then, when he tried to bunch everything into his other hand, the whole thing slips loose, falling apart instantly.
He huffs, cheeks a little pink. "'Course I am," he mutters under his breath. "Just gotta... wrangle it better this time."
He's so focused. You can tell by his silence and by the way his hands still every few seconds like he's thinking really, really hard about the next move.
"Okay... over, under... wait, no—shit, come back here—"
You bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing again, watching his reflection in the darkened TV screen. His brow is furrowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, tongue poking out in concentration.
"Ya got really soft hair," he mumbles absently, and it makes your heart flutter, the words slipping out so naturally that he doesn't even notice.
Time passes quietly—finally, he ties off the end with a tiny elastic and exhales. "Alright," he says proudly. "Moment of truth."
You reach back, fingers grazing the braid. It's a little loose, some strands sticking out—but the effort's there.
"Not bad," you admit, a small smile tugging at your lips.
"Not bad?" he repeats, offended. "That's professional-level braidin', sweetheart."
You glance up at him. His face is smug, but his hair’s sticking up in every direction, and his thumbs are fidgeting like he’s waiting for approval.
“It’s cute,” you say softly.
He beams. “Damn right it is.”
You laugh, leaning back a little until his chest is pressed to your back. His arms loop loosely around your shoulders, chin settling on top of your head.
“Next time,” he murmurs, voice a little lower, “I’ll do one’a those fancy ones. The… fish-tail thing.”
You smile, feeling him grin against your hair. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
wc: 1.2k
content warning: ur atsumu's first ever crush and he's all nervous and shy and silly!, fluff, atumu x reader, not proofread
note: this is for that one anon req!! im sorry that i chose to write atsumu instead of hoshiumi b/c genuninely i'm still not very familiar with hoshiumi as a character!! T_T but i still hope you enjoy this!!!!!
ㅤ۪⊹ ꣑ৎ
“The girls are gonna practice alongside us this whole week, you better behave” you overhead from the back. A familiar voice jogging through your mind while you attempt to look back to see who said that.
It was Shinsuke Kita, Inarizaki’s boys volleyball captain. He was explaining the current situation the girls’ gym was in and why you were gonna be sharing their courts to the Miya twins who’ve stopped by at your class.
A recognizable blonde behind his grey haired twin was trying to sneakily look through your class. His eyes squinted and widened in excitement the moment he found out where you sat by the window.
Atsumu had a big fat crush on you and everyone on the boys’ volleyball team knew. The moment school started after summer ended was when you found out you had class with one of them. Meaning, that that person may update Atsumu your every action if they really wanted to.
When you transferred into Inarizaki last year, you were a complete nobody. Not in a way where everyone disliked you, but in a sense where you absolutely knew no one. That was until you tried out for your favorite sport, volleyball, and successfully made it onto the team! From there you met your fellow friends, and classmates that they introduced you to. That of course, also lead to Atsumu’s discovery being you.
One day you stayed a bit longer in the gym where no one else was in building. You were practicing your serves, in hopes to get better before your next match. From the corner of your eye you saw a blonde man peak his head in, feeling his intense eyes resting on you, but too focused to look back.
Your dedication towards volleyball and your team got you caught up in his heart. He only came to the girls’ gym to look for his trainer, but was swept off his feet by his first crush ever, you.
“Oh my god Samu, she sits right ‘der” you heard Atsumu loudly whisper from behind Osamu before leaving.
You weren’t annoyed or disliked the fact that Atsumu liked you. You thought it was kinda silly how he chose you to crush on, overall he was popular amongst the girls in Inarizaki.
Either way you weren’t sure what the rest of the school year is gonna bring but you know it’ll be a very interesting year before graduation.
“Okay girls, remember to be respectful to the boys and their coach because they’re allowing us practice in their gym this week due to construction,” your trainer explained to your team. You’re all standing in front of the gym while your coach continues.
A few girls in the back were gossiping about the Miya twins and how attractive they are while you smiled under your straight face, a bit excited to see how Atsumu will react the moment he sees you walk in.
“For the first fifteen minutes, you guys will be stretching and warming up together to get along since we’re gonna be in here for a while. The boys’ coach will be subbing in for me while I prepare atheletic sheets to hand out, got it?” A loud ‘Yes!’ roaring from your group.
