after hours (osamu miya x y/n)
a/n: this idea has been with me for the LONGEST time and i've always js mentally stored it with an unnamed love interest. but then. i realized. OSAMU MIYA IS A CHEF. so he works perfectly for this.
just for the dramatic effect and the sake of the plot, i made him and onigiri miya like very famous not sure how canon accurate that is.
i might make this a series but im still deciding on that. lmk if i should. but yep enjoy what i have for now :3
warnings: people pleaser reader, timeskip!osamu, overworking tendencies for both osamu and reader, childhood acquaintances to lovers, partially smau, reader is kinda awkward, quite dialogue heavy, mention of skipping meals, a suggestive comment or two,
and that, ladies and gentlemen, was how you ended up here. standing outside onigiri miya at 12:30am that same evening, still wearing the same clothes from the day since you'd gone straight here after staying late at the office. you worked a seemingly simple job at a printing, editing, and publishing firm, but one would be surprised at the sheer amount of work it took to proofread an entire book and communicate with an author who clearly thought reading emails was a waste of time. it was alright though! you knew how hard your best friend had worked to plan out this wedding, and doing this little thing for her wouldn't kill you. right?
except maybe it would. because you weren't exactly sure if it was illegal to break into a restaurant with a big "we are closed" sign at the door at midnight. and you weren't exactly sure if this whole childhood card would work at all. at this point, you were just hoping osamu didn't try to throw a knife at you.
see, it was true that you were childhood... acquaintances with him. you'd helped him out with a sheet of homework or two, attended the same primary school for a couple years, lived on the same street, all that. but you were never close to the point where as adults you could break into his restaurant to beg for him to cater a random woman's sister's wedding. unfortunately for you, you'd always struggled with saying no to requests, and thus got into situations like this more often than you'd like to admit.
anyway, you took a deep breath and checked the door once more to find that it was, in fact... unlocked? how strange. this guy needed to work on the safety of his restaurant. as you stepped inside silently, you were greeted with the warm, comforting scent of onigiri and the steady thump of a knife on a chopping board. seriously, prepping this late into the night? wow, a fellow workaholic! you looked around at the restaurant, seeing the dozens of tables and chairs, now empty and quiet for a place that sure was loud all the time. you'd never eaten here, but boy did social media love talking about this place. and the head chef, who had quote on quote "biceps that should NOT look that good in a chef's apron" and had girls "screaming and drooling and crying all at the same time". as a result, there always seemed to be an insane line outside this place, with a suspicious amount of teenage girls in said line. sure, osamu miya was cute in his primary years, but just how attractive could a man even be-
6 feet of muscle was currently leaning over a chopping board, an onigiri miya hat perched on a head of messy, dark hair. and good lord, those eyes when they looked up at you- oh shoot. "miss, i ain't a police officer, but i'm pretty sure breaking 'n entering 's a crime," a deep, low, and tired voice says, replacing the silence of the restaurant. "t-the door was open, sir! uh, i mean, chef?" "'tsumu must've left it unlocked after he left.. that idiot." he sighed deeply as he mentioned his twin brother, a boy you remembered from your childhood as well. "well, miss, 'm pretty sure he didn't take down the sign at the door as well. and so, ya probably know damn well that we're closed. have been for a couple hours now. i'm not givin' out autographs right now, sorry. please visit our website to make a reservation-" "i'm not here for a reservation! or an autograph. or whatever else people ask you for," you blurted out, immediately blushing when he raised an eyebrow, and you could see the slight frustration in his eyes. you fidgeted with your hands a little more before deciding to just go for it.
"i don't know if you remember me, but... i'm y/n l/n." a confused look passed over his face before his eyes widened in recognition. "oh my god. like, y/n from hyogo? we went to the same primary school! ya helped me out on that one math test, of course i remember ya," he chuckled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time since you'd entered the restaurant. "oh, thank goodness. it's been a while, osamu," you greeted, smiling softly with relief. "yeah. glad to see you're doin' well. anyway, what motivated you to come sneak into here at midnight?" your smile faded slightly as your remembered the real reason for your visit. you explained it nervously, only to get met with a solid response.
