The pair you wore the other night- the ones you'd teased him in by playing with yourself over the fabric until they were practically ruined, the ones he'd nearly torn off of you to finish the job- they’re missing. It's not until days later when you're trying to match the set that you notice they never made it back. You shoot him a text asking if he’s seen them.
You don’t get a response immediately.
He replies after work, a series of short snaps he took from the back office:
-him leaning against his desk, backlit by the lamp, his dick wrapped in your missing pair.
-no sound, but a close up pov of his flushed cock slipping through the dampening silk.
-a shaky pic with his eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, the pair pressed to his face as he fucks his hand.
- a short video with sound of him sucking the crotch and moaning as he spills over his fist.
osamu just finished making some onigiri and needy reader grabs his wrists and sucks the rice stuck to his fingers
Christ. I read this and just mentally went 😳🔨
(I also have like 5 more paragraphs for this and plan to write more but I gotta post something... I’ll update this or xpost on ao3 w more later)
Watching Osamu work from behind was a treat. You’ve stopped in the doorway on your way back from the cooler, a cold box under one arm, enjoying the show. The view is amazing from your vantage point in the wooden door frame - the broad slope of his shoulders were facing you, letting you appreciate how they tapered down to his slim waist. The bow of the apron cinched above his hips only accentuates his figure, tied snug against him and pinching his shirt in slightly, cloth bunching above the tight band.
The muscles shift as one of his arms extends to dip into the saltwater bowl. You watch them tense, appreciating every curve and sharp line as he brings his arm back in to form another onigiri. It would be easy to stand where you were and keep watching, but you're interested in getting a closer look.
The box slides onto a nearby counter soundlessly. You stalk up behind Osamu, who continues to press the rice in his hands, unaware of your presence behind him. The view is even better up close. It was one of the rare days he was wearing a t-shirt as opposed to his usual long sleeve, allowing you an unobstructed view of his toned arms as they moved to make the onigiri. Your eyes stay focused on his arms as he places the final rice ball onto the counter- he has some stray grains stuck to them, the bright white specks in sharp contrast with the tan of his skin.
Your gaze sharpens into something more predatory. You're a good person: you should help him clean up.
Osamu’s finally alerted to your presence when you grab his wrist. He turns his head towards you incrementally, half- sighing, "I’m working right now."
"You’re the owner. Take a break," you say softly as you pull his arm towards you, “and let me help you clean up.” There’s a grain on his wrist. You kiss it off, sucking at the skin and making Osamu sigh. Your mouth moves along his hand, up to the meat of his thumb where another grain had stuck. Another gentle kiss takes it away, his eyes following your mouth’s movements with interest. They widen minutely, eyebrows raising as you pull his hand closer and pull two of his fingers into your mouth, tongue sliding along the undersides and picking up the last of the stray rice. They’re cool and salty from the water he’s dipped them in. They’ll warm up fast.
It’s easy to lever his back against the prep table with his arm in your control. Osamu lets you push him back as you lean into his space, slipping another finger into your mouth and bobbing as you suck down harder. His eyes are trained on your lips - he swallows, gaze becoming half lidded, and murmurs, "Someone could walk in."
Your grip on his hand loosens as you slowly slip his fingers from your mouth. Osamu watches, enthralled, as a strand connects from your lips to the tip of his free fingers. Your free hand palms at the growing bulge in his pants as you lean in and whisper back, “Then they get a free show.”
Realistically, if you hugged them. (P1) - (p2) (p3)
Bokuto: sweat and Old Spice 5 in 1 body wash. I'm sorry, but I just know this man isn't taking any more time in the shower than absolutely necessary. Stinky. We love him anyway. Would KILL you with his hug.
Akaashi: printer ink and over-roasted coffee, sometimes a hint of sage cologne. Takes care of himself, even though his job as an editor leads to a lot of late nights and bad coffee. Would hold you as long as you needed.
Osamu: Rice wine vinegar undertones, unfortunately, but mostly smoky cedarwood. Will cradle you against his Dorito Chest and rock you when hugged.
Asahi: sandalwood and rosemary from the locally sourced fair trade lotion he buys! His hair smells like the expensive no-sillicone organic coconut conditioner he gets imported. An absolute delight to hug. Top 5 contender easily.
Sugawara: rosewater. He uses it as a toner in his 7 step skincare routine. You KNOW he hugs tight enough to break your ribs.
Hinata: you'd think citrus, but you'd be wrong! His sister gave him some brown sugar body wash as a Christmas gift and he uses it every time he bathes 🥺 Very warm and will squeeze you.
Kageyama: contractually obligated to wear a cologne he has a brand deal with. Very chanel-esque. Otherwise would smell kind of faintly like dairy due to the amount he eats 😬 does not know how to hug.
