sen

osamu turning his hat backwards so he can finally kiss rintarou and going lower to suck his cock till rin takes it off to run his hands through those brown locks

snos doodle

#sunaosa #osasuna

#SUNAOSA #角名治

a quiet first

— happy new year !!

TW // blood

The Basement at Onigiri Miya - A Horror AU for a late Halloween

#haikyuu #osasuna

suna smacking the blender while making sauce: he loves it when I hit him from the back

osamu: get out of my kitchen

// happy (early) halloween !! >w^

pt2 up tomorrow. hope u guys like pwp bc i’ve been on a roll lately

thank u for reading!! hope u enjoyed!!

let up.

Osamu presses a kiss to the nape of Rintarou’s neck. “Now, give me five minutes for real and let’s get out of here.”

his ass out all evening.”

“Oh my god, you’re right,” Rintarou whines. “Should’ve asked you to come in with just your apron on.”

Osamu starts tickling Rintarou ruthlessly, who can only gasp and snort in between peels of laughter.

“I yield! ‘Samu, mercy!” Rintarou chokes out when Osamu starts to

we can wait five more minutes.”

The smile Rintarou shoots him is downright vicious. “You know, it’s kinda cute how worked up you get from just a little grinding action.”

Osamu squeezes at his sides meanly. “Ya clearly didn’t hafta deal with yer devastatingly handsome boyfriend walkin’ around with

“Aw. You wanna fool around with me?” Rintarou says, his smile morphing into something much more gentle and warm.

Osamu just hums in the affirmative, pushing some stray hairs away from Rintarou’s forehead.

Rintarou’s eyes crinkle in adoration. “Take me home then, Osamu.”

“Yeah, about that. Maybe

ferocious. “What should we try this year? The toilets are a bit cliché but I don’t think we should risk the hallways since there’ll be press around.”

Osamu pinches Rintarou’s thigh harshly. “Or maybe we could think about what we can do tonight, like gettin’ a cab now and fool around at home.”

spread his legs a little more. “Wanna give them a show?”

“Ew, no. My teammates are here, Osamu,” Rintarou says, putting on his best fake affronted face.

“Not what ya said when ya were givin’ me a footjob at that JVA banquet last year.”

“That was really fun,” Rintarou says, smile bordering on

middle of a crowded room and he’s getting a bit too handsy for public decency.

“Rin,” Osamu warns when Rintarou’s hand brushes against his nipple in a very deliberate way amidst peppering kisses all over his neck. He digs his fingers in the meat of Rintarou’s thigh and pushes lightly to get him to

waking moment spent not in Rintarou’s direct vicinity leaves a gaping hole in his chest. The memories of a sharp tongue, sharper eyes, playful wit and lazy smiles haunt his every thought until he gets to have the real thing in front of him.

Which he does right now, except he’s on top of him in the

was the one who chose to seat himself squarely on Osamu’s dick.

“Missed you,” Rintarou whispers against his ear, like it’s a secret. Osamu almost chokes on it, the tender way he says it, the intimate words spoken for his ears only.

“Missed ya too,” Osamu whispers back, because he does. Every

Blaring alarms go off in Osamu’s head.

“Hey yerself,” Osamu says, the sound punched out of him when Rintarou squirms in his lap to nose at Osamu’s neck and press a kiss to his cheek.

Osamu grabs one of Rintarou’s thighs to get him to stop moving. It lands way too high for propriety, but Rintarou

a definite high schooler move and really he should’ve thought about it some more.
Maybe Rintarou grows restless, too, because at some point he slinks over to Osamu, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Hey again,” Rintarou says, discarding the cushion in Osamu’s lap to perch himself there instead.

day it’s Osamu Rintarou chooses to come home to and it’s Osamu who’ll get to see Rintarou absolutely wrecked on their bed, in their sheets tonight.

Preferably sooner than later because Osamu is sure most everyone has caught on to his little downstairs problem because shoving a cushion on his lap is

skimpy lingerie Rintarou is wearing tonight and the thought of anyone else also seeing is both infuriating and also kind of hot. Everyone here knows Osamu and Rintarou belong together, and have been together for over a decade now.

So if someone else gets to see, so be it, because at the end of the

to focus on small talk and not on Rintarou’s bare legs and what is hidden beneath his skirt.

Osamu wants to catch a glimpse of it bad. But if he does, that means everyone else in the room also might and somehow the risk of that happening is even more thrilling. Osamu wants to see what kind of

the corner of Osamu’s mouth and heading back to the living room.

Which leads us back to the present. Osamu is enjoying himself, to be fair, but at some point the contentment of catching up with old friends and the novelty of seeing Washio in a skirt wear off and it’s getting increasingly difficult

incredibly grateful he chose to follow Rintarou’s advice on his costume. The alternative was a skintight Superman suit that would’ve done absolutely nothing to hide his half chub.

“Anything I want?” Osamu asked, voice rough.

“Anything you want,” Rintarou confirmed before leaving a sweet kiss at

batting his hand away, much to Osamu’s chagrin. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in your brother’s kitchen?”

Osamu chose to ignore him. “Rin, we need to leave.”

“We’re not. You just got here and I haven’t seen Aran in ages. You can do anything you want to do to me later.”

Osamu was

baby, what the fuck,” Osamu breathed, blood rushing south. He slipped his hand to cup Rintarou’s asscheek and there he found rougher fabric, lace, maybe? Osamu wanted to laugh at his choice of costume again but mostly he just wanted to take it off him right this instant.

Rintarou tutted before

Pause.

“Are ya… are ya even wearing underwear right now?”

The corners of Rintarou’s mouth lifted up in a mean smirk. “‘Course I am.” Rintarou curled a hand over Osamu’s to push it slightly upwards and—there it was. Satin fabric under his fingertips.

Osamu squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh my god, Rin,

“I need to see that,” Osamu said. Rintarou gave a harsh tug on his hair.

“Eyes back here, you dog,” he said, smirking.

Osamu gave a small laugh before tightening his hold on Rintarou. “As if I could ever take my eyes off ya when ya look like this,” Osamu said, hand sliding up under his skirt.

Osamu’s forehead before running a hand through his hair. “It’s Halloween. When else do we get to wear risqué clothing like this out in public as pro players? Also, Washio came as a fallen angel.”

“Washio’s in a skirt?” Osamu gaped.

Rintarou hummed. “Black leather miniskirt. Super sexy on him.”

“‘Kay, that’s my cue,” Komori said, hopping off the kitchen counter. “See you later, lovebirds!”

Rintarou gently waved at him, before turning his full attention to Osamu. “What a sexy monk you make. How are you?”

“Think you’re the sexy one here. Slutty angel and devil? Really?”

Rintarou flicked

grinned lazily at him.

“Hi Komori,” he responded before wrapping an arm around Rintarou’s middle. “Hey you,” Osamu said, before planting a kiss on Rintarou’s smile.

“Hey yourself,” Rintarou said, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that never fails to make Osamu’s heart skip a beat.

racy angel costume and winged eyeliner sharper than a blade.

“Ah, Osamu, there you are!” Komori chirped from the counter he’d been perched on next to Rintarou. He was wearing an equally as skimpy outfit as Rintarou did, just in red. Devil, then.

Osamu’s gaze landed firmly back on Rintarou, who