Your coach slides open the door, excusing your guys’ intrusion. The boys’ trainer walks over to the entrance to greet you all, the sounds of squeaking coming to a halt to follow behind their trainer.
When you’re all situated in the gym, their coach is going through all the basic rules about his courts and shows you which one you’ll be practicing in as well as where the balls are kept. Everyone’s bowing and introducing each other, of course a small crowd around the twins as always. They both somewhat ignored the girls, waiting for their trainer’s next order.
“Please choose a partner to get warmed up with for 15 minutes before you both split off and practice in your teams!” yelling across all the chit chat, catching everyone’s attention before they all go off to pick partners.
You’re looking down at everyone’s shoes, knowing everyone’s either already partnered up or already searching for one of the guys. A few steps in, a pair of familiar shoes catches your attention while you look up. It was no else but Atsumu Miya.
“Um… HI! Do you need a partner?” A bit louder than usual due to anxiousness, his hand reaching out to you with the other scratching the back of his neck to calm his high nerves. His large hooded eyes inspecting you in your casual shorts and tee.
“Oh..! Sure,” gladly agreeing amongst the murmurs. His hand reaches out to yours, leading you towards the volleyball cart in the back to select your ball, trying to get away from the crowd that gradually dispersed. While choosing a ball, his piercing tension is so dense the pressure’s making you sweat in fear.
“How bout you choose? You probably know which one’s best!” Turning around rapidly, pushing him closer to the cart nervously trying to get rid of this awkward atmosphere you created.
“O-Okay..” turning his head to seek a ball that’s in good condition. His heart is pumping like crazy, he can’t help but swallow hard. He wants this to go well and to build a stable connection with you throughout the week.
The moment he turned around was when you started to get down to stretch. Taking your mind off that blonde to get all loose, thank god because he would’ve continued to stare you down while you were choosing a ball.
“Let’s practice over there,” facing you again with a wide smile, he’s pointing at the corner of the gym where it’ll just be you two. Everyone’s already finished stretching, either in line to grab a ball where the front of the gym was or peppering to get more warmed up.
You agreed and followed him, he’s walking so stiffly. Did he forget to stretch? You can’t help but have these random thoughts engulfing your mind while you analyzed Atsumu now that you get to see him up close.
Blonde hair that so needed to be toned with purple shampoo, his brown hair growing in and peeking from the bottom. His tall and broad stature was attractive.. Not to mention his face. Him and his twin are highkey attractive, you had to admit.
“Pass!!” you shouted at him the moment threw the ball in the air. Somehow catching him off guard.
“Sorry about that. Kinda got the jitters, ‘er something like that. Ya know what, ignore that.. That was embarrassing” his pale face flushed a hot red in humiliation from what he just said. You tell him it’s okay and to continue, hearing him course under his breath.
To be honest, you thought that it was kinda cute that he had this more vulnerable and shy side to his tough guy act he always puts up. For once, he was the one who’s more flustered than even just a regular girl.
Before he began to practice with you, all you could think about is how this was gonna be a long but fun week.
Osamu wasn't worried. You'd said you were cooking dinner tonight, told him to sit his "chef ass" down and let you handle it for once.
Fine, he thought, watching you bustle around his kitchen with surprising confidence. He wasn't gonna get all high and mighty about it. You were cute when you were focused, muttering to yourself and taste-testing sauces with that little furrow in your brow.
Still… he was mentally prepared to pretend it was good no matter how it turned out. That was love, wasn't it?
So when you set the plate down with a simple "Eat," he raised an eyebrow, took a bite—and froze.
Slowly, he looked down at the plate.
Then back up at you.
Then back down.
"…The hell," he mumbled, taking another bite with more urgency this time.
You crossed your arms. "What?"
He pointed his chopsticks at the food. "This is actually… insane. Like, what did you put in this? Crack? Divine blessing? Is this what betrayal tastes like?"
You tried not to laugh. "So you like it?'
"Like it?!" he looked personally offended. "I've been slavin' away in kitchens since I was fifteen, and you just waltz in and out-chef me in my own house?"
You shrugged, enjoying the rare sight of Osamu looking genuinely rattled. "Guess I’m just naturally gifted."
He stared at you for a beat. "I need a moment. Gotta reevaluate my life."
You turned to grab something from the counter and—when your back was turned—he shoved another bite into his mouth with almost angry delight. He hated how good it was. He hated that he loved it more.
