Fic: First Down (Hiruma/Sena, NC-17)
Aug. 17th, 2011 09:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silverfoxflowerTitle: First Down
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Slash, PWP
Word Count: ~800
Pairing: Hiruma/Sena
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Graphic slashy smut, derisive name-calling, very dominant!Himura
Notes: Fills the 'Humiliation (Verbal)' square of my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kink_bingo .
Summary: On or off-field, Sena gets off on Himura's verbal abuse
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue
The locker room after practice smells of sweat, still ringing with loud conversations and laughter even after the door has slammed shut on the last of the boys. Behind a row of lockers, Sena kneels gingerly on the filthy floor, still in uniform except for his helmet, which has skittered under the benches long ago.
“Suck, pipsqueak.” Hiruma says from somewhere high above him, and Sena doesn’t even dare to look upwards, just swallows heavily before moving forward to stuff as much cock in his mouth as he can manage. No hesitation, he knows better than to tease.
Overeager and underpracticed. Sena gags as Hiruma’s hips snap forward and feels long fingers tangle in his hair. It’s a sharp, controlling pain burning down the back of his scalp, Sena gasps as best as he can manage and Hiruma shoves past his gag reflex, forces him to choke. The air swims with Hiruma’s sharp scent. Sena breathes it in as best as he can manage with his nose smashed into pubic hair.
“When did you get so indecent, chibi?” Hiruma laughs at Sena’s attempts to moan, swallowing and slobbering in eager arousal. “Wait, it must have been on the field, wasn’t it?” Sena is too busy sucking and moaning to respond. He flinches when Hiruma backhands him across the cheek. “I asked you a question.”
With his lust-addled motor control Sena just barely manages to nod, hoping Hiruma feels it and doesn’t make him push away and speak. Right now, the cock in his mouth is Sena’s entire world, and Hiruma words are the white-hot stars he presses, desperately against for heat.
“Dirty boy,” Hiruma purrs, finally rocking into Sena’s mouth with a leisurely pace. “I could see you, blushing and stammering every time I called you up and ripped you a new one. Pipsqueak. Chibi. Useless runt.”
Sena moans deeply around Hiruma’s cock. Every word hits him square between the legs, making him harder, making him ache with need. His crotch feels hot, moist, unbearably cramped, but Sena makes no move to lift his hands from his thighsHiruma’s rules.
“… our fucking ace,” Hiruma’s voice betrays just the slightest edge of exertion, “Down on your knees like the cockslut you are.” He begins fucking Sena’s mouth so hard that his head snaps back with every thrust until Hiruma’s long fingers twist firmly in his hair and hold him still. “Bet you fumbled on purpose, just so I’d look at you, scream at you in front of everybody. You liked that? Letting everyone see your dirty little cock getting hard for me? Freak.”
Sena wants to shake his head, deny everything, but Hiruma’s grip on his hair is too strong and he can do nothing but moan and take it, his fingers twisting into the muscles of his thigh. He can barely chase the taste Hiruma’s precome at the back of his throat - Sena wants to sob at being denied the honor of tasting Hiruma properly, rubbing his scent all over his face, showing him just how good Sena could make him feel. He settled for swallowing as eagerly as he could, tonguing the thick head of Hiruma’s cock, its sensitive ridge.
“Fuckin’ chibi, completely fucking useless.” Hiruma says, raising his foot and bringing it down viciously on Sena’s clothed cock, smirking at the pained squeak he received in reply. “Except.” He pressed the tip of his foot delicately against the plastic sport cup. “For.” And ground down. “This”
A tearing pain at the back of his head was all Sena’s warning before his face was forced downwards, and Hiruma’s come splashed down his throat. Sena drank it all with a choked sob, rutting furiously against Hiruma’s foot. It wasn’t enough to make him come, but he couldn’t help himself.
”Please,” He murmurs against the skin of Hiruma’s softening cock, cleaning it with gentle swipes of his tongue between anxious glances upwards. Sitting over him, Hiruma looks like some all-powerful deity, able to give or deny Sena anything. His foot is still kicked out, and Sena rubs against it wildly, trembling and hoping the Hiruma doesn’t smite him where he kneels in worship.
“You know,” Hiruma says idly, “Mamori washes these uniforms.”
Sena ducks his head, panting and flushed with sweat. He pictures Mamori sifting through his clothing, her gentle face wrinkling in disgust as she sees his uniform. She would know exactly how useless, how dirty he is.
“You still want to come?”
“Y-yes.”
One of Hiruma’s more brilliant smiles splits his face as he leans forward, foot still pressing rhythmically between Sena’s thighs. His breath steams in Sena’s ear. “Eyeshield.”
Sena trembles like his entire body is being shaken apart, gasping for breath and crying out in the same note, coming for what feels like a long, drawn-out forever because the exact inflection of Hiruma’s voice as it wrapped around the name Sena had worked so hard to live up to was deeply, coldly, cuttingly, disdainful.
