Major content: sexual content, breathplay, dubious consent
626 words
Akaashi twists his hips again and lets out a staggered breath. The lack of air is making it hard for him to concentrate, hard for him to even see Oikawa’s face or hear his mocking words above him. He’s always talking, so many words that are completely pointless when Akaashi just wants someone to fuck him. A few words make it through the haze and he twists again, pretty bitch, he likes the sound of that more than he wants to acknowledge.
Oikawa’s sitting on his stomach, straddling him, and though they’re still fully clothed he’s harder than he’s been in a long time. This isn’t the best place, the club room between practice matches, and the team would be looking for him soon enough, probably too soon if he knew his ace.
He sucks in a breath, as much air as he can manage in the scant second before Oikawa bears down on him again and let’s out the air in the form of a cry for help. Oikawa laughs again and Akaashi twists beneath him.
He reaches up, scratching at Oikawa’s long fingers as they stretched around his neck. He hoped Oikawa would think he was protesting and squeeze harder, but he just laughed and made some joke. Are you keeping them there, Akaashi-chan? You really do like this, don’t you? and there were the words again, the name that rung in his head. At this point it was almost too easy to tune him out, to focus on dragging one wheezing breath after the other, to focus solely on the air that kept him alive and the fingers that restricted that, the body weight that pressed down on his sternum. Somehow he wasn’t even focused on his own dick, but he could see where Oikawa’s shorts were tented and how when he tightened his thighs around Akaashi’s waist he twitched.
If he had the ability he’d mock Oikawa right back, make fun of him for being just as turned on as Akaashi was but there was still the matter at hand, and Akaashi coughed when he next took a breath. Oikawa moved then, releasing the pressure bearing down on his stomach and sliding until his ass was pressing down directly on Akaashi’s aching cock. He wanted to twist again, to thrust up, to press against the weight above him until he reached his own release, but he tried his best to resist. Oikawa leans down and bites somewhere at the side of his neck and Akaashi moans, he can’t help it. Oikawa’s whispering something now, something hot and dirty about being choked and Akaashi wants it. His own hands are pinned down but he wonders how it would feel to reverse their positions, to pull the air from Oikawa’s lungs with his own weight and fingers.
Oikawa moves his hands and one holds firmly at his jaw while the other one slaps him. It’s quick, a sharp sting against his cheek that has him seeing stars and he nearly yelps when it’s repeated, this time on the other cheek. Oikawa’s fingers are digging in to his face now, squeezing and holding him steady as he whispers more and more filthy things to him.
He feels himself getting closer. Closer and closer to the release that has been evading him and he can’t help that he twists his hips again. Oikawa squeezes more, digging into his face so hard Akaashi would make a bet that there will be marks. It’s that thought that finishes him and he jerks his hips, muscles clenching as his orgasm takes him and he lets out a pitiful whimper.
“You came in your pants, pretty bitch.” Oikawa’s voice comes as if through a fog and Akaashi almost could smile.
FILL: Team Nishinoya Yuu/Tanaka Ryuunosuke Rated: E
Major content: sexual content, breathplay, dubious consent
626 words
Akaashi twists his hips again and lets out a staggered breath. The lack of air is making it hard for him to concentrate, hard for him to even see Oikawa’s face or hear his mocking words above him. He’s always talking, so many words that are completely pointless when Akaashi just wants someone to fuck him. A few words make it through the haze and he twists again, pretty bitch, he likes the sound of that more than he wants to acknowledge.
Oikawa’s sitting on his stomach, straddling him, and though they’re still fully clothed he’s harder than he’s been in a long time. This isn’t the best place, the club room between practice matches, and the team would be looking for him soon enough, probably too soon if he knew his ace.
He sucks in a breath, as much air as he can manage in the scant second before Oikawa bears down on him again and let’s out the air in the form of a cry for help. Oikawa laughs again and Akaashi twists beneath him.
He reaches up, scratching at Oikawa’s long fingers as they stretched around his neck. He hoped Oikawa would think he was protesting and squeeze harder, but he just laughed and made some joke. Are you keeping them there, Akaashi-chan? You really do like this, don’t you? and there were the words again, the name that rung in his head.
At this point it was almost too easy to tune him out, to focus on dragging one wheezing breath after the other, to focus solely on the air that kept him alive and the fingers that restricted that, the body weight that pressed down on his sternum. Somehow he wasn’t even focused on his own dick, but he could see where Oikawa’s shorts were tented and how when he tightened his thighs around Akaashi’s waist he twitched.
If he had the ability he’d mock Oikawa right back, make fun of him for being just as turned on as Akaashi was but there was still the matter at hand, and Akaashi coughed when he next took a breath. Oikawa moved then, releasing the pressure bearing down on his stomach and sliding until his ass was pressing down directly on Akaashi’s aching cock. He wanted to twist again, to thrust up, to press against the weight above him until he reached his own release, but he tried his best to resist.
Oikawa leans down and bites somewhere at the side of his neck and Akaashi moans, he can’t help it. Oikawa’s whispering something now, something hot and dirty about being choked and Akaashi wants it. His own hands are pinned down but he wonders how it would feel to reverse their positions, to pull the air from Oikawa’s lungs with his own weight and fingers.
Oikawa moves his hands and one holds firmly at his jaw while the other one slaps him. It’s quick, a sharp sting against his cheek that has him seeing stars and he nearly yelps when it’s repeated, this time on the other cheek. Oikawa’s fingers are digging in to his face now, squeezing and holding him steady as he whispers more and more filthy things to him.
He feels himself getting closer. Closer and closer to the release that has been evading him and he can’t help that he twists his hips again. Oikawa squeezes more, digging into his face so hard Akaashi would make a bet that there will be marks. It’s that thought that finishes him and he jerks his hips, muscles clenching as his orgasm takes him and he lets out a pitiful whimper.
“You came in your pants, pretty bitch.” Oikawa’s voice comes as if through a fog and Akaashi almost could smile.