Nishinoya: unholy combination of sunscreen and monster energy drinks. Will pick you up and swing you when he hugs.
Yachi: sweet pea perfume 🥺 switches scents a lot, but always light and sweet! Will hug with all the power she has, which is not a lot.
Tsukishima: Almost no discernable scent. Arm and hammer detergent if you sniff hard, but this will end the hug early. On occasion, bergamot. Hugs half-assedly 😔
Yamaguchi: popcorn, not fries. He eats it in the break rooms at his internship a lot. Will hug back enthusiastically.
Ushijima: irish spring soap. Will pat you on the back when hugged exactly 3 times.
Tendou: like he just walked out of a bakery. Caramelizing sugar, vanilla, fresh pastry, cocoa beans. Top tier scent on this chocolatier. Hugs would be a delight if he wasn't made entirety out of sharp points.
Warnings: minor bodily harm, non-explicit mentions of burns, explicit sexual situations, swearing
Inspired by @crocyoota !!! The way I RAN to my docs to make this- I tweaked it because my brain has been boiled by years of service industry work and now I think men in aprons are hot 😔 👊 enjoy!
If your boyfriend didn't look so fucking fine with the apron on, this never would have happened.
Osamu had you pressed against the counter, mouthing your neck hungrily as he pulled your pants the rest of the way down.
All you had wanted was to visit him briefly as he closed -just to get a view of his waist cinched in that apron, maybe to pick up lunch for tomorrow- before heading back home. However, as soon as you entered you could tell your boyfriend was planning something. Sure enough, after waving the last customer out the door and locking up, he had pulled you into the kitchen, kissing you like he hadn't seen you in weeks.
(You had seen him yesterday.)
Currently, your pants were off and Osamu was on his knees, his tongue working its magic on you. You cursed loudly as he did that thing with his teeth that made your toes curl.
"Fuck, 'Samu," you pant, already closer than you wanted to admit. "You're s'good t-tuh… to me," you manage to stutter out as he pushes one spit-slicked finger into you, quickly followed by another. He scissored them open slightly, teasing another groan out of you. fuck.
You feel his hot breath on your thighs as he pulls away slightly. "Only 'cause you deserve it, darlin'," he huffs out, standing as he does. He towers over you, caging you against the counter. "Think you're ready for me yet?" He asks as he leans into you, grinding his dick into the junction of your hip and closest leg.
Fuck yes you were. You kiss his stupidly sculpted chest and move down to catch a nipple with your teeth, grazing it and relishing the groan you hear your boyfriend trying to suppress. "Only for you, Osamu," you reply. His hands, calloused from years of volleyball, run down your sides and drop to your hips. His journey stops as he pauses to grab your ass and knead at the flesh there, pulling delicious sounds from you as you push into him, sensitive and needy.
"Just for me. Only for me… god, baby, gonna fuck you right here on the countertop…" He hooks his hands under your knees and lifts, throwing your feet over his shoulder and pressing the small of your back to the counter behind you.
The first push in has you gasping. It's always a tight fit, trying to cram all of him into you, but the stretch is always so gratifying. He fucks into you gently, easing into you thrust by thrust, inch by inch, your walls tight and hot around him. He bottoms out, pressed into you as far as he can, and stops. You're both breathing hard, your pants the only thing you can hear in the empty kitchen. He looks at you, arms braced on the counter, and says:
" 'M gonna skewer you, babe," with an absolutely shit eating grin.
"Please don't make food puns when you've got your dick inside-"
Your complaint is cut short as he pulls back and slams into you. fuck. Your brain, the mutinous traitor, refuses to work with Osamu's cock jackhammering into you. His thrusting continues, and your arms fail you as well.
You push your hands further out to your sides, scrambling to get purchase so you can get stabilized and meet his hips halfway. Unfortunately for you, one slides right onto the still-on burner for the forgotten pot of dashi boiling away on the stove that you were fucking directly to the next to.
"Fuck!" Your body jerks violently at the sudden pain. Your hand flies from the stove, flapping as though you could fling the incoming burn away. God damnit. This is absolutely going to blister.
He's already pulling out, your legs dropping unceremoniously to the floor. Osamu rushes you to the sink, turning the cold tap as far as it would go and guiding your hand under it, explaining in rushed tones how this will help stop the burn from spreading, to leave it for as long as you can stand it, baby, you'll be fine, I've got you.
It's an admittedly funny sight, 'Samu running around the kitchen like a headless chicken clad only in socks, cock bouncing freely as he rushes to get medical supplies for you. You wish you weren't distracted by the bite of the cold water and the dull stabs of pain from your burned palm.