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Slash, PWP
Word Count: ~800
Pairing: Hiruma/Sena
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Graphic slashy smut, derisive name-calling, very dominant!Himura
Notes: Fills the 'Humiliation (Verbal)' square of my
kink_bingo .Summary: On or off-field, Sena gets off on Himura's verbal abuse
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue
The locker room after practice smells of sweat, still ringing with loud conversations and laughter even after the door has slammed shut on the last of the boys. Behind a row of lockers, Sena kneels gingerly on the filthy floor, still in uniform except for his helmet, which has skittered under the benches long ago.
“Suck, pipsqueak.” Hiruma says from somewhere high above him, and Sena doesn’t even dare to look upwards, just swallows heavily before moving forward to stuff as much cock in his mouth as he can manage. No hesitation, he knows better than to tease.
Overeager and underpracticed. Sena gags as Hiruma’s hips snap forward and feels long fingers tangle in his hair. It’s a sharp, controlling pain burning down the back of his scalp, Sena gasps as best as he can manage and Hiruma shoves past his gag reflex, forces him to choke. The air swims with Hiruma’s sharp scent. Sena breathes it in as best as he can manage with his nose smashed into pubic hair.
“When did you get so indecent, chibi?” Hiruma laughs at Sena’s attempts to moan, swallowing and slobbering in eager arousal. “Wait, it must have been on the field, wasn’t it?” Sena is too busy sucking and moaning to respond. He flinches when Hiruma backhands him across the cheek. “I asked you a question.”
With his lust-addled motor control Sena just barely manages to nod, hoping Hiruma feels it and doesn’t make him push away and speak. Right now, the cock in his mouth is Sena’s entire world, and Hiruma words are the white-hot stars he presses, desperately against for heat.
“Dirty boy,” Hiruma purrs, finally rocking into Sena’s mouth with a leisurely pace. “I could see you, blushing and stammering every time I called you up and ripped you a new one. Pipsqueak. Chibi. Useless runt.”
Sena moans deeply around Hiruma’s cock. Every word hits him square between the legs, making him harder, making him ache with need. His crotch feels hot, moist, unbearably cramped, but Sena makes no move to lift his hands from his thighsHiruma’s rules.
“… our fucking ace,” Hiruma’s voice betrays just the slightest edge of exertion, “Down on your knees like the cockslut you are.” He begins fucking Sena’s mouth so hard that his head snaps back with every thrust until Hiruma’s long fingers twist firmly in his hair and hold him still. “Bet you fumbled on purpose, just so I’d look at you, scream at you in front of everybody. You liked that? Letting everyone see your dirty little cock getting hard for me? Freak.”
Sena wants to shake his head, deny everything, but Hiruma’s grip on his hair is too strong and he can do nothing but moan and take it, his fingers twisting into the muscles of his thigh. He can barely chase the taste Hiruma’s precome at the back of his throat - Sena wants to sob at being denied the honor of tasting Hiruma properly, rubbing his scent all over his face, showing him just how good Sena could make him feel. He settled for swallowing as eagerly as he could, tonguing the thick head of Hiruma’s cock, its sensitive ridge.
“Fuckin’ chibi, completely fucking useless.” Hiruma says, raising his foot and bringing it down viciously on Sena’s clothed cock, smirking at the pained squeak he received in reply. “Except.” He pressed the tip of his foot delicately against the plastic sport cup. “For.” And ground down. “This”
A tearing pain at the back of his head was all Sena’s warning before his face was forced downwards, and Hiruma’s come splashed down his throat. Sena drank it all with a choked sob, rutting furiously against Hiruma’s foot. It wasn’t enough to make him come, but he couldn’t help himself.
”Please,” He murmurs against the skin of Hiruma’s softening cock, cleaning it with gentle swipes of his tongue between anxious glances upwards. Sitting over him, Hiruma looks like some all-powerful deity, able to give or deny Sena anything. His foot is still kicked out, and Sena rubs against it wildly, trembling and hoping the Hiruma doesn’t smite him where he kneels in worship.
“You know,” Hiruma says idly, “Mamori washes these uniforms.”
Sena ducks his head, panting and flushed with sweat. He pictures Mamori sifting through his clothing, her gentle face wrinkling in disgust as she sees his uniform. She would know exactly how useless, how dirty he is.
“You still want to come?”
“Y-yes.”
One of Hiruma’s more brilliant smiles splits his face as he leans forward, foot still pressing rhythmically between Sena’s thighs. His breath steams in Sena’s ear. “Eyeshield.”
Sena trembles like his entire body is being shaken apart, gasping for breath and crying out in the same note, coming for what feels like a long, drawn-out forever because the exact inflection of Hiruma’s voice as it wrapped around the name Sena had worked so hard to live up to was deeply, coldly, cuttingly, disdainful.
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