When you turned back, he was already halfway through the plate.
"Oi, slow down," you said, smirking.
"I can't. You've ruined me. I'm never cooking again," he declared. "You're in charge of dinner now. I'll stick to emotional support."
You rolled your eyes. "That’s rich coming from the guy who owns a restaurant."
He leaned back in his chair, defeated. "Whatever. My pride's gone. But at least my stomach’s full."
And as he watched you pack away the leftovers with a smug smile, Osamu swore he saw his future—and it smelled a lot like your cooking.
pairing : osamu miya x f!reader
summary : late in the evening your phone calls, and a desperate atsumu begs you to come pick up his brother who is not only drunk, but in an extremely bad mood — which results in your best friend behaving uncharacteristically mean
cw : best friends to lovers, timeskip, ooc osamu (not sure, i struggle writing him), angsty, hurt to comfort, profanity, intoxication, subtle pining, some miscommunication, jealousy, no use of y/n
word count : 2.5k
author's note : for my beautiful ave (@hiraethwa) as a part of @lale-txt's amazing hq secret santa event. ik i've taken my sweet time, and i hope the wait was worth it. due to a lil writing slump, and in general being intimidated by writing for hq, it ended up very different from what i initially planned, but i still hope you enjoy it <3 mwah
“What are you doing here?”
You drew a sharp breath, the venom in his voice catching you off guard.
“Atsumu called me,” you sighed, wrapping your arms tighter around your body. You tried to convince yourself it was to shield yourself from the December cold, but you knew it was more in order to bring yourself a sense of comfort — Osamu’s hostile tone stung more than expected.
He scoffed instantly as his brother’s name left your lips, head turning away as you saw him aggressively roll his eyes.
“Of course he did,” he mumbled.
His complaint was loaded with unspoken feelings. All the years you had known him had thought you that much — your usual sweet and mellow best friend had a tendency to become passive aggressive whenever something really bothered him.
“Don’t be like that. Come on, get up.” Part of you wanted to retaliate with a just as snappy remark, but it would only cause you more problems in getting him to come with you, something you suspected was already laid out to be a difficult task.
When he didn’t do as you told him, you stepped closer, begrudgingly offering him your hand to help pull him to his feet. He only stared at it — an ugly glare usually reserved for his brother.
“Osamu,” you groaned in frustration, “it’s fucking freezing, won’t you please just get up!” Again he just huffed. “Stop acting like a child,” shaking your hand, hoping he would eventually accept the gesture.
Finally he turned to look at you, his eyes digging deep into you as there was a tight crease between his eyebrows — it made your stomach turn. He never looked at you like this. If you didn’t know any better, you would describe it as pure disgust, that he couldn’t imagine a worse place to be than in your presence.
It was tempting to turn on your heel and let him sulk in his lonesome, where he sat on the frosty grass outside the annual Christmas party his team put together, one he had hinted at for weeks he never even wanted to attend. But you remained persistent, mirroring his mean frown and challenging his glare.
Another scoff slipped out of him. Then he weakly swatted your hand away and got on his feet without your help. Once he stood straight, you noticed how his towering frame swayed ever so slightly from the alcohol still running through his body.
“What?” He spat, still maintaining the ugly eye contact that felt like an insult.
The kindness that usually wallowed in his eyes seemed to have gone dormant. And despite his cruel and uncharacteristic edge, you couldn’t help but to admire how pretty he was. The light snow falling slowly around you, landing in his hair before melting into little droplets of water.
Clenching your jaw, you took a deep breath through your nose to bite back whatever rested on your mind, trying to tell yourself he was only acting this way because he was drunk.
“Nothing.”
With high shoulders, both caused by the cold and the uncomfortable tension, you turned and headed over to your car and opening the passenger door to hold it open for him. But when you turned to look up, Osamu was stood in the exact same position, sporting the same grumpy expression.
Your head fell back with another loud groan. “Osamu, I’m not doing this with you tonight, just get in the car.”
“I don’t feel like going with you,” stuffing his hands in his jean pockets as his shoulders raised, trying to conceal how the cold was starting to make his body tremble.
“Too damn bad, now get in the car,” you said sternly as you contested his mean stare.
You wondered what the hell could have happened for you to earn this treatment from him. Yesterday everything seemed fine, hanging out the whole group where everything had been so pleasant — perfect even, if you dared be that honest.
