#osamu fluff

[dazaily]

osamu miya is your husband, you just haven’t been informed.

“last orders!” you said, cleaning up after the salary man who just left. 

the last customers were a elderly couple who often came for dinner. living a few blocks away from the store allowed them to visit frequently, making them one of the common faces in onigiri miya. 

you turned around and walked towards their table, asking for a final time if they wanted or needed anything before closing time. 

“efficient as always mrs. miya” 

“haha, thank you for your high praise, however i’m not a miya” 

the woman looked surprised, as her husband calmly sips on the last bits of his green tea getting ready to leave. 

“your not? i’m pretty sure the owner said you were his wife?” 

this time you were the perplex one, looking down to your fingers to make sure you didn’t forget marrying your boyfriend.

raising your hand to show your empty ring finger, you felt another pair of hands wrap around the half raised arm, putting it back down by your sides. then you heard a voice from behind you. 

“we just got married last month, so she’s still getting used to the new surname”

turning around you look at osamu, who was still holding your hands with a small mischievous smile on his face. you shoot him an inquisitive look, before returning your attention to the customers packing up to leave. 

before you could correct his blatant lie, the woman  chuckled. “fufufufu, you should’ve told me so earlier, enjoy being a newlywed while you can” 

the woman shot you and your boyfriend a sweet smile, as her husband helps her put on her coat. 

giving up on clearing up the misunderstanding, you escorted them to the exit. 

before leaving the store the woman’s husband handed you some cash which you assumed to be a tip.

“consider it our wedding gift to you” 

surprised by the reasoning, you tried to explain and clear up their misconception of your relationship with the owner. 

“oh, we’re not actuall—“ 

“thank you so much for your blessings! we’ll see you next time!” 

osamu cuts you off, grabbing your hand from behind again to wave the elderly couple off, wishing them a safe journey home with a wide grin on his face. 

you glanced at your boyfriend, as he shamelessly walks back into the store. you followed him in, locking up after entering, shooting him another glance just to see him cleaning up his station like he didn’t just lie to get extra money. 

“did you just propose to your employee at work? i’m pretty sure that’s an abuse of power mr. miya. wouldn’t want your business license getting suspended now would you?” 

breaking your silence, you decided to question him on the events that transpired in the last 5 minutes.

“i don’t know what your talking about my dear?” 

“you just lied to our regulars!” 

you heard the grin in his voice as he replied. 

“our? i’m pretty sure this place is called onigiri miya, so for them to be OUR regulars, you must be a miya” 

“hmmmm, i don’t see a ring on my finger” 

laughing at your response, he exercised his rights to remain silent. little did you know about the cake, bouquets, and engagement ring waiting for you at home, along with marriage filing documents he’d already signed. 

-

a few months later, the regular elderly couple was back. 

“mrs. miya, still as efficient as ever” 

“thank you as always, i don’t deserved your high praise ma’am”

she chuckled in response “fufufu, i see you’ve gotten used to your new name.” 

you flushed at her observation, not bothering to clear up the misunderstanding from before. as you sheepishly scratched your head flashing the glittering ring osamu proposed with. 

“i guess so”

[mourvii]

they’re trying so hard to behave

⤷summary: totally innocent things you do that makes them lose their minds a little

⤷content: fluff, light crack, suggestive undertones??, established relationship

⤷characters: miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, ushijima wakatoshi, miya atsumu, kita shinsuke, and tsukishima kei

‎ . ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ OSAMU MIYA

it’s the sauce again.

you’re perched on the counter in one of his shirts, eating fried chicken with your fingers, and you don’t even notice him watching.

“you’re starin’,” you say, voice muffled with food.

“am not.” he’s absolutely lying.

he’s supposed to be mixing batter, but instead he’s thinking about the way you just licked your thumb clean—slow, absentminded. he grips the whisk tighter.

you tilt your head at him, all innocent eyes and a sauce-stained cheek. “you okay there, chef?”

osamu blinks, turns around, mutters something like “yeah, fine” while trying to look anywhere but you.

he’s not fine. not even close.

you swing your legs and hum as if you haven’t just ruined his entire morning. he swears the next time you sit on his counter like that, he’s confiscating all sauces within a ten-meter radius.

. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

he’s folding laundry when you come in, hair down and messy from sleep.

then you grab a scrunchie, push your hair back, and tie it up.

he swears time slows down. the wrist twist. the tug. the reveal of your neck. he blinks once, twice, and looks away like he just saw something illegal.

“what?” you ask, oblivious.

“nothing.” he’s staring at the wall now. very intently.

you shrug, go back to scrolling your phone, and he’s left pretending that he isn’t imagining pressing his lips right where your pulse beats.

later, you catch him watching you again in the mirror. “you sure it’s nothing?”

he exhales sharply. “you should... wear your hair down less.”

you laugh, because you know exactly what he means.

. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

you stretch beside him, arms raised above your head, shirt lifting just enough to show the soft curve of your stomach.

he’s reading, or at least he was. now his book is halfway forgotten.

“tired?” he asks, voice steady, but his eyes have gone a little unfocused.

“just stiff.”

he hums like he didn’t just witness a divine act. you drop your arms, sigh contentedly, and he swallows. he has a thought—something about how delicate you look and how badly he wants to trace the shape of you—but he keeps it to himself.

later, when you fall asleep next to him, curled and warm, he closes the book, presses a kiss to your forehead, and whispers something you don’t quite catch.

it sounds like mine.

. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ ATSUMU MIYA

you sass him again—hands on hips, that tiny pout, that look.

“i told you it’s your turn to do the dishes,” you say.

“i’m the breadwinner ‘round here,” he argues dramatically, “shouldn’t have to wash dishes when i’m providin’ for us.”

you stare him down. he cracks first. he always cracks first.

five minutes later, he’s elbow-deep in soap suds, muttering under his breath. you lean against the counter, smug.

“what was that?” you ask sweetly.

“nothin’, sweetheart.”

you hum, start humming a tune as you dry the plates.

he glances up. there it is again—that stupid warmth in his chest that feels like home. he grins, shakes his head.

“ya drive me crazy, ya know that?”

you smirk. “that’s the point.”

. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ KITA SHINSUKE

you’re curled up on the couch, oversized sweater sleeves covering your hands, a steaming cup of tea resting in your lap.

he stops in the doorway for a good ten seconds before he moves again.

“you okay?” you ask, smiling softly.

he nods. “you just look… peaceful.”

it’s a small thing, but it hits him every time—the way you exist so gently. the way you make his quiet evenings feel warmer.

he sits beside you, careful, and you shift enough to lean your cheek on his shoulder. he freezes for a moment, then exhales.

“that’s nice,” you mumble, eyes half-closed.

he hums. “yeah. it is.”

he’ll never admit it out loud, but he thinks you might be the most dangerous thing to ever happen to his heart.

. ݁⋆ ۶ৎ ݁ TSUKISHIMA KEI

you’re talking—about something random, probably a meme or a classmate—and your hands are moving all over the place. waving, gesturing, tapping your knuckles on the table when you pause to think.

he’s not listening. not really.

“are you even paying attention?” you ask.

“no,” he says truthfully.

you roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but you’re smiling.

he watches you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and it’s unfair, honestly, how you can make him feel this unsteady without trying.

when you reach out to poke his cheek, he catches your wrist—not hard, just enough to make you blink up at him.

“you talk too much,” he says, but his voice is softer than usual.

you grin. “and yet, you never tell me to stop.”

he doesn’t reply. just lets go of your hand and goes back to his phone—even though he’s not reading a single word on the screen.