Osamu appears in front of you suddenly with gauze in hand and concern in his eyes, his still hard dick making a comical slapping sound as it impacts his thigh. It swings pendulously from the sudden stop. You snort. It helps, In a way.
He takes your hand with a gentle touch, spreading a cooling salve on the burn before wrapping the gauze around your damaged hand. The tender touching is a far cry from the harsh fuck you were getting only minutes before, but no less welcome. He tapes the gauze in place, pressing your freshly-bandaged hand to your chest and leaning to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head. He can be so soft with you, when he wants. You turn, pressing your face to his chest and embracing him. You can hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest as easily as you can feel his warm skin on yours. This helps, too.
He holds you there for what feels like hours but must have only been minutes. You shift, sighing. Osamu is warm, but you're getting cold. You shift again, and he shifts with you, unconsciously rutting into you.
You look down. His erection, which was pushing into your hip, hadn't flagged at all.
"Osamu…" you trail off, nonplussed. He pushed again, intentionally. "Osamu. I have a 3rd degree burn. At least."
"Goes to show how hot you are, darlin'," he retorts, bringing your bandaged hand to his face and pressing a gentle kiss to it before cradling it to his chest.
"Baby. That doesn't even make sense…" you trail off as he trails kisses down your arm before moving to your neck again, sucking at the marks he had left earlier. God damnit, you were going to let him continue, weren't you? Damn this man and his charisma.
He lifts you into into a bridal carry effortlessly. He doesn't even strain. Fuck. Shit. You'd let him get away with anything and he knows it. You've got it bad. Gently, he places you down on a counter far away from the stove.
Osamu leers at you. He makes it look cute, the fucker. "So, where were we?"
He leans into you. You lean back with him, grinning. The warmth of his chest pressing to yours matches the warmth at your back. The heat at your back. The uncomfortable heat at your back. What…? The SEARING PAIN-
Honestly, sex is so much better when it's not serious. It's just good when you can literally fool around and just have fun and just be able to laugh and joke during it!
I have a random question for you too! Which HQ characters do you think are more likely to have giggly sex?
I love when sex is fun!!! It's such a flex to be able to get your partner to laugh when you're balls/knuckle deep. Sex can be like.... Super special, sure, but it can also be fun and stupid and goofy and I love that!
I think the most likely to intentionally have fun, giggly sex are Tendou, Sugawara, Hinata, Fukunaga, Osamu, Aran, Kuroo, Hanamaki, Bokuto, Terushima, and Komori.
And I think the most likely contenders for trying a lil too hard to be hot and making you laugh (and getting their egos a lil bruised) are Tanaka, Gao, Yamamoto, Kageyama, Ukai, Lev, Kindaichi, Futakuchi, Bokuto (again), Goshiki, Daishou, Atsumu, and Hoshiumi.
osamu breaking my heart and me cumming, that’s it that’s the tweet
I don't usually like writing angst, but I like Osamu, so..... 😔 porn and angst below.
You didn't know what else to do.
You were pressed to the counter, hands pinned above your head with one hand as Osamu pounded into you from behind at a furious pace. Even though you're being filled to the brim by him, there's an aching emptiness he can't seem to reach.
What happened to us?
You wanted to be enough for him, but you saw how he looked at the girl who came in every Friday at 6 with an order for her college team. How he lit up around her like he never did around you. It wasn't fair- how did she get that reaction when you couldn't? You knew him. You have known him, since high school. You knew what he liked to listen to when he rides the train, his least favorite book, you knew where had lost his virginity and even what brand of tofu he preferred to put in his miso soup.
But did he know you like that? Did he care about you the same way anymore?
He definitely knew how to get you to come. His technique is as good as ever and he's hitting that spot inside of you that makes you burn with pleasure hard enough that you're almost crying. Would be even notice if you did cry?
He never looked at your eyes when you fucked anymore. You push to look back at him and see that he has his eyes screwed shut.
The push sent Osamu farther into you than you thought he could go, and he grinds into you, deep and hot. Pressed to the hilt, you can feel his cock throbbing as it presses deeper into you still. A hand ghosts down your stomach and teases you, the light touches enough to send you over the edge. Muscle contract and you shake minutely as the bliss radiates up, moaning his name as you climax. Your velvet heat pulsing around him finally gets Osamu to cum as well.
When he pumps into you, grunting her name out instead of yours, you choke. You knew on some level, intellectually, you weren't stupid, but having it confirmed like this? Grief wraps like a fist around your heart.
who would pick hair off of a barber's floor and keep it?
Oh Tendou no question
Runner up for some reason the Miya twins. Idk they seem like the type of mfs that would pick that shit up n pocket it, like, as kids, to throw at each other later 💀