The unspoken thing between you had continued to grow stronger, slowly but surely breaking out from the restraints of ‘just friends’. Your gazes lingered longer than what would be considered normal. More often than not, your arm would shyly be pressed against his the entire time you were hanging out — yesterday was no different.
And when it was time for you to take your leave, his arms had wrapped around your shoulders in a comforting hug that had resulted in your head resting on his chest. Your feelings had gotten the best of you, and you had let your eyes slowly glide shut and bask in his embrace for a moment longer than you knew you should have — then you didn’t hear anything from him until Atsumu had called and begged you to come pick him up.
“Please come and get him. He’s really drunk and should be in bed,” Atsumu’s voice was laced with concern before it twisted into irritation. “He’s also just in a fucking pissy mood.”
It hadn’t been a question whether you should do it or not — you would always be there for Osamu.
You just hadn’t expected to be met with such hostility from the person you were walking such a fine line with, especially when it came so out of the blue.
“Atsumu really wasn’t kidding when he said you were pissy,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Funny how you two keep talking about me,” he said, kicking an illusionary rock making him appear even more like a bratty child.
“Yeah, told me your own team don’t even want you at the party no more because you’re a buzzkill.”
An aggressive scoff shot past his teeth. “Some friend you are, talking crap behind my back with my own brother.”
“Sure, whatever, you can tell me how bad of a friend I am on the way home. I won’t say it again, get. In. The. Car.”
There was a betrayal on his expression, a flinch in his frown, telling you your crass tone was having a bigger impact on him than he was letting on.
Though he hesitated, his feet eventually carried him unsteadily towards you. Without sparing you a single glance, he crouched in front of you to enter the car. And just as all four of his limbs were inside the vehicle, your anger had you slam the door with a lot more power than intended before scurrying into the driver seat.
“Put your seatbelt on,” you demanded, watching as his body had let go of the shivering as the heat inside the car enveloped him — but there was no change in his mood.
The car ride back to his apartment was spent with zero words exchanged. The only thing heard was the gushing sound of the heat you were blazing throughout the car, and the low tunes of your calm music, which was actually doing wonders for you to steady your emotions a little.
You pulled into his driveway, silence swallowing the car as you shut off the engine. You turned to look at him, bracing yourself to meet a stubborn child you probably had to fight in order to get out of the car — instead, he was half asleep, eyelids heavy as sleep was looming right around the corner. A deep sigh slipped out of you at the peaceful sight of your best friend.
Slowly you reached out, placing your hand on his shoulder to carefully shake him awake, “Osamu, we’re here,” you whispered, only for all your irritation to return in an instant as he jerked out of your gentle touch, frown creasing his features again.
He responded with a low “hmpf,” before unbuckling his belt and exiting the car, yet again never having the decency to look at you.
He’s drunk, he’s drunk, he’s drunk, you tried to tell yourself in order for you to be able to treat him with some grace. Alcohol could be the devil, turning the most gentle of people into pests — as seen right before your eyes. What kind of friend would you be if you couldn’t show him some mercy by excusing one bad night.
“Careful,” you sighed, rushing over to him to firmly place your hands on each side of his waist as he was about to tip over, “I got you.”
“I don’t need you to have me,” he nearly growled as he reached in his pocket for his keys — but he never jerked out of your grip, letting your hands remain at his side as substitute.
“Here, let me,” you tried to interject when he fumbled with unlocking the door for a second longer than your patience could endure. Of course he was unable to willingly hand you the keys, but at least he didn’t put up much of a fight when you twisted it out of his long fingers.
With one hand still resting on the small of his back, you unlocked the door. With gentle pressure, you ushered him forwards, desperate to get the nuisance that was your best friend to bed.
“You can go home now,” he slurred the second he set foot inside his apartment.
“Not leaving just yet,” you whispered, remaining close behind him, guiding him to his bedroom.
He grunted and grumbled disapprovingly, and you might even have heard a suppressed ‘so annoying’ under his breath. You bit your tongue again, just hoping he would pass out once he was safely in bed — maybe come tomorrow, he could even give you an apology.
“Now you can leave,” finally stumbling out of your light grip, spinning around to serve you yet another one of his frowns.
“I’ll get you some water first-“
“No. I want you to leave.”
“Let me take care of you first, okay?”
“No, please just go home.” There was a sadness in his voice now. And maybe it was the lighting playing tricks on you, but you swore you spotted a shine gloss over his eyes.