[evamame]

osamu has gotten soft around the edges.

his arms are bigger now, full from all of the food he’s been “test” eating for the restaurant. carrying sacks of rice all day keeps them toned, but now you can pinch his skin when you want his attention and bury your head in the crook of his arm comfortably when you're cuddling. his hugs are all the more warmer, too. the extra fat makes him your personal heater when it’s too cold at night and neither of you want to get up to turn the ac off. his stomach is more pudgy, enough that he’s softer to lay on, but you can still run your hand over the now slightly less defined ripples of his abs.

and he’s also gotten softer for you, or at least atsumu strongly thinks so whenever osamu visits home. “you've gotten soft, 'samu. you’re always gushing over your girlfriend!” he'd say, ruffling his twin's hair as he's got him in a headlock. osamu can't bring himself to deny it. if it means loving you better, what does a little extra skin do to him?

© evamame 2026. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[miyaz6ki]

bringing their kids to interviews ft. hq men

ʚ♡ɞฺ　　main m.list　ྀིᨯ — cw. fluff, established relationship, post timeskip duh kids ages range in 1-6 at max, characters included: iwaizumi, oikawa, kuroo, atsumu, osamu, sakusa, kageyama, hinata, ushijima, bokuto

iwaizumi subconsciously rubs his thumb on your son's back when he taps his chest, asking for his lion plushie that your husband had forgotten, stuck in the bag you had brought whenever it was a day you'd go out with your son.

"and i would like to thank my-" - "papa!" the smaller version of himself basically pulling at his tie while he tries to answer properly. he'd stay perfectly in control though, just to set the scene.

he just tickles the little guy until he stops fussing, at least until he finishes the question. "god, the little man is incredibly eager today, aren't you?" the athlete walks over to your on the sides, escorted by a few bodyguards as you take the hazelnut-headed baby from his arms.

oikawa happily introduces both him and his little girl before answering a few questions. whether those questions are about his gameplay or hi personal life, he answers whatever he can. what people find most adorable is how identical the grin on his daughter face was to his own.

"ah, my spouse? they're actually sitting over there- no i'm not going to point so no one crowds them." the same enthusiasm you fell in love with made you sigh while a few of his teammates stand nearby to bodyguard you in a way.

"dada! wanna say hi to mama/papa!" - "go wave, sweetie, they're right there!"

kuroo has his carbon copy sat on his lap, the little boy having hidden his face for a while in his father's vest, you questioned if it was really a good time to show the world he had a child- well, that's before you knew that crow jr. was just fast asleep.

"ah you know kids, they sleep easy, a luxury i wish i could still have." - "da... i wan' mama/papa..." tugging at the hem of his clothes, you could feel your heart warm when the microphone picked up your son's words.

"we can go to 'em later, okay?" - "huuungry..."

atsumu was getting interviewed right after a game, getting caught offguard, he didn't have time to put his girls down. the older girl being two years more than the smaller girl, one stood and one sat respectively. at least that's the stance he took after tossing them both into the air at least thrice.

"ha? oh! ohohohoh- yeah, these are my kids! just the prettiest in the whole world, aren't they?" placing a kiss on both of their heads, "clearly they take after their mother/father, yeah?"

you could only feel your face heat up hours later when you're rewatching the interview for yourself. "what're ya blushin' 'bout?? was tellin' them the truth!"

osamu gladly introduced the twins you had blessed him with, the two boys that were finally revealed at onigiri miya; helping their father out with work and serving customers with the smile osamu only offered to the love of his life, you.

"mmhhmm, yeah, my boys are amazin' at everythin', aren't they? learned from the best, and look like the best. me and their mother/father respectively."

"'samu, you were so sweet up there but you know damn well they learned how to help you because i pushed them to?" - "yeah yeah. don't take all the credit, beautiful."

sakusa keeps his distance by himself, and it only worsens when his little girl is in the vicinity of cameras, and lights when he finally gets out the locker room post-game. despite the eyerolls and such, he really isn't gonna be a man above flexing about how pretty his little girl is.

"of course she is my daughter, beautiful and much more bearable than you all." is all he really gets out before leaving the limelight to go back to where the two of you were.