"no." "osamu, please-" "nope. do ya have any idea how hard it is managin' a restaurant that's packed to the brim every single hour of the day? for god's sake, y/n, i've had 3 employees somehow be sick for an entire week straight and yet be able to post endlessly about a beach day." you sighed, completely understanding his point. but boy would it be hard to explain yourself to bsf/name. and to see the disappointment in her eyes when you told her what he'd said? you couldn't take that. "i'm really sorry for nagging, osamu, i really am. but she needs this. and if you say yes, i promise i'll do all the work. all you have to do is make the food. i'll cover everything else," you pleaded, gripping your tote bag hard. he was silent for a moment before speaking once more. "hold up, why are ya even here? wait, sorry, that sounded mean. this ain't your wedding, is it? so why are ya havin' to come out here and try to convince me to do all this?" you blinked once. twice. why'd he care?
"uh, well, she asked me to do so. and, you know, we're childhood frien- acquaintances." "so? if someone asked ya to carry their luggage across all of japan, you'd do it?" you shrugged and nodded. "why wouldn't i?" his brow furrowed, and he frowned slightly at your response. "ya do know that's unhealthy, right? and that ya haven't changed one bit since primary school?" you laughed softly, waving his comments off casually. "i'm alright. seriously. don't worry about me. but anyway, about the wedding...?" he looked you dead in the eyes, and you wished as hard as you could that he would say yes.
"sit down, and let me cook something for you" was his reply. what the heck? your confusion must've shown on your face because he shrugged and explained, "it's not good to make decisions on an empty stomach. and ya came in right when i was makin' my dinner. so now you're gonna sit here and wait for me to finish. 's that alright with ya?" you nodded wordlessly, taking a seat on a barstool nearest to the kitchen. you didn't even find the fact that he was only eating dinner at midnight strange; you'd done that numerous times in the past as well. in seconds, you heard the sound of chopping continue again, as well as osamu's voice call out to you. "so, how have ya been after primary school?"
the next time you checked your watch, it was 1:45am. you'd been here for over an hour, just catching up, enjoying yourself far more than you'd let yourself recently. osamu was... easy to talk to. he was a great listener and very observant too. you hadn't even said anything, but he'd brought out an extra onigiri for you as well as though he knew you'd skipped lunch that day. you'd gotten to share stupid childhood stories, your obsession with pens and special edition books that you already owned, the origins of your pet kitten, and so many other small things about yourself. he had his fair share of stories as well; he'd loved volleyball, but food has always been his biggest passion, which is why he founded onigiri miya in the first place. he acted like he hated atsumu, but at the end of the day, they were each other's biggest supporters, and he still did his best to attend as many of atsumu's games as he could.
the only difficult thing about talking to him was, well... him. you'd never been too interested in relationships or attractive men in general, but whoa. every time he'd reach over and grab something, it took everything in you not to physically salivate over those biceps. when you saw his fingers hold a pair of chopsticks, you had to stop yourself from imagining what else those fingers could do to you. the man was attractive. like, dangerously attractive.
overall, though, you'd truly enjoyed your time with him. but it was far too late. and you knew you'd taken up too much of his time already. so you said your farewells, packed up your stuff, and were one step away from stepping out of the restaurant when-
"i'll cater the wedding." did you hear that correctly? you instantly turned around, eyes wide. "seriously?" "yeah. ya convinced me." "i didn't even say anything to convince you, though..." he only hummed in response, a small smile playing on his lips. "don't worry about me," he said, echoing your earlier line. "but all i'm doin' is cookin' the food, 'kay? nothin' more, nothin' less. and when ya tell your friend that i said yes, ya tell her i said it out of the good of my heart, not 'cause ya convinced me. don't want ya gettin' any more persuasion requests from her." you nodded immediately, grinning gratefully. you could do that, of course. you were so, so grateful. "thank you so much, osamu. seriously. it'll mean the world to her." "yeah, yeah, no problem. don't make me regret it."
you gave him one more smile and were halfway through turning towards the door when he grabbed your wrist. "uh, could i have your number? f-for business purposes! of course! y'know, like to contact and plan stuff.." the viral chef was blushing. full on rosy cheeks and avoiding eye contact. and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't one of the most endearing things you'd seen. "yeah, of course. gimme your phone, i'll put it in."
once you were done, you smiled at him once more. "tonight was really great, samu. have a good evening, alright?" and the poor boy blushed even more at your use of the nickname. he mumbled a quiet goodbye as well before you left the restaurant, that fond little smile practically stuck onto your lips.
you were glad you'd gotten him to say yes, but you were more glad that you now had a reason to spend more time with him. because you had a feeling these afterhours with him were the start of something special.
