Haikyu!! One-shots [COMPLETE]

Osamu x (female) Reader

We passed 900 reads, almost 1k. Thank you so much everyone🥺

I really have too many of these lol. Okay, so we're going the non-conventional way and writing whatever instead of sticking with the anime. I need to get things moving.
Oh yeah, French included.
PS: I didn't grammar check the French sentences.
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F/n was a baker, a pastry chef, to be exact. She worked in a manor for a lady, Duchess Irina. She was a plump woman and loved to eat sweets. And F/n was the lucky winner of a baking contest. She was around sixteen when she became Irina's pastry chef. At first, her father was against it, but she convinced him she'd be alright.

"I can even send you money to hire workers. It'll be great."

F/n shared a room with the other female servants and spent most of her time baking. She worked diligently, always making the finest treats for the duchess, eventually earning the name "Pastry Puff."

"Good afternoon, Aunt Irina."

"You're looking sweet as always."

"Oh, my lovely nephews! It's so good to see you!"

Her two nephews, Osamu and Atsumu, twins with a flair for competition, had stopped by to visit. As always, Irina had a tray of desserts and fluffy pastries prepared for Osamu, the glutton of the two. But he immediately noticed the differences in their flavour.

"You changed pastry chef."

"I knew you'd notice," Irina giggled. "I recently hired her. She makes the finest desserts I've ever had. And she's such a darling girl."

Osamu wasted no time and excused himself.

"Oi, Samu, don't tell me you're going to snoop around the kitchen."

"I'm going to snoop around the kitchen." Osamu stuck his tongue out, mocking his brother and left. He was familiar with the manor as he always ran around as a child (mostly hiding from Atsumu, but it was worth it).

As he approached the door, he caught words he didn't understand.

"T'aurais dû me laisser t'aider," a man sighed. "T'es couverte de farine."

"C'est pas un problème, j'me laverais après," a woman replied. "Sérieusement, Roberto, j'ai pas besoin ta débarbouillette."

"T'es sure que t'as pas besoin d'aide–"

"Roberto."

"At least let me sweep the floor."

"...Do what you want."

Osamu curiously opened the door to a girl covered in flour, elbow-deep in a mixer, while Roberto swept some of the flour on the floor. To his surprise, it was only those two in the kitchen. Osamu cleared his throat, startling Roberto, who clutched the broom close.