"wow, really wouldn't give them a chance?" you smoothly slid a smoothie into his freehand for him and the young lady to share; said little lady already reaching out for the shaved flavored ice. "god, you really want people to know about our life or what?" - "was just joking, 'omi!"

kageyama is... well both him and his barely one year old toddler didn't like the amount of questions being asked, and yearned only for one thing left; to go back to the arms of mama/papa...

"i- yes, she is my daught- no she hasn't been enrol... i..." the little girl looks up at him and blinks anticipatedly, as if telepathically communicatin with her father, she starts to fake a loud cry that successfully gets him out of the spotlight.

"aw is my baby- oh, she's already okay? i thought she was crying?" - "oh you know things babe, i'm just a great dad." he places a kiss onto the little girl's head that makes her babble happily.

hinata, one moment was tossing her up into the air, next thing five journalists and three cameramen are already in his face, asking whose child is it... well, they had the same orange hair... who else's kid would this be?

"uh, yeah, she's my kid. she, and my beautiful partner are my inspiration during matches yes." - "dada! i want hooome!!"

he reluctantly answered only the questions that concerned the games for the next five minutes before coming back to you. "jeez, so many interviewers, huh?" - "okay, mr. popular, our daughter seems hungry."

ushijima is on stage, mic and everything as per usual, but this time the cameras weren't really focused too much on him, rather on the little girl that grasped his jacket's collar with amazement. whispering little words that the mic would pick up, people couldn't help but 'aww' at her!

"yes, the match was very beneficial for the growth of our team." - "ba... pa... papa..." would echo silently right behind the athelete's firm words, he probably couldn't see it, but you could easily spot how easily the crowd faltered at the hands of your daughter.

holding your son's hand, you walk over to your husband as he comes back, "seems like someone's talkative tonight." - "i believe so, our daughter likes the press."

bokuto was pulled onto a stage to talk about his most recent match and how his fake spike came up as an option in his mind. be surprised but i believe he'd be the kind to answer while catering to his daughter. sitting on his lap while he had a large hand around her small body.

"yes! that spike- god it just, you should know... sweetheart, don't eat that; the adrenaline an athlete experiences during a match makes your brain work overtime! and- baby, you know your mother/father is gonna kill me for this-"

long story short he's kinda got it under his control until he realizes 'yooo im a good dad while answering questions professionally'.

im tenya iida

[weirdergirlbrina]

“MIYA!”

Osamu whips around on instinct, confusion quickly taking over when he sees you storming straight toward him.

Fast. Angry.

Gorgeous.

He’s sure he’s never seen you before, but the way you’re looking at him, it seems you’ve definitely seen him.

You’re frowning, anger written all over your face, but all he can think is how unfair it is that someone this pissed off can look that good.

He barely has time to process what’s happening before you’re right in front of him, foot tapping, arms crossed, irritation rolling off you in waves.

“Hey asshole,” you snap, “I know you think you’re too good for this group project but if you don’t get your shit together I’m gonna shove your volleyball so far up your ass you’ll be tasting it for years”

Osamu blinks.

Once.

Twice.

“…Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, you fake blonde” you fire back instantly.

Oh.

The dots finally connect in his brain, this is not about him. Unfortunately, that realization comes just a second too late, because you’re already going again, words sharp and relentless.

“Just because you think you’re hot shit doesn’t mean you get to ditch your part and leave the rest of us hanging!”

The dumbstruck look on his face does nothing to calm the anger burning in your stomach. You scoff, eyes rolling on instinct, “Helloooo? What, did you finally take one too many balls to the head?”

He knows he looks stupid right now. Feels it, too. Mouth slightly open, eyes stuck on you like he forgot how to function.

God.

He’s in love, has to be.

He opens his mouth, ready to correct you, maybe even flirt a little..

“Get your part done” you cut in, “You look fucking stupid in a hat, by the way”.

Ouch.

You flash him quick, biting smile, spinning on your heel and leaving in a silent fury.

He just stands there, heart beating way too fast for someone who just got verbally torn apart for no reason.