Your shoulders slumped, unable to give your anger room to grow when he was so evidently upset.
“Osamu,” you breathed, daring to take a step closer. “What’s going on?” Carefully you grabbed ahold of his arms and guided him to the edge of his bed. He wasn’t accepting your gestures entirely, scooting further away when you sat down beside him.
“Nothing. Just don’t want you here.”
“Did something happen tonight?”
“No, nothing happened so you can leave!” It seemed like he tried to find back to the bite that had been in his tone when you first picked him up, but the sudden shift in his mood had taken control of him instead.
You didn’t think twice about reaching out, placing a comforting hand on his back — only for him to shrug it off.
“Atsumu said you’d been-“
A visceral groan interrupted you. “It’s always Atsumu, isn’t it?” He turned to look at you, sad eyes locking with yours and now you could definitely spot the faint gloss of tears.
“What?” You breathed in confusion, eyebrows narrowing instinctively.
“All night!” He said, almost more to himself than to you.
“You’re going to have to elaborate.”
“All night, he was on his damn phone, and suddenly he has called you.”
You couldn’t help yourself, placing your hand in his back again to bring him comfort, but you wasn’t sure it was to any help. “Yes, so I could come pick you up.”
Another petty scoff, tainted with poorly hidden sorrow, escaped him. “Why don’t you just go? I’m sure he would love to hang out with you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you spoke softly, eyes studying his profile as his gaze was locked on his lap.
“I told you to leave!”
“Osamu,” you said sternly, fingers gripping his chin to force his focus back on you. “I said I’m not going anywhere!”
His eyes kept betraying him — his lips carried a frown and that crease between his eyebrows appeared to have grown stuck on his forehead.
But his eyes just looked so sad, as if somehow there was a lot of pent up feelings that had suddenly decided to spring to the surface and trap him in a spiral.
“It’s me,” you whispered, attention flittering between his eyes, hoping the tenderness you conveyed would convince him to reveal himself to you.
“That’s the problem.”
This was the first time you could remember being nervous around him, bordering on scared. You knew what you hoped he was getting at, but you were too afraid to let yourself be entertained by the pleasant fantasy.
It was so much safer to live in the naivety, thinking you were just more affectionate than other best friends. Entertaining a lovesick dream of being anything more was simply too risky, only seeing a scenario where you ended up hurt.
However, the look he gave you sprinkled just the tiniest bit of reality to your fantasy.
“Do you like him?” the innocent question tumbling out on accident, googly eyes staring at you before his shoulders bounced with a quiet hiccup.
“Like who?”
“You know who,” he whined, eyes pleading for you not to make him say it.
“Atsumu?” He nodded weakly, gulping down the nervous lump in his throat. “I mean, sure.”
“But do you like like him?” He caused heat to flush your face by his adolescent question.
“We’re just friends.”
“Are we just friends too?”
For some reason, his bold statement had the tension in your body evaporate, shoulders slumping before you moved your hand to cup his face, certain you heard the softest hum leave him as your hand caressed him.
“No, we’re not.”
And then he melted into your touch, finally letting his sweet smile paint his lips instead of that damn frown.
“You know we’re not,” you whispered.
“I know,” he whispered just as low, “but I needed to hear you say it.”
“But Osamu?” Your voice was soft as velvet, watching how his eyelids had become heavy again.
“Hm?”
“You’re still really drunk,” you chuckled weakly.
“Don’t worry,” he yawned, “I’ve liked you for years, so I’ll still remember tomorrow.”
You had no choice but take his word for it, hoping he would in fact remember the small confession exchange that had taken place. At least you had the ability to bask in some relief, feeling as if tons had been lifted from your shoulders.
With no sudden movements, your hand left his face before carefully getting on your feet. His breaths had slowly turned deeper and slower, a clear indication sleep were to consume him sooner rather than later, gracefully leading him to lay down on the bed.
You pulled his covers over him, smiling to yourself at the peaceful sight and thankful the night had managed to take a turn for the better.
Just as you were about to head out of his bedroom, his soft voice spoke your name.
“Yeah?”
“Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Osamu. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And right before you closed the door, you saw the sweetest smile stretch across his face once again.
an : also wanna thank the lovely lale for putting this whole thing together, and introducing me to this amazing group of people <3
comments and reblogs is much appreciated