“…Man,” he mutters under his breath, a slow grin spreading across his face, “…Atsumu, yer so screwed.”

He continues his walk home like nothing happened, but your face is already burned into his brain.

That little frown.

The attitude.

The confidence.

The way you didn’t hesitate for even a second to go off on someone twice your size.

Yeah.

He doesn’t even bother fighting it.

He’s in love.

————————————————————————

A/N: Osamu “yes ma’am, whatever you say ma’am” Miya 🫡

he’s down bad.. got yelled at for no reason and thought hm yeah I want them bad

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 | 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐤𝐲𝐮𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

miya osamu x f!reader

➢ synopsis: when your daughter starts kindergarten at the quirky all-girls school across town, you form an alliance with the only other solo parent in her class: hot single dad miya osamu. what ensues is a year's worth of chaos — and a love you didn't think you deserved.

➢ what to expect: friends-to-lovers, slice of life, found family, tooth-rotting fluff, occasional angst, mentions of absent parents, any 18+ nsfw content will be tagged!

➢ how to read: each installment stands on its own, but there's an ongoing story that unfolds if you read it chronologically!

➢ listen while you read: ufo, better than, worth it

➢ status: in progress!

1. lunch boxes

➢ when you get a call from your daughter's teacher that a classmate ate her lunch, you're determined to give the parents a piece of your mind — only to meet hot single dad miya osamu instead.

2. bake sale

➢ at your first pta meeting of the school year, osamu ropes you into running the fall bake sale with him.

3. on the house

➢ osamu treats you to lunch at onigiri miya — and grows determined to change your half-hearted relationship with food.

4. bug fair

➢ osamu finds out about his daughter's school project the night before it's due. in a rare moment of panic, he calls you for backup.

5. pick-up lines

➢ you meet osamu's twin in the pick-up line of your daughter's school.

6. stage fright

➢ osamu comforts your daughter before her first music recital of the school year.

7. the fiancé

➢ your ex-fiancé comes into town with a favor to ask. meanwhile, osamu struggles to keep his own feelings in check.

8. field trip

➢ osamu notices you're having an off day and wants nothing more than to comfort you. the only problem? you're both chaperoning the kindergarten field trip.

9. tooth fairy

➢ when osamu tells his five-year-old daughter that the tooth fairy isn't real, he, you, and atsumu team up to do damage control.

...stay tuned for more!

please note: there is no taglist for this series! i wish i had time to maintain one, but alas, adulting is hard. feel free to turn on post notifications for my blog instead!

@miyasmagnolias, 2026

[xoxojisu]

"YOU'RE PREGNANT?!"

synopsis: you're pregnant with osamu's baby! you need to break the news to atsumu, but he somehow spoils it.. for himself?

notes: afab reader if that wasn't obvious

you and osamu had rehearsed this like three times on the drive over.

well, you rehearsed it. osamu just kept nodding and saying, “he’s gonna be loud either way,” which… yeah, fair. but this was a big deal! atsumu may have been chaos incarnate, but he was still osamu's twin brother, and you both wanted him to be one of the first to know!

so here you were, sitting in a booth at a quiet ramen place, the twins across from each other like always, bickering over toppings like they weren’t in their thirties.

“who the hell puts corn in ramen?” atsumu griped, making a face.

“people with good taste,” osamu muttered, not bothering to even look up from his bowl in favor of continuing eating. "corn in ramen's tasty. it's sweet and crunchy and buttery. yer just not refined enough to get it. got the taste buds of a toddler."

"it's actually pretty good! osamu put me on." you chimed in.

“he look like he is the corn in ramen,” atsumu grumbled. “fuckin' fatass. what, ya pregnant?”

you froze.

osamu froze.

atsumu… kept eating.

you and osamu turned to each other in perfect sync, wide-eyed, identical expressions of did he just..? before you could even stop yourself, you blurted:

“how’d you know?!”

atsumu blinked. “huh?”

osamu reached over to hit atsumu on the head with his chopsticks, not saying anything, just staring at him in disbelief.

"wait, what?" atsumu said, "hold on-"

"is twin telepathy actually real?! holy shit! samu, why didn't you tell me that he could fucking read your mind?"

“i- huh? what? wait,” atsumu stuttered, eyes darting between you two, hands raised in shock. “you thought i meant you-” he pointed at you. “you’re pregnant?!”

you nodded slowly, still stunned. “we were literally about to tell you.”

atsumu opened his mouth. closed it. opened it again. “what the hell, i.. i was callin’ him fat!”

“i’m not fat,” osamu hissed. “i’m-”

“i was makin’ fun of him! i didn’t think i had mind-readin’ powers! holy shit!”

“well clearly you do!” you exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “you just predicted a whole pregnancy announcement! twin telepathy is real!”

atsumu leaned back in the booth, looking like he just got hit with a volleyball straight to the face.

“yer seriously- like, for real- like- like, actually pregnant?”

you nodded again, this time with a soft smile. “yeah. just a couple months.”

atsumu stared for another beat before his face completely split into the biggest, brightest grin you’d ever seen.

“no freakin’ way! i’m gonna be a uncle?!” he launched halfway across the table, practically knocking over a bowl in the process. “holy shit, i was jokin’! samu, ya really did it, ya old sap!”

osamu groaned as atsumu pulled him into a squeeze. “let go of me.”

“never! i’m gonna tell everyone!”

“you’re not.”

you laughed, the moment finally settling into the warm, chaotic joy you’d expected from the start.

atsumu finally let go, eyes still sparkling. “i can’t believe i called it. like—psychic level. maybe i should open a side hustle. chicks would pay big money for a hot guy to read their fortune.”

osamu looked at you. “i told ya he’d be loud.”

you grinned. “he was also kinda perfect.”

“damn right i was,” atsumu said, already pulling out his phone. “now what’s the name gonna be? ‘tsumu’ is a gender-neutral option, just sayin’-”

osamu reached across the table and finally flicked him on the forehead.

later, after the chaos had simmered down and the three of you stepped out into the evening air, atsumu was quiet in that rare way that made you glance over to make sure he was okay.

you were halfway to your cars when he slowed beside you. “so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you, uh… got any pictures yet? like, baby ones?”

you smiled and pulled out your phone. “only one so far. first ultrasound.”

you handed it over and he took it a little too carefully, like he was afraid to drop it. the black-and-white image flickered faintly on the screen, and he just… stared.

he didn’t smile. didn’t joke. he looked at that tiny shape like it was the most real thing in the world. like it had just hit him, really hit him what this meant.

“that’s… them?” he asked, voice quiet.

you nodded. “yeah. that’s your niece or nephew.”

atsumu blinked. “they’re so small.”

you and osamu glanced at each other—your heart a little full, his eyes a little softer than usual.

then atsumu looked up, meeting your gaze. “thanks for tellin’ me. first, i mean. that you wanted me to know first.” he cleared his throat, suddenly awkward. “i’m… real happy for you guys. both of ya.”

“you’re gonna be an amazing uncle,” you said, nudging him gently.

he gave a little laugh. “yeah? little corn junior?”

“no,” osamu said flatly. “absolutely not.”

but you were smiling, and so was atsumu, and osamu had that small, quiet look he only ever got when he was really, truly happy.

atsumu looked back at the photo one more time. then, without a word, he stepped forward and hugged you. not a joking one. not a one-arm squeeze. a real one.

“i’m proud of you,” he mumbled. "this is crazy."

you hugged him back. “we love you, ‘tsumu.”

osamu snorted beside you. “gettin’ soft in your old age.”

“shut it, old man. i’m still prettier.”

they started bickering again as you all walked down the street—arguing over who had better genes and whether the baby would inherit osamu’s cooking or atsumu’s hair.

you stayed a step behind for just a moment. hand resting over your stomach. heart full.

this little one was already so loved.

..and also so doomed to a life of chaos.

but mostly? so, so loved.

masterlist

[kiyoramen]

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."